Chapter Text
Ex was a long way from home. He was part of the ninth Starbound Unit, although his nameplate got messed up and had the roman numerals switched around. He didn’t know where exactly he was in space, that was the navigator's job, but he knew they were long gone from the Milky Way, and that he had a job to do.
He was working in the engine room when it happened– maybe that's why he wasn’t killed. He had his suit on for some extra protection from the heat. There was a sickening pop as the lights went out, bathing him in darkness. Ex dropped his tools, ready to rush to someone's aid; it seemed electronics would go out all too often now that he was… that his assistants were gone. His brother would have been much better at this kind of thing, ever more empathetic, but he wasn’t here, so Ex would have to do.
After the pop, a high pitched whine began echoing through the halls. Then, an alarm started blaring. The backup lights began blinking. DANGER, They warned, DANGER . Ex jumped to his feet. He had to make it to the power source of the ship, a room that seemed kilometres away in his panic. But that was his job, and they were as good as dead if he couldn’t get there and fix it.
The sirens screamed as Ex ran, shouting into his wrist comm, “Captain, come in! This is Ex reporting! Captain, do you hear me!? Status report, please !”
Not a single report came back. Not from his captain, nor from the other crew.
“Anyone, come in! This is Mars, Excess Mechanic– is anyone there?”
Piercing through the whines of the alarms, he heard a scream, only for a moment before– the sirens were too loud to figure out if the person was still conscious.
Ex cursed to himself, “Okay, screw this.” He diverted from his path away from the electrical room. If comms weren’t working, no one else would know if his crewmate was injured. He had to check in. Hopefully the warning overhead wasn’t fatal. They couldn’t afford to lose anyone else this far out.
He darted through the halls, rounding a corner into the communications room to see the fallen body of his friend. There they laid, eyes unblinking. A cold chill swept over him. There was blood splattered across the wall. His friend was still– his crewmate – unmoving. The screen above blinked with the lights of a call back home, ended too soon.
He didn’t have time to process that. Over their body was a figure so tall and menacing Ex almost ran away right then and there.
The best way he could describe them was like a bull . They stood several metres tall, four hooved legs holding up a humanoid torso with a bovine head. Every limb was a mass of muscles and power. The figure turned to Ex, a broadsword pulled from the sheath over their shoulder, grin showing every tooth. They lunged .
Ex dove out of the way, barely dodging the blade. He reached for his weapon, grasping at empty air. He cursed, remembering the way he’d dropped his weapon with the rest of his tools in the engine room. He was going to have to win this with brute force.
The bull-man swung his sword while Ex was distracted, a sick slice splitting he’s chest. Ex stumbled back, “No no no– okay, ah”, he grabbed at the slash, hissing in pain. Then, he leapt forward, reaching for the hilt of the cow-guy’s broadsword. He had to get the weapon for himself.
It was futile. Any time Ex got close, the bull-man thrashed, catching Ex’s helmet with their horns. The left side of his visor cracked, but stayed intact. Ex’s grip on the bull faltered, and he hit the ground. Cow-guy landed a hooved strike directly into Ex’s ribcage. It felt like being kicked by a cinder block of pure power. A cinder block would have hurt less , actually.
He struggled back to his feet, grasping at his stomach. “Gods, remind me not to join a stampede.” The creature ran at him. Ex grabbed a horn in his hands. With all his weight he shifted and threw him. The bull man fell to his side with a thump. If it wasn’t for the wonders of human adrenaline, it might not have worked. Ex was pleasantly shocked at his own strength. As the bull-man struggled to stand, Ex heard them groan, shouting something in another language. It was just a second, but Ex took the moment. This wasn’t a battle he could win , he had to run .
He ran– ran as fast as he could. He didn’t even know where to, maybe an escape pod? The halls blurred in the flashes of red light. The cries of terror and pain he could hear from his friends joined the cacophony of the ship’s signals for help. He had to get out. He had to . He owed his family, he owed his crew; he was a coward, but he had to get out .
His feet hit the ground with loud thuds, barely audible in the commotion. Around the corner he ran, eyes catching on the small compartments across the hall. The escape pods were in sight. Another shadow came into view; for a split second, Ex thought a friend of his could still be alive. Maybe he wasn’t alone in his escape. Instead, they turned and he saw scarlet, splattered across shiny purple skin. That wasn’t a Starbound suit. That wasn’t a friend. Ex, like the planet of his old namesake, like the flashing lights above, like his worn and cracked armour, like the blood of his friends on the walls and on his enemy, saw red .
He screamed a nonsense battle cry, leaping at the assailant. He swung with all of the strength he had, the hit landing square across the thing’s rocky snout. Chips of the crystal-like skin stuck in Ex’s gloves.
The creature, the alien, the enemy – snarled, pulling a thin blade from a sheath. Before they could slash, Ex jumped back up and swung a leg at their torso. It hit dead on. Ex spun around to stand firm. The hit threw the rocky guy off balance, stumbling to stay up.
Ex cursed at them, screaming profanities at the blood he saw still dripping from their blade. Then, he kicked again, successfully knocking them over. They fell and he kicked again, and again, and again , stomping the body below him. The shiny skin of the alien scuffed and left pieces of gems scattered across the ground. He didn’t stop till it became clear they would no longer be moving any time soon. The gem-like skin cracked open like a reverse geode.
The ship rumbled dangerously. They were going down. Hopefully the captain got the ship somewhere to crash or land before it was too late. If they landed somewhere, it was possible to get a message home using one of the emergency messenger rockets. It would take a while, but at least they wouldn’t die in vain.
That was all hope. The only way he could guarantee that he would survive to the next day was if he got in an escape pod and landed it himself.
So, that's what he did. His breath came in quick pants, He sprinted the final stretch down the hall. “Anyone, if you’re alive, this is Ex-Mars– I’m evacuating.” he called into the comm, tears starting to mist up his cracked visor.
It was time to go. Ex slid into the little escape pod. There was just barely enough room for him to sit. He latched himself in, hands shaking too bad to have it click on the first try, and selected to navigate to the nearest planet. It seemed they were heading that way anyway; the ship really was going down in glory. What a motto that was.
He took the moment to assess himself. His head was spinning, pounding against his skull. His armour was slashed and cracked. There was a long cut down his arm he hadn’t noticed during the fight. The escape pod would have some health supplies in the base of it that he could access once landed, but he had to get to the planet first.
He hoped wherever he landed wasn’t full of aliens like those who stole his only friends. He hoped it wasn’t populated at all, or maybe he hoped this was all a dream, but Ex had hope. Pandora’s box had to have something at the end. He just needed to get a message out to Earth.