Location: Wild Planet, Crash-landed Confederation Ship
Aliens: Human, Aguillar, Gastromycen, Gurglan
Boyd stood in front of Lira’s tank, watching him swim from one side to the other. “You doing okay?” Boyd asked, pretending to focus on his display. As captain, Boyd knew each of his crew had different needs. Some, quite apparent, like Lira needing a large tank of water attuned to the Open Sea of Albireo. And others more subtle, such as Lira hating any attention whatsoever.
“If I weren’t, you would know, captain,” he said, not pausing.
“You know I just gotta ask the questions,” Boyd said, tapping a few things on his display. Lira couldn’t learn that these daily check-ins were actually Boyd’s idea. He placed the blame squarely on Mo, the ship’s medic. That was a week into their imprisonment. Several weeks later and Boyd couldn’t deny the monotony. But if any of his crew were going to crack up, he was going to be the first to know.
Boyd checked the biometrics of Lira’s tank. They still had a few weeks worth left of nutrients and minerals. But he had been growing lethargic. Boyd bumped up the temperature of the water. Boyd knew what Lira really needed was fresh meat. But that was going to be a long way off. Boyd thanked Lira for his time, who grunted in return.
Next on his checklist was Mo. Boyd found him in the sickbay, playing a game with Pal, his symbiote slug. The slug had him beat, but Mo didn’t seem to care. Out of his whole crew, Boyd was most worried about Mo. Being trapped on an ice planet and waiting for the thaw was perhaps a particularly cruel kind of punishment.
Unlike Lira, Mo needed Boyd’s undivided attention. He pulled up a chair and offered his hand to Pal, who climbed up and rested in his palm. “How are you feeling today, Mo?” Boyd asked.
“Same as yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that,” Mo said, collecting the pieces for the game.
“I’ve got a project for you,” Boyd said, placing Pal on Mo’s shoulder, then squeezing the side of his arm in one fluid gesture. Boyd wasn’t sure, but he figured what Mo really needed was something to do. A way to help someone. “But it has to stay between us,” Boyd said, leaning in close. He explained Lira’s situation.
“Everything is within parameters,” Mo said, bringing out his own display and pulling up Lira’s tank.
“I know, but I think there’s something else going on. I’d really appreciate it if you’d take a look into it. But don’t let him know what you’re doing, he’ll run you before you can blink,” Boyd said and clapped Mo’s shoulder.
“What do you think?” Boyd heard Mo ask Pal as he stepped out of the sickbay. He allowed himself a brief smile. Even if Lira was mad and Mo was unsuccessful, it would mix up their monotony just a little bit.
Boyd climbed up some ladders and looked through corridors until he found Burgm. The dark hallway was intermittently illuminated with flashes and sparks as their engineer “fixed” something else. “Burgm, buddy?” Boyd called into the open utility hatch. Burgm squelched his way through the conduits and pooled together at Boyd’s feet.
“Hello! Captain!” Burgm burped with his pseudomouth. Boyd sat down on the floor of the corridor so he and Burgm were “eyelevel”.
“How are you?” Boyd asked. He always enjoyed Burgm’s check ins. Their last several weeks had affected everyone differently. Some were already succumbing to cabin fever. Some were using the downtime to enjoy themselves. But Burgm, he didn’t care much one way or the other. He just liked being on the ship, wherever it was.
Boyd watched a bubble of air travel up Burgm’s translucent purple mass and as it popped at the surface Boyd heard him say, “Great!”
“Excellent. Good to hear as always,” Boyd said, ready to stand up.
“Captain. I’m…worried,” Burgm said. Don’t fail me now, Boyd thought.
“What about?” he asked the Gurglan with trepidation.
“Lira. And Mo. They’re unhappy,” Burgm said. Boyd smirked and patted the top of Burgm’s head.
“You’re a good friend,” Boyd said. “I’ll look into it.”
“Captain? We’ve got something you’ll want to see,” Boyd’s display buzzed. He told them he was on the way. A few ladders later and he was on the observation deck. It was considerably colder here, where the gelid winds whipped across the viewport.
“What’s the situation?” Boyd asked.
“Roughly 2 miles away,” Sal, the comms officer, said, bringing up a thermal scan of the otherwise frozen tundra. The deep blues and purples of the frozen landscape were broken up by pockets of red and yellow. They appeared to be large quadrupedal creatures of some kind. Boyd couldn’t help but feel a smile break the surface.
“Assemble an away team,” Boyd said. “Get the manufacturing units to produce full snow gear for five, including myself.”
“I’m afraid that might be a drain on our resources,” Sal said. Ever the worrywort.
“Duly noted. I need those snow suits and an immediate update on their position should they move by the time we leave,” Boyd said, disappearing off the observation deck. If these things were sentient, they might need medical attention, or might be able to help them get free sooner. If they were just animals, Lira may get his fresh meat after all. No matter what, today was not going to be like all the others.
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