[ She can make out familiar voices -- and if there's windows on doors in the Hephaestus, she can see that it's her old crewmates, having a casual banter about this or that.
'What're you going to do when we get back to Earth?'
'I think I miss the sun. All this metal and tech is starting to give me a little depression.'
'Well, only a little longer until we start heading back!' ]
[ I wonder if he thinks about them. If he still turns a corner and sees flashes of Fourier and Hui, giggling over their star charts. If he hears echoes of Fisher coming out of engineering. Did it stop for him?
When does it stop?
No. Focus. Work. Be here. Be now. Don't stop to remember. Don't stop to think. Stay away from the ghosts.
... lovelace stands outside the door for a very, very long moment without entering. but what else is there to do but go in? even if it's not real. just ghosts. so she steps inside, and puts on a bright smile. ]
Enough. You people get plenty of sun, right? [ playful. a little gesture out the window! ] Just because it's the wrong one. Is nothing good enough for you?
[ They turn around, and they seem as alive as Isabel once remembered them.
'Oh, c'mon Captain! We're allowed to complain a little bit, right?'
'Like you're all about serious duty 24/7 yourself. But we promise, we did the sweep, nothing to alert about.'
Everything was just fine, once upon a time. In the day, they were just crew members on a mission, ready to knock it out of the park and return back home.
In the day. Night falls and the story becomes different.
'What noise? Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?' ]
[ she hadn't been getting enough sleep, back then. but she is now. same amount of sleep.
it took a long time to notice how wrong that was. mania and paranoia had turned to ritual, and eventually she just sort of... forgot that a normal person should sleep longer than four hours a night. when that was all her body needed, it felt natural. the new normal. ]
There's something here. Something with us. There always is. A rat. A monster.
[ best team she ever had. best people she's ever known. she's not sure if she's just playing along or if she doesn't want to let down their memories by being honest here. it feels like all she can do is just... roll with it.
don't jump ahead in the script.
and so, teasing: ] But the jury's still out on capable. How many days since the last engine room disaster?
[ nothing to worry about. not worth worrying about her. she's the one that lives. sort of. ]
... And where's Dr. Selberg? I've told him to be more... sociable with you nerds.
[ Isn't it funny how things happen a lot. Isn't it funnier when you fail again and again.
As captain, it was your duty to keep your crewmates safe and alive, send them back home. Probably.
You can peer into the same room you had walked to in the earlier 'jump', seeing a sick person lying down atop a counter, wheezing. Too warm, feverish, a trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.
It could be either-or. In the end, it's someone who died on your watch. ]
[ "And you know what makes it all extra special? You're a Captain! You're supposed to keep your crew safe. Safe from bombs and viruses and - and outer space! You're supposed to protect them and make sure they don't die!" it's okay. hera doesn't have to be here to hear her.
even knowing that there's nothing she can do at this point, nothing she can do on her own, she'll still rush to his side. look around for anything she can give them to help - water or painkillers or anything else that won't cure him but might at least make it all a little more painless. she'll wipe the blood away from his mouth.
but the only one who could really help is selberg. ]
Where's the doctor?
[ will they even be able to answer?
does it even matter, when this has already happened? ]
[ They can only give you an answer you've already heard, something you've probably replayed in your head a thousand times by now.
Maybe that's Isabel's true sin -- just a failure of imagination, thinking about what she could've done different but it wasn't in your mind back then, who was responsible, who you overlooked, who was right under your nose, using your own crew like they were rats. The scurrying. Rats in the lab, a rat in your crew! Fucking rats.
Does it matter if you catch him, if you can't undo a thing? You can try. ]
lovelace makes sure her crewmate is comfortable before moving on. looking for dr. selberg with her gun already drawn. she can't undo it, and she knows that. even a time anomaly wouldn't help. wouldn't put her back here. not at this time.
but just letting it play out again in front of her exactly the same isn't something she can do. ]
[ The gentle, quiet beeping of the ship is gone. It's not dead silent, which is the only way you know that the systems are working just enough that you won't die of a loss of oxygen, of the heat being sapped into the echoes of deep space, but that's all you have.
The corridors loop around and around until it feels like you're the one in the maze, trying to seek a way out of a labyrinth, just a little test rat yourself.
Head towards the control room and you'll see your familiar doctor, inputting commands into the terminal. ]
[ terrible, thank you. this ship always breathes. the doors sound like little sighs when they open and clothes. like it's haunted. running around in circles without being able to get where she wants - that's happened before too. maybe she should have asked for eris instead of rhea or hera.
[ The doc ponders this over the terminal, fingers tapping across the board. A soft hum of thought. The tension in the air is thick and cold, like a massive slab of ice divides the distance between you and him.
'I suppose I am. We're lucky survivors, you and I.'
I could call it luck, for me. Bad luck, maybe, but luck. But you aren't here by luck. You're here because you're a cockroach.
[ he just lives and lives no matter what happens. he kills to stay in the good graces of a company that would leave him for dead again, and he knows it. knows they don't care. as long as it's worth it to him. as long as he has his research. his virus. ]
I should have killed you the second I saw you. When I first came back.
I think—that's still what Isabel Lovelace would do.
[ that's probably bad? she realizes this. like it's not great to cling to your mistakes and your failures. but letting them go would be worse. it would be an insult to their memory. ]
It doesn't matter if I'm the same person or not. Either way... I'm going to be Isabel Lovelace. From now on.
[ Nobody can do Isabel Lovelace better than Isabel Lovelace.
'From now on... so you're moving on, Captain?'
The figure finally turns, watching her, leaning against the console and not even trying to move out of the way of the gun. Whether she'll shoot or not, it's almost as if he already knows.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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'What're you going to do when we get back to Earth?'
'I think I miss the sun. All this metal and tech is starting to give me a little depression.'
'Well, only a little longer until we start heading back!' ]
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When does it stop?
No. Focus. Work. Be here. Be now. Don't stop to remember. Don't stop to think. Stay away from the ghosts.
... lovelace stands outside the door for a very, very long moment without entering. but what else is there to do but go in? even if it's not real. just ghosts. so she steps inside, and puts on a bright smile. ]
Enough. You people get plenty of sun, right? [ playful. a little gesture out the window! ] Just because it's the wrong one. Is nothing good enough for you?
no subject
'Oh, c'mon Captain! We're allowed to complain a little bit, right?'
'Like you're all about serious duty 24/7 yourself. But we promise, we did the sweep, nothing to alert about.'
Everything was just fine, once upon a time. In the day, they were just crew members on a mission, ready to knock it out of the park and return back home.
In the day. Night falls and the story becomes different.
'What noise? Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?' ]
no subject
[ she hadn't been getting enough sleep, back then. but she is now. same amount of sleep.
it took a long time to notice how wrong that was. mania and paranoia had turned to ritual, and eventually she just sort of... forgot that a normal person should sleep longer than four hours a night. when that was all her body needed, it felt natural. the new normal. ]
There's something here. Something with us. There always is. A rat. A monster.
[ a doctor. ]
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'We're on this mission with you. We're capable, too. We're a team. We trust everyone, right?'
Right? Surely. There was no way you could've known when the first person came down with Decima? ]
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[ best team she ever had. best people she's ever known. she's not sure if she's just playing along or if she doesn't want to let down their memories by being honest here. it feels like all she can do is just... roll with it.
don't jump ahead in the script.
and so, teasing: ] But the jury's still out on capable. How many days since the last engine room disaster?
[ nothing to worry about. not worth worrying about her. she's the one that lives. sort of. ]
... And where's Dr. Selberg? I've told him to be more... sociable with you nerds.
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'Dr. Selberg? I don't know. We haven't seen him actually.'
'Why? What's wrong?' ]
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[ it's no one's fault. not even rhea's. it's just that they're in hell. ]
Nothing, just wanted to talk to him about something. When was the last time you saw him?
[ we went from day to night... that's so long to not see him, there are only so many people on this ship. only so many places to hide away. ]
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The lights cut out, and so do the voices. You're in the room, empty, all on your own now, only the light flickering overhead.
The scurrying noise is back. ]
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deep breaths.
...... ]
Rhea? —Hera?
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No response from Hera.
You hear coughing in the distance. ]
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Sa—Lambert?
[ or eiffel? it's a different man. same place. same virus. variations on a theme. god, she hates this so much. ]
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As captain, it was your duty to keep your crewmates safe and alive, send them back home. Probably.
You can peer into the same room you had walked to in the earlier 'jump', seeing a sick person lying down atop a counter, wheezing. Too warm, feverish, a trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.
It could be either-or. In the end, it's someone who died on your watch. ]
no subject
even knowing that there's nothing she can do at this point, nothing she can do on her own, she'll still rush to his side. look around for anything she can give them to help - water or painkillers or anything else that won't cure him but might at least make it all a little more painless. she'll wipe the blood away from his mouth.
but the only one who could really help is selberg. ]
Where's the doctor?
[ will they even be able to answer?
does it even matter, when this has already happened? ]
no subject
Maybe that's Isabel's true sin -- just a failure of imagination, thinking about what she could've done different but it wasn't in your mind back then, who was responsible, who you overlooked, who was right under your nose, using your own crew like they were rats. The scurrying. Rats in the lab, a rat in your crew! Fucking rats.
Does it matter if you catch him, if you can't undo a thing? You can try. ]
no subject
lovelace makes sure her crewmate is comfortable before moving on. looking for dr. selberg with her gun already drawn. she can't undo it, and she knows that. even a time anomaly wouldn't help. wouldn't put her back here. not at this time.
but just letting it play out again in front of her exactly the same isn't something she can do. ]
no subject
The corridors loop around and around until it feels like you're the one in the maze, trying to seek a way out of a labyrinth, just a little test rat yourself.
Head towards the control room and you'll see your familiar doctor, inputting commands into the terminal. ]
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but probably not.
she'll point her gun at him! ]
Selberg.
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'Captain. You look well.'
'What brings you here?' ]
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I'm always here. Just like you're always here.
[ He never goes away. He never changes. ]
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'I suppose I am. We're lucky survivors, you and I.'
'What do you think about that?' ]
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[ he just lives and lives no matter what happens. he kills to stay in the good graces of a company that would leave him for dead again, and he knows it. knows they don't care. as long as it's worth it to him. as long as he has his research. his virus. ]
I should have killed you the second I saw you. When I first came back.
I think—that's still what Isabel Lovelace would do.
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'Isabel Lovelace...'
'The you from then and the you now. Do you think you're a different person now?'
'Or are you still the same person unable to let go of your failures?' ]
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[ that's probably bad? she realizes this. like it's not great to cling to your mistakes and your failures. but letting them go would be worse. it would be an insult to their memory. ]
It doesn't matter if I'm the same person or not. Either way... I'm going to be Isabel Lovelace. From now on.
[ so why isn't she shooting. she should shoot. ]
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'From now on... so you're moving on, Captain?'
The figure finally turns, watching her, leaning against the console and not even trying to move out of the way of the gun. Whether she'll shoot or not, it's almost as if he already knows.
'Who are you angry at here, exactly?' ]
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