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unholyhelbig · 4 years ago

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ISS Immortal | #HW203

Summary: Beca is sent on the mission of a lifetime when an odd signal is received from a ship that was meant to come home but never did.

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The air was cold in the cabin of the ship. Beca Mitchell had always expected space to be cold. There was an undeniable lack of oxygen and an even more undeniable lack of human life. She would place her nose as close to the glass as it could go and watch it fog up before using her finger to trace little designs onto the darkness.

She had read through every single book in her stash during these stretching three months. Each moment of her day was spent crossing tasks off of a checklist; make sure the windows are sealed. Refill the fuel used the night before, eat breakfast (She found that one odd until she nearly missed it a few nights in).

Beca started to reread the first novel that she picked up, her eyes wandering from the words to the vast emptiness outside. It wouldn’t be long before the shuttle made initial contact with the station on Jupiter.

It was a large and beautiful planet. Unpopulated for the most part. Her company had sent another ship before hers before they lost contact entirely. Beca��s main task, not the little ones that she put check-marks by each day, was to make contact, to swallow back her fear, and forget the static-filled final communication they had all heard.

The conference room was cold too; its walls were gray and the table that rested in the center was a dark mahogany. There was a tape recorder, its last button being pushed down as if to hold the black film in place. Aubrey Posen had her fingers pressed against one another. Her cuticles leaked crimson, which they had never done before.

Beca hated the way the chair squeaked when she sat down next to the woman. She hated the Chanel perfume that she wore and the way a charm bracelet with a little star jingled each time Aubrey shifted. Even more, she hated the way the woman stared at her, almost through her. She didn’t’ say anything, she hit the button.

1200 [10-31] Rodger. Clock.

1221 [10-31] Rodger. roll.

1222 [10-31] Rolls complete. Pitch is programed.

1223 [10-31] One bravo.

Beca clenched her jaw hard enough for it to ache. She imagined her teeth shattering. Aubrey had a stony look on her face and part of her wanted to mouth the words. She hadn’t slept. This was all standard protocol. What was Beca missing? She could run these codes in her sleep.

It burned her to hear Chloe’s voice on the tape. She sounded elated, her whole crew had been. Beca remembers the way, just five months ago, she melted into the woman’s touch. She had breathed in the licorice scent and pressed her nose into a fiery mane of hair. It was hard to let go then and hard to listen now.

Aubrey leaned forward and pushed another button on the recorder. Despite herself, Beca strained to listen to the words. They were too fast. When it finally stopped, her head pounded and her mouth was dry. Still- she sat quietly.

0900 [11-04] Houston to ISS Immortal.

0901 [11-04] Copy.

0901[11-04] Was wondering if you had AUTO optics selected. Over.

0902 [11-04] That’s Affirmative.

0903 [11-04] Roger. Looks like to us we need a PROCEED, Jessica, to get the sextant pointed at the star. Over.

They were taking pictures, marking every single star that the team before them hadn’t gotten to. Chloe had an eye for the probes and the lenses while Emily kept an amazing aim. Anyone would be proud of the team. Anyone would be proud to be there. Aubrey fast-forwarded the tape again.

0600 [11-22] ISS Immortal to Houston.

0600 [11-22] Copy.

0601 [11-22] Breach in line, hull point of ship took some damage. Over.

0602 [11-22] Stand by one.

0607 [11-22] intrusion breached. All good on our end. Over.

0608 [11-23] Nice work, Beale. Debris?

0612 [11-23] Bet you a cup of coffee on it.

0613 [11-23] Copy.

Aubrey drew in a shuddered breath. It made Beca’s lungs ache. She had forgotten about the cold of the room. The little strip of skin by her thumb had been effectively peeled away and the frigid atmosphere made it sting something fierce. Her superior reached to fast-forward the tape once more, but Beca found herself stopping her.

“wait,” she rasped. Her fingers were wrapped around Aubrey’s and they squeezed tight. “It wasn’t debris, was it?”

“No, it was. That’s what our team believes anyway.”

“Then what? They all… They all perished because of a natural thing. Something that we were all warned about when we signed up for this program. I don’t understand.”

“Something got in,” Aubrey whispered.

She hit the little button and Beca found herself withdrawing her touch. She placed her hands in her lap like she was sitting in the last pew in a church instead of in a stuffy board room with a woman who could barely keep her sweet emotions in check.

0614 [11-24] Houston to ISS Immortal

0614 [11-24] ISS Immortal, do you copy?

0614 [11-24] Copy. We copy. Medic standby.

0614 [11-24] Stacie? Over.

0614 [11-24] Negative, she’s indisposed. Over.

0615 [11-24] ISS Immortal, what is the issue?

0616 [11-24] Emily is sick. Stacie soon after.

“It started with a fever. That soon progressed to chills and vomiting. It was bile at first, whatever they could keep down. And then it was blood. Chloe said it was more than she had ever seen.” Aubrey leaned back in her chair. That stoic, medical side of her started to shine through again. But it was quickly outweighed by sadness. “They were the two who repaired the damage the day before.”

“It could have been anything,” Beca cupped the back of her neck and dug her nails into the soft skin until it burned.

“But it wasn’t, Beca. It was something none of us could explain. We heard it all.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You have to.”

“No.” She slammed the edge of her fist into the table. It shook that retched tape recorder and the chairs that remained unoccupied around them. Aubrey didn’t flinch, though her vacant stare made her regret the action. The side of her hand was numb and then it tingled with feeling. “You want me to listen to all of them die? My team? You think that’s easy for me?”

“It’s not supposed to be easy Beca. It’s going to prepare you.” She didn’t’ wait for another objection before starting the tape again. Beca wanted to plug her ears and scream until everything was drowned out. But instead, she rubbed the side of her hand and cursed herself for injuring it in the first place.

1245 [11-24] ISS Immortal to Houston

1245 [11-24] Copy

1246 [11-24] Emily is dead. Do you copy?

1249 [11-24] We copy.

1250 [11-24] What do we do now?

1253 [11-24] Standby. Over.

Beca felt as if she wanted to get sick herself. She regretted the big lunch. Chloe’s sullen words sunk to the bottom of her stomach like a ton of bricks. They had prepared them for everything, it seemed; the hull busting, running out of oxygen, every single machine aboard the ship failing them in a single moment. But not this; not some unknown illness.

“They put her,” Aubrey swallowed roughly “They put the body in the storage compartment and kept an eye on Stacie. That’s what Chloe said. It was the last thing… it was the last thing she said before what I’m about to play you next, and Beca?”

“Bree,”

“What you are about to hear does not leave this room. It doesn’t. And if it does I will not hesitate to put you in the ground myself. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

It seemed like an eternity before Aubrey finally hit the button. Once she did, there was nothing but static and distress. The formalities were gone and the screaming had stared. Beca wanted to move her fingers up to her throat because she knew theirs would be raw and torn and filling slowly with the taste of blood.

0467 [11-26] Houston… Fuck. Houston respond.

0469 [11-26] ISS Immortal, we’re here. You’ve been dark for two days. Over.

0470 [11-26] Bree? Bree is that you. God damn it, I’m so happy to hear your voice.

0471 [11-26] What’s happening up there, Chloe? Signal not clear.

0471 [11-26] She wasn’t dead, or maybe she was, and then whatever made her sick brought her back.

0471 [11-26] Emily?

0473 [11-27] Shit… yeah, yes. Emily. She was fine and then she wasn’t. And then there was blood. So much fucking blood.

0473 [11-27] Copy. Where are you now?

0476 [11-27] Houston to ISS Immortal, do you copy?

0478 [11-27] Chloe, do you copy?

0479 [11-27] I copy. I’m in the bottom brig. I can hear her walking above me. She can hear me too, I’m betting. I’m sorry, Aubrey. I knew you were counting on this to go well.

0479 [11-27] No, Chloe. It’s alright. Stay quiet.

0480 [11-27] You still owe me that cup of coffee.

0480 [11-27] Sure. We’ll go to that little shop on 9th. Stay quiet now, okay?

0497 [11-27] Houston to ISS Immortal.

0520 [11-27] ISS Immortal, do you copy?

Beca had been going through the motions, keeping her mind focused on those little tasks that she was given. She didn’t’ know the difference between day and night, fine and far from it. When her eyelids did grow heavy enough to close, she would hear Chloe’s voice. The screaming and the static, and she would jolt awake.

Aubrey had called this a rescue mission, but it felt more like suicide to the young pilot. They held onto false hope that Chloe had somehow made it, that the thing… whatever it was, that took all of them, moved on and left them to their own devices.

Chloe was strong, she was determined, and she scared the hell out of Beca on a good day. But it wasn’t a good day, it was a bad one. It was the worst one that Beca could remember. The rest had blurred into games of chess with herself, that horrible crackling static of the radio, and her own foolish hope.

She was awoken one night, or maybe it was day, to the sound of an easy alarm and the flashing red light of the controls on the right panel. A foreign object had struck the side of the craft and the radio was crackling with noise. She was sweating despite the cold.

“Houston to ISS Condemnation, do you copy? Beca do you copy?”

Aubrey’s voice was frantic. She groaned as she pulled herself out of the uncomfortable position that she had landed in. Her neck was aching, a pinch moving down her arm and to the base of her skull each time she quirked it a certain way.

“Yes, I copy.”

“Our sensors are going haywire, is everything okay up there?”

Beca looked around at the packaged meals that were strewn about and the black and white chess pieces that threatened to float through the air had they not been secured. She traced her fingers over the patch on her breast and the other on her wrist.

She pressed the small button on the side of the radio “I bet you a cup of coffee it was debris.”

#HW203 #HW2020 #Pitch Perfect #Pitch Perfect Horror Week #Horror Week #Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Bechloe fanfiction #Day 3: Final Girls

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