#I don't even know what's happening just uh oh spagettio time until he gets saved or something

[tothestarsskypilot]

@silver-wings-novel

Mehhhh, I tried to write that one part of the Space AU you had written previously with Cooper and Chip, but from Peter’s perspective as something for you to read -- not gonna even bother to email it since it’s not crazy long, I’ll just post it under a read more. I’m not exactly sure what you had planned plot wise, so if anything is off, I’m sorry!

Peter’s perspective

 Apart from the lights on the ship’s control panel, the distant glow of stars were the only things lighting up the cabin of the Orion’s control room.

 It wasn’t unusual for me to power the ship down to its basic functions as I worked inputting information in my logs. Less energy output meant less of a chance of being picked up on someone’s radar, which was something drilled into our heads back at basic training. It was supposed to keep you safe from Space Pirates, or so they’d have you believe.

 With the way the Intergalactic Military went on about piracy, you’d think the entire cosmos would be crawling with them, but I could count on one hand the amount of times I’d seen pirates, and only once had I actually had to jump to FTL flight to elude one.

 Still, I followed my training; I’d powered down to basic functions and got to work scanning and cataloging the things I could scan from the spot I chose to drift in – the stars, the elements present, radiation levels, etc. Anything that could possibly be of use.

 “There’s an incoming call from the Galactic Guard, Peter,” Orion stated, its voice pulling my attention away from the screen I’d been plugging numbers into and over to the main monitor where the AI’s cute form currently sat wagging its tail.

 “Thanks, Orion,” I said, standing from my seat and making my way over to the telecom, “Go ahead and patch it through for me.”

 “Right away,” Orion said, before the telecom monitor lit up with the face of some uniformed member of the Galactic Guard.

 “This is Galactic Guardsmen Peter Sanders of the SS Orion,” I stated upon having a visual on the man, and gave a salute.

 “Guardsman Sanders,” The uniformed man began, “You’ve been flagged for your yearly review. The Galactic Guard requests that you report to the Intergalactic Military base immediately.”

 “Already, Sir?” I said, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut, “I was just reviewed; it hasn’t even been four months,”

 He shrugged somewhat apologetically, “I’m just reporting what I see; it says you’ve been flagged for review.”

 I swallowed and gave an understating nod, “I’ll be there, sir. Sanders out.”

 I disconnected from the telecom, confused and not entirely sure what I’d done to warrant such a sudden call back for another review.

 I walked back to the control panel and punched in the coordinates of the area I’d been studying before finishing the logs. My finger hovered over the upload button that would send all the information I’d gathered back to the Galactic Guard’s database, but the weird feeling in my gut remained.

 After all the fishy stuff Cooper and I had uncovered, whatever it was exactly that we had uncovered, we weren’t even sure at this point, but we knew something was up – it made me feel very uneasy sending anything back to the military.

 Instead, I moved everything I’d just documented to a private file.

 “Orion, I want you to keep this log encrypted until it’s opened by either Cooper or Chip.”

 “Understood,”

 “Now can you patch me through to the Lacerta?”

 I could hear the pinging sound of the ship making the call, and a familiar voice soon filled the cabin of my ship, though it wasn’t either of the two people I was hoping to reach – in fact, it wasn’t a person at all.

 “Peter,” the Lacerta’s AI answered, and I said a polite hello back as his digital form walked onto my monitor screen and waved, “Both of your crew members appear to be busy at the moment. Would you like me to relay a message?”

 “Yeah, could you tell them I’ll be a little late getting back to the ship? I’ve been summoned for my yearly review. Again.” I tried to stretch the significance of the last word.

 “I’ll pass the message along,” Lacerta said, before pulling his goggles down and diving into the bottom of my screen as if it were a pool of water.

 I made my way over to the control panel, reaching out and flipping and toggling the necessary things to power on what I’d need for flight, than sat down and punched in the coordinates to the Intergalactic Military base.

 It was about several hundred parsecs from my current location, but in FTL flight, it wouldn’t take me too long to arrive. I reasoned I’d be able to make it there and back to the Lacerta in time for dinner.

 I was wrong.

 ----

 Decreasing from FTL flight to an average cruising speed, I found myself in front of the large free orbiting Military base.

 “This is the SS Orion requesting permission to dock,” I radioed in, and after a few moments, a woman’s voice granted me permission and directed me towards loading dock E.

 I locked and docked up, shut down my ship and made my way to the exit doors. Standing in front of the exit, I input the door code, but didn’t immediately exit when it lifted open.

 Right in front of the E loading dock entrance stood two uniformed men near a shuttle car. I could tell by the way they alerted at my arrival that they were there for me, though why I wasn’t sure, seeing as I’d never once been escorted in such a way, especially for a standard review.

 I knew my earlier instincts were right. Something was off.

 I felt like I was in trouble but for the life of me I couldn’t think of anything illegal I’d done, unless maybe I landed on a protected planet without knowing it.

 I pretended to adjust my uniform in the hopes it would buy me a second to speak with my ship, “Orion,” I whispered, as I fiddled with the com-tool on my wrist and started a countdown. “If I’m not back by the time my com-tool reaches zero, I want you to send out a distress signal on a private channel for the Lacerta and Vulpecula.”

 “Understood,” Orion said, “And be careful.” The concern seemed heavy in its synthetic voice.

 I patted the cold frame of the ship as I exited as if to placate it, “I’ll try, buddy.”

 The two uniformed men were next to me before I could finish closing my ship.

 “Guardsman Sanders.” It was a statement, not a question.

 “Yes, Sir?” I confirmed and inquired at the same time.

 I was hoping they would explain what was happening and why they were here, but all I got was a stiff, “This way” before being hastily escorted to the awaiting shuttle. We were barely in it long enough for me to buckle my seat belt before it started hovering and took off.

 The atmosphere in the shuttle was awkward and tense, especially since I sat sandwiched between the two men. It worried me that they seemed to think I required such heavy guarding. Just where was I being taken that I’d think jumping from a moving shuttle midflight would be more preferable than reaching the destination?

 My question was somewhat answered when the shuttle left the busy hustle and bustle of the main military hub and landed in an oddly quiet and forlorn area I’d never been to. Exiting the shuttle, I was ushered into a long hallway; it was gloomy and gray, and if not for the even spacing of led lights, it would have been pitch black. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, eerily silent except for the sounds of our boots on the floor panels and the rustling of our uniforms.

 The hall finally opened up into a fairly large, better-lit room filled with several desks, and each desk was filled with a uniformed person typing away on halo-screens. Their uniforms had MP on the sleeve, so I presumed it was safe to assume that I was in the Military Police station, though we must have come in the back entrance since I knew the front entrance was lit up like Christmas and a lot more inviting.

 I was led further still through the building, past the desks of busy people, and into another hallway, thought this one was smaller in diameter and somewhat claustrophobic. There were small halo-screens on the wall every twenty feet or so, which I thought was odd, but pushed to the back of my mind once the man leading me stopped in front of one of the illuminated halo-screens. He typed something into it and the section of walling slid apart to reveal a hidden room. It occurred to me then that the whole hallway must be filled with dozens of these concealed rooms.

 The room was dim except for a deeply disorienting bright imitation-fluorescent light directly above a metal table and two chairs. It looked like an interrogation room straight from the old movies back on Earth.

 I turned to the man who’d opened the door, “I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Those were the only words my brain managed to produce as I turned my attention back to the room.

 “Just wait here.” The man said, than rattled off a series of codes into his communication headpiece.

 “But, I’m just here for a review…” I added weakly. It was all I could say as I was guided into the small room and the door was slid shut behind me.

 Alone in the small room, the first thing I noticed was a large mirror built into the wall. From the many vintage movies I’d seen on Earth and watched with Chip and Cooper, I knew these where those creepy voyeuristic one-way mirrors that every crime show seemed to have. Had I been more brazen, and had my legs not felt like jelly, I might have flipped the bird at it in case anyone was watching, but I was admittedly scared and also didn’t want to dig any hole I might have accidentally dug myself any deeper, if I could help it. Instead, I sat at the table, choosing the seat that put my back towards the mirror. If someone was watching, I hope they enjoyed the view of the back of my head.

 After a significant amount of time had passed with no word from anyone, I chanced a glance at the com-tool on my wrist. According to the countdown time, it had nearly been a full two hours since I’d set it.

 No sooner then I’d looked at my com-tool did the door slide open, revealing two men, one in a typical, if not fancier and higher ranked, Intergalactic Military uniform; the other man’s uniform was one I hadn’t seen before. It was dark in color, oddly simple in its design, and lacking any identifying markings or insignia, but there was no mistaking in that it was military in nature.

 The oddly uniformed man exchanged a few brief words with the other man who in turn excused himself from the room. When the door slid shut, the man turned to face me, an odd hint of a smirk that really seemed out of place on his face.

 “Guardsman Sanders,” He stated, not offering his name in return, but I nodded in confirmation anyways. “Do you know why you were called here today?” He asked as he sat down opposite me, tossing a halo-pad on the table in front of him; I could see that my Military record was pulled up on it, but I couldn’t read what it said from where I sat.

 “I was told it was for a review, but,” I gestured to the room and laughed uncomfortably, “This ain’t like any review I’ve ever done,” The man didn’t laugh with me but continued to stare intensely in my direction. “Am I in trouble for something?” I finally asked.

 The man ignored my question, instead asking one of his own. “Tell me, Sanders, do you love your planet?” The man now sat with his fingers steepled in front of his face, seemingly studying me as I answered.

 “Of course, Sir.” I wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything.

 “Then tell me why you and your fellow crewmates would commit treason?”

 If I had been drinking something, this is where I would have done a comical spit take, but I wasn’t drinking anything and nothing about the situation was funny, so instead I widened my eyes and let my jaw drop in utter bewilderment.

 “Treason?” I repeated the man’s accusation, “Treason?” I repeated again for good measure. “I can assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 “Of course you’re going to play dumb. They all do,” the man said dryly, wiping at his uniform, though nothing was actually there for him to brush off.

 “Really, I have no idea — treason? Really?” Not a compelling argument on my part, I admit.

 I was hoping this would turn out to be some sort of elaborate joke, some kind of soldier hazing or prank gone a little too far, but nobody came bursting through the door laughing, and the man sitting in front of me certainly wasn’t laughing either.

 “I’ve never done anything wrong out there, at least that I’m aware of, Sir,” I said, “Did I land on a protected planet? I admit, I may have. If I did, it was to save someone who sent out a distress signal,” I offered up, though I wasn’t sure how that could be considered treason. “Or did I fly in an off limits area?”

 I was grasping at straws at this point; all our electronic maps were clearly labeled with where was safe to fly and what was protected or what was off limits airspace. The maps themselves were directly uploaded from the Intergalactic Military servers and updated continuously in live time, so I’d know if I flew somewhere I shouldn’t have – alarms would have rang! – But my job was charting the unexplored regions of space; there really weren’t a whole lot of places I wasn’t allowed to go.

 “If only it were something so trivial,” The man stood from his seat, “Very well. I don’t believe that you don’t know anything—”

 “I don’t.” I interrupted, crossing my arms in a moment of defiance.

 “Of course you don’t,” He rebuffed dryly, “But, if you don’t, maybe one of your crewmates will.”

 I jolted upright and uncrossed my arms to smack them onto the table, “You leave them out of this!”

 The man laughed a sneering sort of laugh, “Oh, it’s “Sacrifice the one for the all,” is it?” He made his way towards the wall where the door was, never taking his eyes off me, “I highly doubt your loyal crewmates will let that happen, though,” His eyes drifted to the table momentarily, and I could tell by the small upward tug on the corner of his mouth that he was pleased with something. “Besides, the SS Lacerta is already being signaled to turn itself over. It’s government property, and as of now, you and the Lacerta crew are fugitives.”

 My heart dropped. The lives that Chip, Cooper, and I had all had worked so hard for was over in an instant.

 The man went quiet a moment, then walked closer to the table and leaned in to whisper threateningly, yet, somehow in awe of what he was saying, “You and your friends are meddling in things you can’t even begin to imagine.”

 I jolted back putting some distance between the man and me, but maintained eye contact as I furrowed my brow at him. Feeling angrier and more upset than I ever had in my life, I leaned forward, and in a voice that seemed completely detached from the situation, I smiled, no, smirked, as I spoke calmly though it tasted acidic in my mouth, “Just what did we find out there that has you shitting the bed, Sir.”

 My heart pounded in my chest, betraying the suddenly detached demeanor I’d adopted, as the man started me down, his jaw clenching slightly. For a moment I thought he was going to hit me, but then he drew back and smiled.

 “We’ll meet again,” He simply said, before turning and making his way to the wall. He rapped against it once, and it slid open. As he exited he turned, and we maintained steady eye contact all the way up until the door closed.

 Alone, I slid down in my seat, releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Our lives were over. This only confirmed Cooper’s and my suspicion that the whole Intergalactic Military was up to something fishy; it was some sort of conspiracy.

 Angry, scared, and beyond upset, I tried to catch my breath as I let my eyes drift to the spot that had caused the strange man to nearly smile to himself. I felt like I’d been doused in a bucket of ice water when I released he’d been eyeing the com-tool on my wrist; the screen was flashing, alerting that the countdown had reached zero. It was with great dread I realized I must have done exactly what he’d expected and wanted me to do — I’d sent out a distress signal that would lure my crewmates directly to me, right into the corrupt clutches of the very organization we were once sworn to protect.