#glen ptahfi

[whumpapalooza]

AI-less Whumptober '24 - Oct 3

I enjoyed making this, thank you for the prompt @ailesswhumptober!

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault

COSMIC SERVICE INTERNSHIP – AEGIS ASSIGNMENT YEAR 1, MONTH 3, WEEK 3

Glen was so dizzy he didn’t even feel the headache yet. He groaned. His vision was a blur of silver and gold. With every blink, silver melted into gray metal, and gold sharpened into the brassy scales of his starcraft's physician. “Slipper?”

“Yes.”

"Feels like everything's spinning."

Slipper gave an affirming hum. “That’s normal for head injuries. We were injured in a crash. Get more rest.”

Glen scrutinized each word before understanding what he was told. “Wait - we…”

“I am fine,” Slipper said. “My injuries are addressed." And he swiftly added, "My pain is mild. Rest.”

“…We’ve had this conversation before,” Glen realized. “Sorry.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Slipper said. “It's not your fault. Rest."

Glen closed his eyes to do so - but in the silence, his mind’s eye pulled memories of the crash. He gave a flat huff of recognition. “Ugh. Right, pirates. Moon. Atmosphere. Yeah.” Then, before Slipper could say it, he added, “Rest. Sorry.”

Glen drifted close, but not into, sleep. Then the human tensed with a sudden thought. Prepared, Slipper said, “I will wake you if there is an emergency." And finally, Glen could rest.

[whumpapalooza]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 15

ALT - wild animal attack

thanks @whumperless-whump-event for organizing this event! happy to participate!

COSMIC SERVICE INTERNSHIP – AEGIS ASSIGNMENT YEAR 1, MONTH 5, WEEK 2

The whole situation was probably avoidable, but of course it didn't go that way. One attack and a hasty race through the woods later, Glen and Tabby found themselves separated from the rest of Aegis's crew. They sat close together, pressed against the dirt wall of a ditch.

(Note: it is more accurate to say that Glen was propped up.)

“Chuck, you with me?” Tabby asked. “How bad did it get you?”

The mandibles had left seven puncture wounds, all connected by a shining welt that ran from the crook of his elbow to his palm. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but his skin felt like it was on fire and the pain wouldn’t let up.

Tabby reached out for permission to inspect the wound. Glen tried to hold it out for her – but as soon as he moved it, his skin felt like it would split. Glen gasped and threw his head back, trying to quiet the screaming pain.

“Ah, fuck,” Tabby hissed. “Don’t move, okay? Hang on.” She leaned in to meet his eyes. “Seriously, please, do not move. Acidic tongue – that can’t spread.”

Glen was too dizzy to nod. “Got it,” he breathed – but even the slight vibration from his voice sent tendrils of searing pain through him. Glen focused on deliberately breathing and tried not to spin with the rest of the world.

[whumpapalooza]

COSMIC SERVICE INTERNSHIP - AEGIS ASSIGNMENT YEAR 1, MONTH 7, WEEK 2

Nearly two years into their assignment, the interns aboard Aegis are keenly aware of one another's well-being. Glen Ptahfi has a condition known as Atmospheric Hypersensitivity Disorder, which causes vertigo.

Glen yawned as the elevator started to rise, and his ears popped. At once, a wave of dizziness washed over him, sending Glen tottering sideways. He grabbed onto the wall for support. Oh, great. It’s one of those days.

He emerged onto the top floor with steps slow but steady. When he got to the dining hall, he found Tabby and Brando already there, Brando resting his head on his arms while Tabby ate. The latter looked up from her breakfast.

“G’wake, Chuck,” she called. Brando added a muffled greeting.

“Good wake,” Glen said. He sat across the table from them.

“No breakfast?” Tabby noted.

“Eh. Not hungry,” Glen admitted. His head swirled, and he sucked in a breath through his nose.

“You okay?” Tabby asked.

“Hm…” Glen said noncommittally.

Brando lifted his head to rest his chin on his arms. “Is your AHS acting up?”

“Hm,” Glen said again. “I’m okay.”

Tabby and Brando exchanged a glance. Tabby got to her feet. “I’ll get you some water,” she offered.

“Thanks,” Glen murmured. He heard her footsteps retreat, and the kitchen door slide open and closed.

“You going to be okay today?” Brando asked.

“I hope so.” Glen pulled his hands away from his eyes. “I took a day off last week.”

Brando huffed. “You know that’s not how the whole chronic illness thing works, right?” Glen shrugged. “I’m sure Blare won’t give you a hard time. She gets it.”

“Oh, I know,” Glen said. “She’s usually the one who –“ Glen broke off as his head spun, his hands grasping for the table in an effort to stay upright. He stared blankly and inhaled through his teeth.

Brando sat up. He reached out, hand inches from Glen’s. “Breathe, buddy,” he said.

Glen nodded. He took a few deep breaths and kept his eyes fixed on Brando’s hand.

“Glen, look at yourself. You’re not in any shape to work today,” Brando said.

“Hm,” Glen said.

The kitchen door slid open. Tabby’s voice floated to Glen’s ears. “You don’t look so good, Chuck.”

“You both make great self-image coaches,” Glen murmured.

“We’re just worried about you,” Tabby said.

Brand leaned forward. “Will you let us get you back to your cabin – please?”

Glen took in a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and his head swam dangerously. He lifted his eyelids and sighed. “Okay,” he said.

Together, Brando and Tabby pulled him to his feet and threw his arms over their shoulders. As a unit, they made their way back to the elevator. They took it down to the living quarters, arrived at Glen’s cabin door, and got him settled back in bed.

“We’ll check in on you at lunch,” Tabby assured. And then, after wishing him better health, they left.

Glen sighed and stared upwards. He just wanted to sleep it off, but he didn’t want to aggravate the spinning by closing his eyes. He settled for a half-lidded gaze fixed on his ceiling.

[whumpapalooza]

AI-less Whumptober '24 - Day 23

Thanks, @ailesswhumptober!

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

Glen passes out unexpectedly!

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker

(Space Interns Masterpost)

(Part 1) (2) (3)

Glen’s head pulsed with every beat of his heart. His fingers loosened, and the condense drive core rolled onto the desk. Glen lowered his omnigadget.

The pain was too much. Glen couldn’t focus anymore. He leaned back against Slipper’s chair and closed his eyes. “Aegis Medical Bay,” he murmured, “reduce all lights to 5 percent.” The craft obeyed.

And Glen fell asleep.

Glen awoke to the sound of the Med Bay door unlocking. His eyes snapped open, but the pain in his head was paralyzing. Glen couldn’t find the strength to get to his feet, to do anything to defend himself.

The door slid open. Glen heard footsteps approach. Then a bottle of pills was placed in front of him.

“Take these.”

Glen’s eyes darted over to the side. He saw one of Seraph's crew – the woman with green hair – folding her arms.

“I’m not getting you water,” she said. “Just take the damn pills.”

Glen reached out, his fingers shaking, and uncapped the bottle. He took three pills and popped them into his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the woman said. Then she reached forward, snatched the bottle from Glen’s hands, and stomped out the way she’d come.

The door locked behind her.

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

(Space Interns Masterpost)

“Starcraft Seraph, you are being hailed by starcraft Aegis,” Blare said.

All five of Aegis’s crew were gathered in the tractor beam bay. Glen and Blare sat side-by-side on the bench at the console. Glen had rigged up an outdated communication device and was helping Blare contact their next mission.

A UCD – Unresponsive Craft in Doldrums – had been reported. UCDs were often cases of power surges; knocked power could disable both drives and communication. In most cases, UCDs just needed a jolt.

But this particular UCD should have had backup power. Glen knew this because it was Seraph, a fellow intern craft. Seraph’s docking port was right next to Aegis’s. Glen had met Seraph’s pair of engineers before.

Seraph had been on a mission, but was unresponsive for days. When it was located, it was approaching orbit of a Class 4 planet. Aegis was assigned to take care of it.

“Starcraft Seraph, you are being hailed by starcraft Aegis,” Blare repeated. She enunciated every word. “Please provide your Gamma code.”

There was a beat of silence, and then a crackly sound came from the speaker – a series of words that Glen didn’t recognize.

Blare looked up at Glen. “That’s their code,” she said. “It’s definitely them.” Glen opened the comm. “Starcraft Seraph, can we provide assistance?” Blare asked.

A beat of silence. “Please. We need all hands on deck. We have injured.”

Blare’s head snapped up. She looked over at Slipper, who patted his medicine pack. Glen opened the comm, and Blare said, “We are prepared to board your craft and assist.”

Silence for one beat, two beats. Then, “How many are you?”

“Five,” Blare replied.

After a few moments of silence, the crackly voice said, “We have only four tractor beam chambers.”

“And I thought our craft was small,” Tabby muttered dryly.

Blare looked over at Glen, who waved a hand to indicate it was not a problem. “I can send you all over,” he said. “I’ll set a timer for myself separately.”

Blare nodded. “We can come in two trips,” she said over the comm.

“You’re heavensent, Aegis,” said Seraph’s representative. “We won’t forget this kindness.”

After ending communication, Blare gestured to the tractor beam chambers. Brando, Slipper, and Tabby stepped up and into the chambers while Glen primed the console. “Their system’s still online,” he remarked. “That’s lucky.”

“So, easy beam?” Blare asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right behind you.”

Blare hopped onto her pedestal. “See you there,” she said cheerily.

Glen gave a thumbs-up. “See you there,” he said. Then he activated the tractor beam. His crew’s feet lifted from the ground, and then they vanished. The tractor beam sent them from Aegis to Seraph.

Glen felt the console buzzing under his fingertips. He waited for it to stop, to indicate that the tractor beam had been successful – but the console continued to hum.

Frowning, Glen counted to ten. Tractor beams were only supposed to take five seconds at most. But still, the console hummed.

“C’mon, you silly ship,” Glen muttered, patting the console. “I’ve got to get over there, too.”

The console’s only reply was to hum louder and buzz harder. Glen leaned in to listen to the parts. If he didn’t know any better, then he would say they were receiving a tractor beam instead of sending one.

Did the beam fail? Are they being sent back?

Then, four figures materialized in the tractor beam chambers. Glen’s head snapped up.

It wasn’t his crew. It was four humans, all wearing uniforms just like Glen and his crew, but there was blood all over them.

Glen’s eyes widened. “What –“

One of the humans, her blonde hair caked with blood, stepped out of her chamber and reached for something on her belt. Glen's heart sank when he recognized it as a beamer – a sonic weapon. She pointed it at Glen’s face. “Step away from the console,” she commanded.

Glen backed away and raised his hands. “Okay – okay, yeah. My crew – are they -"

The other three stepped from their chambers. A man with his arm in a sling curled his lip. “You don’t get to ask questions,” he snapped.

“Sorry,” Glen said. “I don’t really know how this works.”

“You either shut up or die,” said the woman with the beamer. “I don’t care which.”

“Okay,” Glen said. He couldn’t help but continue. “But that’s a non-lethal weapon, so –“ He broke off as the other three pulled out their own beamers and pointed them at Glen’s head. “Okay. Yes, four will kill me,” he conceded.

A woman with neon green hair took a step towards Glen. “What part of shut up do you not understand?” she snarled.

“Sorry – sorry,” Glen said.

“You’re the engineer, right?” asked the woman with blood in her hair. Glen nodded. “So you know how to fix this?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a mechanical sphere.

Glen lifted his head. “That’s a condense drive core,” he said.

“I know what it is!” the woman growled. “Can you fix it or not?”

Glen swallowed. “Um…I mean, it depends what’s wrong with it,” he said. “But –“

Just then, a familiar voice crackled through the comm. “Aegis to – well, Seraph to Aegis, I guess,” Blare said. “Glen, are you there?”

“Don’t even think about answering that,” the woman with green hair spat.

“Okay,” Glen said. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Glen, are you there? The comm is rigged up on this end, but there’s no one here.” Blare sounded suspicious.

“Can you fix this?” the blonde woman repeated, holding up the condense drive core.

“I can’t promise anything,” Glen said, “but I can try.”

This answer satisfied them. They lowered their beamers. “Good choice,” said the woman with the core. She turned her back and started giving orders in a low voice.

Glen watched them for a few moments. Then, before he could think himself out of it, Glen lunged forward and grabbed the comm.

The woman with green hair raised her beamer. “Shoot him!” she shrieked. The others raised their weapons.

Glen ducked behind the console. He crouched, holding the comm close to his chest. He spoke quickly.

“Ptahfi to Seraph!” he shouted. “Guys, they came here! They’re armed! They’re –“

But before Glen knew it, the console was surrounded by the hijackers. Glen looked up as the woman with bloody blonde hair raised her beamer to Glen’s forehead.

She pulled the trigger.

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 16 NO WAY OUT Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs| “No one’s coming.”

(Space Interns Masterpost)

(Part 1) (2)

The core in Glen’s hand blurred with every blink. He rubbed his eyes.

He had woken up in the Med Bay with the doors locked from the outside. Seraph’s condense drive core was on Slipper’s desk, along with Glen’s omnigadget and a note.

Aegis engineer,

Incoming tractor beams have been disabled. No one’s coming for you.

Get to work.

-Seraph

Glen’s heart sank. And he got to work.

As he fidgeted with the core, his sight got worse. He tried to focus his eyes, to clear away the pale double that was splitting from the core – but when it only worsened, Glen put the core down and pressed his hands against his eyes.

“Ugh…” he moaned. “Aegis Medical Bay, reduce all lights to 5 percent.” The lights dimmed.

Glen lowered his head and rubbed his temples. His head ached – but that’s what happens when you’re hit with a sonic weapon right in the forehead.

For a few moments, Glen allowed himself some respite, some self-pity. But then his face grew solemn.

No one’s coming for you, Glen reminded himself. You’ve got to play along.

Glen cleared his throat. “Aegis Medical Bay,” he said, “raise triage lights to 20 percent, and raise desk lights to 80 percent.” The craft responded to his command.

Glen picked up his omnigadget. He picked up the core. And with a sigh, he squinted and got back to work.

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

(Space Interns Masterpost)

(Part 1)

“Guys, they came here! They’re armed! They’re –“

Glen’s voice cut off. His line went dead.

Blare opened her line. “Glen, are you there?” she demanded. No answer. “Glen, respond!”

They waited. Nothing but silence answered. Blare exchanged a look with Slipper; she heard a low growl in the physician’s throat.

“We need to get back over there,” Tabby said.

“How?” Brando countered. “Do you know anything about how this craft works?”

Then a voice came from their speaker. “Crew of Aegis, this is Seraph helmswoman Jede.”

Blare opened the line. “Where’s Glen?” she growled.

“Relax, Aegis, he’s fine,” said Jede.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Tabby snarled from behind Blare. Brando nodded agreement.

Blare opened the line. “You’re lying,” she said.

“Maybe,” Jede said smugly. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What do you want?” Blare asked.

“We’ve already got it: an engineer.”

Blare frowned. “Why ours?” she asked. “Why not one of your own?”

Jede didn’t answer right away. “Check the brig,” she said eventually. “You’ll get all the answers you need there.”

From the sound of Tabby’s scoff, she didn’t like that answer. Blare opened the line and said, “We’re not going anywhere until we talk to Glen, first.”

"You’re aboard a UCD. I suggest you do what you’re told instead of pressing your luck.” Then the line went dead.

Blare opened the line. “Jede,” she said. There was no reply. She pursed her lips. She looked at Slipper, whose tail was flicking back and forth.

“What do we do?” Brando asked from behind them.

Blare had the same question. But she knew it was her job, as helmswoman, to answer it. She opened their line again. “Glen,” she said, “hang tight. We’re going to fix this.” Then she closed the line, turned to her crew, and said, “Let’s head for the brig.”

“You know where that is?” Tabby asked.

“Yes,” Blare said, leading the way. “This is a five-floor craft. It’s one floor above us.”

The others followed Blare out of the tractor beam bay, and they emerged into the dimly lit hall. The only lights were the red strips running along the baseboard. Blare walked to the rounded staircase at the windows and headed up.

As they ascended the staircase, Blare couldn’t help but cast a glance out the window. She could see Aegis. Her heart clenched.

On the next floor, she led them towards the center. The brig door was stuck open halfway.

“I smell blood,” Slipper said.

The hairs on the back of Blare’s neck raised. She swallowed. Then she stepped through the parted doors.

It was a round room with ten beds. Though there were no visible walls, the low hum of electricity told Blare that one of the forcefields was activated.

“Aegis…I’m guessing?”

They all jumped and turned sharply at the voice. Blare’s heart was pounding in her throat as she peered through the gloom. There was someone lying in bed in one of the cells.

He wore the same uniform boots and pants as they did, but he’d removed his shirt. His side was bandaged, but the bandages were soaked. Blood dropped from the bed onto a pool on the floor. He had a bruise over the half of his face that they could see.

Slipper’s frills spread. No doubt the physician’s instinct was to rush to the injured man’s side.

Blare held a hand out to bar Slipper from moving. It might be a trap. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Engo.” The man’s voice was hoarse.

“The blood’s his own,” Slipper whispered to Blare. “I can sense his vitals. He is no threat.”

Blare furrowed her brow. She lowered her hand and Slipper hurried to the forcefield. Blare, Tabby, and Brando followed closely. Blare saw that the panel was already unlocked and hit the key to shut off power. The humming electricity stopped, and Slipper rushed to Engo’s side.

Slipper muttered to himself as he started to peel back bandages. Then he raised his voice. “How did this happen?” he asked.

“Bit by a…star dog,” Engo rasped.

Slipper curled his lip. “You’re lying,” he said. “I smell burned flesh.”

Blare’s stomach rolled. She swallowed back her disgust and forced out an even voice. “You lie as easily as your helmswoman,” she said. Engo’s face relaxed, like the thought comforted him. “Jede said that we’d find our answers here. Well? What’s going on?”

Engo opened his glassy eyes and met Blare’s gaze. He spoke in slow exhales. “Half of our crew is dead.”

Blare heard Brando give a slight gasp. She felt like her blood had iced over.

“You can go ahead and…check the Med Bay,” Engo continued. He licked his dry lips. “Because they’re all there. What’s…what’s left of them, anyway.”

“You’re lying,” Blare said. It had to be another lie - but she didn’t like how sincerely Engo had spoken.

“Go ahead…check,” Engo suggested.

“Blare,” said Tabby. “I’ll go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Brando offered.

“No,” Tabby insisted. “Only one person needs to see it. I can do it.”

Blare closed her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Stay on comm the whole time, though.”

Tabby tapped her chest and opened the comm line. “You’ve got it,” she said, her voice echoing both in the brig and in Blare’s head. “Where is it?”

“Next floor up,” Blare said. Tabby nodded and left the brig.

Engo rested his head back on his pillow. A tear rolled down his bruised face. Minutes passed. Slipper cleaned and dressed the wound in silence.

And finally, they heard Tabby’s voice in their heads.

“Blare, I’m at the Med Bay,” she said softly. “It’s not a lie.”

[whumpapalooza]

Ooh, can I submit another ask? I just noticed "The patient has left the building" on Bad Things Happen Bingo and that reeeallly caught my eye!

Am a big fan of patients escaping tropes!

PROMPT: the patient has left the building CHARACTER: Glen Ptahfi (Space Intern ocs)

Of course you can submit another ask!! This is not the only time you'll see this trope from me, my friend. I am also a big fan! Thanks so much for the submission!

And, as always, thanks to @badthingshappenbingo for the card!

(Space Interns Masterpost)

(Rudi’s Bad Things Happen Bingo Card)

After the mission was over and the medicine kicked in, Slipper kicked Blare out of Med Bay and instructed Glen to rest.

Glen leaned his head back on the soft Med Bay pillow. He closed his eyes. For nearly an hour, Glen was still, quiet, and peaceful – but he didn’t fall asleep. He took some deep breaths, but didn’t fall asleep. He counted backwards from 600, but he didn’t fall asleep.

Glen opened his eyes. He looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers.

The medicine that Slipper had given him was working. He felt no pain. His mind was a gooey slime pit. He couldn’t even remember why he’d been given the medicine in the first place, but he knew he was exhausted. So why couldn’t he sleep?

Glen turned on his side. He readjusted himself until he felt comfortable, and closed his eyes again. His face pressed against the pillow; Glen could hear his own heartbeat and feel his own breaths warm against his cheek. It’s kind of creepy, he thought.

Glen’s breathing should have been a natural lullaby. But for some reason, Glen heard his heart beat faster and faster with every inhale. A strange sensation trickled through his chest, and Glen felt tears prick the backs of his eyelids.

Glen’s eyes snapped open. What was that? He sat up. I feel…weird. His vision blurred with tears. His muscles were tense, and his mind was racing – but only one thought was powerful enough to make it past Slipper’s medicine.

I have to get out of here.

Glen swung his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet touched the warm floors of Aegis, and he stood. He swayed, steadied himself, and made for the door.

On the other side, Slipper stood at his desk with his back to Glen. Blood roared in Glen’s ears.

But Slipper’s my friend, Glen thought. I’m safe.

Still, a defiant flare burned in Glen’s chest. I have to get out of here!

Glen sidled against the wall, his feet barely lifting from the floor, until he reached the hallway. He turned his back on Med Bay and started walking briskly down the hall. He passed Brando’s lab and walked a little faster. He passed Tabby’s lab, and then he broke into a run until he made it to the double doors that led to the tractor beam bay.

Glen wasn’t wearing his uniform, so the doors didn’t open automatically. He quickly tapped the code onto the keypad. The doors finally parted, and Glen rushed between them before they’d opened all the way. They closed behind him.

Glen looked around, his thoughts still slime-slow. He just kept thinking, I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here.

Glen’s eyes landed on the tractor beam console. His feet started to take him toward it. His fingers itched with coordinates that his mind wasn’t fast enough to recognize. I’m going to get out of here, he thought.

He tripped on the second stair up, but Glen made it up to the console and stared down at the desk. His hand hovered over the hand sensor in the center of the console when he heard a whir.

Glen lifted his head to see Slipper and Blare standing in the doorway.

“Glen, what are you doing?” Blare asked.

Glen’s mind felt less like slime now. Instead, it felt like something gelatinous being jostled back and forth. His mind was racing, but nothing made sense – except that one thought.

“I have to get out of here,” Glen said in a pleading tone.

“Yes, and back to Medical Bay,” Slipper replied.

“What he means,” Blare said, stepping forward, “is that you really shouldn’t be going anywhere right now.”

“I have to get out of here,” Glen repeated, softer.

“We’ll get you out of here, okay?” Blare soothed. “Wherever you need to go, we’ll go. Just…come with us so we can make sure you’re okay, first.”

Glen looked between the pair. They’re my friends. I can trust them.

But…I have to get out of here. I have to. I’m not going to – I’m not going to –

“I’m not going to die here!” Glen shouted.

His words were followed by nothing but his own heavy breathing; Blare and Slipper were stunned. Finally, Blare said, somewhat confused, “You’re safe, Glen.”

Glen shook his head. “No.” He looked back down at the desk and initiated the console. He heard Blare faintly telling him to stop. “No, I have to get out of here.”

I just have to get out of here, and then…

Glen’s hand hovered over the coordinate pad.

And then…

His fingers were trembling too hard for him to tap any one key.

…Then what?

Glen blinked.

He looked up. His eyes met with Slipper’s, then Blare’s. His thoughts felt fluid, quick. He felt like himself. “Blare?” he said quietly.

Blare’s eyes lit up. She and Slipper both rushed up to the console while Glen looked down at his hand and realized what he was doing. He withdrew his hand and took a step back, but his knee was too weak to support him.

Slipper gripped Glen’s arm and pulled him up before he could hit the floor. Glen looked up at him in alarm. “What’s…” He trailed off, suddenly too tired to finish the question.

Blare lifted Glen by the other arm. “C’mon,” she said to Slipper. “The bench.”

Together, the two hoisted Glen up and onto the console’s bench. Blare sat beside him while Slipper started examining him.

“State your name.”

He did.

“What year were you born?”

He answered.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Glen’s memories felt like pictures drawn in sand. “I don’t know why I’m here,” he admitted. “I just felt like – overwhelming panic. I couldn’t think straight. I was…so scared.”

Slipper and Blare exchanged a glance. Slipper’s nostrils flared as he looked back at Glen. “Your serotonin levels have dropped precipitously,” he remarked.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Blare said. “Is this normal?”

Slipper turned his head to meet Blare’s eye. “Remember, Remorial hasn’t been tested,” he said. “All non-tested drugs have non-recorded side effects.”

Glen furrowed his brow. What was Slipper saying?

“So, how long before it’s all out of his system?” Blare asked. “That’s when the side effects will stop, right?”

“Sometimes side effects linger,” Slipper said, “but the Remorial barely functioned for the time it did. I doubt its side effects will last longer than a day, maybe two.”

“Until then, we can take turns keeping him company,” Blare suggested.

Slipper dipped his head. “That would be wise.”

“What are you talking about?” Glen asked.

Slipper’s voice was patient, but Glen had the strangest feeling that he was repeating himself. “You’re having a reaction to your exposure to the drug Remorial,” Slipper said.

Glen tilted his head. “Remorial…?”

Blare tilted her head. “You don’t remember?” she asked. “You –“

“We can explain everything to you,” Slipper said, “but first we’re returning you to Medical Bay.”

Glen let the pair pull him to his feet. They threw their arms over his shoulders and started to shuffle him across the floor.

And when Glen was finally settled back in his bed in Med Bay, he wasn’t alone; Blare took the first shift at his bedside.

[whumpapalooza]

Meadow

For @theonlythingimfuckingisstupid! Thanks for the submission! :)

(One Word Prompts 3)

(Space Interns Masterpost)

He could smell flowers.

He blinked awake and saw a star-speckled indigo sky. Two moons on the opposite ends of the horizon stared down at him like great eyes.

He raised a hand, tracing blades of grass and flower petals. A strange feeling crept over him; he didn’t recognize any of the plants. Panic spread through his blood. Where am I?

His skull thundered as he sat up. He hissed through his teeth and raised a hand to his temples.

A voice cut through his racing thoughts. “Look – he’s alive!”

He looked up and saw two figures running through the grass toward him. Each had three eyes and were covered in shaggy locks of gray-and-black fur. Not human, he realized. Aliens.

“No way,” the alien on the right breathed. The tips of his fur curled into neat springs. “Are – are you okay?”

That was a good question, but it was answered with another. “Where am I?”

“You’re on Skadi,” said the alien on the left.

“Who are you?”

The alien on the left knelt in the grass. “I’m Pei.” She nodded to her curly-furred companion. “He’s Rus.” Rus waved. “What are you called?”

The human in the flowers blinked. “I’m...” He looked down at the grass, his brow furrowing. “I’m not sure.”

The aliens glanced at one another in surprise.

“Do you remember…anything?” Rus asked.

“…No. Maybe? I feel like everything’s fuzzy.”

“It’ll come back to you,” said Pei. Her words were meant to be comforting, but her tone wasn’t hopeful.

“In the meantime,” Rus said, “we’ll…we’ll call you Wick. Okay?”

“Wick?”

Pei rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to convince me it’s a good name for our child.” She held out a hand. “Here – let’s get you up.” Rus leaned forward and extended a hand as well.

Wick took their hands and let them pull him to his feet. His back left the soft, springy grass and several crushed flowers fell from his jacket. He was over a head taller than either Skadian.

Chirp.

Wick’s head shot up. “What was that?” he demanded.

“What was…what?” Rus asked.

“That sound,” Wick said. “It sounded like a chirp.”

Rus and Pei exchanged glances. “I didn’t hear anything,” Pei admitted.

Chirp.

“There!” Wick said, whirling around to look for the source of the sound. “There it is again. You heard it that time, right?”

“…No.”

“Why don’t we get you back to our cabin?” Pei suggested. “Maybe some rest will help you recover.”

Wick wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find a good reason – so he nodded and let the pair lead the way. They waded through the tall grass. Wick breathed in the refreshing scent of moonlit flowers and resisted the urge to sneeze.

When they reached the trees, Rus and Pei slipped under the cover of the woods, but Wick couldn’t help but glance back at the meadow. Something tugged at his heart as his eyes rested on the squashed grass where he’d regained consciousness. He let himself stare for another few seconds before hurrying after the Skadians.

Rus and Pei led him up a steep forest hill. At the top, a small spring bubbled into a brook. They walked along the brook’s path until a stone cottage came into view. Soft golden light streamed through its windows, and Wick could see smoke gently curling from the chimney.

“Home awaits,” Rus said.

As they approached the property, Wick heard another chirp.He glanced behind him, but he was starting to realize that the sound was following too closely to be external.

Rus opened the door to the cottage and stepped aside to let Wick enter. Wick ducked under the doorway and stood in the foyer, his hair brushing the ceiling.

Pei followed behind, patting Wick’s arm. “Do you drink rue?” she asked.

Wick frowned. “Rue?”

“Hot water with citrus,” Rus explained, closing the door behind him. “Pei swears by it.”

“I’ll heat some water,” Pei said.

While Pei retreated into the kitchen, Rus led Wick to a seat by the fire.

Wick heard another chirp as he sank into a plush armchair. That sound is definitely coming from my head, he thought.

Wick watched Rus stoke the fire for several minutes. Then Pei joined them with a tray holding three ceramic cups. She blew across the top of a cup before placing it in Wick’s hands.

Wick breathed in the tangy steam. “Thank you,” he said, and took a sip. Warmth spread through him from the moment rue touched his tongue. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I’m glad we found you,” Pei said. “It’s cold out there, and you have no fur!”

“How did you find me?” Wick asked, taking another sip.

“Well, we wanted to investigate that light.”

“Light?” Wick echoed.

“There was a bright light in the trees, towards the meadow,” Rus explained. “We wanted to make sure there wasn’t a forest fire or something that would threaten the house.”

Wick frowned. “I don’t remember any bright light,” he said.

“You’re all confused,” Pei said. “It’s okay. Maybe you’ll feel better after you rest. We have a spare bed you can use. It may be small for you, but…it’s better than sleeping in the grass,” she joked.

Wick cracked a smile and looked down into his rue. A squished slice of an unfamiliar citrus fruit floated at the top. For some reason, this flattened his smile. Wick felt like something was right in front of him, and yet he couldn’t see it. His brow furrowed in concentration.

“Is something wrong?” Rus asked.

Wick’s knee started to bounce, rippling the surface of his rue. He stared intently at the citrus slice.

I didn’t know any of the flowers in the meadow, either… Wick’s throat tightened. What is wrong with me? Why am I so bothered by this?

“Wick?” Pei asked.

“Brando,” he replied without thinking.

Pei drew back. “What?”

Brando’s head lifted. “Hm?” Then, his eyes widened. “Oh!” He looked between Pei and Rus. “That’s – that’s my name. I’ve just remembered my name.”

“That’s great!” Rus said.

“Can you remember anything else, Brando?” Pei asked.

Brando opened his mouth, but found that nothing sprang from his lips. “I – don’t think so,” he admitted.

Rus nodded. “That’s okay,” he said. “Maybe it’ll come back after you sleep.”

They finished their cups by the fire, and then Rus led Brando to the spare room.

“Summon us if you need anything,” he instructed. “We’ll get you sorted when we wake.”

Pei had been right; the bed was too small for Brando. But he was so tired, and his head was so full, that he barely cared. Brando pressed his head against a plush pillow and fell asleep at once.

An hour later, his eyes shot open at the sound of a chirp.Moments later, Brando was back asleep. Another hour passed.

Chirp. He woke up, then fell back asleep.

Almost exactly an hour later: chirp.

Chirp.

Chirp.

Finally, six chirps later, Brando heard urgent knocking at his door. Soft sunlight filtered through his window, so Brando figured it was morning. He got to his feet so quickly that he nearly bumped his head on the ceiling.

There was more knocking at Brando’s door. “Brando!” Pei shouted from the other side. “Brando, come quick!”

Brando yanked open the door. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Rus has gone to see, but –“ Pei grabbed Brando’s arm. “We saw another light in the trees!”

Pei dragged Brando out of the cottage. They followed the stream, passed the spring at the top of the hill, and skidded down the slope toward the meadow.

Rus was waiting at the edge of the trees. “More humans!” he whispered excitedly as Pei and Brando approached.

Brando crouched in the undergrowth and looked out into the meadow.

There were three of them.

Leading the trio was a tall woman; she had dark lines running across her cheeks and forehead. She was flanked by two other humans – a short woman with deep blue eyes, and a man with curly, sandy hair.

“Do you know them?” Rus whispered.

Soft disappointment landed in Brando’s chest. They didn’t look familiar. Brando shook his head.

“Well, they’re definitely here for you,” Pei said quietly. The humans in the meadow were investigating the squashed grass where Brando had awoken.

“I don’t – I don’t recognize them,” Brando confessed.

Rus looked surprised. “But you’re wearing the same garments and everything!”

Brando looked down at his own clothes and realized that Rus was right. The humans in the meadow wore the same indigo vests that Brando did.

Should they be familiar to me?

In a moment of courage, Brando got to his feet and stepped into the meadow. He moved so silently that none of the humans realized he was there until he spoke.

“Looking for me?” he called.

The humans whirled around. Relief cleared all of their eyes. They smiled at him.

They definitely know me, Brando thought. He stood several yards from them, too uncomfortable to get any closer.

The human with sandy hair furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?” he asked.

That voice sent ice down Brando’s spine. In an effortless instant, the name left his lips. “Glen.”

The sensation of memories returning was overwhelming; Brando leaned forward and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Whoa.” His knees suddenly felt too weak to support him.

Several voices cried Brando’s name as he dropped into the grass.

Brando felt hands on his face, lifting his chin. He looked up into Tabby’s deep blue eyes.

“Hey, you with us?” she demanded.

“Y-Yeah,” Brando gasped. “I think I am.”

temporary amnesia, by beloved

also I like to think Brando sends Pei and Rus a gift for their child since they were so kind to him

[whumpapalooza]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 3: Blood Loss

Context who? Let's make Glen bleed. @febuwhump

(Space Interns Masterpost)

Blood, blood everywhere.

Glen could hear nothing but the roar of it in his ears. He could smell nothing but its tang in the air. He could feel nothing but the sensation of it seeping from his body.

Glen’s hand hovered over the oozing wound. He wanted – needed – to apply pressure, but he knew doing so would hurt. And he was terrified of more pain. It might break him – send him spiraling into white agony that could pull him under.

Slipper, however, must not have shared Glen’s fears. His objective was simple: keep Glen alive. So he pressed down on the wound.

Glen yowled wordless anguish until his vision softened. He gasped, moaning on every exhale.

“Glen – Glen, c’mon, buddy, stay awake…” Brando’s voice was high with alarm.

Slipper kept a calm tone. “Glen, if you are still aware, then I ask you to look at me.”

Glen tried to focus his eyes on the golden blur kneeling beside him, but the fuzz didn’t clear.

“You are losing blood quicky,” Slipper said.

No kidding? Glen thought, but his too-light head kept him from offering the wry reply.

“We may need to cauterize the wound to prevent you from bleeding out.”

Glen several shaky breaths through his nose. With tears in his eyes, he nodded.

“What do you need?” Brando asked.

“I must prepare my instrument,” said Slipper. “I need you to keep him awake.”

A hand took Glen’s. “Got it.” Another hand touched Glen’s shoulder. “Did I ever tell you about…”

Glen let the familiar cadence of Brando’s voice ground him as Slipper prepared his tool. He squinted in attempts to focus his vision, but instead the world began to darken. He stretched his eyes wide, but his eyelids began to droop.

There was a hand on his face. “Glen. Glen?” An intake of breath. “Slipper, we’re losing him!”

“I am ready.”

Glen heard a soft hiss. Not a Hecatean hiss from Slipper, but a hot hiss from his sizzling instrument.

“You will hold him.” Slipper’s voice sounded very faint.

If Brando replied, Glen didn’t hear it. He felt Brando’s grip on his shoulder and hand tighten.

Then there was a pressure against his side.

The sensation was…underwhelming. It was…not hot, actually. It was a little chilly. It was cold – freezing –

No.

No.

It was burning.

Dear Taurus, it was bu

[whumpapalooza]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 11: Chronic Pain

(Space Interns Masterpost)

They all learned about it in the span of six months. Slipper was the first to notice, in the very first week of the internship.

“Ptahfi,” he said, “you’re limping.”

“I’m alright,” Glen promised. “Just hurts a bit.”

But Slipper, being a good physician, dragged him down back to Med Bay anyway.

It was Blare who noticed, next – in the third month. The pair had been taking the stairs to the dining area when Glen stopped to rub his calf.

“You okay?” Blare asked.

“Yeah – yeah, just sore,” he assured her.

Then, in the fourth month, Brando noticed. “You good, buddy?” he asked.

Glen looked up from stretching his leg. “Huh? Oh – oh, yeah. Fine.”

Finally, mid-mission in the sixth month, Tabby rounded on him. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

Glen recoiled. “What?”

“You’re favoring one side,” Tabby remarked tartly. “What happened?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Chuck…”

Glen held up his hands. “Nothing, I promise,” he said. “It just hurts sometimes.”

“What does, your leg?” Tabby asked. Glen nodded. “Hurts how?”

“Tabby, I’m okay.”

“Hurts how?”

Glen’s shoulders raised. “Um…it aches?”

Tabby narrowed her eyes. “Does Slipper know?”

“Yes!”

Thankfully, Tabby let it go – they had a mission to complete, after all.

But after the mission, she cornered him outside their cabins. “Were you ever going to mention it?” she asked. “To any of us?”

Glen fiddled with his jacket zipper. “Probably not,” he admitted. “It’s just…y’know, part of my life.”

“So are we.” Tabby stared him down until he met her eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Tabby leaned against the wall. “So, how long has that been going on?” she asked.

“Since I was a teenager,” Glen said. “It was like, one day out of nowhere it just…ached. It comes and goes. But it…” He looked embarrassed suddenly. “It’s always there.”

Tabby’s brow furrowed. “And Slipper doesn’t think it’s…like, anything pressing?”

“No,” Glen confirmed.

Tabby nodded. “Well, thanks be for that, at least.”

“So…” Glen cast a glance Tabby’s way. “Are we good?”

Tabby grinned. “You never have to worry about that, Chuck.” She stood on her toes and ruffled Glen’s hair.

[whumpapalooza]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 8, ALT PROMPT 6: Natural Disaster

The whole team goes on a mission. :) @febuwhump

(Space Interns Masterpost)

“Ah, fuck it’s hot.”

“There’s three suns. What’d you expect?”

“I expected a little sympathy, but apparently that’s too much to ask.”

“We’re all baking in it – why should you get more sympathy?”

“Aires above, would both of you knock it off?” Blare interrupted them with a sharp rebuke.

“He started it,” Tabby grumbled.

“Objectively did not,” Brando said.

They were on a routine mission on a Stage 1 planet. They had only been off their craft for twenty minutes, and they had come during nighttime, but it was still swelteringly hot in the ravine where they were collecting samples.

Blare whirled around to glower at the bickering pair. “Brando, get the samples. Tabby, shut up.”

Both Brando and Tabby rolled their eyes, but neither argued. Brando knelt on the ground to clip a leaf from a plant.

“Warmbloods,” Slipper grunted, half to himself. “Always complaining.”

Glen chuckled. “It’s what we do best,” he said.

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” Tabby said over her shoulder. “It’s ridiculously hot.”

“Shut up,” Blare said.

“Don’t tell me you disagree, you liar.”

“No, seriously, shut up,” Blare said. “I think I hear…” She frowned. “Is that thunder?”

The crew fell peered up at the sky and listened.

“It does sound like thunder,” Brando murmured, getting to his feet.

“But there’s no clouds,” Glen pointed out.

The pebbles on the floor of the ravine began to rattle. Slipper’s frills spread. “That’s because there is no thunder,” he said suddenly. He tilted his head upwards and pointed. “Rockfall!”

Blare’s head snapped up. “Run!” she ordered.

The next few moments were loud. More and more rocks overhead came dislodged and tumbled down into the ravine as the crew sprinted through.

Blare heard her crew’s shouts underneath the cacophony of the rockfall. Brando’s bellow, Tabby’s shriek, Glen’s warning to Slipper to look out –

And then something large and heavy landed behind Blare. The force of the wind knocked her off her feet and onto the ground.

Blare covered her head and prayed to whatever deity might be listening. She felt debris catch in her hair.

And then, the rumbling stopped.

As the last of the rocks rolled down, their clatter echoing off the ravine walls, Blare propped herself up on her forearms. She saw Glen and Slipper lying in the space in front of her. She rolled over and, to her horror, only saw rubble.

Tabby and Brando were trapped on the other side.

Or worse, they were...

“Tabby!” Blare yowled. “Brando!”

There was no response. Blare’s heart leapt into her throat.

No – no, no. She scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the debris. “Brando! Tabby!” she shouted again.

“Blare!”

Blare tilted her head back and sighed. “Tabby, are you alright?” she asked.

“We’re both fine! You?”

Blare turned around, the word fine nearly on her lips. Then she saw Slipper kneeling beside Glen.

Glen didn’t get up.

“Oh, fuck,” Blare breathed.

“What’s going on?” Brando shouted.

“Glen’s -” Blare broke off. “I’ve – I’ve got to go see –“

“We’re okay! Go!”

Blare stepped away from the debris and rushed to Glen’s side. She dropped to her knees beside Slipper. “Is he okay?” she demanded.

Slipper took Glen’s chin in his hand and tilted Glen’s head to the side. Blare blanched at the sight of blood staining his sandy hair.

“Glen, can you hear me?” Slipper asked. He leaned in close and tilted his head so that he could hear Glen’s breathing. When he withdrew, he lifted Glen’s eyelid. Then the other. “He is likely concussed,” he reported to Blare. “His pupils are dilated, but equal.”

“That’s…a good sign, right?” she asked. Slipper nodded. “Still…we need to get him back to –“ Blare broke off. “Oh. Oh!”

“Glen is our engineer,” Slipper reminded her. “Without his codes, we cannot tractor to Aegis remotely.”

“So we’re stuck here until he wakes up,” Blare realized. She pressed a hand to her cheek. “How – how long could that be?”

“It is difficult to say,” Slipper answered, pressing an absorbent fabric to Glen’s hair. “He is deeply unconscious. I doubt our calls will rouse him.”

“Yeah.” Blare sat back. She sighed and pulled herself to her feet. “I’ll…I’ll go tell the others.”

“I will attempt to stop the bleeding.”

Blare brushed the dust from her arms as she made her way back over toward the debris.

“You guys still there?” she called.

“Still here!” Tabby replied. Then, at the same time, she and Brando asked, "How is he?"

“Out cold,” Blare said. “Slipper says he’s probably concussed.”

“But he’ll be okay, right?”Tabby asked.

“Slipper didn’t say otherwise,” Blare said. “But as long as he’s out, we can’t get back to Aegis.”

“Well, that’s a problem.”

Blare nodded. Then, remembering that they couldn’t see her, she said, “It is.”

“How long do we have before the suns rise?” Tabby asked.

Biting back a swear, Blare lowered her head. She had forgotten about the triplet suns. If just two were to rise over the horizon, the heat would unquestionably kill all the human members of the crew.

Blare glanced down at her wrist and tapped it twice. “Sunrise time for current location,” she said. After a few moments of calculations, the light number hovered over her wrist. “We’ve got three and a half hours,” she said.

“I mean…you don’t think he’ll be out that long, do you?” Brando asked anxiously.

Blare cast a glance back at Slipper, who was pressing a fresh absorbent fabric to Glen’s head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

[whumpapalooza]

Defend

For @theonlythingimfuckingisstupid! Thanks for the submission! :)

(One Word Prompts 3)

(Space Interns Masterpost)

Chirp.

Brando’s eyes blinked open. He checked the time; it was way too early for his alarm to be ringing. He closed his eyes and started to fall back asleep.

Chrip.

Brando realized that it wasn’t his alarm – it was his comm. “Whuh…?” He pulled his arm out from under the covers and tapped his chest four times. “Yeah?”

“Ptahfi to DiHonos.”

Brando ran his fingers over his eyes. “Here,” he answered sleepily. “What’s up, Glen?”

“Sorry to wake you. Um…are you alone?“

Brando chuckled and looked around his dark cabin. “Yeah, I’m alone. You do know what hour it is, right?”

“Oh. Not really, actually.”

Brando blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I can explain. But real quick, I need…uh, I need a little help.”

“Glen, what’s going on?” Brando demanded, sitting up in bed.

“Please, just…don’t wake anyone else, okay? I’m outside.”

Brando didn’t need a tractor beam; he wasn’t on Aegis.

The crew had come to Earth Neo for emergency maintenance. While they waited for the repair to be completed, they had been assigned living quarters in the Union Tower.

Brando took the elevator to the lobby. He waved awkwardly to the man at the front desk on his way outside.

Glen was sitting on the curb, his back to Brando. Brando called his name. Once Glen’s head lifted into the light, Brando could see a glint of red in his sandy curls.

“What the fuck?” Brando gasped.

“Don’t freak out –“ Glen said, getting to his feet and turning around.

“What the fuck happened?” Brando demanded, storming forward. He examined Glen’s face: he had a scrape on his cheek, a split lip, and a cut over his left eye. Brando noticed Glen’s knees shaking, so he put his hands out for support. “Glen, you look like you got the daylights beaten out of you.”

“Well…”

“Okay, sit down.” Brando helped lower Glen to the ground. “I’ll get Slipper, and –“

“No, don’t,” Glen said, gripping Brando’s jacket.

“What?” Brando pulled away. “No, I have to –“

“I mean it. Please,” Glen pleaded, “don’t tell Slipper. Or Blare, or Tabby.”

“You’re not thinking clearly –“

Glen cut him off. “Please. I just need you to patch me up, and then we can pretend this never happened.”

Brando knelt down beside him. “You’re scaring me,” he admitted. “What’s going on?”

Glen looked away. “You know how I went out for drinks?”

“Right,” Brando said. “You met up with some old friends.“

“They’re not my friends,” Glen said fiercely. Brando raised his eyebrows, and Glen sighed. “Look, they started…saying things. About Aegis.”

Brando didn’t reply, so Glen continued. “I mentioned Slipper, and they started getting xenophobic. Asking how he can be a physician if he doesn’t feel anything. So I started telling them that, actually, yes, he does feel things, and…” Glen broke off with a sigh. “Then they brought up Tabby. Said that they hoped I was locking my door at night, living on the same craft as someone from a Class 0 planet.”

“They sound like upstanding people,” Brando said dryly.

“Yeah.” Glen shook his head. “I tried telling them how classist it was, but they laughed it off. And then they started making jokes about Blare and her heritage, and it just – it got out of hand, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I let them have it, and then I got up to leave.” He met Brando’s eyes. “They, uh – they didn’t like that. They followed me. Cornered me when there was no one around.”

“Fuck. That’s why you don’t want the others to know,” Brando realized.

“I don’t want them to feel guilty,” Glen explained. “It's not their fault, but they might not see it that way. You get that, right?”

“I get it, but…” Brando gestured to Glen’s face. “Dude, I don’t know if I can patch you up enough that they don’t know something happened. You got pummeled.”

“Thank you for reminding me.”

Brando surprised himself and laughed. Glen cracked a smile.

“Come on,” Brando said, getting to his feet. He held out a hand. “I’m no Slipper, but I’ll do what I can.” Glen took his hand and stood, and Brando threw an arm around Glen’s neck. He gave Glen’s shoulder a friendly jostle, and together they entered the Union Building.

Glen defending his friends and getting the shit kicked out of him for it is *chef's kiss*

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack Alt 1 – ringing ears

(Space Interns Masterpost)

Blare was late to dinner – again. So Glen offered to go get her.

He entered the lift and typed the code for bridge access. The doors closed, and the lift shot upwards. Glen leaned back against the wall, turning his arm over to play with settings on his bracer while he waited.

But then Glen’s ears popped, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Glen blinked, raising a hand to press fingers against his eyes. “Ugh…”

Glen took a deep breath, but still felt woozy. A high pitch began to ring in his ears. Glen reached out for the wall and leaned against it for support.

The elevator slowed to a halt atop the craft, and the doors parted to reveal the bridge.

Music blasted from every speaker. Glen could see Blare at the helm, her head bobbing to the beat.

Glen took another deep breath, and then called out. “Blare?” he said, but he could barely hear himself over the music and the ringing in his ears. He sighed and stepped onto the bridge. “Blare!” he called again.

Blare whirled around. “Glen!” she greeted. Then, with a wave of her hand, she said, “Aegis, reduce volume to 20 percent.”

The music quieted, but the ringing in Glen’s ears remained. He stood still as vertigo pulled at him. “Dinner,” he said simply.

“Already?” Blare asked. She grinned. “That was a quick day.” She turned around pinched her fingers, then drew her hands apart. The console reacted, projecting the closest star system. “So, we’re in a pretty good spot to just drift. I’ll just set an anchor so we don’t go far...”

“Mhm,” Glen said.

“And – there.” Blare made a wide, circular motion with her arms, and the console hummed quietly in response. The music faded and the lights dimmed.

Blare stepped off the helm, locked it behind her, and walked toward the lift, passing Glen in just two strides.

Glen turned to follow her, but the sudden movement made him dizzy. He stumbled sideways, just catching himself before he fell to the floor.

Blare shot him a look.

Glen smiled sheepishly. “Uh – tripped over my own feet,” he said.

Blare rolled her eyes and led the way onto the lift. Glen followed. Once inside, he leaned his back against the wall as casually as he could. The elevator started to descend, and Glen closed his eyes. The world spun.

“What’s for dinner?” Blare asked.

Glen could hardly focus on standing upright, let alone remember the details of their upcoming meal. “It’s Slipper’s night,” he said vaguely.

Blare laughed. “So it’s an egg thing,” she guessed. Glen cracked a smile; that was accurate.

The lift slowed to a halt. Then the doors slid open, and Glen opened his eyes. It still felt like the world was tilting. He fixed his gaze on a spot on the floor and held still.

Blare gave him another look. “What’s up?” she asked.

“I – left something in the engine,” he lied. “You go ahead.” Maybe he could be alone, sit down for a bit. Just until the ringing in his head went away.

“Grab it on the way down to your cabin,” Blare said. “You look pale – you should eat something.”

Glen swallowed. “Yeah,” he said. He followed Blare out of the elevator.

Glen focused his energy on walking in a straight line. Every step felt like a gamble. The pitch in his ears was getting higher. Glen’s vision was going white.

They walked over to the dining hall, where the rest of the crew was waiting with full plates.

“Smells…like egg,” Blare said politely. Slipper gave no reaction.

“Hey, Minervas,” Brando said. “That’s two days this week we’ve had to come get you.”

“One more and you lose the bet!” Tabby chirped.

Blare and Glen came to a stop at the end of the table. Blare sighed. “Oh, don’t start. I told you, last night didn’t count –“

Brando and Tabby burst into a chorus of “no”s. They all started talking at once.

Glen didn’t like the way Slipper was looking at him. He had a suspicion that the physician knew something was wrong.

Just make it through dinner, Glen thought. If it’s still bad after dinner, talk to Slipper. Just make it through dinner.

He sat at the table, thanked Slipper for the food, and ate.

[whumpapalooza]

aa bthb! i gotta go with bloody nose for Brando 👀 -thatsgonnaleaveamark

@thatsgonnaleaveamark This was fun!! Thanks so much for the submission, friend!

And thanks again to @badthingshappenbingo for the bingo card!

(Space Interns Masterpost)

(Rudi's Bad Things Happen Bingo Card)

The lake was frozen over. The ice was nearly a foot thick, but Brando could see right through it and into the clear water beneath. Schools of fish Brando didn’t recognize drifted through patches of gently waving lakeweed.

“Okay – I’m ready,” Glen said.

Brando turned over his shoulder to see his crewmate lifting a large bag over his shoulder. The bag’s strap almost didn’t fit over the puffy coat Glen was wearing.

“How long do you think this will take?” Brando asked.

“In theory, this is a simple job,” Glen said, turning his back to Brando. He started walking inland. “All I have to do is detach the core, replace the battery, and then re-attach the core.”

“Okay,” Brando said. He stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his own puffy coat and followed Glen up the rocky slope. “So, that’s in theory. What about in practice?”

“Oh,” Glen said. “Who knows? I’ve stopped trying to predict these missions.”

The pair were on the planet Belisama, a planet home to three different species of sentient aquatic beings. The planet was known for its many lakes, and especially the lighthouses that were built to illuminate those lakes.

The lighthouses were unlike any Brando had ever encountered. They had been nicknamed “inverted lighthouses,” and the name was apt. Instead of standing tall over the lake to shine light over its surface, the lighthouses were built underwater, and had the beacons shine directly through crystalline depths.

The beacons of these lighthouses were powered by electricity, which was a source of power that the peoples of Belisama could not harness without coming to harm. As such, the lighthouses were maintained by extraterrestrial engineers – like Glen.

Glen had been assigned to maintain a lighthouse beacon after its light had gone dim in a polar front. Brando had followed him to the planet’s surface to assist him.

They entered the lighthouse on a small, rocky cliff. After climbing down a frozen metal ladder, they stood on a circular lift at the center of the tower, and that took them down to the lantern room.

They reached the bottom floor of the lighthouse, and then the doors to the lantern room opened.

Freezing water trickled in from cracks in the walls and was slowly filling the room. The water was yet to reach the height of the lift, but it was enough to consider the room flooded.

Glen sighed. “Of course,” he muttered. He swung his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor of the lift. “It looks ankle-deep,” he said, “so the core should be dry. I should still be able to take care of it. I’m going to head over and detach the core. Can you get the battery out of the case?”

“Yeah – sure,” Brando said. Then Glen took a step into the water, and Brando felt a chill crawl up his spine. “Wait!” He grabbed Glen’s arm and pulled him back onto the lift.

Glen’s voice rose. “What – what?”

“There’s something in there,” Brando said. He pointed, and Glen followed his finger to see cloudy blobs floating in the pooled water.

“What the nethers is that?” Glen’s voice was disgusted.

“Looks…” Brando knelt down. “Looks like a jellyfish.”

“What’s a jellyfish?”

“You don’t have jellyfish on Ptah?” Brando asked. Then he waved his hand. “Never mind. I’m going to call Tabby. She’ll have an idea of what these are.” He tapped his chest four times. Glen followed suit.

“DiHonos and Ptahfi to Nic’hel,” Brando said. A few moments passed, wherein Brando and Glen listened to water slap against the sides of the lighthouse. Brando heard a chirp in his head and repeated himself. “DiHonos and Ptahfi to Nic’hel.”

“You’ve got her. What’s happening?”

“Yeah, hey,” Brando said. “So, the lantern room’s flooded.”

Tabby laughed. “That sucks. Need a tractor beam?”

“No, we’re still staying to replace the battery,” Glen said.

“Yeah, I’m just calling to ask about these things in the water,” Brando said. “There’s this – like, jellyfish thing.”

“Jellyfish?”

“Am I the only one whose home planet had jellyfish?” Brando huffed. “They’re like – gelatinous blobs with tentacles.”

“Oh!” Tabby sounded excited for a moment. “Yeah, we had those on Hel. Called them something different, though.” Then she paused. “But, yeah, okay, I think I know what you’re talking about. Belisama does have a species similar to – what’d you call them?”

“Jellyfish.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t worry too much. The Belisaman jellyfish species is pretty docile unless provoked, so you should be fine…”

Brando grinned; he recognized Tabby’s habit of trailing off when she wanted to ask something. “What is it?” Brando asked.

“I’m just wondering…the jellyfish – it has orange nerves, right?”

Glen peered into the water. “Yep.”

“Okay. So…the thing is, this specific species you’re dealing with – it’s a physio-telepathic species,” Tabby said.

“What do you mean, physio-telepathic?”

“I mean, unlike fully telepathic species, the jellyfish has to be physically connected in order to bond with someone’s mind.” Tabby paused. “And physio-telepathy is…well. Like I said – don’t provoke it, and you should be fine. Just be careful, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Tabby.”

Chirp.

Brando clapped Glen on the back. “Okay. Sorry for the wait,” he said.

Glen nodded. “Can you unpack the battery?” He pulled his omnigadget from his belt. “I’m going to detach the core.”

“Got it.” Brando reached into the bag Glen had packed and pulled out a large, heavy case.

The job went simply, like Glen theorized. He stepped into the water, detached the core, and brought it over to the lift. There, he swapped the damaged battery with the new one.

When Glen stepped back into the water, he held the new core up high and shuffled around the jellyfish. His teeth began to chatter as he slid the core back into place and began to re-attach it. When Glen was finished, a low tone began to hum from the core.

“S-sounds like it’s working,” Glen said. “Now to start it…” He reached for the switch and flipped it.

At once, bright light filled the room and spilled into the lake’s depths.

Brando shielded his eyes, but he was beaming. “Nicely done,” he said.

Glen smiled. “Thanks. But – like I said…simple job.”

“When you know what you’re doing, yeah,” Brando joked. “I’d have gotten frustrated just –“ Brando broke off, his eyes widening.

The jellyfish was no longer floating aimlessly in the shallows. Its nerves were twitching, and it was speeding toward Glen’s feet.

Without thinking, Brando leapt off the lift and landed with a splash in the water. He surged forward, wrapped his arms around Glen, and pulled him off the ground.

“H-Hey!” Glen gasped. “What are you -"

“I don’t think the jellyfish likes the light!” Brando hissed. He looked down at the jellyfish, which was curling a tentacle around his ankle. He swore. “Okay…um. We may have a problem.”

“What?” Glen twisted to get a view of the water. His face fell at the sight of Brando’s ankle. “Oh." Then he looked back up at Brando’s face, and his eyes widened. “Oh. Brando, your nose – it’s bleeding.“

“My…” Brando felt something warm roll from his nostril. “Oh. Yep. Sure is.” He swallowed. “…Glen, I’m going to put you down,” he said, “and I need you to get to the lift without disturbing the jellyfish.”

“Well – what about you?” Glen demanded.

“We’ll call Aegis and figure it out,” Brando answered. “Now, are you ready?”

Glen looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded. Brando slowly lowered him back into the water. Glen shuffled away without sloshing too much.

Brando watched Glen take the step onto the lift, and then he let out the breath he’d been holding. “O…kay,” he said calmly. “Now all we have to do is call Aegis.” He rapped his knuckles against his sternum. “DiHonos and Ptahfi to Ae – ah!” Brando’s head tilted upward, and a hand shot up to his temple. His eyes shot open wide.

“Brando!” Glen cried. He rapped on his chest four times. “Ptahfi to Aegis! Ptahfi to Aegis! Someone, answer me!”

Brando felt like his brain was a rapidly pulsing with every beat of his heart. The throbbing felt unreal, unnatural.

Chrip.

“Ptahfi to Aegis – we need help!” Glen shouted.

“What’s going on?” Blare sounded bewildered.

Tabby was on the comm, too. “Did you piss off the jellyfish?”

Brando could hear Glen explaining what was happening – but when Brando tried to raise his voice, to say something, his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

Flashes of light burst in Brando’s vision, and with them came sharp pricks of pain behind his eyes. He cried out, his knees bending but not buckling.

Brando felt another bead drip down onto his lip. The pain behind his eyes grew hotter. Brando’s knees bent again as he moaned.

“Oh, fuck,” Glen gasped. “Guys, his nose is really bleeding.”

“Okay, that’s bad,” Blare said. “If this jellyfish thing is doing something telepathic, and Brando’s nose is bleeding, then that means his brain is rejecting the bond.”

“What can I do?” Glen asked.

“It doesn't like the light - can you turn off the beacon without putting yourself in danger?” Tabby suggested.

“No – I can’t reach it.”

“Brando needs to sever the connection,” Blare said. “Either he breaks himself out of it, or…”

Brando felt a warm stream of blood roll down his chin, dripping off into the water. Nausea rose in him at the sight of his own blood, tainting the clean shallows pink.

A surge of pain blasted through Brando’s head, and he let his knees fold. He dropped with a splash onto the flooded floor, gripping his head with both hands.

“I have to do something!” Glen shouted.

“Blare, can’t we sever the connection some…other way?”Tabby said.

“You mean –“

Brando’s howl drowned out whatever Blare said next. Blood from his nose dripped into his mouth, and he leaned all the way over to touch his forehead to the water.

Glen’s boots came into view as he approached the edge of the lift. “Brando!” he shouted.

Instinctively, Brando’s head shot up – just in time to see Glen swing down.

Everything went silent and dark.

When Brando's senses came back to him, he groaned. His forehead felt bruised. He blinked up at Glen languidly.

“Are you okay?” Glen asked. Brando nodded once. “Can you say something?”

“…M’ head,” Brando rasped.

Glen grimaced. “Yeah, I’ll bet it hurts,” he said. “Um…sorry.”

Brando furrowed his brow. “What…?” He felt too tired to ask what happened, but Glen seemed to understand.

“Uh…” Glen looked over his shoulder at the case that had held the beacon’s battery. “I severed the connection the jellyfish had with you.”

Brando blinked. He knocked me out?

“Your nose was gushing blood,” Glen said defensively, reading Brando’s expression. “Blare says you weren’t going to last much longer.”

Brando hummed, closing his eyes.

“Can…can you move?” Glen asked. Brando bit back a groan, but he nodded. “Come on. Let’s get you to Slipper.” Glen leaned forward and threw Brando’s arm around his shoulder. “Ready? One, two…” And with a grunt, he helped lift Brando to his feet.

Brando stumbled against Glen. “S’rry,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to talk,” Glen said. He gave Brando’s wrist a comforting squeeze. “Just stay with me.”