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septic-skele · 5 months ago

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UT - A Splint for the Splintered

Summary: Grillby and Alphys, representatives of the starship Determination, bring peace offerings to a planet ravaged by war.

A/N: Written for the @au-roulette 2024. The AU I've been assigned is Space Exploration!

Grillby had seen many planets and species in his time—at their lowest lows, face to face on a slew of battlefields during the War of Worlds, and now finally on an upward trajectory ever since joining the crew of the U.S.S. Determination. His mere presence here as a culinary specialist was what the humans called an “olive branch”, a gesture that they were willing to work closely with Pyrovite and other affected worlds to rebuild what the war had broken.

The majority of the Determination crew was human, of course (such was the right of the victors, to outnumber the conquered) but the sparse number of alien faces Grillby greeted in the mess hall were tinged with a sense of relief. Even if they weren’t equals, even if they were swept off on away missions any chance the humans got to keep them out of sight and mind, they were technically instruments of progress, of peace.

Maybe that idea had made it easier to get comfortable, complacent and put the ugliest memories of the fallout behind them. It wasn’t so easy now with the ruins of Scelta looming on the shuttle view screens. Grillby had always been the quiet sort but staring at this tragedy, he couldn’t have found the words even if he wanted to. The scientific advisor, Alphys, swallowed with audible difficulty in the seat beside him.

“I-I knew it was bad…really, really bad but…he didn’t say it was…” She trailed off, claws tightening against the armrests.

Alphys and Grillby had only ever met one Sceltan over the course of the war, a former scientist who had mentioned The Great Breaking of his planet with stiff, cool, clinical detachment in his voice. Clearly he had a knack for understatement.

It was a pale, hollow half of a world, crippled, cavernous, its remaining plates precariously splinted in an artificial gravity ring—the humans’ work, a bargaining chip in exchange for a share of Scelta’s precious few remaining resources.

It wasn’t fair of them to ask. It wasn’t even kind, knowing the Sceltans literally had so little ground upon which to refuse, but the trade could only go through if the refugees inhabitants survived long enough to sign it. For that they would need rations, medical supplies; as part of today’s away team, that was Grillby and Alphys’ job.

Nothing but a bitter, biting wind was there to greet them when they stepped onto the planet’s cracked crust. Grillby had to duck briefly back into the mouth of the shuttle as his flame whipped and crackled defensively against the chill, while Alphys’ shiver was due more to her nerves.

“Okay, well, um…if this is the place, we better start unloading the supplies. So let’s…do that. I h-hope someone knows they have to come and pick them up…”

Unloading everything wasn’t as easy as they had hoped. Beyond the relative sturdiness of their designated landing site, the ground was even more fragile than first glances would have them believe, buckling underneath the cargo’s weight. Back and forth, here and there, to and fro they had to relocate each shipment and find the perfect balancing act until they could be sure it wouldn’t sink into the soft, sponge-like tissues beneath the surface.

“T-These pockets of s-sediment reminds me a little of the marshlands on Quatali,” Alphys remarked somewhere amidst her stream of chatter to fill Grillby’s apparently awkward silence. “Oh, you weren’t part of first contact on Quatali, were you? That’s where the team met Undyne. The Quatali p-people call her The Lady of the Lower Lakes; she was their sort of legendary hero, a guardian of the water, so when the team t-tried to collect samples, h-hoo boy, she was as mad as a—aahh!”

Grillby whirled around just in time to see her lunge back, foot twisting into one of the surface pockets as her tail lashed for balance and scattered a pile of ration packs in every direction. Abandoning his stack of boxes, Grillby was quick to maneuver her back onto stable ground. As soon as she was upright, she clutched at her chest, letting out a quick, chittering squeal in her home tongue before stuttering to return to Common.

“Oh, wow! Sorry, sorry about that but t-that really startled me!”

Grillby followed her gaze and found that just as he had a securing hold on his teammate, there was a small Sceltan boy with tense, protective arms wrapped around another taller one who, unlike Alphys, was already squirming to be set loose. Once he was back on his feet, he rattled various bones emphatically at the newcomers, wringing his hands out, rolling his shoulders and then knocking his knees together.

Alphys shook her head hesitantly. “I-I’m sorry again but I don’t really understand. Do you…Can you use Common Speech? Has anyone taught you?” The slimmer child merely cocked his head in return, looking just as uncertain.

“… …Apologies,” Grillby said softly, earning another small jump from her at his still unfamiliar voice. He was far more practiced at observing and translating body language. “… …For scaring you.”

“…Oh! It’s okay, it’s fine, n-no harm done!” Alphys brushed it off with a nervous laugh before pulling her tail in closer for containment as she bent to recollect the fallen ration packs. After a moment of thought she held one out to them. “Um, are you hungry? We were bringing these for you anyway.”

Lighting up, the taller one jumped at the offering but the shorter one must have been more agile than he looked; it seemed in the span of a blink he shortcut ahead and swiped it first.

“H-Hey! You don’t have to do that, there’s plenty for everyone,” Alphys protested as the taller one clacked his teeth and stomped a foot in frustration, barely fazed when he then had to shake it loose from another surface pocket. His companion—his brother?—didn’t tear greedily into the meal, however; he rolled it cautiously over in his hands a few times, apparently to assess the packaging, and then pried open only a tiny corner to sniff at it.

“… …Burger,” Grillby informed him, even if he didn’t understand. It was as close to an Earth burger as a Pyrovite cook could guesstimate, at least; his human crewmates hadn’t complained thus far. Was it safe and acceptable for Sceltans to eat? The small one seemed optimistic at the scent, nodding to Grillby and Alphys in what was probably thanks before holding it back up for the other to sniff too. Once he caught a note of the grease oozing from that torn corner, the tall one balked instantly, swatting it away with obvious distaste.

“You don’t like it? T-That’s okay! Like I said, there’s plenty. I-I’m sure we’ll find something for you too, um…you.” Naturally he didn’t respond to that, too busy looking on with envy as his brother started enjoying the burger to himself, and Alphys bit her lip. “Are these really the…I don’t know, pickup boys? Why would they send children to meet us, children who don’t even know Common?”

Perhaps in the aftermath of The Break, none of the adults were in any condition to make the trip to the landing site themselves. Perhaps there were no adults left in this area to come. Grillby’s grim thoughts wouldn’t be particularly useful right now so he pushed them aside, picking up a couple more ration packs to offer the taller boy. Having had his hopes dashed by the burger, he eyed them distrustfully for several seconds before snatching the sweet-and-spiced brown egg meal.

“I feel bad. It doesn’t feel like we can do business p-properly when we don’t even know each other’s names!” Alphys fretted. “What do we say? How do we say it? Our body languages are totally different; we’re flesh and fire, not bones! Do we use sign?”

“… …Signs,” Grillby echoed, flame snapping in the wind with inspiration as he spun on his heel to grab the data pad resting on a stack of nearby crates. Backing out of the inventory catalogue, he tapped indicatively at the communication settings bar. “… …Symbols.”

During his all-too-brief time with them, the doctor had given a written statement backing his account of The Break for the Determination’s historical record, which meant a font familiar to at least one Sceltan had been recorded. Even if they couldn’t speak a Common language, it was worth a shot to see if the boys identified a font in which to write.

Upon flashing the screen with the doctor’s chosen font at them, the taller boy perked up, while the shorter one went completely still. Grillby couldn’t help but notice his jaw clenching minutely, mid-bite. That said, positive or negative, their reactions appeared to serve as recognition.

“Alphys,” she enunciated clearly for them, tracing the letters she had typed and magnified onscreen before pointing at her face. “Alphys.”

“… …Grillby.”

“A-And now you are…?”

Promptly shoving his open ration pack into the crook of his brother’s arm, either uncaring or oblivious when the mashed egg and grains spilled, the taller one accepted the pad eagerly. His inexperienced mashing at the screen must have turned some settings on and off because when he flipped it back toward them, the message came in oddly punctuated, multilingual chunks.

His earnest grin was infectious; Grillby crackled warmly and Alphys, with a small sigh of relief, returned a smile of her own.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

#undertale #au roulette 2024 #alternate universe #fanfiction #grillby #alphys #papyrus #sans #babybones

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