Among Us: Salvation

Chapter 1: Killer Onboard

For something so gloomy and scary, space held an elegant beauty that no one could deny. The silver-speckled stretch waved at every passer-by on their expeditions through the cosmos. Hello there, traveller. Goodbye, friend. Good luck on your way. Shining. Imploding. Exploding light so infinitesimally small and yet magnificent all the same. Fiery hands waving all the while. Protecting their planets and judging the life on those tiny spheres they guarded.

Stars were freckles. At least that was what Severn concluded as he trailed the tangle of suns, and worlds, and satellites in the distance. Galaxies lit up the horizon in a rainbow of astral clouds, blocking out what existed behind. Does space have horizons? he mused. The illumination of a nearby mist glittered in jade and sapphire across his face. How far does it have to go to be a horizon?

He pressed his palm against the glass and wondered what it would be like to feel the universe. Would it be as soft and warm as a loved one's embrace or a blanket on a chilly night? Or would it hurt? Would it leave him bruised and burned and regretful?

"Hey. Daydreamer. You going to get back to work or are you going to continue staring into the abyss?"

Severn dragged himself away from the allure of the galaxies outside the craft and returned to the monotony of his daily duties. It was always the same. Fix this. Upgrade that. Empty the chutes. Check the fuel. Keep up with your medical scans. Chart your course. Prime the shields. An unbreakable cycle of repair and remedy.

"Sorry," he murmured, revolving the screwdriver to loosen the screws on the panel. He set each one on the rounded table behind him and prised the metal slab from the wall.

"It's okay. Just don't let that brain of yours distract you from your work," George said as he readjusted the clipboard a few times before shoving it by his feet. If he didn't know what he was doing after eighteen months, he was a lost cause. "When our contracts are over, you can daydream to your heart's content, but right now, we need to get this done."

Severn searched for somewhere to put the screwdriver while he worked at the wiring. With no alternative place that allowed him to keep hold the wires, he opted for clamping the handle between his teeth. He attempted to speak, but the words came out in garbled streams of nonsense.

"What?" George peered at the crewmate in white and rolled his eyes. "How many times must I tell you not to put tools in your mouth?" he chided. "The germs! And not to mention how dangerous it is."

The screwdriver clicked against Severn's teeth as he released it. He mopped at the droplet of drool on the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. "Nobody else uses it, and I haven't electrocuted or accidentally stabbed myself yet."

"Yet being the operative word."

Severn stuck his tongue out and pulled a face, returning to the wires in the wall.

"What were you trying to say with a mouthful of tools?" George asked, saving the subject of saliva-covered screwdrivers and the perils they posed for another conversation.

"I said we all know why you're desperate to finish your contract."

"Yes, yes, you all keep teasing me about it, but this time in two months, I will be a married man." George swelled with the pride and glory of a hero returning from his quest. "Martha was talking about going to Hawaii for our honeymoon. Some distant relative of hers moved there a few years ago, so I'm thinking of surprising her with plane tickets at the party."

"That'll be nice." Severn had never been abroad, he'd never had the chance. His current mission was the only time he'd ever left his hometown, and he wasn't sure he wanted to return after seeing the marvels space offered.