Wilbur spun in his chair, trying to not fall asleep from the pure boredom.
Of course he was put on radio duty on such a slow day. The communication device had been almost completely silent, aside from a child accidentally tuning into the wrong frequency when trying to call it's mother.
He glared at the ceiling like it had personally offended him. The silence of the offshoot room was near deafening in the phantom's opinion. Why couldn't Phil just let him have his music. It's not like anyone was assigning them an incident.
Him and his big mouth.
"Come in crew of the Sb-1824, come in." The mildly distorted voice called through the speaker.
Letting out a sigh, Wilbur hit a button and responded.
"Crew of the Sb-1834 responding, what do you need?"
"Sb-1834, you are being assigned to an incident number 32-C on the planet Thekus. I repeat, you have been assigned to an in-"
Wilbur tuned out the rest of the repeat, replying with an positive response when asked if he understood.
32-C. What was that again?
He glanced at his shortcut sheet to the incident numbers. 32 meant it was an unidentified object. What did C mean again?
.
.
.
Crash.
They were being called to the crash site of an unidentified object. This better be a really fucking interesting asteroid.
Wilbur wandered out to the main control deck of the small space craft, where Technoblade, a piglin from the planet of Nether, who was approximately the same age as him sat, fiddling with flight course settings.
"Hey Techno, set a course for Thekus, we've got a 32-C." Wilbur told him, exiting the room to find Phil after getting a nod from Techno.
"PHILZA, WHERE ARE YOU?" Wilbur shouted from the hallway.
"What the fuck are you yelling for Mate, the ship's not that big." Phil poked his head around a doorway.
"We got an incident, buckle up!"
|..-. .- -- .. .-.. -.--|
Tommy heard the bang from inside the S.M.P.C. and he realized something.
More of the ship could collapse and the supplies would be near completely inaccessible to him.
"Fuck it." Tommy turned back into the ship. As much as he didn't want to risk the ship collapsing on him, he knew he wouldn't be surviving with out at least some of that supplies, no matter how big of a man he was. He looked at the walls trying to find any indicator of where he was. Unfortunately, he was not in the group that was shown where the medbay was. He was in the group that was shown where the recreational room were and how to use the digital movie storage. Super useful in this situation.
He had glanced up at the ceiling seeing if they had painted fucking arrows or something, when a small crate seemingly appeared out of nowhere and he tripped, banging his injured leg on the crate as he fell.
"GOD FUCKING SHIT ASS PISS-" Tommy shouted, pain clouding his mind. When he finally finished his string of shouted curses, he glared at the crate like it could care. He assumed it slid out of the open door on the side of the hallway. His eyes were drawn to the label, which he quickly noticed was written in an incredibly familiar hand writing.
On the "Property of" sticker, in a messy scrawl was his name, Tom Simons.
His stuff! They had been allowed a crate to put whatever personal belongs they wanted in.
And he happened to have put some very important things in his.
He pried open the the crate, forgetting how it had injured him, excited to get to it's contents. The first thing in the packed crate was his pack or Oreos. Of course, he did the reasonable thing when he was told he had to pack whatever he would want to himself in this crate, and tried to pack a 12 pack of Coca-Cola. Then he was told liquids weren't allowed and he settled for Oreos.
He pulled out the pack of cookies, setting them next to the crate as he dug through the rest of the stuff.
He shifted through his few action figures and and his favorite articles of clothes.
Second thing he found was his dark red back pack. He didn't have much back on Earth and he decided that this bag that had been with him for years was something he should pack. He was glad for that now. Tommy stuffed the pack of Oreos in the bag, along with his favorite red and white shirt and blue sweater. He also pulled out a white tank top he wasn't particularly attached to and it tore into strips. Using said strips, he wrapped the large cut on his leg. Tommy wasn't sure if this would actually help much but he saw it in an action movie. As you know, action movies are never wrong.
Tommy looked into the crate once more, checking if there was anything else he absolutely had to bring. He knew he couldn't bring everything, the extra weight would not make it any easier to walk with his leg situation. As he was about to give up on finding anything else, a shred of green caught his eye.
Of course, the first thing he packed. He carefully pulled out the tattered, green bandanna. The only thing he had remaining of his best friend, who disappeared mysteriously when they were 15.
He didn't have time to dwell on it, he tied the bandanna around his neck, as he had for years back on Earth. He closed the crate, hoping if the fire ended up reaching this point, the metal would protect the contents. Tommy pushed himself back up to a standing position, placed a hand on the wall for stability and continued down the hall.
YOU ARE READING
When Did I Become The Alien? (SBI Fic)
Fanfiction"A handful of people from all walks of life, chosen at random by a raffle to board the S.M.P.C and travel the stars to the new Earth!" The international announcement had excited everyone, especially the people who couldn't have dreamed of paying fo...
