𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐓 ᵃⁿᵈʸ

04 ┃ 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧

━ ⭒─⭑━

Silence filled the hauler, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the system monitors. Rain and Kay, left to their own devices, sat quietly; Navarro remained focused on manning the controls, her fingers gliding over the panel with expert precision.

Your eyes, however, were glued to the monitor displaying the live feed from Tyler's headset. Every pixel flickered with tension as you watched the three figures standing in the narrow chamber that connected the hauler to the derelict space station.

Tyler and Bjorn, both clad in bulky space jumpsuits with oxygen masks and gloves, were preparing for the transition. The suits clung to their bodies, designed to protect them from the frigid vacuum outside.

Only Andy, with his synthetic skin, stood without such gear, his face expressionless as always, though you could sense an undercurrent of anticipation in his movements.

Tyler extended a pair of thermal gloves toward Bjorn. "Put this on," he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Bjorn, examining the gloves with a mixture of disdain and necessity, quips, "Why? Planning to freeze my nuts off?"

"So your nuts don't freeze," Tyler retorts with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood despite the gravity of their situation.

Bjorn chuckled, his voice crackling through the feed, a low, mocking sound. "You think too much about my dates, Tyler," his eyes twinkling with mischief behind the mask.

"Just shut up and put the damn gloves on," Tyler muttered, turning to hand another set to Andy. "Andy, here," he added, more gently this time.

Andy took the gloves, his movements deliberate but slightly awkward as he struggled to fit them over his synthetic hands. The fabric was tight, designed for human fingers, not his more refined construction. You could see the effort it took for him to maneuver his fingers into place.

Bjorn glanced over, his lips curling into a sneer. "Hey, stop fiddling and put that shit on already," he barked, impatience lacing his tone. His words cut through the air, harsh and dismissive.

Tyler shot Bjorn a warning look. "Now, leave him alone. Andy, don't worry about him. He's an idiot," he reassured, his tone softer, almost paternal. "Hatch ahead. I'll connect," he continued, shifting focus back to the task at hand.

Bjorn, still grumbling, adjusted his mask. "It's cold as fuck in there," he muttered, rubbing his gloved hands together. "What is it?"

"A temp scanner," Tyler replied, checking a handheld device clipped to his suit. "It'll lead us to the capsules. The compression is tolerable, but there's too little oxygen to breathe."

Bjorn nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around the chamber. "Andy, you're up. Show us what you're good at."

With the hatch to the station just before them, Andy stepped forward to the control panel by the door. His synthetic finger found its way to the scanner integrated into the panel. He stuck it inside, interfacing seamlessly with the station's security protocols.

The light on the scanner flickered from red to green, accompanied by the soft click of locks disengaging. The door hissed as it began to slide open, granting them entry to the station.

Tyler gave Andy an encouraging nod. "That's right, Andy. Well done."

Bjorn, couldn't help but snort, rolling his eyes. "Congrats, you're not a virgin anymore," he jeered, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Come on."

Andy, unfazed by the comment, moved forward with calculated precision, ready to perform his duties. You watched him closely, feeling a mixture of pride and apprehension.