Chapter Text
I needed money.
Woah, huge shocker, right? When has anyone ever done something questionable just because they were broke?
But it was the truth.
If I wanted a better life - one far away from the basic, back-breaking manual labor I'd been stuck doing for years - something had to change. I was tired of living on a planet that was both dirt poor and actively hostile. Bad air days. Acid rain seasons. Streets that felt one bad decision away from a fight or a funeral.
I didn't want to die there.
So what did I do?
I joined a company.
Sounds normal enough. I saw the ad randomly while waiting at a busted transit terminal, screen flickering between job listings and anti-pollution warnings. It said the job paid based on performance instead of a fixed hourly wage. And honestly? I was confident in my ability to perform. I've survived worse with less.
But of course, there was a condition.
There's always a condition.
I had to be transferred off-world to a spaceship assigned specifically to me and a group of other recruits. I'd be living on it for the entire duration of the contract.
How long was the contract?
No idea.
Guess it lasted until they were "satisfied with our services." Which, looking back on it now, sounds incredibly stupid. I basically signed my life away without reading half of it. Just scribbled my name and rolled with it.
The guy across the desk from me had this polite smile the whole time.
Too polite.
We were in a narrow processing office built into the side of the terminal. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Plastic chairs bolted to the floor. A line of tired-looking people behind me, clutching forms like they were lottery tickets instead of exit visas. The man didn't blink much. Just kept sliding pages forward, finger tapping exactly where I needed to sign.
That smile never moved.
The kind that tries really hard to say, nothing sketchy here, while screaming the exact opposite.
It was suspicious. Extremely. Red flags everywhere.
But I was desperate.
And I wasn't the only one. Groups were being called, tagged, and escorted through security doors marked DEPARTURES: OFF-WORLD CONTRACTORS ONLY. Nobody was asking questions. Nobody wanted to be the one who lost their spot.
So I did what people always do when they're unsure.
I followed the herd.
Which brings us to now.
I stood in front of a mirror in a public alien restroom inside the orbital transfer station, staring at my reflection under harsh blue-white lights. The air smelled like disinfectant and something metallic. Strange symbols ran along the tiled walls beside human language warnings. A multi-limbed alien washed its hands at the far sink without even looking at me.
And there I was.
Already dressed in full company-issued gear.
I let out a deep breath. "Okay... almost time to meet my new crew."
The words sounded steadier than I felt.
I checked the time on my heads-up display. 9:43 PM. Boarding deadline: 10:00 PM. Fifteen minutes to officially change the rest of my life.
No pressure.
I pushed off the sink and headed for the door. It slid open with a soft hiss, revealing another employee stepping in. A guy in a red uniform, same design as mine, just a different color. He gave me a polite nod on the way past and headed straight for one of the stalls like this was just another shift somewhere normal.
I stepped into the hall.
Maybe I should've thought harder about my color choice.
I glanced down at my suit as I walked. Bright orange. Company logo stamped on the chest. Armor padding at the shoulders, reinforced gloves, utility belt I still didn't know how to fully use. I was fairly built from years of labor, so the suit didn't hang off me or anything — but still.
I looked... standard. Like I could be swapped out with another body and no one would notice.
I shook the thought off and kept moving. Didn't have time to spiral. I needed to get to my ship and meet the people I'd be working with for who-knows-how-long.
The moment I cleared the restroom corridor, the sound hit me.
Murmuring. Layers of voices. Dozens — no, hundreds of conversations overlapping. And somehow it came through my helmet clear as day, like I wasn't wearing one at all. Guess the comm systems were designed that way.
The halls were packed. Employees everywhere, walking in streams under long strips of white overhead lights. Men, women, different species here and there, all in company uniforms — red, blue, green, yellow, orange. Like some messed-up rainbow of contract workers.
Good thing the company at least covered transport to headquarters after you signed. Because this place?
It was on a distant moon, far from anything familiar. Out the massive viewing panels along the corridor, I could see nothing but gray rock, craters, and a black sky stabbed with stars. No cities. No life. Just the facility — huge, artificial, and alone.
Would've cost a fortune to get here on your own.
The noise almost reminded me of a school cafeteria. That same constant human buzz. Same nervous energy.
I pushed the thought away and followed the overhead signs toward Docking.
Didn't take long.
The hallway opened into a massive hangar, the ceiling so high it disappeared into shadow. Ships lined the floor in neat rows, cargo ramps down, lights glowing along their hulls. Groups of employees were boarding all over the place, some talking, some quiet, some already looking like they regretted everything.
Each ship had a number projected onto the floor in front of it.
I reached behind me and pulled out the slightly crumpled paper they'd given me.
1–023 NB.
I scanned the row until I found it.
Guess this was it.
The ship wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either. Wide frame. Sturdy. Built for work, not comfort. The metal hull was scratched in places like it had seen use before.
Comforting.
I grabbed the side rail and climbed the ladder up to the rear entrance. A single light above the hatch cast a pale glow that cut through the faint fog drifting along the hangar floor, making everything look colder than it probably was.
I stepped inside.
Five people were already there.
And the moment my boots hit the metal floor, all of them looked up at me.
I noticed the two girls in the back, both sitting on one of the beds along the left side of the ship. One wore a pink-colored suit,
the other a blue — more like cyan.
The girl in cyan was rubbing the back of the one in pink, who looked anxious about something. She was hugging herself tightly, shoulders tense. I could hear the cyan girl quietly whispering reassuring things to help calm her down.
My gaze snagged on their bodies before my brain could even file a protest—not lust, not at first, just a stupid, reflexive misfire.
And.
They were built like sin made flesh. Bodies carved straight out of the filthiest wet-dream mod someone forgot to delete. Breasts so full and heavy they strained the glossy black suit like it was about to surrender—F-cups at minimum, maybe more. The thin fabric had given up pretending to hide anything; their nipples stood proud, little peaks stabbing through, shamelessly. No bra. Why, I dont know? The same brazen logic applied lower: asses round, high, and so perfectly sculpted the suit looked painted on, every curve begging to be palmed, split, worshipped.
Heat crawled up my neck. My mouth went dry.
I forced my eyes away—almost to late.
Both of them had already turned, heads tilting in perfect sync, locking onto me with that slow, suspicious look. The room felt smaller. Thicker. My earlier words still hung in the air like an invitation I hadn't meant to send.
My eyes moved to the other three members. All guys, like me.
The first one I focused on was leaning against the wall to the right, shoulder resting back like he owned the spot. His suit was red. Something about his demeanor felt... off. I couldn't explain it, but the vibe was there. He also looked pretty built, even through the suit. Not crazy huge, but solid. He stood completely separate from the others. If I had to guess, the ship was maybe fifteen feet wide and twenty-five feet long, so there was a decent amount of space between him and everyone else.
The other two were closer together.
One of them stood upright, already looking at me. His suit was green. He looked the most normal out of all of us. Average build. Honestly, I might've been a bit more built than him, but not by a lot.
The last guy was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, like he was trying to make himself smaller. His suit was purple, and he had the smallest frame of the group. He looked scared. Like everything around him was too much.
Yeah... this was definitely an interesting group at first glance. Maybe even a future headache.
They were all still staring at me in silence, though, not a single one speaking up. So I tried again.
"Uh, nice to meet you all," I said.
Silence.
Nobody answered. They just kept looking at me like I'd said something weird. It made me a little uncomfortable, not gonna lie. Maybe whatever brought them here hit them harder than it hit me. If I had to guess.
I raised an eyebrow under my helmet, even though no one could see it. Their expressions were completely hidden behind their visors, which only made everything feel more tense. Hard to read people when all you see is your own reflection staring back.
One thing I did notice in the quiet, though, was the red-suit guy occasionally shifting his head toward the two girls. I don't know how I could tell — maybe just the way his helmet angled, the pauses — but something about it felt off. Wrong. Like his attention wasn't innocent.
Even the girls noticed.
The cyan one subtly pulled the pink one closer, more protective now. Like she could feel his stare through the helmet. Those suits weren't exactly loose, either. If I had to guess, she was glaring at him under that visor.
It bothered me. A lot. But I told myself not to judge too fast. Still, I mentally marked him down as someone to watch.
"Okaaaay... I guess I'll introduce myself," I said, gesturing lightly with my hands. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N). Figured I should know the names of the people I'll be working with. What about you guys?"
A few seconds passed. I started thinking I'd get nothing again.
Then a soft, feminine voice spoke up. It was the cyan-suit girl.
"Emma... Emma Hansley."
Her voice was smooth. Calm. Easy on the ears.
I felt myself relax a bit. Finally, progress. "Nice to meet you, Emma."
She gently nudged the girl next to her.
After a second, the pink-suit girl spoke. "S-Selma. Selma Hansley." Quiet. Timid. She even stuttered a little at the start.
Yeah. Definitely shy.
Then it hit me. Same last name. Similar first names.
"So you two are sisters?" I asked.
Emma answered. "Yeah. Twins, actually."
Both of them nodded once. Emma confident. Selma a bit hesitant.
And yeah... they really did look alike. Same height. Same build. Same proportions. Not being weird about it — it was just obvious.
"Well, you both have great names," I said, then turned to the two guys on the other side. I decided I'd deal with the red guy last.
After another moment of awkward quiet, the green-suit guy spoke up.
"Kyle. Kyle Jackson. Sup, dude." His tone was low-energy but friendly enough. He jerked his head up in a casual greeting.
"Sup, Kyle," I replied, smiling under my helmet even though he couldn't see it.
My gaze shifted to the purple-suit guy on the floor. He was still looking down until he noticed how quiet it got. He slowly looked around, then at me.
He seemed to realize I was waiting.
"It's Emanuel Miller," he said quickly and quietly.
"Nice to meet you, Emanuel."
That just left one person.
I turned to the red-suit guy, and everyone else did too.
He looked at all of us, but his gaze lingered a little too long on the twins again. They stiffened slightly.
I cleared my throat, getting his attention.
"Your name, sir?"
He stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. "Trevor. Just Trevor. That's all you need to know."
He folded his arms.
Didn't like that. Not one bit. Everyone else gave first and last names. He just gave a first. Something about that felt off in a way I couldn't explain. Judging by the slight shifts in posture around the room, I wasn't the only one who felt it.
Still, I let it go. For now.
"Well, it's nice to meet you all. I'm looking forward to working with you guys."
"Likewise, dude," Kyle said. The others nodded.
Everyone except Trevor.
Then the doors behind me sealed shut with a heavy metallic sound, and the ship suddenly rumbled.
We all looked around.
"Wait—we're leaving already?" Kyle muttered.
The movement was abrupt. I hadn't seen anyone at the controls. Guess it was autopilot. Still, the timing felt exact. I checked my HUD.
10:00 PM on the dot.
Did it launch the second the clock hit ten?
I made a mental note right there. Never miss a boarding deadline. Who knows what would happen.
No one talked as the ship lifted off, carrying us into orbit. As the ship started moving, I realized I was still standing right in front of the door like an idiot. I shook my head and forced myself to focus.
Might as well actually look around. This was home now. For a while, at least.
My eyes drifted over the other people onboard. All still in their same spots, stuck in their own heads. Guess nobody was in the mood to talk yet. Fair enough. We were all strangers tossed into a metal box together. Hopefully that would change later.
The ship itself did look pretty spacious, though, like I thought earlier.
At the front were a bunch of monitors, screens filled with lines, symbols, maps — a whole bunch of stuff I didn't fully understand yet. In front of them sat a desk with a single lever on it. Maybe it worked like a gear shift or something. I'd figure it out eventually.
A few feet to the right of the monitor setup was a large computer unit, bigger than the others. Probably for navigation or system controls.
Further right were three doors. The first one had FOOD labeled above it. Next to it was RESTROOM. And after that, SLEEPING QUARTERS.
Simple enough.
My gaze passed over Trevor for a second. He was staring at the floor, lost in thought. I decided to leave him alone. I really didn't feel like starting anything with him, especially after earlier... and the way he kept looking at the twins.
I looked left of the monitors instead, at the beds lined along the wall, four beds lined up vertically, basically a bunk bed. The twins were still sitting together. Quiet. One more tense than the other. They occasionally glanced at me, probably curious... or cautious.
What I didn't get was why there were beds out here when we already had a sleeping room. I counted them again. Plus the actual sleeping quarters. And there was another sleeping quarters on the left side of the ship, near the main computer.
Maybe the beds next to the computer was for whoever was on duty while others slept. Or maybe for some kind of leader role.
To the far left, there were two more doors. One labeled MULTI-PURPOSE ROOM. The other STORAGE.
Kyle and Emanuel hadn't moved either. Still in their same spots. Guess no one felt like walking around yet. Couldn't blame them.
Honestly, the ship was bigger than I expected. But with six people living here long-term? That space might feel small eventually. Probably going to lead to problems later.
I started walking, my boots clanking loudly against the metal floor. The sound carried more than I expected, and everyone looked at me.
I didn't mind. I was just heading toward the main computer.
After a bit, the rumbling feeling faded. The movement stopped — or at least I couldn't feel it anymore.
If I had to guess, we were in space now.
Not long after, a sudden little jingle played through the ship, coming from the comms system. It was cheerful. Way too cheerful. Everyone looked up in confusion.
"Welcome to your first day on the job. This is your very own autopilot ship."
So it was autopilot. Nice to know my guess was right.
"Where you will eat and sleep for the duration of your contract."
Yeah, I knew that already. Still didn't make it feel any less weird hearing it said out loud like that. This ship really was our home now.
Then suddenly, a bunch of super fast, almost inaudible dialogue blasted through the speakers. None of us could catch a single word. It just kept going and going.
It sounded exactly like terms and conditions. The kind of stuff companies rush through so they can say they told you. Probably full of "we are not responsible for" this and that.
The problem was, I couldn't understand any of it.
And that made me a little worried.
The twins shifted uncomfortably too, especially Selma. But the others didn't seem to react much.
"Make yourself at home. To complete the onboarding process, please review the instruction manual and sign in to your ship's computer terminal. We trust you will be a great asset to the company."
Then, weirdly enough, that same line repeated... but with a slight musical tone to it. Like a jingle version.
I hated how catchy it was.
Then the comms cut off, leaving us with nothing but the low hum of the ship.
"Well... that was unexpected," Kyle said, breaking the silence.
Honestly, I was grateful someone talked.
"Yeah," I replied, glancing his way. "Wasn't expecting a song at the end either."
"Well, I didn't like how fast it spoke during that one part," Emma said, pulling Selma a bit closer. "That sounded important."
I nodded. "Yeah, that was kinda sketchy. But... we already signed the contracts. Not much we can do now except hope it's nothing too bad."
"It's hard not to worry," Emanuel added quietly from the floor.
"I know," I said. "I'm worried too."
"What, scared of a little danger, twink?" Trevor suddenly cut in.
The insult made the air shift.
Emanuel didn't back down, though. "I'm being cautious. Something you should try sometime."
Trevor just chuckled and went quiet again.
And just like that, the silence came back.
I couldn't help but wonder what pushed each of them to join this company. Nobody ends up here for fun.
I pushed the thought aside and started walking toward the terminal. My boots echoed again, and everyone's helmets turned to follow me.
There was actually a physical manual sitting on the desk.
I picked it up.
Yeah... I needed to start figuring things out sooner rather than later.
I started going through the manual, actually taking my time with it. If this job was going to keep me alive, I needed to know what I was doing.
First thing that stood out was the Echo Scanner. Apparently, it was built into all of our suits.
All I had to do was press a button on the right side of my helmet.
I lifted my hand and felt along the side, sliding my fingers over the surface until I found a small raised spot. I could feel the twins watching me.
I pressed it.
A blue pulse swept out from me, passing over everything in sight through my visor. The effect made my eyes widen.
Okay... that was actually cool.
The manual explained that the scanner highlighted objects. Green meant areas or things of interest. Yellow marked items that could be collected and returned to the company. Red was biological matter — wildlife, or... anything alive, I guess. Range was about 50 meters.
Yeah, that was going to be useful.
The rest of the manual covered terminal use, basic ship functions, and the store system. Apparently we could order tools, supplies, food — almost anything.
Except communication equipment.
That part felt weird.
There were also instructions on routing to moons where we'd be working. Most were labeled abandoned.
Hopefully actually abandoned.
Then there was the Bestiary section. I wasn't sure why, but that part stuck with me more than anything else.
Another important rule: once we landed on a moon, we had until midnight to collect scrap and get back to the ship. If we didn't, the ship would leave automatically due to "dangerous conditions."
Yeah. That was definitely noted.
On the final day of each quota cycle, scrap was worth the most. I glanced at one of the nearby monitors.
Quota: 130
Deadline: 4 days
Company Building Location: 71-Gordion.
Then I flipped to the last page.
A warning symbol sat at the top.
When selling scrap to the company, follow procedure exactly.
Do not loiter around the counter.
Prepare all scrap to place on the counter in bulk.
Ring the bell until the company answers the door, then remain quiet.
I frowned under my helmet.
Those rules felt less like business procedure... and more like instructions for dealing with a predator.
Didn't make sense. But a warning was a warning. I'd follow it.
I kept flipping through the manual, a mix of emotions building in my head. After a bit, I felt eyes on me.
I looked up.
The twins were staring right at me. Emma's hands rested in her lap now, not holding Selma anymore. Selma was hugging herself again. They both looked like they were trying to figure me out.
"Is there something on my helmet?" I joked, glancing back down at the manual.
They both tensed slightly, like I'd startled them.
More silence.
I thought they wouldn't answer.
Then Emma spoke.
"What's your angle? You seem... normal. Level-headed. So why are you here? What made you take this job?"
The questions came fast, but I didn't mind. Just unexpected.
"Well, I wasn't forced," I said, setting the manual down and turning toward them, folding my arms. "I came willingly. I wanted better living conditions."
Both of them looked surprised.
"Really? You chose this?" Emma asked.
"Yeah. The moon I was on before had awful weather, bad air, terrible ecosystem. It was miserable. Honestly felt like a slow death." I tilted my head slightly. "Judging by your reaction... I'm guessing you two didn't exactly have a choice?"
"Yeah..." Emma paused. "Something like that."
Both of them avoided eye contact.
The mood dropped instantly.
I felt a little guilty. Probably stirred up stuff they didn't want to think about. But still... this was the first real conversation on the ship.
And we definitely needed one.
"Well, I'm twenty-four. What about you two?" I asked, shifting the topic.
They both looked up at me, a little surprised.
"We're both twenty-three," Emma said. "I'm older than Selma by a couple minutes."
So just a year younger than me.
"You guys got anything you like to do to pass the time?" I asked. Might be useful later if we're stuck out here together.
They glanced at each other for a second, like they were deciding how much to share. Then they looked back at me.
"I like games," Emma said. "Cards, old board games... stuff like that."
My eyebrows lifted. Didn't expect that.
Selma hesitated. "I-I... like to sew. And... spend time with Emma."
"Really? You sew?" I asked, honestly surprised.
She gave a small, nervous nod.
"What about you?" Emma asked.
I thought about it. What did I do besides work?
"Honestly... nothing. I was always working. Never really had hobbies. That's part of why I joined. I wanted a chance at a better life."
"What about your parents?" Selma asked quietly.
"Never knew them," I said evenly. "Don't know if they were good or bad. Just... never met them."
"Oh." That was all she said.
"What about you two?" I asked. "You know your parents?"
Emma looked away. Selma fidgeted. Yeah, bad question.
"We loved our mom," Emma said. "But she passed when we were teens. Our dad... is different."
"We didn't like him," Selma added softly.
"The twins are mama's girls. How cute," Trevor's voice cut in.
I turned slightly. Even without seeing her face, I could tell Emma didn't like that. Selma just hugged herself tighter.
"Well, smartass," Emma shot back, "what about you? Why'd you join?"
"No reason in particular," Trevor said.
"Wow. Informative," Emma muttered.
He just gave a dry chuckle.
I took the chance to look at Kyle and Emanuel. "What about you two?"
"Nothing crazy," Kyle said. "Same as you. Money."
Emanuel spoke next. "My parents made me. They picked this job for me."
I frowned. "Sorry, man."
"It's fine," he said, but he didn't sound like it.
I'd definitely hit some sore spots tonight.
"Alright, how old are you guys?" I asked the three of them.
"Twenty-seven," Kyle said.
"Nineteen," Emanuel added.
Nineteen. Way too young for this.
Then all eyes went to Trevor.
"Thirty-five," he said.
That made him the oldest by far. Another thing to file away.
I glanced at the time. 10:43 PM.
"Okay," I clapped my hands once. "We should see what time we need to be up tomorrow. Probably should get some sleep."
Everyone nodded. Somehow, I'd slid into the leader role without meaning to.
I looked at the two sleeping rooms. "Girls take the left room by the terminal. Guys take the right. Sound good?"
The twins nodded. Kyle and Emanuel did too.
Trevor just stared for a second before looking away.
"I'll sleep out here by the terminal," I added. "In case something happens."
They all nodded again.
"Alright. Let's get some rest."
Both sisters stood up, and the movement caught my attention for a second longer than it should've. I politely looked away, which they definitely noticed. I also realized they were about a foot shorter than me.
They walked toward their room, Selma heading in first, and then both of them disappeared inside.
Kyle yawned and headed in. Emanuel followed quietly.
Trevor lingered, staring at me for a moment before finally turning and going inside.
I watched the door close behind him.
...What the hell was that about?
I shook my head hard, shoving the thought aside.
Tomorrow. I'd deal with whatever the hell that was tomorrow.
Through the bulkhead doors, muffled voices drifted—mostly the sisters, low murmurs about something in their room that definitely wasn't my business. Kyle and Emanuel's deeper tones cut in for a moment, then faded to nothing. Just the soft hum of the ship's life-support and the faint glow of the terminal left to keep me company.
Hands on hips, I stared at the screen.
Might as well poke around. Maybe something useful would pop up...
POV: Emma
"It's... fine, I guess," I said, glancing at Selma already perched on the edge of the lower bunk, testing the mattress with a little pat.
"Eh. I was hoping for bigger," she replied, giving the thin pad another disappointed smack. "Feels like we're sleeping on a shelf."
The room was standard-issue: compact, functional, one bunk set instead of the four-stacker next to the terminal. Bare walls, dim overheads, that same sterile scent of recycled air and metal.
I turned, peering through the small reinforced window in the door. There he was—(Y/N)—hunched over the terminal instead of crashing out. Probably getting a feel for the systems. The guy had slipped into the leader role without even trying. Last one aboard, first one to crack the ice. Funny how that worked.
Sitting in total silence with the group earlier had been brutal. His awkward small-talk had actually helped. Except Trevor. That asshole had made it crystal clear he was eye-fucking every curve on Selma and me, visor or no visor. Uncomfortable didn't cover it. I was pretty sure (Y/N) had clocked it too—he'd looked away fast, kept it respectful. Points for that.
"Hey, Selma... what do you think of (Y/N)?" I asked, still watching him through the glass.
She tilted her helmet, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... can we trust him? Does he seem like he's got some angle?" I folded my arms under my chest—fuck, these suits did nothing to hide how much everything moved when I breathed.
Selma leaned forward, peering past me. "He seems... nice. Didn't stare like the others. Looked away when he caught himself. And he's easy to talk to." Her voice trailed off, oddly soft, like she had more but wasn't ready to say it.
I hummed. "Really."
He stretched then—arms up, back arching, a low yawn rolling out. The suit pulled tight across his shoulders. Then he glanced over his shoulder, straight toward our door. I jerked my head away fast, heat crawling up my neck for no damn reason.
"He's definitely not a creep like Trevor," I muttered.
"Definitely not," Selma agreed, quick.
I glanced down at myself—cyan latex stretched glossy and obscene over every swell, nipples faintly outlined if the light hit right, hips and ass rounded out like the suit was designed to advertise. We'd spent years dodging leers, handsy assholes, guys who saw tits and ass and nothing else. Mom drilled it into us: don't flash it, don't flaunt it, wait for someone who sees you. She'd learned the hard way with Dad. We'd learned from watching her.
"Let's crash, sis. I'll take top." I climbed up, the suit creaking softly, everything shifting and jiggling in that annoying, unavoidable way.
"We're sleeping in these?" Selma asked.
"Yeah. Comfortable enough, weirdly. And it feels... safer. Ready for whatever hits at 0500." I dropped onto my back, the mattress barely giving.
"Same," she said, settling in below. "Not like we've got pajamas anyway."
I chuckled. "True."
"Goodnight, sis."
"Night."
Sleep started pulling us under slow.
POV: General
02:17.
A shadow detached from the men's quarters—quiet steps, lights off except the cold blue glow from the terminal. The figure paused, visor turning toward your bunk. You lay flat on your back, chest rising and falling in slow, even rhythm. Asleep. Or looking it.
His gaze slid to the sisters' door. Light still on. Forgotten. A slow, hungry smile curled under his helmet.
Trevor.
He eased the door open, slipped inside.
The cyan suit gleamed on the top bunk—Emma on her stomach, ass curved high and round, the material so tight it traced the cleft. Below, Selma lay on her back, pink suit stretched drum-taut over breasts that rose and fell with each breath, heavy, full, nipples dark points pressing against the glossy surface like they were waiting.
He licked his lips.
Rocket bodies. Built to be touched. Claimed.
He crept closer, hovering over the lower bunk. Selma shifted—small groan, body rolling just enough to make her chest sway. His pulse hammered. Been too long.
Fingers found the zipper at her throat. Slow drag downward. Pale skin bloomed into view—no bra, of course. Why bother? More zipper. The swell of her breast emerged, then the edge of her areola. Almost there—
His elbow clipped the bunk frame.
Her eyes snapped open.
POV: (Y/N)
A scream ripped through the ship—high, raw.
THUD.
I launched off the bunk, hit the deck hard, already sprinting. Door slammed open.
Trevor. In their room. Hands raised like a caught thief.
Emma stood between him and Selma—shielding her sister, who curled in on herself, arms clamped over her chest, suit unzipped halfway down, pale skin and the inner curves of her breasts exposed, trembling.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" My voice came out low, edged.
Emma answered for him, venom dripping. "This creep tried to feel up my sister. Got her zipper halfway down before she woke up. Thankfully."
I stared at him. "You tried to sexually assault her. First night."
He shrugged, smirking. "Look at them. Bodies like that? I needed a piece. Been a while."
Emma's voice cracked with fury. "You're fucking sick—"
"No rules here," he sneered. "I can do what I want."
Kyle and Emanuel stumbled in, bleary. "What the hell—?"
Trevor's gaze dropped deliberately to Emma's chest—still heaving, suit hugging every curve. She followed his stare, arm snapping up to cover herself.
"Watch me," he said, reaching straight for her breast.
Emma flinched back.
I moved before I thought—caught his wrist, yanked hard. "Enough."
He jerked free, turned fully to me. "Or what?"
I stepped in close. Visors locked. "Try me."
Seconds stretched. Tension thick enough to choke on. He glanced around—outnumbered by people. A grunt. "Her tits ain't worth it." Closer, quieter: "This ain't over."
He shoved past Kyle—"Move"—and stalked out.
The room exhaled.
I turned. Emma still shaking, brave-face on for Selma, who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, just clutched herself and sniffled.
"I'm sorry," I said, guilt twisting hard. "I should've seen this coming."
Emma shook her head. "Not your fault. You're here now. That's what matters."
"I could've stopped it before—"
"You did more than enough. Thank you. For protecting us from that piece of shit."
I let it sink in. "Won't happen again."
Her posture eased—just a fraction. My gaze flicked to Selma—still exposed, vulnerable. I jerked my eyes away, arm up to block my view. "Shit—sorry. Privacy. I'll stand guard. Tonight. Even for the following nights if you need."
Emma's voice softened. "Thank you. Really."
Before I could step out, Selma's small voice cut through. "Thank you, (Y/N)."
I smiled under the helmet. "You're welcome, Selma."
.
.
.
Sometime later. Maybe an hour or two at most.
I was sitting on the floor right next to the girls' door. I meant what I said — I was staying on guard. Unfortunately, that also meant I'd been awake this whole time. I was tired as hell, but every time my eyes felt heavy, my mind reminded me why I was here.
If I fell asleep, Trevor might try something again.
And I couldn't allow that.
What a damn headache... I thought, letting out a slow sigh.
I glanced at the door. The light inside had been off for a while now. It was cracked just slightly, enough for me to see a bit inside.
Emma wasn't on the top bunk anymore.
She was on the lower bunk with Selma, the two of them curled close together, holding onto each other as they slept. Their breathing was slow, steady.
Peaceful.
I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease.
At least they could sleep.
I looked down at my feet, elbows resting on my knees. I really needed to figure out what to do about Trevor. We couldn't just pretend nothing happened.
Just a couple minutes... I thought as my eyelids started drooping.
My head dipped once.
Twice.
I was right on the edge of sleep when—
Creeeak.
The door to my left slowly opened.
I jolted upright, heart kicking. "What— who?" I muttered, still foggy with sleep.
Emma stood there, peeking out at me.
That surprised me.
"Emma? What are you doing up?" I asked, trying to sound more awake than I actually was.
She just looked at me for a second. I could tell she could see how tired I was.
"Hey... I couldn't really go back to sleep," she said quietly, stepping out and gently pulling the door closed behind her. Selma still sounded asleep inside.
Then she did something I didn't expect.
She sat down next to me.
I stayed quiet, blinking a bit, letting my brain catch up. "A lot on your mind?" I asked.
"Yeah... something like that," she said with a dry little chuckle.
"You wanna get something off your chest?"
"Yeah." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I don't think I really said how thankful I am for what you did earlier."
She looked down at her hands. They were shaking a little.
"I was honestly really scared. The way he looked at me... like I was just an object. Like I didn't matter. I don't even wanna think about what would've happened if you didn't come in."
She hugged herself, looking off to the side.
I studied her for a moment. "That fear's what kept you awake?"
"Bingo," she said with another dry chuckle. "Right on the money."
I was about to speak, but she continued.
"You being out here helped, though. A lot. Especially for Selma. Because of you, she knocked out pretty fast. I just... my brain wouldn't stop."
"Hey," I said gently. "Don't beat yourself up. I'm just glad I could help."
She turned her helmet toward me, quiet for a second.
"You know, (Y/N)... you're alright. I'm glad me and my sister ended up on the same ship as you. I feel like, with you here, we'll be in good hands."
I let out a small huff. "That's some high praise. Maybe lower your expectations a bit."
"I don't think I need to," she said. "Me and Selma are pretty good at reading people."
"Really now—" I started, but a yawn cut me off.
She noticed immediately.
"You sound exhausted," she said, voice softening. "You should sleep. I feel bad."
"I will," I said. "I'll just sleep here by the door."
"Wouldn't your bed be more comfortable? I doubt Trevor would try anything right now..."
I shook my head. "I can sleep here. I meant it when I said I'd stay on guard."
She shifted a little, clearly unsure.
"Trust me," I added. "I've slept in worse spots than this. This is light work."
She gave me a long look, like she was trying to read if I was lying.
"...Okay," she sighed. "I'll let it go. But please get some rest. I'd feel awful if we're the reason you run yourself into the ground."
"Don't worry," I said. "I got it covered."
She stood up slowly, facing the door again. Then she looked back at me one more time.
"Whatever you say... Goodnight, (Y/N)."
"Goodnight, Emma."
She slipped back inside and closed the door softly behind her, leaving me alone in the quiet hallway again.
A small, tired smile pulled at my lips.
Time to finally sleep.
I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes — still alert, even as sleep slowly tried to claim me.