Chapter 6 - Unpacking

The corridor was quiet except for the soft hum of the ship. I leaned against my cabin door, glancing up and down the hallway, restless. Captain, shouldn’t you be doing something important? my brain nagged. But autopilot was engaged for the next twenty days, and boredom was setting in fast.

I started towards Emily's cabin, two doors down, because, well, habit. I knocked twice, waited, then peeked in before she answered.

“What do you want?” Her voice came from behind a mountain of clothes on her bed. She’d already unpacked, or rather, unleashed everything.

I stepped inside anyway, like the clueless friend I could be. “Just checking in.” Smooth, Luca, real smooth.

“Checking in, huh?” She stood up, hands on her hips, giving me that look. The one that promised I was about to be ejected.

“Maybe... help unpack?” I offered, trying to be useful, and maybe wanting an excuse to hang out.

Emily just sighed, like my very existence was draining her energy. "Out. Unpacking solo mission.” Her body language screamed "personal space," which, okay, message received.

Before I could argue, she was gently but firmly backing me out the door. It hissed shut, leaving me staring at the metal. Right, Emily-time. Got it.

I turned, heading towards Chris’s cabin. His door was wide open, predictably. Inside, it was chaos: bed unmade, boxes everywhere, Chris vanished.

“Gym rat,” I muttered, shaking my head. Chris was probably already in the gym, testing the limits of the new equipment. Good for him.

Ryan’s cabin was next. I rapped on the doorframe, poking my head in.

“Luca! Come in!” Ryan waved me over from the floor, surrounded by a ridiculously ornate poker set. The silver case gleamed, the chips looked absurdly out of place.

“Fancy,” I said, crouching down. “Marshalls, right?” My fingers itched to touch the elaborate set.

“Last-minute impulse buy,” Ryan grinned. “Poker nights on the final frontier, gotta do it in style.”

“Style is debatable,” I teased, picking up a chip. It had a nice weight, smooth and cool. I ran my thumb over the intricate design.

Ryan laughed, and we both grinned. “Come on, let’s see what Danny’s up to. If anyone needs distracting from star charts, it’s him.”

We headed to Danny’s cabin. Unlike Chris’s, it was pristine. Everything unpacked, organized. Danny looked up from his desk, hunched over a holographic star map, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hey, guys,” he said, leaning back. “What’s up?”

Ryan flopped onto Danny’s bed, uninvited. “Nice and tidy, Danny. Shocking.” He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Hey, did you see Zoe in that uniform earlier? Total snack.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, they nailed the uniform design for sure. Speaking of looking good... check that out.” I gestured to the energy rifle case leaning against Danny’s desk. “Orion Corporation’s new line, huh?”

Ryan sat up, eyes lighting up. “Dude, this is the latest model. I grabbed one before we left.” He practically vibrated with excitement.

“Honestly,” I said, leaning closer to examine the case, “I’m still not sold on these over customized weapons. Takes the skill out of it, you know?”

Ryan scoffed, opening the case to reveal the sleek rifle. “Skill? Luca, you know I shoot like a drunken bantha. This thing’s a lifesaver! Felt it in the sim already, the auto-correction is insane.” He hefted the rifle, a grin spreading across his face. “Finally, I might actually hit something.”

Danny swiveled his chair around, intrigued. “Energy rifles again? You two at it already?” He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Give me a good old Warhammer any day.”

I grinned at Danny. “Still lugging that thing around, Danny? You gonna bring it to Alpha Centauri?”

Danny smirked, a flash of pride in his eyes. “Damn right. Saved our asses more times than your fancy pistols, Rossi. Remember that time in the Crimson Caverns? Against those Crystal Crawlers?”

Ryan’s grin widened, launching into the memory. “Crimson Caverns! Man, those things were nasty. Remember how their shells reflected energy? Your Warhammer was the only thing that cracked ‘em!” He mimed swinging a Warhammer with exaggerated enthusiasm.

I leaned back against Danny’s desk, a smile tugging at my lips as the memories flooded back. “Yeah, yeah, your Warhammer’s great. Point taken.” I chuckled. “But nothing beats my tomahawk, speaking of, Ryan, you almost got swallowed whole!”

Ryan laughed, throwing his hands up in mock defense. “Hey! I was scouting ahead! And you guys pulled me out, didn’t you? Teamwork, baby!” He bumped fists with Danny, then me.

“Yeah, teamwork,” I echoed, a genuine smile now on my face. We’d been through some crazy shit together. “Alright, enough weapon talk. Poker later?” I glanced at Ryan’s fancy set.

“Definitely,” Ryan said, already shuffling the deck in his mind.

Danny nodded, a rare, wider smile spreading across his face. “Sounds good.”

Yeah, teamwork. That’s what we were good at. Goofing off, arguing about weapons, almost getting eaten by space monsters... and somehow, always having each other’s backs. Best damn team in the galaxy. Even if Ryan had terrible taste in energy rifles.

This day was a blur, like a bad dream where I was forced to move boxes all day long. We were hauling supplies out of the hangar, all those heavy MREs and flash-frozen food, and it was like a never-ending game of Tetris. Me, Ryan, and Joey were taking turns maneuvering these carts stacked so high they looked like they were gonna tip over any second, dragging them across the decks to the kitchen. Every time we hit a corner too fast, the stack teetered like it was about to topple, especially when that stupid package of vacuum-sealed broccoli went skittering across the floor. Of all the things to spill... it had to be broccoli, the most pathetic of the vegetables.

“Careful!” Danny barked from across the hallway, struggling to keep his own load of science instruments balanced. “That box you just bumped? Yeah, it’s full of very delicate instruments.”

Ryan just grinned, shifting a box of wires precariously on top of another. “Why do they all look like overpriced soda cans?” He was teasing him, that little shit.

“Ryan!” Danny’s voice cracked with exasperation. The dude was about to blow a gasket, I swear.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “We’ll be lucky if half your equipment still works by the time it reaches your lab.” It was all just a mess, boxes everywhere.

The real battle came later when we started setting up the lounge. The pool table alone was enough to make me reconsider the whole concept of recreational furniture. Moving that thing turned us into a pack of sweating, swearing caricatures of ourselves, and by the time it was finally in place, I was ready to swear off pool for life.

And it made you wonder, with all the technology we had, why couldn't they invent robots or androids to handle this kind of work? I mean, we’ve got spaceships that travel faster than light, but we were still lugging around boxes like cavemen. I'd invest my own goddamn credits if we could get some help around here. Seriously, where is the AI when you need it?

The lounge finally looked like something resembling livable by the time the sun, or a sad imitation of it from the ship’s artificial lighting, had set. The big TVs were mounted, the video game systems were powered up, and the sleek furniture was arranged around the electric fireplace. It was almost enough to make me forget how much I hated chores. Almost.

That evening, Joey took over the kitchen, all Gordon Ramsay with his ‘get out of my way’ vibe. He was yelling over his shoulder at anyone who dared to offer help. The result, though? The food was incredible. The smell of garlic, spices, and something sweet and caramelized filled the air. My stomach rumbled, but also, something else... Plates clattered as we sat down at the long galley table, the sounds of laughter and conversation echoing off the walls. For a minute, it almost felt normal. I could smell the rich sauce, the herbs, it was making my mouth water.

“This,” Ryan said, shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth, “is what I call a proper send-off. None of that bland freeze-dried crap.” His cheeks were full, and he was grinning.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Joey said, smirking as he waved his fork in the air. “The good stuff’s going to run out before you can blink.”

“Which is exactly why we need to make the most of what we’ve got,” Emily interjected, leaning forward like she was about to make an important announcement. I thought she was about to praise Joey, but no, this was Emily, so of course, she had a plan. “That includes keeping the lounge sacred.”

Ryan blinked at her. “The lounge?”

Emily nodded, setting her fork down with authority. “Shoes off, loungewear only. It’s supposed to be a sacred space.” Her voice was firm, her eyes gleaming with that weird kind of determination she got whenever she started organizing things. I could see the muscles in her arm tighten as she straightened up. Maybe she should be our leader; that would be hot.

I groaned quietly. Here we go. She was on a roll, and I wasn’t about to stop her.

Zoe, of course, chimed in immediately, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, nothing’s ruining that vibe. If you want to hang out there, you’ve gotta play by the rules.” Those two were totally on the same page, a dangerous combo, to be honest. And I couldn’t deny that their faces had a sort of excited sparkle to them. What were they planning? They were definitely up to something.

Danny, chewing on a piece of bread, squinted. “The loungewear is, like, completely see-through, though. Is no one else weirded out by that?” Wait, what? My eyes widened.

Chris leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. “It’s not completely see-through, and it’s just the seven of us, Danny. If everyone’s in loungewear, what’s the big deal?” Oh shit, now this was getting interesting. I looked at Chris, the way his muscles stretched under his shirt, I knew he had to be thinking the same thing.

“It’s the principle of it!” Danny protested, his voice rising with indignation. “I don’t want to feel like I’m in some sci-fi fashion magazine ad every time I grab a snack.” I was with you on that Danny, but for completely different reasons.

Emily just shrugged, like she was dealing with a toddler. “Consider it bonding. Besides, the rules are non-negotiable.”

“You’re both tyrants,” Ryan said, pointing a breadstick at her and Zoe. “I hope you know that.” He was probably just as curious as I was.

Emily grinned sweetly, like she’d already won. “And you’ll thank us when the lounge is spotless and zen, not smelling like somebody’s sweaty boots.” She’d laid down the law, and I was trying to keep my face neutral but all I could think about was getting a full view of their figures. This was going to be interesting. This was my life now.

Captain's log, I muttered to myself, today Joey made a feast, Emily became a tyrant, and I was curious as hell about that see-through loungewear.