Chapter Text
Personnel File: Thomas "TommyInnit" Simons
ID Number : AI-2491-TIS
Age : 19
Occupation : Electrician Technician
Department : Engineering
Status: Active
Likes : Video games, pranks, spicy food, memes, chaos
Dislikes : Boredom, being underestimated, repetitive tasks, losing challenges
Personality Traits : Energetic, mischievous, impulsive, loves to joke around
Medical Notes : Generally healthy, occasional stress-related symptoms during high-pressure situations
Background : Hailing from the UK, Tommy is a young prodigy in electrical systems with a knack for unconventional solutions. He has a talent for keeping systems running, even under pressure. Despite his playful nature, he’s known for being surprisingly efficient in times of crisis.
Education:
- High School: "Lancashire Technical Institute"
- University: "Oxford College of Technology"
Usefulness (Captain's Assessment):
- Electrical Systems Stability: High – Excellent under pressure; fast response time to system failures.
- Efficiency in Crisis: High – Effective at keeping systems running when required.
- Interpersonal Skills: Moderate – Sociable but needs oversight to stay focused during critical tasks.
The alarms were screaming.
Tommy jolted awake, chest tight with the kind of panic that only came from knowing, deep down, that something was terribly, irreversibly wrong. His cabin was shaking, the emergency lights flashing in harsh, panicked bursts, painting the walls in streaks of red and shadow.
For half a second, he thought it was some kind of drill. A malfunction. Something stupid that’d be resolved before he even had to roll out of bed. Then the ship lurched, metal shrieking, gravity slamming him sideways into the wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
The Aurora was falling.
Somewhere down the hall, he could hear shouting, overlapping voices, panicked orders, the desperate crackle of the ship’s comms cutting in and out. The emergency evacuation lights flickered on in quick pulses, barely illuminating the chaos outside his cabin door. The floor tilted again, sending a mug from his desk clattering to the ground. It shattered, sharp fragments scattering around his boots as he struggled to keep his balance.
Through the pounding in his ears, a single voice rang clear through the comms:
"All crew to escape pods. Repeat, all crew to escape pods. Impact imminent.”
Tommy sucked in a breath. His hands were shaking, his head spinning, but he shoved it down, forcing himself to move. His fingers slammed against the emergency release on his door, nearly tripping as it hissed open. The hallway was filled with flashing lights and smoke, the scent of burning wires thick in the air.
The Aurora groaned, metal twisting like the ship itself was in pain.
Tommy glanced back, hesitating. His mind raced with all of the protocols and information shoved down his throat when he first joined Alterra.
Go bag, evac group, escape.
Tommy repeated the words, speaking them into the chaos like a mantra. Something, anything to keep him grounded as everything fought to break his concentration. Tommy raced around his room, slamming into the bolted desk as the ship lurched again, gathering his entire life into a tiny duffel bag.
With no spared glance, Tommy left the room. He raced down the twisting corridors, tripping on his feet and pushing off of the walls to take the corners faster.
Is Tubbo ok?
He blinked, and narrowed his eyes. That was a problem for future-Tommy to worry about. Right now, the only thing Tommy could spare brain power for was survival. Tommy rounded the final hallway, and thanked whatever lords above that he had clipped his badge to the pocket of his issued jumpsuit. Tommy's fingers shook as he slapped the card against the reader.
Go bag, evac group, escape.
The door stayed firmly shut, and the reader blinked a red light, prompting a re-scan.
“NO, NO NO YOU BITCH!” Tommy screamed, and jammed his card into the reader again, throwing the entire weight of his body against the bulkhead. He brought his fist down onto the door, growling at the metal, cursing it and whoever created the damn reader.
Finally, after what felt like far too long, the reader chimed. The Aurora’s metal frame The shook, defying all logic of gravity and space, and the hallway plunged into darkness. The reader illuminated Tommy's terrified face, and the door slid open slowly with a hiss of hydraulics.
Tommy didn't wait for the door to open, and forced himself through the gap, sucking his stomach in and praying it would work. He burst through the door, and in a single blink Tommy found himself on the cool floor of the escape chamber. Tommy hoisted himself up, and with a glance around the room he saw nobody else. The pod bays, usually filled with twenty five escape pods, was almost barren. Two pods remained; number 14, Tommy’s pod, set into the wall like it always had been.
And twenty two.
Tubbo’s pod.
Tommy's body was shot with an icy chill, but he ran to pod 14. The door, left open for emergencies, closed the second Tommy was over the threshold. He whipped around, duffel falling to the floor to face the closed door. A hand slammed on the glass, and someone shouted through the reinforced metal.
“Please! Don’t leave without me!” A terrified woman stood on the stoop of the pod, tears streaking down her face and a frantic look in her eyes. Tommy recognized those eyes, the eyes of Abigail, his unit head. She was barely older than Tommy, with an expecting wife back on earth. Tommy, mind already shot from the chaos, was filled with dread. Him and Abigail bonded over their shared love of lemony sweets and dogs.
“Wait! Pod, open door!” Tommy yelped the command at the pod’s AI system, and covered Abigail's over the glass. A tear slipped out of his eye, joining the mess of tears and snot on his face. The reality of what was happening crashed into Tommy. He wished it was just a bad dream, too much trazodone to cause a vivid dream of his nightmares.
“Unable to fulfill request at this time. Initializing drop down procedure.”
The frustratingly pleasant voice filled Tommy’s head, sinking into his gut like a lead ball. Tommy himself had worked on this pod, trying to undo the damage to the door system before a disaster struck. But he never finished, nobody on his team thinking anything would happen. The pod's lights turned red, starting the final phase of the detachment. Tommy hung his head, not able to see the fear in Abigail's eyes any longer.
He withdrew his hand, and blocked out the cries and pleadings of Abigail. Strapping into his seat was easy, practiced hundreds of times when he needed a harness for zero-g repairs.
“Life pod, fourteen, drop down procedure starting now. One lifeform detected.”
The voice felt like a tease, dangling the power to save his unit before ripping it out of his hands. The pod shook, and the sound of hissing clamps drowned out the voices in Tommy’s head. Without any ceremony the pod dropped, leaving Tommy’s stomach doing flips. The tiny window framed the Aurora in all her glory amidst the inky black of space.
Then a beam of green light burnt across Tommy’s eyes, and he clenched his eyes tight. The pod grew impossibly warmer, and it began to shake with the force of re-entry. Tommy opened his eyes at a metallic clang and he saw a fire extinguisher, loosened from its restraints, fly through the tiny pod. With a ricochet, the tube of metal flew across the room.
Directly into Tommy’s temple.
“Hi! My name is Toby! Nice to meet you!”
There was a young man in front of Tom, with a wide grin, messy brunette hair, and bright eyes. He stuck his hand out, breaching the gap between them with a single movement. Tom swallowed, shuffled his drink and welcome packet to one hand, and clasped Toby’s with the other.
“Nice to meet you man, I’m Tom! Are you in electrics?” The man released their firm grip, and stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants. He was dressed nicely, shiny black boots, dressy pants, and a pressed button up. But there was a youthful shine from Toby, who’s top buttons were unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“No, I’m in robotics. But those are both engineering, so we aren’t in totally separate sections.”
“Oh I almost went into robotics! But alas, I am dazzled by the allure of electricity. Tis’ a noble profession, my dear boy.” Tom lifted his head at the end of his speech, having dropped it to enunciate his dramatic words. Toby snorted, a bit of water shooting out of his nose at the action.
“Oh god man, it’s coming out of my nose!”
Tom’s resulting laughter drew eyes from the crowd, but the pair paid no mind. There could be twenty new crew mixers happening in the background, nothing would crack the budding bond between the boys.
The night drew on, and Tom and Toby got on like a house on fire. Tom learned that Toby was twenty one, freshly graduated from university, had a way with numbers but almost comically intense dyslexia, and had never gone to space before. Toby’s eyes grew wide and genuinely sparkled when Tom shared his memories of growing up on a ship, with his mothers job needing them to move planets every few years.
Nothing could break that bond.
Tommy was sweating.
Like waking up from a fever as a kid, he felt choked with heat. It was hard for him to breathe almost, and he swiped his hand over his face.
Wait.
He couldn't move his arm.
There was smoke in the air.
Tommy couldn't breathe .
His eyes shot open, and the world was chaos. Chaos that Tommy thrived in. With a single look, Tommy took in the sparking control panel, the shattered display screen, the flicking tongues of fire at his feet. Tommy sucked in a breath and held it. With one hand he reached up to unbuckle his harness, and the other he reached to the discarded fire extinguisher. In a fluid move he dropped to the warming floor, swung his arm to sweep the extinguisher to his chest.
He fumbled a moment with the trigger and pin, but soon the fire was gone. Tommy stood up, hit with a wave of vertigo that made his body spin, and looked around the no longer on fire lifepod. The floor was covered in a thin sheet of foam, but it was already turning to liquid and running into puddles.
The pod was silent, save for a soft beeping from the shattered control panel. The reality of the situation crashed into Tommy, his legs going weak and bile rising in his throat. With trembling fingers, he hoisted himself up the ladder. The window was covered in soot, and the seal was hard to break. With a shove, the hatch hissed open, letting cool air wash over Tommy’s face.
The sun was bright, with an endless blue sky that stretched forever. Tommy winced at the bright light, and rubbed his eyes as he stood up on the life pod. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked at his landing site.
It was water.
Endless water.
There was nothing but water and sky, looking so earth-like it caused Tommy to blink away tears. But here and there, the illusion broke. Two large planets were visible behind the sky, and moving quick enough to track the progress by eye. Not wasting a second more, Tommy turned around, trying to locate another lifepod or landmass to regroup at.
The Aurora was destroyed.
Tommy threw up into the water.