Convicted

Darkness had settled over The Musk. Paul wondered why the lights had not been fixed yet.

What could be taking so long? he thought. After priming the shields, he was not too far away from the electrical room. He decided to check in on the situation.

Orientating himself with limited vision, Paul hurried towards Electrical. The dark and empty hallways were even more ominous than they had been. The dim illumination of the emergency lights and glow of the miniature reactors in the shields room made it survivable but didn't help ease the apprehension Paul felt from the sinister shadows that seemed to surround him.

Passing through the storage area increased his anxiety. In the dark, the larger the room, the more unknown beings lurked in unseen spaces. The containers loomed above him as he moved within the void.

As he walked around metal crates, Paul was startled by what sounded like a distant enclosed explosion. He stopped in his tracks as he listened further, his breathing ragged and short. Paul's eyebrows stitched together. It didn't sound like any mechanical accident but more like a gunshot. He thought that it might somehow be something related to the lights being down. Paul shrugged it off seeing as how there were no warnings that followed and picked up the pace continuing through the dark ship.

It was not long until he reached the other side of the storage area, only a few paces from what was known as Electrical.

With growing determination, Paul jogged the last few steps to the room and turned the corner, cracking his knuckles as he prepared himself for the extra task.

Turning the corner, the situation was much worse than he had anticipated.

As he entered the seemingly empty room, the sound of a great storm of electricity amplified. Examining the light control box from the entrance Paul thought he saw sparks flying. The silver-colored panel covering the wires and breakers was ajar and glowing embers of orange and blue and white danced out of the control box.

Moving closer, he recalled the vigorous training he had endured in preparation for the mission. This should be a simple fix compared to the other situations he had been trained for. Finally mustering the courage, he ripped open the metal cover and stared into the cascading lights.

The control box was in disarray. The switches were unhinged or in incorrect positions and their frequency indicators were volatile or static. Paul scanned the mess of switches and relays and assessed if there was any electrical danger. Luckily, it looked like there was no risk of an electrical fire or full system failure. With no loose wires found, Paul's engineering skills kicked in. Correcting the switches didn't take long and shortly Paul had things in the correct order.

It was only several seconds after the switches were fixed when Paul heard the return of a surge of electricity. The Musk woke up with a bright vengeance that illuminated its halls once again. Paul thought he could hear distant cheers from the rest of his teammates as he regained clarity to his vision.

With his spirits lifted, Paul was beginning to turn around to take in the details around him more distinctly. His eye caught a glint of red, barely noticeable on the floor. Paul almost looked away, his mind brushing it off, but turned his head back to what looked like a flowing stream of liquid coming from around the corner of the room as if something had been dragged there. For a moment, he thought it was a tiny bit of fuel dripped on the floor by one of the crew.

It wasn't.

The trail crept close to the side of the wall, it spread and soaked the fine material that acted as an insulator to the thick wires on the floor. Paul's pulse began to rise as the slick scarlet gained distance.

His mind reeled with possibilities, but deep down he already knew what this was. Blood. Fresh and flowing. In the back of his mind, Paul was urging himself to stay away from it and to mind his own business. To finish his tasks. But his curiosity spurred him on, coaxing him to move towards the direction of the source. Was he hallucinating?

Paul felt faint yet inquisitive as he reached the end of the wall seeing the stream curve around the corner. His stomach churned and his heartbeat drummed with a consistent but rapid pace. All it took was one reluctant peek to change all of Paul's intentions.

It wasn't like anything he had seen before.

Lying in a pool of blood, Paul found the remains of the astronaut in a pink spacesuit. He remembered that she was the one who had reported the first body. Blue. The bottom half of the woman's body lay slumped up against a wall, the spine protruding from a ragged and bloody waist. It was like the first body discovered, but the exact opposite. The shredded waist looked as if something had ripped the astronaut apart in a display of strength. Paul noticed blood splattered across the electrical equipment. Not even the worst of engineering accidents could have done that kind of damage, unless some explosion had occurred. It seemed like there had been a struggle. Paul identified an army knife in the corner of the room coated in some kind of greenish liquid.

Paul staggered back as he took in the scene, his heart beating wildly in his chest, his mind plastered with the monstrous image even when he glanced away.

He had to warn everybody else.

Paul steadily brought out the reporting device. Being reminded of the Pink's corpse as the blood neared his foot, he sounded the single syllable alarm.

With the protocol activated he sprinted out of the room; his thoughts fixed on the cafeteria table. The bloodied body of his dead crewmate still etched into his eyes, Paul sped through storage and up towards the cafeteria.

Reaching the round table in what felt like record time, he caught his breath and waited for the others. As he did, Paul thought of how he would explain what he had seen. From all four entrances, exasperated members of the crew came streaming in and gathered at the table, their mood solemn and grim.

Paul couldn't tell whether everyone was present. With the two dead astronauts, that left an eight-man crew. There were seven present. Emergency meetings were one of the most critical protocols. Maybe the astronaut was just slow. Either way, Paul had to share the news with his now impatient teammates.

Finding his courage and breath Paul projected his voice to sound confident but felt like a withering child on the inside. He didn't show it.

"Pink is dead," he reported plainly hoping to catch any reactions. It was impossible to do so with the opaque visors shielding their faces, so he continued. "I found her body in Electrical after I fixed the lights. No engineering accident could have done it," Paul warned, his voice becoming accusingly low. "It must be one of you."

The remaining astronauts continued to stare at him like they didn't understand what he had said. Paul was about to prompt them for their verdict, understanding that they were all weary and fatigued, but there was no need.

"Was it you?" mocked an astronaut in a lime-colored space suit. It was Luke he remembered. The awkward conversation he had with him before they arrived was unforgettable and now, he dared to accuse him. It was outrageous. Paul felt his pulse rise, bringing with it a small flame of resentment for the man.

"How can you say I murdered her?" Paul replied, in a quietly raised voice. "Where is your proof? I was the one who fixed the lights, you should be grateful!" He thought he saw Luke smirk under his visor in response to such a reaction.

Silence followed. It wasn't until the same astronaut who spoke up at the last emergency meeting voiced his assertions once again. "I believe it was White," Orange said nonchalantly. "He was the one nearest to the electrical room. I saw him exiting it on my way to the admin moments before this meeting." He had a composed demeanor unlike the last time he had spoken but his argument was no less convincing.

"Yes," chirped in Cyan. "I saw him near the lower engine as well."

Two witnesses. The evidence was too strong to deny. The astronauts were thirsty for someone to blame. Their confusion and anger amounted to this moment.

It had been a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Let's eject him!" yelled another astronaut.

White began to whimper, he looked frantically around the table for support but found none.

"We'll vote on it," Orange suggested. "All in favor of ejecting White say 'Aye'."

The chorus of the agreement was all the crew needed. The jury had spoken.

Although some hesitated initially, they eventually joined in to restrain the white suited astronaut to avoid looking suspicious by not helping with the swift execution of the convicted murderer. The six joined together and carried White to the door that led to the dark unknowns. White struggled and resisted but was overpowered by the strength of the united team. They threw him into the chamber, quickly sealing the doors.

White pounded on the metal, howling that it wasn't him, that he was innocent. The crew didn't say a word, letting the sobs and screams of their accused crewmate resonate throughout The Musk.

It all went silent with a sweep of air, the sound of something getting sucked out into the vacuum. It was finished. The murderer was gone.

The astronaut's body floated into view through the windows at the side of the cafeteria. He would only last a few moments on the oxygen in his helmet. White would experience a minute of tranquility, a time of peaceful quietness before his death process starts. He might be able to catch glimpses of some distant planets, stars, and possibly solar systems while he gently glided through space. An entrancing view that will last for however long he could hold his hold his breath or withstand the freezing temperatures.

An ominous silence swept over the remaining crew as they watched the astronaut get farther away until he became one with the stars. The team began to pull away from the meeting table. The problem had been dealt with. It was time to resume work.