TOO FAST. TRY AGAIN.

"Having trouble with that, Cyan?" White chuckled.

"Yep. Damn thing is so touchy." I swiped my ID again, being careful not to go so fast this time.

TOO SLOW. TRY AGAIN.

I gritted my teeth and tried again.

BAD READ. TRY AGAIN.

"Fuck this thing," I hissed.

Purple, who had just entered the room and had probably overheard, giggled a little. "Here, can I show you a trick?"

"Please," I groaned, handing her my card.

She held the card over the slot. "The trick is to move your elbow, not your shoulder. Go at the speed that feels natural." She demonstrated over the reader. "You try."

I took the card back, feeling skeptical but willing to trust her.

ACCEPTED. THANK YOU.

"Thanks," I said with a smile. "I swear this machine has something against me."

"Everyone on the station has trouble with it. That's the problem with this old equipment. It took me a month of struggling on my last voyage to learn that trick." Purple swiped her own card, flashed a peace sign at us, and stepped back outside.

"Well, I'm off to the Medbay to scan. Want to join me?" White asked.

"No, but thank you for offering. I started a wiring project yesterday that I need to work on." I too left the room.

We've only been up here for a week, but my sense of time already feels skewed. It seems like I've been on this ship for months, but at the same time like the launch was only yesterday.

On the second day of the trip, everyone on board spent the day doing a comprehensive inspection of the ship to determine what needed to be updated, repaired, or otherwise given attention. We compiled our findings into a task list in our tablets. The original plan was to pick a task, then mark it as "in progress" or "finished". Several crew members had mentioned that the extensive task list seemed overwhelming, as well as the master list being unorganized. Now we each pick out a handful of tasks every morning to complete throughout the day.

My list today was to fix the wiring in Navigation, continued from my work in the cafeteria yesterday; empty the trash chute in O2; sort and fasten the tangles of wires in Electrical; download and upload radar data; and replace a ceiling panel in Communications. Like I'd told White, the wiring was definitely my top priority. The lights in Navigation had been flickering the entire time we'd been on the ship so far.

This ship is ten years old, has gone through six voyages, and has suffered its fair share of damage. It has been downgraded to a training vessel. The damage is relatively minor and contained to the inside of the ship where we can safely fix it.

I still have trouble with some of the rooms but have generally memorized the layout of the ship. The quiet, muffled growl of the ship's engines, the others' distant voices, and my boots clanging against the floor were the only sounds I heard as I headed to Navigation to check out what the deal was with the lights.

When I opened the panel to investigate, the first thing that caught my eye was a ragged yellow wire that looked like it hadn't been touched since the ship was built. It probably hadn't been.

No wonder the lights are acting up. This needs to be worked on in Electrical first.

"Hey, Pink, you got a minute?" I called out to her as I looked up and down the hallway just outside Navigation.

She nodded and turned around to follow me. "What do you need help with?"

"I need to replace a wire in Navigation. I'll need an extra pair of hands."

"Got it. Which wire do we need to fix?"

"The yellow one. Can you open the north panel in Electrical while I grab a new wire?"

Pink nodded again. She glanced down the hall into Storage. "You know where the equipment is stored, right?"

"Nope. I can barely remember where the room is."

"Yep, I get it," Pink said as she led me to the electrical shelf. I thanked her, selected the necessary coil of wire, and started to follow her down the hall.

I hate to admit it, but the electrical room kind of freaks me out. The dim lighting and constant low buzzing sound creates an eerie ambiance. Of course, if I ever so much as mentioned the unnerving atmosphere of the room, I'd get a whole spiel of teasing about how "you've been an adult for three years now, get over it."

We hadn't made it more than steps out of Storage with the coil of wire in hand when an earsplitting alarm blared, a single jarring tone. I recoiled in fright at the sudden noise, hurling the wire against the wall as a result. Pink jumped as well and yelped. Bright red lights in the corner of the room began to flash.

Is that the emergency alarm Brown told us about? What the hell is going on?

Shocked and confused, I rushed to the cafeteria. Pink fell into step beside me, as well as Purple a few moments later. The first thing I noticed when I entered the cafeteria was Yellow standing over the center table. His hands were streaked red; some of it had splattered onto the table and button.

Oh—oh, shit, is that blood?

The others had barely entered the room when Yellow screamed, over the sirens, "White is dead!"

"What?! Dead?" Pink shrieked.

Brown sprinted into the room and promptly ducked under the table, turning the sirens off. When she emerged, she grabbed Yellow's shoulders and cried, "What happened? Where is he?"

"I didn't see what happened—there's blood everywhere." Yellow's voice was shrill with panic. "He's in Medbay."

Brown and Green rushed down the hall. I knew somewhat that I didn't want to see, but I couldn't help myself, and ran after them. "Cyan!" Red yelled after me; I ignored him and turned the corner.

I don't know why I wanted to investigate what had happened. The blood-soaked body of our crewmate was sprawled over the scanning platform; the floor and walls behind him were splattered with blood. I only caught a glimpse before racing back to the cafeteria in horror.

Black and Lime had made their way into the cafeteria. Lime was trying in vain to console Yellow, who seemed shaken to the core, and for good reason. Black was talking frantically with Red, probably asking what the situation was.

All I could do was stand there frozen in horror. While everyone else seemed to only be frightened by the fact that White was dead, my biggest concern was why he was dead. There was no obvious explosion or other mechanical malfunction. Nothing else in the room looked out of place. Which left two options. Either he killed himself, or he was killed by someone else on this ship.