Defragmentation cycles are unfortunately necessary during maintenance periods, and force Rittenhouse to reprocess memories that are best left buried in sub-sub-folders. Most of these are minor embarrassments--being upbraided in basic training for errors while taking inventory, unwittingly losing an auction by underbidding--but on occasion, one particular memory resurfaces.

Rittenhouse remembers every moment of his last mission with Flux in the Jovian military in acute detail--the catastrophic hull breach, the sickening countdown that started in his head while watching the humanoid members of the crew succumb to uncontrolled decompression, wondering how long it would take for Flux to succumb as well, the relief he felt as she managed to warp her body enough to avoid death--

He forces himself to ride the memory out, and gets to the point where they reach the escape pod together before deciding to cut the defragmentation cycle short for once. He steps out of the recharging bay. As he approaches the main control area of the Atlas, he hears a voice.

--and the forest was absolutely still--I know, I know, forests don't really move--unless you're from a planet where they do? It wasn't normal for them to move on Earth, anyway. Just then, a bird landed on one of the trees. None of us had seen a bird in years...

Yuri pauses the recording. "Couldn't sleep?"

[As a robot, I don't require sleep. I should say the same thing about you, really.]

"Yeah...I was just relistening to all the stuff we found. All the other objects we've found have been planetside, so this kind of feels like...we're reaching the end of something, I guess."

[Agreed.]

"And I was just thinking...what would make someone do this? It's such a big project--you can tell that they put a lot of effort into it, but that rock we found the first object under had been there for ages, what if we hadn't looked under it, or figured out the coordinates, or whatever? Would this stuff just lie around forgotten forever?"

[But that didn't happen.]

"Yeah," Yuri says. "I guess it didn't. It's two hours till we arrive, wanna watch some Star Odyssey before we wake Flux up? It's not the remake, don't worry."

[That would be fine. Not the filler arc, though.]

"Never the filler arc."

They view a few episodes in comfortable silence. The object's located in the middle of an empty sector--it's a simple mission, no spacewalks required--just enough clear space for the Atlas to use its grabber arm and bring the object in.

As they get closer to the coordinates, they realise something.

[That's a debris field, isn't it.]

"Oh fuck."

The Atlas is a heavyweight ship designed for towing, and hangs in space like a sledgehammer. It's far too unwieldy for situations that require pinpoint precision-- navigating through debris fields, for instance.

"There's no way we'll get through this, and the grabber arm won't work without a clear radius...I'll navigate a bit closer to check, but it's very likely that we'll have to turn back."

[I'll wake Flux up and let her know.]

After briefly summarising the situation for Flux, Rittenhouse sits on her bunk. Her skin flashes deep purple, a warning sign that she's upset.

"It's just...fuck, Ritt, I really wanted this. We've come so far, and...I just want to see this through, you know?"

[I know. I wanted it too.]

"Let's talk to Yuri about it, I guess." Flux's skin ripples purple before shifting back to normal. "I think I know how we can do this."

Flux's explanation of her plan fails to reassure anyone.

"--and I'm definitely decompression-resistant, so even if the spacesuit gets punctured by debris I'll be fine for a while. That should give us enough time to grab the object and get reeled back before bad stuff starts to kick in--"

"No," Yuri says flatly. "That's ridiculous. Look, I want it as much as you do, but I'm not risking your life for this."

Flux turns dark purple-red. "And I'm fucking saying I'm willing to do it for this! We've come this far, what's a little more? Unless you're too--"

Rittenhouse considers all the factors of the situation.

An alternative solution comes to mind.

[I'll go,] he says, modulating the emotion in his voice so it seems like a rational statement. [I have been proven to be able to withstand hard vacuum, and in the event of any damage, my consciousness has been backed up in multiple locations.]

"No," both of them say at once.

[Flux, you wish to obtain the object. Yuri, you are concerned about the possibility that Flux might have to risk her life to obtain the object. I have no need to worry about a puncture in a spacesuit. It's the logical choice.]

It takes half an hour to convince both Yuri and Flux, and Rittenhouse silences the internal subprocess informing him of all the ways the situation could result in catastrophic failure.

Yuri navigates as close as she can manage--the larger pieces of debris are avoidable, but they eventually reach a point where they can't go further without risking a hull breach.

"Stay safe, you idiot," Yuri says.

"Be careful, okay?" Flux checks the tethers. "We'll reel you back if it looks too dangerous."

Rittenhouse nods, and exits the craft. He's never been on a spacewalk before--there wasn't any need to do extravehicular activity on arms resupplying missions, and after resigning his commission and starting the antique store, there was even less chance to do so.

The space around him is mostly blank and black. Everything around him is soundless. He activates the jet thrusters on the harness, moving slowly to avoid the debris chunks.

The Atlas’s engine nacelles glow white, illuminating his path to the cylinder. Instead of the dull black-chrome of most of the objects, this one is a warm yellow-gold, like a sandy beach or sun at dawn.

Rittenhouse reaches out to catch the cylinder, wrapping his body around it, holding it close to his chest as he begins the journey back to the ship.

The debris around him floats in the vacuum, catching the light of the ship's engine, glimmering like stars.