(Poke /lh /nm)

“And I don’t blame them. What you’re explaining sounds like plain old psychosis, but…”

Stella's foot tapped.

“Honestly? In an ocean of blood? After planets and stars just up and vanished one day? Anything’s f**kin’ possible.”

They inhaled.

“Take a few deep breaths. I know it sounds counterproductive but staying calm is the best you can really do to conserve resources until something can be done.”

IF something can be done.

“I can see about getting in contact with your station. If they won’t listen to you they might listen to me. Do you want me to do that? Is there anything you want me to tell them?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Stella stared down at the panel.

“I guess… I don’t like not being able to help. Regardless do what you *allegedly* did or didn’t do.”

They kicked at the ground.

“Obviously I don’t want any more of the few people who are left to die, can you blame me? And I mean, listening to *you* it’s… I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m fairly certain I’m real, so you can count on that.”

They snorted.

“There shouldn’t be anyone else down there with you. I haven’t gotten signals from anyone but the other stations and, well, you, in a while.”

If oxygen is low, maybe it’s deprivation making him see things. Or the isolation. Or a hundred other things in that coffin of a sub.

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay, I can- I can try to contact your station but I can’t promise they’ll do anything if they haven’t already.”

That and Stella could easily get in trouble for that.

They sucked air through their teeth.
“I only know what I was told. I wasn’t there.”
Stella looked around again. After almost every sentence.

“…What do you mean ‘hearing shit’? What are you hearing?”