Chapter Text
Monday, January 23, 1982.
7:00 A:M
It’s odd.
Peridot’s been holed up at this station for god knows how long, and for some reason, she’s never been able to get used to the wind smacking on the window to her dingy watchtower.
Correction: slamming on her window.
Its bird eye view across the desolate snowscape does little to alleviate the feeling of isolation, almost adding onto the wind’s loud and uncomfortable wails. It’s at its worst in the middle of the night, when blizzards and snowstorms beat down on the station; their powerful gusts scratching across the worn metal in an effort to get in and surround her numbing skin with flesh eating cold and frost.
For most people this would be hell on earth, but for Peridot, it’s become sort of… comforting - mostly because of her job piloting her trusty Helicopter. That, and the separation from her mother being the satisfying cherry on top. That’s why burning that bridge by coming here wasn’t that difficult. In fact, it was the best decision she could have made.
She swirls the cup of whiskey in her hand, ice cubes clinking on the glass. She takes a small sip, relishing in the light, yet still bitter taste of Glenlivet 12 churning across her tongue and down her throat.
Some would say it’s too early for alcohol. What a crock of shit.
“Sigh…”
She puts the glass onto on her desk next to a few empty mugs, a half used pack of cigarettes, a used notebook and a framed photo of her and the rest of the station crew posing in front of the base. All warm smiles and hugs from people who barely even knew her - somehow superseding the perspective she was supposed to have. She shouldn’t have cared, yet she did. A moment frozen in time.
An otherwise pleasant memory soured by the snowstorm that nearly blew her glasses away. Thankfully, everyone had a laugh about it - especially her - so it wasn’t all that embarrassing.
She tenderly pats off some of the dust stuck to the glass frame before focusing back on her favorite pastime: Chess.
She makes several moves on the wizard, placing her pieces in several strategic positions to put the computer’s King in check. These are, however, risky plays since they leave Peridot’s own King more vulnerable than she’d like it to be.
“Your move. King to H1.”
…
“My move. Knight to F3.”
She takes another sip of her whiskey. It would be an easy win against the flimsy AI if Peridot was actually trying, but… she’s done nothing but play and win for hours. The least she could do is let the brainless piece of junk scrape out a victory, if only to just achieve her one good deed for the day.
So she does.
“Your move. Pawn to G6.”
…
“My move. Rook to G1.”
“Checkmate! Checkmate! Checkmate-“ The AI drones repeatedly before Peridot rips the plug off the wall, a few sparks sputtering from the outlet. The bulky terminal gives off one more automated ‘checkmate’ before shutting off, giving her both peace of mind and a splitting headache; it lingers momentarily, and she adjusts her flimsy pair of glasses with a loose push of her wrist.
“Yeah yeah, shut up already. The only reason you won was because I let you, you worthless piece of scrap metal. Do not expect it to happen again.”
She slowly stands from her swivel chair and stretches, letting out a loud yawn, before tossing her empty glass into the sink that’s already full with a variety of yet to be cleaned plates, dirty utensils, glass cups and various dirty socks that have somehow snaked their way atop it.
“I’ll… clean that up later.” Peridot shrugs to herself, focusing on something more important than cleanliness. Arming herself for the cold outside and taking a look at whatever messages she might have left for herself the day before.
Let’s see what she has for today…
A single wool shirt. Two layers of polar fleece to protect against any unpredictable weather. A green windbreaker as a third layer to help protect against any pesky gusts of sharp wind, and some snow goggles along with a pair of green woolen gloves for full body insulation. The gloves softly blanket her small palms keeping them warm.
She hits ‘playback’ on the recorder, and listens intently to her automated voice going over a few tasks and logistics for the day.
“… Final reminder: I’m sure I don’t need to be told this, but since I can’t rely on my godawful memory, try and get in contact with Thule station and talk to Lapis. I don’t know if Pearl will let me, but it’s at least worth a try.”
That it is.
She swings the door open and the sight of U.S Outpost 31 fills her vision in all of it’s muted glory: Small radio towers pepper the outskirts of the base for enhanced communication, and a large chain link fence keeps both everyone in and provides extra defense against particular gusty breezes.
Various vehicles assuage the landscape, organized by size starting from the small but hardy Snowmobiles and Tractors, all the way to large Cranes and specialized Hägglunds for more complex operations. Then the base itself, with its maze-like structure shooting out into various directions; almost like a dirt road that has veered off a beaten path.
She turns back for a moment, carefully grabbing the notebook on her desk and tucking it into the fold of her jacket for safekeeping. She would leave it, but the hastily scribbled doodles Lapis left can’t help making her feel better.
She carefully heads down the metal stairs, making sure not to slip on the ice, before stepping down onto the snow filled landscape, her thick boots taking the brunt of the cold.
Ugh, she should have put on a third layer of socks instead of just two. God, Lapis being gone these past few days to help the Norwegians up in their outpost has done nothing but make her messier than she usually is.
“Stupid clodding Norwegians and their lack of marine biologists…“ Peridot mutters to herself, a sharp gust of biting cold slicing across her exposed nose, “Idiots should have hired their own damn employees instead of asking for handouts…”
“Well well well, look who it is! I didn’t think you’d be out so early. Special occasion?”
Peridot smiles and turns to face the voice under the disassembled Snowmobile. She didn’t think Bismuth would be up so early, “I felt like getting some fresh air. You know I like to stay inside, but it was starting to get a little too quiet for my tastes.”
Bismuth is an interesting case. Apart from Lapis, she’s easily one of her favorite people on the base. She has an annoying habit of sticking her head in Peridots business which is annoying, but still tolerable since she knows how easy she can be to read. It’s an awful thing to think, but sometimes, she wishes she inherited her mothers stoicism, if only to seem a little… less obvious, at times.
Bismuth laughs and sticks her head out from under the Snowmobile her hands are scrambling around in. She pours out the pile of snow collected in the hood of her thick blue coat with a few rough tugs. Her brown dreads coil around her neck and shoulders, and oil splotches the top section of her coat. With a flex of her sizable musculature she tosses the socket wrench she’s holding into the utility box next to her.
A small, nearly imperceptible scar stretches across the bottom of her eyelid and across her nose; supposedly an injury from a few years ago.
“Too quiet? That’s never bothered you before.”
Peridot avoids her gaze, “It does now.”
“Hah! I think I know why…” Bismuth pats her hands off with a stained cloth before laying a hefty palm on Peridots shoulder, “You miss her, don’t you?”
Peridot blinks, slowly inching away from Bismuth’s knowing gaze. She always knows somehow, “… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hey, I get it, it’s hard to talk about these things, little lady, it really is. But you’ve been holed up in that watchtower for the past few days since she left.” She pats the oil off her cheek with the same cloth, a new stain stuck to the linen, “It ain’t healthy.”
“… I know. I’ve barely gotten any sleep since then.”
“Yeah, I can tell. You look like Steven dragged you through one of his ‘team bonding’ activities.”
Peridot shudders at the thought of having to go through one of those again. Monopoly great, but combining all of the bases colorful personalities into a game that encourages competition is, well… more than just a disaster.
Especially when you have a known cheater playing with everyone.
“Ugh, don’t remind me about that. It did the complete opposite of what it was supposed to.”
Bismuth laughs, “That it was. That it was…”
Peridot fidgets at the momentary silence. She doesn’t want to talk about Lapis, not really, but it seems like that’s where the conversation is heading.
“… I’m just gonna go-”
“Hold on, little lady. I’m not done with you yet.” Peridot pauses for a moment, stopping to listen for what Bismuth has to say, “Don’t ask me how I know, but Pearls been in contact with the Norwegians for a few days now. If you want, ask her if she can put you in contact with them. Who knows, you might get lucky.”
Hope blooms in Peridots chest, and she tries her best to hide how appealing the idea really sounds by holding in another nervous fidget, “… Are you sure that’ll work? You know how she is. I don’t know if she’d be okay with me making any kind of social call.”
Bismuth snorts, a fond smile on her face, “Usually I’d agree, but that’s only if you go in there and ask without a plan. First, you gotta butter her up and then ask her to do you a tiny favor. Make sure to mention I sent ya too as the cherry on top.”
“… Okay, fine. But I’m doing it for me, not you.” Peridot says, trying her best to not sound too grateful.
“I know.”
“So don’t expect me to owe you any favors… because I don’t.”
“That sounds fine by me.” Bismuth affirms with a patient smile.
Ah dammit. Being flippant isn’t working. It never does.
“… Thank you. I… guess I owe you one.”
“Hah, there it is! What can I say, little lady? You can always rely on me to get down to Bismuth.” She says, laughing at her own joke without a hint of shame, “Never gets old.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Peridot rolls her eyes and waves her goodbye, proceeding to the main entrance of the base with an unsteady gait.
There’s got to be at least 4 to 5 inches of snow today, which is a little worse than usual. It might have been the blizzard last night. It wasn’t as bad as last year, but it was still strong enough to bother her and her poor sleep schedule.
The door handle is cold to the touch, and it takes a hearty tug from Peridot to pull it past the pile of snow beneath. The immediate blast of cool air causes a pleasant shiver to run down Peridots aching back causing her to let out a sigh of contentment.
She unzips her coat, hanging it on the rack attached to the wall by the lockers before beginning to make her way down the long halls with a single minded focus, the maze like path doing little to deter her from her destination.
There is a crippling sense of monotony stuck to the beige walls, occasionally broken up by the loud groans of the generator toiling beneath the base. A few photos from the base’s previous inhabitants line the wall, loosely hanging from the pins wedged into the hardwood.
Every empty room she passes is quiet, and dark with old bulbs hanging from deeper inside. She walks a little faster, more than a little put off by the dark.
Dust permeates her nostrils, and the artificial air flowing inside the base makes her clammy skin itch - not unlike an uncomfortable bout of goose flesh.
She passes by the kitchen and hears a large ruckus emanating from inside, so she opens the door to check out what’s going on, just in case.
“Is everything okay in here?” She asks, before seeing the station cook holding onto a silver table by a thread, several kitchen utilities having been knocked over in his effort to stay upright.
Overhead lights brighten the room, dully emphasizing the silvery sheen on the corner of every fridge and table. Canned goods line the pantry, and a variety of half used spices and seasonings quietly lay beside them, recently having been polished.
“… Help?” Peridot snorts and walks up to him, carefully hoisting him up by the chest to let him regain balance on his own, “I might have almost slipped on an egg.”
She looks down at the yellow smear on the linoleum floors, curling her lip at the slimy substance.
“You did slip on an egg, Steven.”
Steven is an interesting case around here both as the youngest and only male member of the station. During a busy day, you can’t distract him from his job. He keeps everything clean, organized, and has the uncanny ability to make tasteful meals out of any ingredient, no matter the quality.
And considering how limited options can be at times, it’s a damn miracle.
He’s also quite the optimistic fellow, often pairing his amiable personality with large batches of good food directly keeping him, and everyone else, in relatively high spirits.
He pulls on his grey turtleneck, “Well, like I said, I almost did. Thankfully, you saved me a trip to the bathroom. Last time I got egg yolk in my hair, it took me all day to get it out.”
“… How did you get it in your hair the first time?” She asks with a raised brow, stepping away from the slippery floor lest she slip herself. Last thing she wants is to get her own tangled mess of hair drenched in nasty egg juices.
He laughs nervously and scratches his head in embarrassment; his mound of curly hair devouring the large palm with gusto.
“The answer might not surprise you, so… best not to worry about it.” Peridot hums to herself before shrugging, content to let the question go, “Where are you heading?”
Peridot taps her thigh impatiently, “To go talk to Pearl about contacting the base northwest. I also have a few… technical questions. The, uh, radio on the helicopter isn’t working too well, so…” She lies.
”Is it now?”
”… Yes.”
”Then why was it working earlier when I was fiddling around with it?”
Peridot balks, “Wha- why were you fumbling around in my helicop-“
”Peri, Peri… don’t worry about it.” He interrupts, casually leaning on the kitchenette, “Why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re going to talk to Pearl?”
“I-“
“Wait, let me guess!” He wriggles his eyebrows mischievously, “Feeling a bit lovesick, are you? I can’t say I blame you.”
Peridot blushes, and her glasses start to fog up. She wipes them clean in a moment before scowling at him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She fidgets nervously, her fingers curling in a habitual tic, “At all, so how about-”
“Ah ah ah, you can’t play dumb with me. You know why?”
Peridot stifles a groan, “Sigh… why, Steven? Please, enlighten me.”
“Because you have the same look I had in my eyes when Connie left to go see her parents for a week.” Steven says before sighing wistfully, a flurry of memories passing through his lively gaze. Soon the moment passes, and he scratches his stubble absently, “Unless i’m totally off the mark, which… would be surprising.”
“Not really, you’re just too nosy for your own good.” Peridot adds, turning to leave. She knows she can confide in him, what with his habit of trying to fix others problems, but she doesn’t know if a fresh perspective is what she really needs, “Try not to slip on anymore eggs, Steven.”
“Hey, hey hold on.” He grabs her hand, stopping her, “You didn’t even tell me what was wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong.” She says a little too quickly, too sharply, before pulling her hand out of his grip, “Nothing at all.
“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands up in surrender, “I understand. But just in case there is something - anything- I’m open to talk.”
Peridot wants to deny it, to snark and complain, but something about how sincere he’s being melts the ice just enough to make her want to talk about it.
“… Maybe later.”
She scowls at the smile on his face before turning away and pushing the door open, managing to make it a few feet from the kitchen before Steven sticks his head out and yells, “I forgot to mention that the food is going to be ready in a- woah!” He slips, falling face first into the floor. Peridot turns to go and help him, again, before he gives her a thumbs and waves her off.
She hesitates for a moment before continuing on her way to the communications room. She would stay and help, but she has no time to waste. Pearl probably hasn’t had her first cup of coffee yet which means she might be a little easier to deal with than usual.
“Hey, P-dot! Ya wanna join us in this very juicy game of Poker?”
Peridot pauses for a moment before retreading and poking her head into the common room Amethyst is in.
There are a few amenities inside including: A well maintained, and often polished pool table that’s seen a surprising amount of use these past few weeks. Several arcade machines with a variety of obscure titles except SPACE INVADERS, and a ping pong machine collecting dust in the corner.
It’s warm and comfy in a way that Peridot can’t quite describe.
“Uh, did ya hear me? Earth to Peridooooooo-“
Oh, and these assholes too, “Yes, I heard you the first two times, Amethyst. What did you want again?”
“I said if you wanna join us in this game of Poker? It would be nice to have an actual challenge for once. God knows Jasper ain’t got the patience or skill for this kinda game.”
Amethyst sets herself up with a wide, Cheshire grin; the expression stretching her caramel-colored cheeks into a characteristic mischievousness. She wears a loose grey tank top with a comfy pair of purple slacks.
She can be a real handful at times, her brash and loud nature often clashes with a few of the quieter personalities around the base. However, when she isn’t out being a base wide nuisance, she’s quite fun to be around.
That is if you’re drunk, of course.
“It’s because Poker is bullshit. Games of chance don’t stack up to games of skill, anyway.” Jasper complains, her raspy voice grating on Peridots headache. She wears a white long sleeve tucked under a pair of overalls, massive biceps bulging against her shirt sleeve. A smoldering cigarette hangs from her lips, the smoke flaring up Peridot’s urge for one, “You probably cheated, too. It’s all you ever do when we play cards.”
Jasper, oh Jasper. Resident dog keeper and all time jackass. Not only is she abrasive, but her tendency to argue whenever anything doesn’t go her way is beyond infuriating.
Peridot isn’t particularly fond of her.
“It’s not cheating if you don’t get caught. Can’t you just admit that ya lost for once?”
Jasper scowls, and the vitiligo across her face curls hatefully in response.
“Not to you. The last time I did was when that damn storm hit, and we almost lost a few pups because of it.” She wedges her burnt cigarette into the used ashtray with a satisfying sizzle.
Amethyst flashes Peridot a cheeky grin, “Ya see what I have to deal with?”
“I see what the rest of us has to deal with.” Peridot mutters, already turning to leave, “And no, I don’t want to play Poker. I don’t trust you not to steal the pot when things invariably don’t go your way.”
Jasper snorts, “Even four eyes can see you’re a damn cheater. Ain’t that some shit.”
“Shaddup!”
Peridot rolls her eyes at the ensuing argument before slipping out and arriving to communications.
A litany of static echoes from massive metal boxes wedged in every corner of the room. A few overhead lamps dangle in the air, slightly flickering, and above that, a fan toils away in an effort to keep the room cool. At the end of this room is Pearl rapidly scribbling something down, bits of peach colored hair peeking out from her cushy headset. She wears a thin, oversized jumper with her name printed over the back.
Peridot taps her on the shoulder and she nearly jumps out of her skin in surprise, quickly pulling off her headset in annoyance.
“What the - oh… hello, Peridot.” Pearl greets her with thinly veiled annoyance, almost glaring at Peridots slightly hunched form, “Can I help you with something, or…?” She asks politely.
Butter her up.
Here goes nothing, Peridot thinks.
“I just… came to say hi, and… you know, ask for some…” Peridot gestures, trying to get some unknown point across. She leans on one of the mainframes beside her with her arms crossed, “… Things.” She finishes awkwardly.
Pearls glare intensifies, her sharp gaze staring her down with uncomfortable intensity, “You’re here to talk about… things?”
“Yep.”
“… I don’t know what things you’re referring to,” She turns to the creaking mainframe Peridot is leaning on, “And stop leaning on that, it’s fragile.”
“Oh!” She steps back, arms now hanging loosely by her side. She stuffs them in her lint filled pockets, “… Uh, sorry. Sometimes I forget how expensive these things can be.”
She really should have planned this better.
Pearl turns back to her with an unimpressed look, “Listen, unless you have something important to ask me, please leave. I’m a little busy with something as you can see.” She taps her notebook, sharply manicured nail scratching at the scribbled paper.
“I do have something important to ask. I, uh…“ Peridot comes up with something on the spot, “Have you seen my radio around anywhere?” She fibs with an even more awkward smile.
“Go check in storage, that’s where you usually leave your stuff.” She responds without missing a beat, “You could stand to be a little less messy. We already have plenty of slobs in the station.”
Peridot scowls. She didn’t come here to be judged on her organizational skills - or lack thereof.
“Is that all?”
Peridot scratches her neck, nerves frayed. She might as well come out with it, “… I might have also come for a favor-”
“No.”
“Wha- you don’t even know what the favor is!”
“I don’t need to hear it to know what it is.” Pearl says, “These radios weren’t made to be used frivolously, Peridot. I know that you miss Lapis, but that’s no reason to be unprofessional enough to make house calls to another station.”
“It’s not being unprofessional! Bismuth sent me here because she trusted you with this, anyway. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“… Bismuth said she trusted me?” Pearl asks, both her sharp tone and scathing glare disappearing entirely. Her entire demeanor shifts, and a small blush crawls up her cheeks like an excited schoolgirl.
“Uh…“ Peridot blinks at the change in tone before grinning, an idea suddenly coming to mind, “I-I mean yes! Yes, that’s what I said. She did send me here. And she said a lot more than just that. Do you want me to tell you what else she said?”
“I…”
“Oh, come on, Pearl.” Peridot exclaims, crossing her arms again, “If you let me do this, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day. Isn’t that tempting enough?”
Pearl looks down with a thoughtful expression for a moment before sighing, seemingly coming to a decision, “… Still no.”
“Ugh! Just let me use the fucking radio!”
“No.”
Peridot grits her teeth, pulling on the tips of her messy hair, “I need to talk to her, what more do you want me to say? That I didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear? That I said something stupid? I - I need this-!”
“Okay, okay! Just… stop being so dramatic.” She interrupts, lifting a finger to shut her up for the moment, “… Listen, when I contact the station, you get five minutes to talk to her.”
“But-!”
“Only five minutes.”
“Ugh… yes ma’am.” Peridot says begrudgingly, her shrill voice having gone down a couple notches. She won’t let this deflate her too much though since the idea of talking to Lapis is way too appealing.
“Good.” Pearl exhales, a small puff of breath escaping her nose, before adjusting the knob on the tuner and reaching Thule Stations signal; the base Lapis is stationed on.
“This is Outpost 31 to Thule Station. Just checking in. Do you copy?”
… Nothing but static. Not even a flickering response from the opposing channel.
“I repeat: This is Outpost 31 to Thule Station, do you copy?”
A knot forms in Peridots chest at the lack of response. What reason would they have to keep quiet? She knows the weathers been a bit dodgy these last few days but…
“This is… odd.”
“The lack of response? It’s a bit more than just odd, if you ask me.”
Pearl rolls her eyes, “No, I get that. I mean that I’ve been in contact with them these past few days and have never had to wait for more than a few seconds to get some kind of response. It’s… uncharacteristic.” She explains, turning off the radio with the click of the button beside the tuner; static tapering into a faded growl, “And a little concerning.”
An obvious understatement.
“A little - more like extremely concerning! Lapis is over there on that base. What if something happened to her?”
Peridots fingers curl nervously, her clammy palms feeling sweatier than ever.
“Calm down, Peridot. I doubt anything has happened to her. I’m sure their comms are just down from the blizzard last night. Radio towers and antennae aren’t built to completely withstand particularly strong weather, so there’s no need to come to any crazy conclusions when there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation staring us in the face.”
“I don’t know…”
“Well, I do… sigh… just trust me.” Pearls voice takes on a softer tone, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Things like these have a way of solving themselves.”
The slowly deepening pit in Peridots chest says otherwise.
“… I don’t believe you.”
“It doesn’t - ugh.” She groans, “Listen, if it makes you feel better I’ll just try and contact them again later.” Pearl waves her off, unconcerned, “They should have everything fixed by then, anyway, if not, we can just go and check when the weathers not so unpredictable. Problem solved.”
“No, not problem solved! These things were made to work, to last, not just up and break whenever they please!” Peridot snaps, sliding a clammy palm down her face before balking at the bits of sweat now stuck to her forehead and fogging up her glasses, “Egh, fucking… you know what? Fine. I won’t worry about it for now - but the moment we get the go ahead to knock on their doors, I’m taking it.”
She stares at the radio hatefully, hoping, willing it to somehow come to life and give her the comfort she so desperately seeks…
But it remains silent, and that terrifies her more than anything else ever has.