Somewhere Elsewhere
Jury-55, Prison Moon
Ben woke up, fading into reality. Everything felt weird. Bad weird. Strange and terrible.
He lifted his hand to his head.
Both felt weird. Massive cracks, dusty and rough. He wasn't THAT dry.
He opens his eyes, and he feels like his vision is slightly obstructed, like his eyes sunk into his head.
He sees his hand. It's... Yellow or Orange or like, some similar color??? And made of stone??? And cracking? Or, no that's just... What the stone looks like. Or it's lots of little rock plates?
He's rationalizing this fast, he does not want to think about what this means. He does not want to think about where he is.
But he should.
He breathes in and out, horror gripping him as he looks at the black dirt and stone beneath him. His torn astronaut suit barely covering his waist and shoulder. The rest is in tatters around him.
He looks into the sky.
A giant band fills the sky. Rings, like Saturn's... Only they loop around a golden brown planet, with several little yellow and white pearls between him, and the ringed planet.
There are two visible suns in the sky, shining through the purple void of space. Purple...
There are dark nebulas at the edge of the sky, fading purple into black, and the view is alien.
If he had to guess, this is somewhere far, far away from earth. Reed, Susan, Johnny... They had to be somewhere around here...
Or at least he hoped so.
He was some sort of stone monster now, maybe his consciousness was sent across the universe, and now he was an alien...?
But he was still wearing the scraps of his astronaut suit. He was still him. Oh no.
He gets up, looking around, and starts to walk, just, any direction.
After his first day, he was starving, he was thirsty, he hated everything. He saw what looked like a supply ship flying by. It dropped something down, a parachute opening up, and it lands, a flare lighting up.
He had tried to get to it, but by the time he did, it was emptied.
He could see the light of someone else, disappearing between the dunes of black dirt, or sand, or whatever it was.
He followed their direction.
Two days later, he was able to predict the pattern. The supply ships were dropping in a line. Day by day. He made his way to the next drop.
He was certain he would die. Soon.
Thankfully, he predicted right. The supply drop arrived, and he opened the crate.
Water, what looks like nutrient rations, and some sort of cleaner cream.
He sat down, and started to eat the nutrient stuff, and drink some of the water.
Whoever was here didn't care he was there, so he wouldn't care they were here. Was what he wanted to do. Wanted to act like. It was fine.
He couldn't do that. Someone else was here.
They were here, starving like him.
He waited by the crate, while he counted out half the rations and water, setting it aside.
Eventually, he can hear sounds, dirt moving.
And then... A raccoon pokes it's head up over a stone, glaring at him suspiciously.
It looks small, climbing up and hopping over the rock. It walks forward on two legs, with a metal collar around it's neck.
Ben is about to shoo it off, as it looks towards the crate, but then.
"Y'r... Leavin' some f'r me?" The... Raccoon... Asks, tilting his fuzzy little head. He sounded sincerely stunned and confused.
"...S'pose so, yeah." Ben says, kind of shocked.
"..." The raccoon seems confused, and narrows his eyes at Ben as he cautiously walks over to the box. He picks up one of the nutrition bars, inspecting it closely. "Y' don't happen t'have incredible resealin' skills, right?"
"...uh. no." Ben frowns, realizing the implications of what the little guy was asking.
"A'right, cool." The raccoon starts to rip one of the sides off the crate.
Ben looks at the back of the raccoon. There are horrible scars, fur that wouldn't grow back, and there are harsh looking metal implants.
The Raccoon's ears perked up, and he turned, glaring at Ben. "Whataya lookin' at?"
Ben quickly turns away. "Nothin'."
The rodent quietly lays his half of the supplies onto the side of the crate he had torn off.
Ben raises a brow. "What's that for?"
"I ain't as big as you, am I?" The raccoon says with a sassy grin. "I'm makin' it easier t' take with me."
"Y'know what, yes, that makes perfect sense, an' I'm sorry f'r being presumptuous." Ben nods with sincere correction for his previous behavior intended. This was a weird situation.
The raccoon seems genuinely stunned.
"Uh... Thanks. I guess." He rubs the back of his neck.
"You usin' that?" He points at the scrap of cloth covering Ben's shoulder.
Ben raises an eyebrow, tearing it off, and tossing it to the raccoon. "Nope. Whaddya want it for?"
"They didn't let me keep any a my stuff, clothes included. So it's my new fit." The rodent says with an annoyed expression as he ties it around his waist. "Thanks."
Ben frowns slightly, not having realized that the little dude wouldn't want to be naked. So, not actually an animal? Or what's the deal here. "No prob."
"I'm Benjamin. Or just Ben." He says, opting to introduce himself. "Benjamin J. Grimm."
The Raccoon turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "I'm... Rocket. S. Rocket."
He raises a brow slightly, wondering why his first name was abbreviated. But, eh, this was space, judging ain't gonna help him.
"What is this joint?" He gestures to the planet around them.
Rocket looks at him with a confused sneer. "What?? How d'ya not know?"
Ben feels defensive all of a sudden. "Well, I kinda crashed here."
Rocket goes from confused, to wide eyed and... Hopeful? "What..."
"I... Crashed here...?" Ben frowns.
"FLARKIN' H' WHY DIDN'T Y' SAY SO SOONER? WHERE'S Y'R SHIP?" Rocket says, ecstatic.
"Hell if I know, there was only a bit a debris by me." Ben admits.
"Good enough, we gotta get to it." Rocket paces back and forth, already plotting something.
"Uh-huh... What is this place?" Ben repeats, firmer, as he crosses his arms.
"Jury-55." Rocket says, "one a th' death sentence prison moons."
"The WHAT?" Ben stands up, looking around in horror. "Prison Moon???"
"Yup. Abandon people here, an' no one gets on or off. They starve t' death eventually, or they die t' the elements." Rocket explains, sitting on the crate.
"So... What'd you do?" Ben asks. He'd rather be blunt, than dance around it. This isn't a situation where he feels like dancing.
"Arson." Rocket admits. "An' they charged harder 'cuz I'm not legally a person in their eyes. So I got death instead a' bein' in prison proper or whatever."
"Damn." Ben frowns. That sounded horrible. He was trying to reign in how concerning that was to him. "So... We ain't gettin' off this place?"
"Buddy." Rocket pats Ben's lower leg as he walks over, only being able to reach that. "I ain't gonna be stayin' here long. An' if you help me out? We both get outta here."
"Hm... An' why should I trust you?" Ben asks.
"What reason d'ya got not to? An' what other choice?" Rocket points out plainly.
Ben sighs. "Fair enough."