Avery Iris

~Timeskip~

Avery had been notified of the ship undocking on the chat the Ambrose crew had. He hadnt replied like the others, but the small check under the message told the others he had seen it. He sat in his room for a while, sorting his things about the space. He didn't have much, that was obvious enough. He had a jacket, one other pair of clothing from the ones he had on, his welding set, a tinker he'd been working on, a feed chip, a few CU cards, and... he didn't actually know if he had anything else. He wasn't usually allowed to travel with much, when he did, it was often left behind or stolen. He also jumped from PR to PR or to a new shuttle every other day. All to stay somewhat safe. A small bot he'd made a while back hopped up his arm, sitting on his shoulder happily. It didn't have a name, he just called it Budd or BuddI. It was a tiny metal robot with only two legs. Each leg had hand like clamps as feet, allowing the tiny bot to grip onto things better and stay in somewhat of one place. It had a small head with a feed system built in, a Cinx cord, and some other cute gadgets that he had dabbled with.

Avery glanced at BuddI at the sound of a ping. The bot pulled up the holo-feed, the crew chat appearing in front of his eyes. He squinted, reading through the few messages. Not people of many words were they? From what he could tell, it was dinnertime, or around it. That didn't seem right. How long had he been in here?

"Budd, what time is it?" He asked. BuddI pulled up a time of 314 YE. He blinked then groaned internally. Wrong time. "Earth time, please."

Avery corrected himself. BuddI pulled up the time, presenting hi m with the numbers, 6:24. Reasonable. He moved around his room, gently grabbing a few things to put them away, organizing his notebook. He folded up the pages, the blueprints pressed between his fingers. Maybe he could get a blueprint from someone later. They had no real reason not to give him one, but he was new so he understood.

"Budd, ask the Ambrose Crew chat where the dining hall is."

Avery murmured gently, pushing away from his desk, BuddI hopped off his shoulder to land on the desk, plopping itself down as it sent the message, the feed still up and facing toward I'm if he wanted to read it. He stared at his feet, which were only covered by a pair of black socks. Should he wear shoes? It seemed like he should. He only has his boots, which honestly weren't the cleanest. But they wouldn't track anything over the ship, they just weren't the cleanest. Ah... decisions.

REWORKED VERSION, I HAD TIME:

Avery had been notified of the ship undocking through the Ambrose crew’s chat. He hadn't replied like the others, but the small check beneath the message indicated that he’d seen it. He remained in his room for a while, sorting his few belongings around the limited space. It wasn’t much—never was. A jacket, a second pair of clothes aside from what he had on, his welding set, a half-finished tinker he’d been working on, a feed chip, a few CU cards. That was about it.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. He wasn't usually allowed to travel with much. Anything he did manage to hold onto either got left behind, stolen, or pawned off to get by. He had jumped from PR to PR or from one shuttle to another so often that keeping anything felt like a pointless effort. If he ever settled down—if that was even possible—it wouldn’t be here.

A small bot hopped up his arm, gripping onto his shoulder with its hand-like clamps. The tiny machine had no real name; he just called it Budd or BuddI. It was a compact, two-legged thing made of patched-together metals, its joints clicking softly as it moved. Each foot doubled as a hand, designed to clamp onto surfaces so it wouldn’t get tossed around in low gravity. Its small, rounded head housed a holo-feed system, a Cinx cord, and a few other gadgets Avery had tinkered with when he had time to kill.

A ping echoed in the quiet room. Avery glanced at BuddI as the bot projected the holo-feed in front of him, the crew chat messages hovering in midair. He squinted at the text, reading through the handful of responses. Not people of many words, were they? From what he could tell, it was dinnertime—or at least, getting close. That didn’t seem right.

How long had he been in here?

"Budd, what time is it?" he asked.

The bot blinked, pulling up a glowing timestamp: 314 YE.

Avery groaned internally. “Wrong time. Earth time, please.”

BuddI adjusted, displaying the correct digits: 6:24 PM.

Reasonable. He had lost more time than he thought, but that was nothing new. With a sigh, he moved around the cramped quarters, picking up scattered tools and organizing the few papers on his desk. His notebook lay open, sketches and blueprints covering the pages in smudged ink and graphite. He folded a few sheets, pressing them together between his fingers. Maybe someone would give him a proper blueprint later. Not that they had any reason to refuse, but he was new. He understood how these things worked.

"Budd, ask the Ambrose Crew chat where the dining hall is."

BuddI hopped off his shoulder, landing lightly on the desk. The bot’s small frame adjusted as it sent the message, the holo-feed still displayed in case Avery wanted to read the responses as they came in. He wasn’t in a rush, though.

His gaze dropped to his feet—bare, save for a pair of black socks. He should probably wear shoes. That seemed like the right move. His only option was his boots, which weren’t exactly clean, but they wouldn’t track grime across the ship. At least, not much.

Avery lingered, tapping his fingers against the desk’s edge. He glanced toward the small, circular window on the opposite wall. The reinforced glass displayed the vast emptiness beyond—a stretch of cold, endless black, punctuated only by distant stars and the occasional glint of a passing ship. The hull of the Ambrose cast a faint reflection, smooth and metallic, illuminated by soft blue navigation lights.

Out there, space stretched forever. And in here, his room was a small, utilitarian box—barebones like most lower-crew quarters. A bunk built into the wall, a single desk, a storage unit barely big enough to hold his things. The walls were a dull gray, the lighting just dim enough to be comfortable but not cozy. The air had that ever-present hum of recycled oxygen, clean but carrying the faint metallic scent of the ship’s systems.

Avery rubbed the back of his neck.

Shoes or no shoes, he had to go.

(I made quite a few things up to fit a bit better- let me know if you want to know what any of my made up things are!)