The gold of a Starman Super can't be dulled. Even parasitic alien plants know that.
(An imagining of what might have happened to the Starman Supers during the time between Chapter 2 and Chapter 7.)
This was originally written back in March, and I went back and touched it up just before posting it here!
It was a wonder he had even survived. That shielded organic lifeform that had ripped through the Mothership’s engine had really blown it to bits - not that he had checked, of course. It wasn’t his job to do the engine maintenance.
But anyway. Everything was a wreck. The table in his barracks had someone managed to flip itself so its legs were facing up, the GemThieves machine had toppled over and landed right on Sacada, and Sindris had been knocked out by a piece of the left wall that had gone flying. The first thing he did was flip the table back over and the prop GemThieves machine back upright. The screen had been smashed, assumably on impact with Sacada. Larice would have been devastated if he were here to see the game in such a bad state - well, actually, he would have devastated if he were here to see any of this. He had always been strangely compassionate for a Starman, but he made the best company. He wondered if Larice was okay for a few moments. He hoped he was.
Everything was silent as his thoughts slowed to a halt. He glanced around. Huh. This was actually a lot more unsettling than he first thought.
‘Okay Meca, it’s not too much to worry about… There has to be others alive, right? Surely. I should probably go see if anyone’s okay…’
Bidding farewell to his unresponsive barracksmates, Meca stepped out of his barracks and into the darkened halls. Everything seemed much less familiar now. Usually he had no problem going through the lower Starman wing, but now the halls felt much more threatening.
There was no way for him to get to Barracks 1 and 2. There was just a gaping hole in the middle of the hall. Barracks 4 was reachable, though. He poked his head inside the doorframe. There was one Starman in there - Alpheias. He was lying face-down on the floor.
“Are you okay…?” Meca whirred.
Alpheias slowly pushed himself off the floor, trembling. “Why should you care,” he growled.
“I just wanted to make sure everyone was safe,” Meca told him. “After a direct hit to the engine, we need to *whirr* stick together.”
Alpheias clicked. “As if I’d let you help me…!”
He fell back to the ground again, and Meca instinctively stepped inside the barracks, his hands held up warily.
“Alpheias, you don’t seem so good,” Meca whirred. “Really, you need help, just let me-”
There was a shuffling under the floor. A squirming. Something… alive, was under there. None of the two Starmen dared move. A seedpod popped its head out from under the floor and looked around. It felt like forever until it burrowed back under again. It dug away, leaving the two Starmen alone again.
Meca turned his head back to Alpheias. “Seriously, dude, you have to let me help.”
“...No.”
Meca frowned. “Just- Stop being so damn stubborn-! *beep!*”
The intercom’s jingle, fuzzied by static, played across the ship. An unfamiliar voice spoke.
“Metalmen, huh…? I bet they’ll make great new friends… But, some of you aren’t a nice grey. You’re all… golden, instead. If you’re one of these… golden… ones, please report to the upper levels.” Its voice leaked malice as it said, “Your new captain, over and out.”
Alpheias squinted at Meca. “Go on.”
Meca gave Alpheias one last look, then exited Barracks 4. Since getting up to the upper levels through the usual route wasn’t an option, he had to find another way around. He slipped through the weapons repair room and walked through the back. In and out through the engine room, and through a hole in the experimental tech room. Inching his way across fallen parts of the Mothership, and having to avoid the many other seedpods that popped out occasionally. It was a long hike, but Meca had made it up to the upper levels. There were a couple of other Starman Supers there, too - he only recognised Caphys, from Barracks 1. Meca stood at the end of a shorter line, taking up the regulation Starman posture.
Coming out the commander’s computer - or what was the commander’s computer - were roots, vines, a large flower on top, and bits of the old security robot keeping it all upright.
“So… that’s all of you?” the plant inside the computer asked. “All of you… golden… ones?”
“Y-Yes, sir,” one Starman Super replied.
“Good. Now, you’re wondering why I’ve called you all up here.”
There was a lengthy pause - one far too long to be comfortable, or normal.
“None if you are a nice grey. You’re all so shiny and bright… I don’t like that. You’re too shiny. It hurts my eyes just looking at you. And I can’t dull you. So, I’m getting rid of you.”
All the Starman Supers exchanged nervous glances.
“Yes, that’s right. Once I’m finished talking to you… get out. I don’t want you around here. You’ll upset my friends.”
Another pause.
“Now. I’m finished with you. Get out.”
“B-But, sir…! *click* What are you going to do with…?”
“GET, OUT, I SAID.”
“Who are your friends?”
“GET OUT!”
The plant’s screech was enough to quiet the Starman Supers. They all hustled out of the room. There was worried chatter amongst them as they shuffled back down: “What is he going to do with the others?” “How are we gonna *beep* get off the Mothership?” “Are Commander Giegue and Commander Niiue okay?” “Do the Commanders know about this? *whirr*”
Meca had to ask the same questions to himself.