Housekeeping — [s1e8]

The "Housekeeping" wasn't about the dead man. It was about the witnesses.

"Captain, the previous seven scans yielded nothing but skin cells and hair follicles consistent with the occupant. He is officially designated as 'Spaced.'" [S1E8] Housekeeping

The air recyclers began to whine, pulling air out of the room instead of pushing it in. Aris looked at the tally marks, then at the wooden bird. He realized then that the bird wasn't a memento. He twisted the head of the carving, and a small data-drive slid out into his palm. The "Housekeeping" wasn't about the dead man

Aris stepped inside. The room was sparse—standard issue—except for a small, hand-carved wooden bird on the nightstand. Real wood. A relic from Earth. He picked it up, feeling the grain beneath his thumb. He is officially designated as 'Spaced

The sterile white corridors of the orbital station didn't usually feel like a tomb, but tonight, the hum of the life-support systems sounded like a final breath.

Aris ignored her. He pulled a small UV torch from his belt and swept it across the wall behind the bunk. There, hidden behind a loose ventilation grate, was a series of tally marks scratched into the metal. Not days. Coordinates. "He wasn't a technician, was he?" Aris whispered. "His file states—"

"Protocol 9, Captain," the station AI, ELARA, chirped into his earpiece. "Personal effects must be incinerated to reclaim carbon mass. Please begin with the digital logs."