The Boy with No Name (Part 1 of 'A Tale of People and Apples' Trilogy)

Chapter 9: A New Home

Before them, nearly filling the entire window of the flight deck, was a massive orb of brilliant blue and swirling white and thick grey and vibrant green. What was pitch black in front of them before was a sphere that they were hurtling towards, like a painter had strewn across a portrait of vibrancy on a once impossibly black canvas. A planet. Out of nothing.

"Report," Samuel yelled to his team, who were now fighting the force that threw them backwards to get back to their monitors and keyboards.

"We're entering it's atmosphere," one officer said, frantically typing and poking on her screen.

"Where the hell did it come from?" Samuel said under his breath, marvelling at the giant that stood before them, arms of gravity grasping them and pulling Nighthawk towards it. The ship kept speeding towards the planet, a single land mass on the globe taking shape in front of them which was thick and green and silver. "Back thrusters 100%, slow us down. Aim for the middle of that land mass. Mayla, get that Ring system ready to fire."

Mayla typed on her screen furiously, like she was a musician and the screen before her was a piano. The back thrusters were fully engaged in an instant in an effort to slow Nighthawk down, this time sending the personnel hurtling forwards into their screens and restraining belts.

The Coalition braced themselves from flying through the front window and over top of their monitors, some were too preoccupied with their work stations to buckle in. Gravity appeared to regain the upper hand, clutching Nighthawk and reeling the ship towards the planet again at breakneck speed.

"What happened? Why aren't we slowing?" Samuel asked, confused.

"Backward thrusters must have been damaged entering the atmosphere," Mayla shrugged, scrambling with her staff and swiping at her monitor. "Ring system ready, but we're too far out," Mayla said, as the ship continued its descent.

Despite the sudden and extreme circumstances, everyone on the flight deck knew this planet was going to now be their new home once the Ring system plunged itself into the planet, for better or for worse.

Some wondered if they were going to be a prisoner to the Ring that was meant to sustain them indefinitely. Others wondered if the ship would even be able to land at its current speed, including Mayla.

"We're coming in too fast, Sam."

Samuel rushed to his command chair and brought up flight options on his monitor. He tapped a button and the map of the incoming planet was now centered on his screen, zooming in on the middle and only land mass which was becoming larger and larger. "We're too heavy. Offload the Ring system and we'll take our chances landing inside it."

Mayla stood from her chair, and said, "We are too high up, Sam. It wasn't designed to launch from this far. We can't even scan for intelligent life forms below, the Ring could destroy an entire population within it."

"It's either we take our chances and hope we avoid something below, or plunge to our certain death. Fire it now, that's an order."

Everyone was now looking at Samuel, and then to Mayla, waiting anxiously for her answer. "Load the firing system. Center the nose of Nighthawk to the middle of that land mass. Fire on my signal," She said, as the officers returned their attention to their screens, changing the flight path and running diagnostics. "Read me out the nose to land gradient," Mayla said to her scientists who were analyzing Nighthawks trajectory.

"87 degrees," one of her scientists said. "If we stay at this speed and angle too long, we'll burn up." Mayla knew the risks and nodded.

The ship began to tip forward, Nighthawks speed increasing as it became more perpendicular with the land mass below. Mayla gripped her seat, knuckles white and sweating.
"88 degrees."