𝕊𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕟 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕟, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕩𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖.
Captain Desree Pepin's one job was to get the crew of the Halcyon to Mars and settle down, but she...
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March 26th, 2826
The Haven Tru, 23rd moon of Persyth, Unknown Space
It was past three in the morning and the storm was still rolling. Rowan, who had been anxiously analyzing data on the planet, diverted her attention only long enough to examine the current state of the weather outside of the Haven.
Rain pattered outside like a lullaby with Beck snoring quietly in the seat beside her, his head rolled at what looked like a rather uncomfortable angle, though that didn't stop him from stealing a few hours of sleep. It seemed almost everyone in the crew had the same idea, Trent sleeping with Burton's helmet since it was the ambassador's turn to go without it, though the air was slightly filtered inside of the ship. It seemed the oxygen generator had been damaged on the crash down, leaving them with having to use their filtering system.
Silas Burton sat across from her, the light from the research center between them lighting up his face. Rowan wondered what he was thinking about since the lines between his eyebrows seemed to run deeper than normal. Rowan hypothesized that his thoughts possibly resided on the grave uncertainty of their situation and/or wondering if it was a strange fever dream. Those thoughts had indeed crossed hers from time to time.
"Burton, how are your health diagnostics?" Rowan asked as the man snapped from his thoughts.
Burton heaved a sigh, glancing down at his wrist comm. "Seems that I'm doing fine," he muttered, leaning his head on the back of the couch. "I'm a bit more tired than usual."
That was expected. "Your body is adjusting to the new atmosphere," Rowan assured him with the facts, crossing her arms as she tried to make herself comfortable, but she was growing more restless by the minute. "Your hours are almost up and it'll be my turn to breathe the toxins."
Burton sighed again, closing his eyes. "Alright."
Rowan diverted her attention back to going over her scans of the atmosphere and the few flora samples she was able to snag before the storm settled in. It was hard to focus on the studies though since Silas would heave a sigh every minute or so.
Rowan clenched her jaw. "What are you thinking about?" Rowan asked after a beat of silence. Something was obviously troubling him and all the sighing was distracting her from her work.
"The mission." Burton squirmed in his seat as he looked over at Rowan. "We are unable to fulfill what we've been training for. All that we sacrificed to be here has all been in vain." Silas paused, pursing his lips as he apparently was recalling something since his eyes softened, donning a saddened look. "Not to mention how we are most likely going to die here."
What an optimist, Rowan thought sarcastically. An accurate statement, but not one I want to dwell on. "Once the storm is up, we will find Desree." Rowan nodded, looking down at her tablet as if finding their captain would solve every problem they faced on this alien moon. Rowan knew it didn't solve every problem, but it at least gave them something to shoot for. "She is waiting for us. Getting back to the Halcyon is our first step."
Silas glanced up at Rowan, jaw clenching. "Whether or not we make it to the Halcyon, there is still the problem of what to do." Silas grimaced, crossing his arms as well. "We are not in the vicinity of the other Scavengers or even Earth for that matter." He shook his head, looking down at the ground. "It all seems hopeless."
"We still have each other." Rowan smiled weakly, not sure why she was trying to be the optimist, but knowing if she didn't, no one would. Even Beck and Trent have been awfully quiet regarding the circumstances. "Not to mention, we are trained for alien terrain. This is just like our mission—a bit diverted in the plan, but we can still accomplish what we were sent for—information and discovery."
"None of us were trained for this." Burton gestured to the research in Rowan's hands. "We were trained for starting life on Mars—not fighting for it on some alien moon only God knows where."
Silas was right. They weren't trained for this sort of emergency. Or if they were, there wasn't a contingency plan given to them.
Silas sighed again and this time Rowan did with him. The ambassador looked up at Rowan, pursing his lips. "We were trained to create a colony with the other Scavengers in different areas of Mars—the right alien world. Yet we are stuck on this slightly toxic moon to our own devices. No one knows where we are—not even we do."
"Have faith, Burton," Rowan whispered, telling that to herself as well. "We will get through this."
"We shall see."
Rowan's wrist comm beeped loudly and she turned it off. "It's time." Rowan took off her helmet with a hiss, tossing it across the research table to him.
"Thank you," he whispered gratefully, attaching the helmet to his suit as he took a desperate breath of extra-filtered air. Rowan took a deep breath, her mouth immediately drying. No wonder Trent made a face. It was salty.
Rowan shrugged. "Of course." It wasn't like she was going to let him die of breathing in poison for too long.
"The rain stopped," Riggs stated out of the blue, apparently awake beside Silas. She hadn't realized he had awakened.
Rowan made her way over to the door, stepping into the airlock. With a hiss, the door opened and massive gusts of wind blew her back. Luckily, Riggs had followed her out and was there to steady her, but the wind stole her breath away. Outside, the tall grass was now flattened due to the strong gusts blowing. She could no longer see the purple gas giant due to the dark green and grey clouds cascading across the sky. And there was a funnel cloud descending from the heavens. Just what they needed.
Silas pulled Rowan and Riggs back, shutting the airlock. "Dr. Elliot, are you alright?" he asked as the other two started to wake up. Rowan took a few moments trying to catch her breath before nodding.
"Yes, I'm quite alright," she stated, taking a deep breath. She stood up to straighten her disheveled suit. "That was quite the wind."
Silas's face contorted urgently. "I'm afraid it might be due to a tornado of sorts."
"Trading one vortex for the next, huh?" Trent grumbled, wiping his eyes tiredly as he made his, fidgeting in his seat. "What we gonna do?"
"Hey, at least we know it's safer in here than out there," Beck replied, adjusting his buckles on his seat. "Let's just hope we can get through another crash landing."
"I hate this job," Trent muttered, strapping himself in tighter as the shuttle started to creak and rock. "Ya'll ready?"
"Are we ever truly so?" Burton asked no one in particular as he sat across from Rowan again to buckle in. "Keep your tongues and bile in your mouth at all times, please. We don't want any mess to clean up later."
"Lord, help us," Trent muttered aloud, closing his eyes. That was his prayer face. Rowan's heart slowed at the thought of prayer. She couldn't really do anything else, but she knew that Trent was praying, and if he could have peace so could she.
Suddenly, a roar echoed outside and the shuttle creaked, shifted, and could be felt lifted into the air. It felt like the G-force training drills and Rowan clenched her teeth in order to cope. That was what she always did and it worked then. But back then, Rowan had a guarantee to walk out with her life. Now? There was no such guarantee.
