Sarah's Perspective
The ship was still and quiet again. There was a new sensation my body had forgotten after a few days of weightlessness. I decided to sit and get used to gravity a bit after the captain announced it was okay to move around again.
Counter to my life choices, the military guys unbuckle and awkwardly bounce out of their seats as soon as the captain announced it was safe to move. The low gravity made them look like bumbling amateur toddlers on a trampoline. I smiled, watching them disappear down the ladder to the lower decks one by one.
After a few minutes, the sound of pop music echoed faintly, but I wasn't going to pay any attention to it. I was focused on forcing my legs to obey me, as the blood resisted its designed function of flowing smoothly through the veins and arteries.
Standing now reacquired, I started taking slow and careful steps. With some effort, I made my way over to Mr. Torres and the rest of my team to see how they were faring. They all looked pale and queasy but reassured me they would pull through. I couldn't blame them for feeling a little worse for wear after the landing, smooth as it was.
Looking around, I saw Miles and the other members of the engineering and science teams busy with various checks and preparations. I didn't have any assigned tasks, so I just stood there, waiting to see whatever was next.
I leaned against the wall and shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to get the blood flowing correctly again. As I did, my eyes were drawn up. I caught myself staring at the monitor, cycling through various cameras outside. The scenery was both breathtaking and eerie at the same time. The colors were muted, and the landscape looked desolate, almost like a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Yet, there was a strange beauty to it, too.
Suddenly, all the screens flickered off and on, and I watched as instructions in several different languages popped up, directing us where to go. There was a visual overlay of a still from our camera, with an arrow pointing to a tiny box in the distance. It was in the same direction as the newly erected death ramp. Every scatter would have wet dreams over this vert for decades. That tiny box must be our destination.
I looked at Mr. Torres and asked, "What's the plan?"
He turned to me, looking serious, and replied, "The plan is to follow the instructions and do our best not to sentence ourselves to death." I wondered if he was referring to the crew or the planet. Probably both.
I nodded. "Okay, got it. Let's make sure everyone's up and moving." It wasn't exactly reassuring, but it was something.
I made my way over to him and the rest of the diplomats, helping them up and guiding them around the level. It wasn't easy with the low gravity, but we managed to stay out of the way of the engineers who were busy with their preparations. After the 2nd lap, all of us were starting to be able to walk without much bounce on solid ground without bulky environmental suits.
On the third lap, I noticed Miles getting into a heated argument with some of the other engineers. I could tell by his furrowed brow and clenched fists that he was frustrated, his tall frame towering over the other engineers. As I approached, I heard Miles telling one of the engineers, "The battery isn't designed to handle 15 people 10 miles."
The other engineer, clearly confident in his work, retorted, "My country puts pride into our work, and I say it will make it without issue."
Miles huffed, clearly not agreeing with the first engineer's assessment. "No way! Over paved road, no way! Over regolith double, no way!" His voice getting harsher with every sentence.
Mr. Torres paused, sensing tension, and asked, "What's going on?"
Miles spun towards us, tripping over his own feet. As I caught him, he responded, "He's saying we will make it there, I'm saying we won't. The rover's batteries aren't designed to pull this much mass on a single battery unit this far"
