A Different Kind of Darkness

Space was dark.

There was an exception in the Atlas system, and that was the planet Atlas itself. The Gunner looked through the cockpit of his scoutship, the world hanging there amongst the darkness of the void. A new world. A new home. So named because it would carry Earth on its shoulders like a god with too much time on his hands. No pun intended.

"Atlas, baby, here we come!"

The Gunner remained silent. One of the other scoutship pilots was entering jubilation. A concept that humanity had abandoned for a millennium.

Entering atmosphere in sixty seconds.

At least the computer knew the score.

The Gunner strapped himself in. Artificial gravity allowed him to operate just fine in his scoutship while in space, but not even 31st century technology was enough to prevent the need to do your belt up for a re-entry. Not that it was technically a re-entry he thought. He'd never entered Atlas's atmosphere before. This would be a first entry. First landfall. First contact, if the suspected alien life was sapient. He wondered what he would say if such a thing occurred. And after deciding that it would be best to leave that to the more chatty members of the advance team, he cast one last look into the void of space.

Still dark.

Darkness. It was everywhere. The darkness of a black hole was swallowing the light of Earth's sun, its gravity so immense that no light would ever escape it. The darkness of the galaxy surrounded his ship, no atmosphere present to focus the light of stars. When night came to Atlas, he would see the darkness of the universe in a different manner – punctuated by those stars, but still mostly dark nonetheless.

Beginning re-entry sequence.

"Yippie ki-yay!"

The Gunner closed his eyes. Darkness of another kind met him. Kept with him even as his scoutship began to glow with the heat of atmospheric friction.

"Um, I think we've got a problem here."

The Gunner opened his eyes. The glow was there. As were concerning readings on his terminal.

"Got a low pressure system moving in. It…it…oh shit!"

And was knocked aside as something hit his ship.

The Gunner spun his head round. His ship spun around. On his radar, he could see his fellow scoutships doing the same thing. All out of control. All hurtling towards the ground. His included.

Initiating emergency landing procedures.

Why was he here, the Gunner wondered? Why have a human pilot when the computer was capable of doing all the work for him? Why not just send an army of machines to pave the way for human colonization? Why not have the world rest on their shoulders?

Impact in thirty seconds.

Or maybe it already was.

The Gunner's head spun as the centrifugal gravity caught up with him. Darkness. It was everywhere. It was back in Sol, devouring its light. It was in the void of space. It was creeping in on his own mind.

And as the ship hit the surface of Atlas, as the Gunner blacked out, darkness of a different kind consumed him.