IFV Atlas, maiden voyage
Fine location: [ERR_R: D#TA COR&UPTIXN5DETXCTED. _RITICAL FAI+UR/ OF STAR )ATABASE.]
Mission clock: T+ 5.08E9 se%onds [XRROR: TIM_ SYXCHR8NIZATIO011011100010000001110011IGNAL LOST$aVERIFY?]
Blackness. Light bent and twisted, ever fleeting, never staying. One moment, the floor was visible by a sudden flash of brilliance threatening to blind him. The next, an infinite expanse of inky darkness separated him from the rail nearby. The room materialized and faded around him at will, the scenery growing closer and farther as if reality itself was unsure of its own existence.
The sudden luminosity of the drive core. A thousand bolts of electricity arc behind the insulated glass capsule, a perfect storm of deadly intent behind a zookeeper's cage. The cockiness in Stu's grin as he sat back in his seat defies it, and a calm settles over the engineers as they strap themselves in front of their consoles. "We're all set here, Felix."
"Alright. Increase output of the first core to thirty percent. Start her off slow, then we'll make the first jump."
Victim
His head throbbed as icy chill settled over his gut. How long was I unconscious? A minute? An hour? More? The silent body drifting through the air next to him held no answer. He tried not to focus on the reddish blobs hovering nearby. The sterility of space didn't exactly speed up decomposition.
Tabitha was grinning ear to ear. "Position confirmed: we're point-one AU from Jupiter. Second test was a complete success. Looks like the core works like a charm."
"Excellent." Felix turned slightly, the man's grace in the lack of gravity a far cry from what his wrinkled face would suggest he possessed. "Vic, prepare the secondary core. We need to start phase two."
Emptiness. The void just beyond his fingertips stretched onwards, too deep to be real, too vivid to be fantasy. His skull throbbed as he fought back the disorienting vertigo, trusting more in his hands than his eyes.
Victi
"Sir? The second core isn't activating. Looks like the field from the first one is... suppressing it?"
"Perhaps..." The elder brushed a hand over his face, clearly deep in thought. He gave a quick nod. "Alright. Scale back the power on core one, Stu. Ten percent."
His hand clasped shut, the frigid steel amplifying the cold pit inside him as it held its corporeal form. A tug. A second freezing touch. He shivered and looked around once more, both hands now on the safety rail.
"Core two, power stable at ten percent." The dancing electricity crackled eagerly from behind the barrier, two faint blue orbs forming at opposite ends of the glass silo.
"Acknowledged," Tabitha added. "How much juice do you want to give her, doc?"
"Take both cores up to thirty percent."
The orbs began to expand.
Vict
He placed one hand in front of the other, slowly inching his way along as the light gave way to the ravenous darkness once more. A thousand twinkling shards glinted defiantly for half a moment, shield turned into a dangerous sword. Something large, muscular, and limp bumped into him. He paid it no mind, pulling himself further along as his head continued to swim.
Electricity lanced out as they made contact, the bubble rapidly growing to encompass the ship. The consoles in the room blared angrily in response, the lights flickering as the cores began to leech the ship's power.
"Shut them down!"
"I can't!"
For once, even Stu was afraid. "Energy levels climbing exponentially. The glass wasn't made to contain this much."
"Tabitha, cut the hard li-"
He grunted. His skull felt as if it was pulsating, every fiery heartbeat threatening to crush his brain. Door... Can't be far now... He shut his eyes in pain as an arc shot out of one of the cores, burning his vision with a bright blue line.
Vic
Felix's voice cut off as the orbs suddenly contracted. The field within the glass erupted with the fury of a vexed Zeus, lightning and thunder scattering over the room as an otherworldly bang silenced the room to his ears. The shield burst outward, countless brittle projectiles creating a deadly hail as he raised his hands over his face. Several of the shards ricocheted off of the reinforced hull, pinging through the engine room like pinballs as they stung at every exposed bit of his flesh. He yelled as pain erupted from his leg, barely aware of the tethers that coupled him to the railing being torn asunder.
He stopped to catch his breath, his head still pounding as the light stabilized somewhat once more into an electric twilight. Another form drifted past him, distorted slightly by a thin line that split the air in front of his right eye. He shut it, focusing on the view through his undamaged left lens, and gasped.
It wasn't his broken glasses that had made the man look odd, he was simply broken in every possible way imaginable.
Gravity made a surprise visit, his body suddenly plummeting straight into the thunderstorm. It vanished just as quickly, vertigo abating as he continued to drift toward the maelstrom. He reached out in vain, grasping for anything that could alter his suicidal course.
Something slammed into him. The tangle of limbs drifted away from the cores, and he saw a flash of blue in his rescuer's eyes. "Thanks, Stu." He couldn't even hear the words leave his mouth, the world around him still silent.
Instead he heard a siren. A prerecorded voice blared at them, somehow still audible in his deafened state.
"Warning: Breach de-"
The room lurched. He watched as the room sped by around the two of them. He turned around, noticing that Stu was between him and the rapidly-approaching wall.
Everything went black.
He yelped. If he was in pain, it was nothing compared to Stu's crushed remains. Even more unsettling was his face- or the lack of damage to it. Bright blue eyes continued to stare at him, as if gazing into his very soul. Fear paralyzed him, but he was terrified of what would happen if he lingered.
Keep going.
He pushed away from the railing, propelling himself over the last few meters separating him from the door.
He didn't dare look back.
The pilots' cabin was silent. The window showed nothing but a bluish aura, traces of the cores' field as they sped at speeds faster than light. The chill touched his bones again as he glanced at the bodies around him. A beanie cap, stained with red, drifted aimlessly through the air.
None of the others had survived.
The room leaped backwards, slamming him into the back of one of the seats. A crack split the air, but the surprised scream was drowned out by the sound of an electronic voice.
"Drive cores offline. Liquid O2 and N2 stores critical. Maneuvering thrusters damaged. Warning: Current course will lead to collision with [unknown planet] in approximately twenty-two minutes. Course correction advised."
As the stream of curses flowing from his lips slowed, he glanced over the seat once more. Sparks of white dotted the view beyond the window, a bright yellow orb being easily the closest and most visible of the stars. When he saw the dented and bloody control panel in front of the pilots' seats, he promptly resumed from where he'd left off.
"Twenty minutes until collision."
What the hell do I do? His mind blanked as he looked around the room once more. Static buzzed at him from the cracked console at Jim's station. There was no chance of repairing the comm in time, especially with a newly-broken arm. The ship itself was crippled, no more useful than a drifting coffin and just as hospitable for anyone who wanted to continue living.
"Fifteen minutes until collision."
Terror began to take hold as a bright blue ball began to expand across the window. Spots of greenish-brown and white dotted the surface, reminding him of Earth. The continents, however, were all laid out wrong, the shapes much larger and more angular than his native planet.
If he wasn't so afraid of crashing, he would have been in awe.
"Ten minutes until collision."
"ShitshitshitshitSHIT!" His head swiveled around the room like a searchlight, taking in everything in an attempt to find something -anything- that could get him out alive. He found nothing. His breaths came short and fast, burning through what precious little air remained in the cabin.
Keep going.
Jim's cap floated by once more, carelessly floating through the air. His eyes locked on the headpiece, its shape kickstarting his beleaguered mind.
A parachute... If I had something large enough, I could- He gasped. There's a flag in the airlock!
He pushed off of the chair, hoping to drift cleanly across what little space there was between him and the sealed chamber. To his dismay, gravity decided to poke its ugly head once more. He slowly began to fall, but had enough presence of mind to land on his uninjured arm.
"Entering outer atmosphere. Eight minutes until collision."
Blocking out the pain, he dragged himself through the portal. The cramped room was spartan; unadorned aside from a group of lockers and a trio of flags. A dark blue one with a ring of twelve yellow stars appeared to have been hastily placed, as did a light blue one with a white overlay of a distorted Earth over a pair of olive branches.
They were far too small.
A larger flag had been placed purposefully behind them, however: stripes of red and white with a blue field clearly visible in a corner were shielded from the chaos by a pane of glass and an excessively ornate frame. Below it, an inscription had been carved into the metal wall: "One small step for man."
He smashed the glass.
"Seven minutes until collision."
He yanked open the lockers, quickly finding his own spacesuit and several cables meant to function as tethers to the ship. He fastened them to his suit, then hurriedly began linking their free ends to the flag's corners.
"Six minutes until collision."
Despite his wounds, he hurriedly threw on the gear, not bothering to check if the atmospheric seals were active. If I can't breathe here, then I'm dead anyway. Even so, it was a labored process, and it took him longer than he'd have liked before his helmet was attached. He walked over to the far door, the bulky suit turning his stride into a waddle. He tapped on the airlock's control panel. A confirmation came up: Depressurize?
"Ninety seconds until collision."
He bundled up the flag into his arm as best he could, then hit the switch.
The door was torn open with a mighty roar. A torrent of wind rushed through the room, angrily drowning out the sound of the collision alarms. The other loose flags came free, doing a lap across the ceiling before flying out the door. He took a step forward, getting a first glimpse of the alien world.
Oh shit...
The first direction he looked was down. Verdant green fields blurred together into a sea of foliage. Trees loomed in the distance, dotted across a group of hills. A snowcapped mountain towered upward suddenly, nearly close enough for him to step down onto the peak.
Oh shit.
He gulped, looking back skyward. The sun was rapidly setting, bathing the sky in peach-colored light. There were a few clouds strung across the horizon, and the wind continued to whip at his EVA suit.
Oh SHIT!
He squinted his eyes shut, all too aware of the air rushing around him as he continued to stand at the edge of the doorway. Everything ached: his broken arm, his lacerated leg, his skull...
OH SHIT!
He balked, lingering a moment longer on the line between certain death and statistically almost-certain death. His breath came in rushed bursts, though the planet's air didn't appear to be killing him yet.
Jump, Victim.
He leaned forward, and gravity took over. His insides felt like they were being left behind as he accelerated. The ground rushed forward to meet him. The flag was yanked from his hands as the wind roared in triumph. He felt himself being tugged as the improvised parachute slowed his descent.
Then a cable snapped.
And another.
And another.
The world began to spin, the flag embracing him in a death spiral as it covered his eyes. He fought with it to extend his limbs, to get it off, to do anything that could save him. He managed to uncover his helmet.
Just in time to crash into the branches of a tree.