Disclaimer: I don't own Armageddon or any of the characters from the movie. The only thing I own is Charlie.

Bit of a language warning on this one. I dropped another f-bomb.


Charlotte quickly stood from her seat and moved to stand behind Max, placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder as the big man fought to get out of his own restraints.

"We got eight hours." Her eyes flew up to Harry as he looked around at them all, his body-language giving away how tumultuous his emotions really were. "Let's get this job done and go home."

There was an unspoken agreement at that moment amongst those that were left.

They were going to put everything aside—their anger and their grief—and do whatever they needed to do to get themselves home. If there had been any remaining tolerance for that mission after everything they'd already been through, it was at that moment that it evaporated. They'd lost four people they cared about, four of them, and doing anything else but successfully kicking that asteroid's ass was unacceptable.

If they failed? Then all those on board Independence had died for nothing.

As Charlotte busied herself with opening the floor hatch that led into the lower cargo bay where the Armadillo was stored, Harry said, "Alright, let's get the tools unpacked and fire up the Armadillo."

She nodded at him. "Hopefully it wasn't damaged."

"We're not getting a damn thing on the inertial NAV system—"

Rockhound was studying a nearby panel carefully, his eyes set. "I know where we are."

"Please step away." Sharp unceremoniously pushed him out of the way and leaned down, bracing his hands on the console. "Radio signal is dead."

Watts went storming by, a clipboard in her hands. "I'm flipping the backup generator. Radio signal's gonna be cut in half until we get main power back."

And then she was gone, disappearing through a doorway that Charlotte knew led to the main electrical panels.

She worked on securing the hatch as Rockhound, who had grabbed a stack of thermal photos, set them down with authority on a back-lit table just to Charlotte's left. "We're in segment 202, lateral grid 9, site 15H-32, give or take a few yards." He motioned towards Sharp somewhat bitingly. "Captain America here blew the landing by twenty-six miles."

Her eyes went to Sharp, who hung his head for a moment before turning around to face them all. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Because I'm a genius."

Rockhound's response was so pointed and so full of 'well duh' that Charlotte might've laughed if they'd been anywhere else doing anything else.

Watts appeared suddenly in the doorway. "The gauges will not read. They're all peaked like we're plugged into some sort of magnetic field."

"Well who on this spaceship wants to know why?"

"By all means."

"The reason we were shooting for grid 8 was because thermographics indicated that grid 9 was compressed iron ferrite."

There was a beat of silence and she was sure she was the only one who spotted the flash of uncertainty pass across Sharp's stern face.

There wasn't much when it came to the sciences, regardless of branch, that Rockhound didn't excel at. An ex-Princeton professor with a double-doctorate in chemistry and geology, the man truly was a genius. His level of knowledge was sometimes overwhelming and always slightly terrifying and that moment was no different.

Having studied the thermographics herself over the course of those two weeks, she knew immediately that he wasn't just posturing. He was right.

And when he drove the point home a second later with, "Which means you landed us on a goddamn iron plate," a collective shudder passed through the entire group.

She felt someone's eyes on her and it took her less than a second to realize whose they were. Sharp was staring at her, openly, in front of the entire crew; but it wasn't a look of affection or fondness. It was a commander—who appeared to have made the biggest mistake he could ever possibly make—looking to someone he trusted, asking that someone for some sort of reassurance.

And in that moment, she didn't know what to say.

She didn't believe in her heart that he'd made a mistake. Labeling it as a mistake implied error on his part—some sort of pilot or human error that placed their somewhat distressing situation solely at his feet. He'd been fighting the shuttle, the asteroid, the loss of the Independence…all the while trying to get them to their landing site, any landing site, in one piece. He'd saved their lives, plain and simple.

The crew of the Freedom owed him their lives, and if they were successful, the rest of the world would owe him, too.

No mistake. Just bad luck and overwhelming odds.

But the thermographics didn't lie…and she couldn't lie to him.

"He's right. I've been studying the thermographics all week with Oscar—" Her voice caught slightly on her friend's name and she paused for a second, swallowing hard. "They ran tests our entire second week and we still don't know whether or not the ferrite will eat away at the bits, so they chose grids 5 and 8 to be safe."

Chick frowned. "Why two grids?"

"Two landing sites. One for us, one for Independence."

A heaviness fell over them for a moment before Sharp, who she could tell was trying to shake off their current condition as best as he could, put on a somewhat brave face. "Alright. Well, you heard them. Let's wheel out the remote satellite link. We need that radio."

The second the words were out of his mouth the whole lot of them started moving with what appeared to be a renewed purpose. Charlotte slowly rose to her feet and she was about to follow Harry and Max into the nearest cargo bay when a strong set of fingers wrapped themselves around her forearm.

Sharp shook his head at her, indicating that he wanted to wait to speak until everyone else was out of earshot.

Chick was the last to cross the doorstep into the cargo bay where she knew they were busy unpacking the rig and Sharp leaned close to her, speaking quietly. "I'm sorry about the Independence. Frost and Choi especially, I know how much they all meant to you."

She didn't trust her voice not falter, so she said nothing.

"Tell me the truth, did I fuck this up?"

She stared hard at him, her eyes set. "You didn't do anything, it was an accident." He pulled away from her and shook his head, as if he was going to argue, and she spoke over him. "Will, it was an accident. You think we all don't know that you wouldn't have landed here if you'd had the choice?"

"Are you going to be able to drill through this?"

She wanted to tell him that they would, that Harry wouldn't let them fail. She wanted to tell him to have faith in their rig, in them, that their landing site wouldn't matter.

But the geologist and the driller inside her knew that she couldn't say those things and be one-hundred percent truthful.

So she settled for what she thought.

"We won't know until we get out there and start. Focus on what needs to be done to get us home and we'll deal with the rest for now, ok?"

Aware that it was completely inappropriate and that the timing couldn't be worse—but not caring in the slightest—she reached up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning and heading towards the cargo bay.


"Houston, do you read? This is Freedom."

Watts' voice echoed throughout the cargo bay as they all put on their helmets, the drilling equipment and Armadillo already sitting on the large ramp that would lower them down from the belly of the shuttle to the surface of the asteroid.

Max was sitting comfortably in the Armadillo…Rockhound, Sharp, and Gruber were behind her…Harry was on her right, Chick was on her left.

Sharp's voice came through their earpieces. "Is everyone ready to go?"

Harry nodded beside her. "We're ready. Lower the ramp."

There was a loud mechanical whirring sound as the ramp activated, lowering the group of them out of the relative protection of the shuttle and out into the open.

And as their new environment slowly came into view through their thick visors, Charlotte couldn't help but widen her eyes.

During their training, Oscar had once asked what the asteroid would be like if they somehow managed to land. Truman's response had been one of assorted horrors—extreme temperatures and razor sharp rock amongst the most memorable of them—and Oscar had simply referred to it as the scariest environment imaginable.

And as she stood there seeing it all for the first time with her own eyes, she knew that Oscar's prediction had been correct.

"Down here! In the valley!" Harry waved them all over, pointing to an area of rock only a short distance away from the shuttle. The ground was relatively smooth and considering the rest of their immediate surroundings were completely impassible it was the safest and most reasonable place to start drilling.

They followed him down a small hill and Charlotte turned to wave a hand at Max. He returned the gesture, showing that he had seen and was following her direction. "Careful, Max. That hill might give way under the weight."

"We aiming for the middle, Harry?"

"We're aiming for wherever you have the most space. Remember, we gotta store all the pipes and extra bits somewhere nearby."

As Max maneuvered the Armadillo into position, Rockhound was wandering a short distance away with a gauge in his hands. It was a device that Charlotte was familiar with; a heavy reader with various indicator lights, as well as a large metal stake that when pushed into the ground would determine exactly what a particular sample of soil or rock was made up of. It would then light up the appropriate lights. It helped lead to more accurate results for geologists and better drilling locations for drillers.

At that moment, Rockhound was filling both roles. "This place is like Dr. Seuss' worst nightmare."

Charlotte focused her attention back on the task at hand as Max slowly and carefully brought the Armadillo through, Chick now directing him. "To the left! Bring it to the left!"

"Rockhound, you come on down here and take some readings down in the flat spot."

Rockhound moseyed his way down into the valley and stuck the stake down into the surface, waiting for the indicator lights. "Iron ferrite."

Charlotte, who was carrying a miniature pickax, knelt down carefully on one knee and ran her gloved ringers over a nearby rock. She took a few quick swings with the axe and watched as the rock blew apart, reacting in a way she'd never seen before. But the more she thought about it the more sense it made. This was, after all, space rock; a sample that had come from who-knew where and had traveled through space for who-knew how long.

There was definitely iron but it wasn't Earth iron, it was something else.

"Mostly iron, Rockhound."

Harry's voice rang out from somewhere just behind her and she nodded her head. "Yeah, over here, too."

"God, I hate knowing everything." Rockhound sounded genuinely unhappy. "We couldn't have picked a worse spot to drill."

"Well, I can pretty much guarantee it's not gonna be thicker than fifty feet."

"How do you figure that?"

Harry's visor was fogging up slightly with his breath. " 'Cause if it is, we're screwed."

Knowing what the answer would be before she even asked the question, Charlotte decided to take the plunge and ask anyway. "Hey, Rock? Would it help if we moved to a different spot? Maybe there's another…valley or something near here."

"Charlie, you saw the photos—the entire grid is gonna be like this and we don't have the time to walk to another one."

"Yeah…yeah, I know." She sighed. "Just trying to look for a bright spot, that's all."

"We're on an asteroid in outer space, kiddo. Pretty sure the only bright spot we got is you."

The suit prevented her from looking over her shoulder so Charlotte had to turn her entire upper body to look over towards Chick, sending him a small and thankful smile.

There was a loud boom as Max fired charges into the ground in preparation for drilling and Charlotte started making her way back towards the Armadillo, listening as Harry asked, "Max, you good?"

"Yeah, just making hole."

"Turn it around!"

"Friggin' outer space."

She moved to stand between Harry and Rockhound as the massive drill arm slowly lowered towards the surface, sparks flying the second the drill bit made contact. She was used to noise, the high-pitched screaming as they broke ground; but the noise that reached her ears at that moment, while a welcome sound indicating that they'd finally gotten started, sounded anything but normal.

"Alright, we're in. Bring another light." Harry watched the spinning drill head closely. "We're cuttin' through pretty good."

"Alright, let's punch it down!" The drill arm shook suddenly and there was a loud scraping noise as metal grinded against metal. It set her teeth on edge. "Hey, Harry, did you see that?"

"Yeah, Max, I see it. What is it?"

"We lost the bite off the bit!"

"Alright, back it off—" Max gestured wildly inside the cabin of the Armadillo and Charlotte let out breath, watching as Harry took a step closer to the still shaking drill arm. "Sounds like we twisted a shank. Back it outta there, Max."

As the arm slowly raised up out of the hole, Charlotte, Rockhound, Chick, and Harry all stood around it…staring down at the eaten away metal with varying degrees of disbelief on their faces.

"Wow. This is a goddamn Greek tragedy."

"We've all seen broken drill heads before."

Chick looked up, his eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. "Not after ten feet."

"I dunno, Harry." Charlotte rested her gloved hand on the still smoking drill head. "Looks like we're gonna need something with a little more kick."

Chick nodded, a small smirk on his face. "What do you want?"

And in a voice that Charlotte recognized far too well—full of determination and grit—Harry said, "Unpack the Judge."


Sharp let out a long breath and pulled off his helmet, instantly feeling better as the cool air of the cargo bay blew across his tired and sweaty face.

The drilling had begun…Watts was still fighting with their fried radio and video feeds…and he and Gruber had their work cut out for them trying to set up the satellite. Each and every one of them was busy and he was thankful for the few precious seconds he had to himself as he crossed the bay, setting his helmet down on a nearby workbench.

The battery that had been loaded into the satellite receiver before it had been packed on board the shuttle was dead and Sharp now had the joyous task of tracking down a spare. He didn't know where they had ended up in the chaos prior to the launch but knew that they were somewhere in bay two, knowing for a fact that Charlotte had catalogued everything in bay one and the spare batteries hadn't been on her list.

Gruber's voice came through his earpiece. "Colonel, I can't get the signal to line up."

"Hook the receiver up with the antenna and wait until it lines up, it might take a while."

"That's what I'm saying; the receiver and the antenna are already hooked up but it won't keep the connection long enough for a full download."

"Goddammit." Sharp pulled off a glove and ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. "Keep working. I'll find the battery and be out as soon as I can."

He tried to think of the most logical place the batteries would be and started his search, trying not to think about just how many crates he'd have to go through.

To say that he was low on patience would be an understatement.

He'd never once expected that their mission would be easy, he wasn't nearly that naïve. He knew going in that it would be difficult and would test him in ways he never thought possible, and on some level, he was ok with that. He thrived on opportunities to push his own limits and see how far he could go—he supposed most pilots were like that in one way or another. Always striving for greater speeds, greater heights, and longer distances.

He remembered well General Kelso's final words to him just seconds before he'd boarded the bus to leave for Kennedy.

At some point during this mission, you'll find out exactly what it is you're made of.

He only hoped whatever he was made of would be up to the task.

The loss of the Independence had made him feel unsure of himself for the first time since he'd gotten the call nearly two weeks before. Will Sharp was a confident man; confident in his abilities and his aptitude for keeping things together, but he'd be lying if he said that the loss of Davis and Tucker, hell all of them, wasn't weighing heavily on his heart.

It felt like only yesterday that Davis had stopped by his room and had smiled like a proud father when he'd described the upcoming fourteenth birthday of his son.

Brian and Bernadette Davis had most likely heard the news already, that their father and husband wasn't coming home, and while Sharp knew that there was absolutely nothing he could've done to prevent what had happened to the other shuttle, he couldn't help but feel responsible. He was the most senior officer on the mission—having a little more than two years' experience on Davis—and it had been his responsibility. They were all his responsibility, even if they didn't know it.

"Sharp! I'm getting something!"

Watts' voice rang out and he was moving before he was even aware of it.

He crossed back into the main cabin just as Watts was sending Houston the coordinates of their current position and he took the radio-phone from her hand forcefully, looking into the camera as he spoke. "We're also having electric and antenna difficulties. But we have commenced drilling. Shuttle flight capability not yet known." There was a sudden patch of static. "Houston? Houston—" He handed the phone back to Watts, trying to reign in his frustration. "We lost 'em. Get them back." And he turned on his heel, adjusting his earpiece as he said, "Gruber, we need that hookup."


It was a few minutes before midnight when the phone in their hotel room rang, loud enough to rouse her from a restless sleep. She heard her husband answer in the next room and she jumped out of bed, emerging into the bright light of their small sitting area.

Adam was sitting in the overstuffed armchair, his eyes having been set on the TV.

"Yes, she's here." Brian looked up at her and held the phone out. "It's for you, someone from NASA—"

Julia crossed the room in three quick strides and took the phone, pressing it to her ear. "This is Julia Mercer."

"Mrs. Mercer, this is Chris Watney. Assistant to NASA's Executive Director."

"Is my brother alright? I saw the news earlier about the crash but they didn't say anything—"

"Colonel Sharp is alright, Mrs. Mercer. He landed his shuttle safely and established communication with us about two hours ago."

The relief she felt was so strong that she had to reach a hand out and steady herself on the back of Adam's armchair. Her son turned around quickly to look at her with eyes full of concern but she sent him a small smile, as if to say I'm ok. "Thank god."

"Obviously I can't go into details about what exactly is happening right now, but the Director has asked that we contact the families of crew members to update them."

"Mr. Watney—" She swallowed hard. "I'll understand if you can't tell me anything but I have to ask, seeing as how he and my brother are friends. Colonel Davis? Timothy Davis. Did he—"

"Mrs. Mercer, I'm sorry. I'm not at liberty to discuss other crew members."

"I understand, I do, but please. He's a friend, I know his wife. I just want to know if he's alright."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line and Julia had a feeling that he was considering answering her.

She wanted to reassure him that she could be trusted, that she wasn't going to use the information for any purpose other than to know if a good man was alive. But she knew from past experiences with NASA that the more a person spoke, the more likely it was that any information they were given would be the bare minimum.

And for Julia Sharp-Mercer, the bare minimum wasn't nearly good enough.

Watney sighed and spoke very slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Colonel Davis was killed, his shuttle crashed on approach to the asteroid. There were no survivors."

Her stomach dropped slightly. "And Charlotte Scofield? She's a…consultant of some sort, I think."

"Ms. Scofield was on the shuttle with Colonel Sharp. She's alive. Mrs. Mercer, please understand that what I've told you tonight is need-to-know only. While the world knows that one of the shuttles crashed, official news hasn't been released as of yet, pending notification of next of kin for all those on board. I'm asking for and expecting your discretion."

"Yes, of course."

"Director Truman understands that these circumstances are unprecedented and wants to keep family members informed. All we ask for is your cooperation."

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "You have it."

"We'll contact you again in another couple of hours, once we have more information to share."

His tone of voice indicated that the conversation had come to an end and she made eye contact with her husband as she said, "Ok, thank you, Mr. Watney." Once the line went dead, she hit the end button and tossed the cordless down onto the sofa. "Will's alive, Charlotte too." She paused for a moment. "Tim Davis is dead."

"So the news was right about the crash."

"I can't even imagine what Bernadette is going through, I wish I could call her."

"You've done all you can do for right now. Come on—" He patted the empty space on the sofa beside him. "Sit down. Did you even sleep?"

Before Julia could open her mouth to respond there was a loud and somewhat panicked sounding knock on the door. The two adults stared at each other before she crossed the room, pulling the door open slowly. She couldn't stop the truly stunned expression that took over her face at the sight of the beautiful blonde standing there in the hallway.

"Melanie?"

Her ex-sister in law dropped her duffel bag to the floor with a loud thud and pulled Julia into a hug, breathing heavily into her shoulder. "Oh, Julia, thank god. I saw your car out front and practically had to bribe the guards at the front desk to get your room number."

"Melanie, what are you doing here?"

"I was watching the news and just couldn't stand it anymore." They mutually pulled apart and Melanie took a deep breath, sending a quick wave to Brian and Adam. "What have you heard? Is he alright?"

"He's alive, they landed a couple of hours ago. Where are the girls?"

"I left them with my parents. I didn't think they could handle the drive and I'd rather them swimming and baking cookies than seeing all of this." She hesitated for a second, speaking in a softer voice. "And I didn't think Will would want them here…with everything going on."

Julia thought on that for a second before snapping back to reality, pulling the door open all the way and waving Melanie inside. "Come in, you must be exhausted." Melanie bent to pick up her bag and Julia used the opportunity to send her husband a covert glance over the other woman's shoulder.

The tone of Will's divorce had never been a secret and there was a certain awkwardness in the air as Melanie set herself down on the arm of the couch.

After a second of silence, she looked back to Julia with an expectant expression on her face. "So, what's been going on?"


"Guys, the clock is tickin'! Let's go, go, go, go, go!"

Charlotte, along with Chick and Harry, used all their combined strength to tighten the new drill head on the Armadillo's arm, the heavy metal biting at her fingers through the material of her gloves.

"Alright, Chick. Give me a little more torque on the turbine, huh?"

The drill started whining as Chick pushed forward the appropriate lever, Charlotte standing beside him and locking it into place. "All good, Chick?"

He nodded, glancing over at her. "Lookin' good, just keep it steady there."

"Max, I need some more power down here! Throw it in fourth and drop the hammer!"

Even from where she was standing, she could see the grin that spread across Max's face at their boss' words. "Let's drill through this turd."

"Come on, boys and girls. We gotta hop! We're fallin' behind."

There was a loud and sudden whine from the drill and Charlotte and Chick looked at each other just as Max called out to them. "Hey guys, the tranny's stuck." The whine got louder and the entire drill arm was shaking. "Chick! Come on, help! Release the clutch!"

Charlotte watched as Chick moved quickly towards the control levers, grabbing hold of the clutch and trying his hardest to wrench it back. She could see that his arm was shaking with the effort and as she moved to help him, he spoke in a rough voice. "Ok. Well this thing's not movin'."

Sparks were flying from the tranny and Charlotte was maybe two feet away from reaching Chick's right side when it blew, the force of the explosion throwing both her and Chick off their feet.

There was a flash of panic as she flew through the air and she was unable to hold in a groan when her back slammed into the ground a dozen or so feet from where she'd been. She felt a sharp pain course through her shoulder blades and fought to remain still, fought to keep her breathing even.

"This is not workin' out, Harry."

And as if called into existence by Max's words, Harry appeared beside her, kneeling down and placing a hand palm-down on her shoulder. "You alright?"

"Its my back. I just…need a minute." She looked up at him. "Transmission?"

The look on his face said it all and she moved to sit up, feeling Harry's hands on her shoulders as he helped her into a sitting position. "Come on, god—" He muttered quietly. "Just a little help. That's all I'm askin'."

And it was Max that answered, saying, "I think we're close enough, he might've heard you."

END