All it took was a second. A single second, a single lapse of observation and judgement. They were surrounded. No time to set up any mines and the turrets were still repairing themselves. Jonathan had fallen to the Magma Worm leading the ambush before anyone could've reacted. Devoured faster than the muzzle flashes from your companion's rifle, the instant his boot hit the sand he was gone. Shields went up, combat visors down, and it all kicked into high gear. Spewing grenades in the hope you hit something, all you could focus on was Jonathan's torn hat floating through the air. The shining buckle reflected the light of the worm's intense burning inferno, barely visible through the many filters your helmet utilized to keep you from being blinded. You knew you should focus. Focusing kept you alive, should've kept everyone alive; but the suddenness of the death left you scrambled more than you ever thought possible. To think the westerner would go out like that and it was all your fault.
The thunk of something metallic against your shoulder roused you from your daydreaming. Escaping the memories was fruitless, best to accept the painful truth of your failures and move on. Seemed a helmet had fallen from the rack above you. The telltale claw marks across the reflective green glass reminded you that it was yours. You bent over to pick it up before rolling it about in your hands. The weight was comforting. Thumbing over the scratches and battle damage, it seemed like only yesterday that they had approached you for this mission. Only the divine gods above knew how many days you had spent on this vessel at this point on your journey back to hell. The time had finally arrived and it seems you had been gearing up. Looking about, you don't see any of your crewmates. They were probably spending the last of their time working themselves up in the Rec Room. You all had a way of passing the time in the most childish of ways. Arguing over armor, galactic sports teams, combat prowess, and movies were common at night. Well, at any time to be honest. But they were family. Where had they gotten off to?
Another shudder from the ship underneath you reminded you that you were dropping soon. You donned the helmet and noticed the optics inside were cracked. You must've had an accident sometime recently, but the days have all been blending together. Just waiting for the drop, the go-ahead to send yourself back into hell for the second time. All in the name of some rescue mission for people you knew were long dead. No one could survive there. You sometimes doubt you made it off alive. Shrugging that notion off, you give your launchers a once-over. It was usually at this time that they'd be laughing at how obsessive you were with checking your turrets. All fun and games until it saves their asses. Never underestimate the short man completely swaddled in explosives and volatile turrets, ignoring the two grenade launchers on your shoulders. You took pride in keeping your friends and crewmates safe. Or at least you did once. Not so much anymore these days but hopefully you'd be provided a chance to change that. No more deaths, no more losses. No more seconds.
All it took was a second. A single second, a single head turn to a chest buried beneath one of the towering trees about you. You hadn't seen the portal. You don't think anyone did. Surprises were becoming less and less frequent as everyone wisened up to this strange planet, but it seemed you were still too naïve to believe everyone would be prepared. The loss stung, even before it happened. The imp appeared seemingly out of the purple sky around you and managed to nick Larrs behind his towering shield. It was put down by his shotgun, but the damage had been done. You had never seen a man drop that fast before, especially never someone like him. He'd been a titan; an unstoppable force battering the imps and wisps into oblivion. He had kept everyone safe, saved everyone's asses more times than bottles available at the bar back on the ship to repay him. No amount of medkits or bandages could save him though, as the bleeding wouldn't quit through the massive gouge in his shoulder. The slashes traveled further down his chest but no one dared to really assess the damage. Everyone stayed there until his limited time came. There wasn't time for a burial.
He'd died, hadn't he? No one to butt heads with involving ship regulations, no one to then break said regulations with if bribed with a drink or two. No one to offer almost sage-like advice in the wee hours in the morning when you couldn't rest. The oldest of your crewmates, although it never seemed like it, had left everyone far too early in a world where you had needed him most. But now that you let yourself remember, maybe there is a reason why you're alone in the small hangar. There was only one drop pod in front of you, always has been it seemed. You don't remember how long you'd been standing in front of it, you could've sworn you had been sitting down. The light above the hatch suddenly flickered green, illuminating the inside of your visor. You had a job to do. Maybe you knew where your family had gone. It was time to wake up and face the truth. You were rejoining them. They were waiting for the one who got away. You couldn't escape. Every single part of your being screamed to step away from the pod. To toss the helmet aside and run about the ship to look for your friends. Larrs, Barry, Jonathan, Franklin, Rose, Adam, even that damn Janitor bot...
You knew you wouldn't find anyone. Wasting your time when you had a mission, look at you. Shaking your head and throwing back your shoulders, you pry open the hatch and settle in. The consoles light up as soon as you sit down, spouting off dozens of readings you couldn't will yourself to care about. All that mattered was the landing. The landing was always what mattered. You were the one who picked the landing zone, you recall. Maybe it was out of nostalgia, maybe out of the vain hope that this landing would end things, but the beach had called to you. All you could do was complete the mission for the sake of your family. You had failed them once, you must've according to the haze permeating your mind, and now you were going back into the maw of death on arguably a suicide mission in the hope for them to forgive you; or for you to forgive yourself. The hatch slammed shut, the screeching sound of the pod release kicked in, and you found yourself falling. You could immediately see the sharp contrast between the depths of space and the foreign and alien planet you were diving into. As you entered the atmosphere, and the pod rattled relentlessly, you closed your eyes and waited for the impact to take you. Waiting for the minutes to pass into seconds, until the seconds became none.
All it took was a second. A single second, a single misplaced trajectory value in a long line of spontaneous calculations. The barrage of grenades had missed by eight inches right off the bison's flank. You couldn't have predicted it would move that fast. No one could have, you had never seen something like this before. The beasts here continued to become more and more ghastly as the days stretched on. You were surprised. Or maybe you were just too slow. You weren't the only one. Rose, the fastest and most agile member on your team, had been blindsided by the charge. The arrow nocked in her bow fired off prematurely as she was hit, sealing her fate. It was over in an instant, but the fall lasted for what seemed like hours. She and the bison soared off the cliff, disappearing into the white haze of snow far below what your visor could show you. No body to count, no body to bury, and no body to mourn. No seconds left to think, as you and the rest of the group were faced by more of the same creatures that killed her. A rage bubbled up, but it covered the horror you felt. No amount of monsters killed would bring her back or change the fact that you missed.
You awoke to a shudder, the bed vibrating beneath you as a freighter roared past in the distance outside. Everything ached and the sunlight seemed to sear your eyes, but you were home. The weight of the blanket atop you comforted you more than a helmet ever did as you let yourself breathe. You hadn't noticed you were breathing so fast initially but the reaction to calm yourself was purely reflex. You had woken up more times than not like this. It was doubtful that the memories would ever cease to haunt you or that the nightmares would truly leave. It would always find a way to twist your second approach to the planet, a distorted and haunted recollection of what truly happened. The medication did little so your only hope was to take solace in the daylight. It always served as a reminder that your time with that accursed planet had passed and that you were home. Home in a comfortable bed with gaudy blankets you could never have back in the service. They weren't much fans of colorful fleece. The neon colors would've clashed too much with the stark greys and browns all throughout the shuttles and ships you traveled on. Reflecting on your arguably tacky taste was a perfect distraction and you found yourself calming down from the nightmares.
The house was quiet and your bed empty. You don't know where he went off to, since the both of you were on shore leave, but you hoped he'd come back and rejoin you in bed later. The room was lit only from the window, the curtains pulled apart to let in beams of the light. It eerily illuminated the armor stands in the corner of the room. Neither your armor nor his could be stored away in the standard sized crate so you found that setting it up on a stand was much easier. It also made donning it far easier in emergency situations, something that was sadly more common than it should be. You both had utility outside of just combat and the station you were on always was in need of repairs. You, along with him, had survived two trips to the accursed planet and that made you quite popular for jobs. Didn't make waking up to the sight of two figures in the corner any easier though. Pushing your thoughts on necessities aside, you clambered out of bed, found your slippers, and stood in front of your own suit. It was just a few inches taller than you, thanks to the massive boots. Your visage was reflected on the heavily scratched and dented dome you called a helmet. Giving your beard a onceover through the reflection, you realized you haven't spent much time shaving. Hell, you don't think you've spent much time tending to yourself since you got back. Not even a second.
All it took was a second. A single second, a single detonation of a mine deep in the magma shafts you and your crewmates found yourselves in. Everyone thought the ground had been stable, cautious of the lava flowing beneath you and through the walls. You deemed it safe to set up defenses for the portal out. Everyone did. All it took was one crack though in the floor for the heat of what seemed to you to be countless suns to flow out in mass. What went from a simple chink in the armor evolved into an eruption, spewing out magma and volatile rubble everywhere. Franklin had been clocked by one of the larger chunks of debris, his roll falling short as his visor smashed upon the unforgiving pumice beneath him. His suit had been compromised and the lava found him before any of you could. He was overtaken quickly, the screams amplified by the fire seeping into his suit as you and one other were split from the rest of the group. The route had been completely cut off and the final wave was coming They never made it to the portal. They had told you it wasn't your fault and that you and Adam should take the portal and end the fight before it could get any worse. Didn't make much of a difference to you though, the ringing of their desperate shouts in your ears only left days after it all ended.
Shaking yourself free and trying to focus on something, you give a quick glance to the suit next to yours. It easily dwarfed your own unsurprisingly. You were the first to admit you were a short man, it had always been a reoccurring joke amongst the crew of Contact Light. The short but surprisingly efficient engineer with a wrench-throwing temper. In a way, you were proud of the reputation. People knew who you were and they knew you would get things done no matter what. But HE was different, aside from the obvious height difference. No one really knew him well outside of the landing and maintenance crews. Just so happened you were part of both so you saw him much more than most. He was quiet, managed to blend in and slink away despite his size, but he always was invested. It never mattered who was talking, he would always be there listening. If anything, that was his reputation. The reclusive listener. Something about that made you gravitate towards the man. Helped that he was cute too. In a way, the planet had brought the two of you closer together. It brought everyone together. Built a family that you thought could overcome anything. Being wrong hurts, you think.
Gently brushing a hand against the bright blue visor, you think back on how alone you had felt. When you had landed, you at least had some of your crewmates. Not everyone made it off the ship in time and there were only so many landing pods. You had hoped the worst was behind you. But things had turned south quickly, you then lost your entire family in the span of a few days. Mistake after mistake, second after second, someone fell. The damned planet cared little over who it took. Waking up after camping out hoping it was all a nightmare was a common sentiment among the crew, but of you especially. You had been so lost before joining the service. A loudmouth with a penchant for explosives and machines. No family to speak of, no friends. The riffraff of the streets cared not for how you were feeling, but instead what you could provide. Your crewmates were different, they became family. So many nights spent together just...talking, swapping stories and getting to know the individuals underneath the helmets and bulky space suits. They kept you going. None of that changed on the planet. You found yourself clinging to every word, every bonding moment you shared with the crew as they slowly were picked off, one by one. Until there was one left, and in one second it all changed. All it takes is one.
All it took was a second. A single second, a single peering gaze at your well armored and bulky compatriot. It didn't seem to stop at just one, though. One turned to two, two turned to five, until you found yourself watching him in the downtime as the both of you stepped over the countless bodies of the planet's inhabitants that had fallen before you. It would've been dissuaded if the first wasn't returned but you had noticed something: It was mutual. He was oftentimes watching, curious. That was when you started to pick up on things. He was always far more talkative with you than anyone else in the crew even before there were only...the two of you left. He always had your back, although he might've been watching it for more than just safety. He seemed so entranced by all the stories you told, by your larger than life persona. It was adorable. Here he was, this brawler of a man whose fists plowed through just about anything stupid enough to get in his way, and yet he seemed so...affectionate with you. Bumping shoulders more often than not. He stayed close and, in a way, it brought the two of you together. Every night you found each other sitting ever so closer near the fire you'd prepare for that night. It snuck up on you without you noticing until the very end.
The raid on the wreckage of the UES Contact Light was a train wreck of massive proportions. The trauma alone of jogging down the hallways of your former ship, trying your damndest to ignore the bloodied corpses of the coworkers who were unlucky enough to survive the crash only to be picked off by the planet's ruthless inhabitants and mysterious leader, found itself wearing you down faster than you could recover from. You had seen so much up to this point, but things never really settled in on how many people died until you found the destroyed Medbay. What was left of the survivors had held up there. You recognized more faces than you wished you did. Not a single one survived, even the chef robot had pitched in only to be demolished by something far larger than it. You couldn't handle it anymore and sunk to your knees, turning off the com in the vain hope Adam wouldn't hear your sobs. He didn't need to, for no sooner had you fallen to your knees were you picked back up and held close to the man's chest. Resting his helmet against yours, he hugged you for what seemed to be years. In actuality, it was only a handful of seconds before the two of you were interrupted by a Vagrant. Those seconds changed everything though, as they always seem to do. In the end, the two of you faced Providence together, empowered by the countless seconds you had spent with each other and the sacrifices your companions had made along the way.
Once again, you found yourself being held from behind by familiar arms. His beard tickling your ear as he softly woke you out of your trance with a soft brushing against your face, resting his head against the side of yours. You don't know how long you had been standing there, gazing at the two suits, but it had apparently been long enough for him to return. You were glad you didn't notice him coming in. You doubt you could've kept yourself together. Leaning back against him, you offer a hmm as a question as well as to fill the comfortable silence between the two of you. He just tightened his hold and nuzzled your hair. You knew he was waiting for you to say something, to confirm that you're okay so he could scoot you along playfully to the kitchen for dinner. He was always willing and ready to listen; it never really mattered what he had to listen to. He was there and that was all that mattered to the both of you. That and he was probably hungry.
"Hey babe, where did you head off to? Missed having all that warmth in bed." You teased playfully, wiggling against him so he'd loosen up. In return he huffed and spun you around, bringing you face to face with him eliciting a giggle out of the both of you. His eyes make you jump just a bit. The intensity is still surprising, it's all for you.
"Thought you'd appreciate having something to cook with for once. The convenience store here, the one I sometimes haul crates for, gives soldiers discounts. Me especially." He shoots you a warm and knowing smile, knowing damn well that you'd never turn down the opportunity to get your hands on something new to make.
"Aww, I appreciate it. Had a bit of a rough morning although I'm feeling a lot better with you here. Cooking with you seems like the perfect thing to keep my mind busy" You lean up and kiss him softly. Trailing your lips on his and making sure your hands wander just for a second, you pull away teasingly and push off of him. You've got food to cook and you can't spend all of today just brooding in your room.
"You're not getting away that easily, shortie! Finish what you started, ya teasing bastard~" He shouts as he chases you about the house, poorly avoiding the bagged groceries he had left on the floor. The sound of him tumbling about brings a smile to your face and seems to melt away whatever tension you had left in your shoulders. You're feeling much better although you know the pain is just in the back of your mind. It'll never truly go away, but the seconds you get to spend in your new life and with your boyfriend make things so much more tolerable. The planet taught you a lot and in return tore your heart apart...but it left you with someone to help pick up the pieces. Hard to imagine sometimes that the tall new human rug on the floor covered in groceries was said person, but all it takes is a second together for things to change for the better. All it takes is a second. A single second, a single moment with your playful boyfriend, a single grocery wrestling match that turned hotter than the food you cooked later that night, a single night of snuggling with the one you love for things to take a positive turn.