Chapter 09 – Land
The cafeteria buzzed with energy as the crew of the Peregrina gathered around the long metal tables. The aroma of synthesized coffee and freshly prepared nutrient packs filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and lively conversations. It was Sunday, and everyone was celebrating their day off. Though I was still adjusting to feeling part of the group, I found myself easily sliding into the seat next to Gulliver, who was playfully recounting his latest training session.
“...and when I told the instructor he needed to apply more torque, he just looked at me like I was crazy!” Gulliver laughed, slapping his palm on the table. The others joined in the laughter, but it faded when Cirakari entered. Taking Sunday off required Cirakari's formal approval, and until we heard from her, the day’s plans were up in the air.
“Alright, everyone, calm down,” she said, her voice firm and clear. “I have news.”
Everyone leaned in, eager to hear what the rest of the day would be like.
“As I mentioned before, I’ve managed to secure a resupply mission to Vielovento,” she announced, with a hint of pride in her voice.
Tài and I cheered, while Gulliver huffed. “How can you celebrate work on a Sunday?”
“When the alternative is being stuck on a ship with drunks and stoners, a little outing on Sunday doesn’t sound so bad,” Tài justified.
“I’ve been frozen for 150 years to start colonizing Vielovento. I can’t wait to see what the surface is like,” I replied.
“Where are we landing?” Gulliver tried to share in the excitement.
“Zhynka, in Sucron,” Cirakari replied, sitting down with us and starting her meal.
“Lucky you, Fred,” Tài continued. “It’s right in the twilight zone, pleasant climate, well-developed and cosmopolitan city.”
“As if you’ll be able to see any of those things, right?” Gulliver said, waving his fork dismissively. “We will be working, not visiting.”
“Why do we need to land a military ship for a resupply run after all?” I asked.
“We have shuttles and haulers to do the heavy lifting. But we can use the lower deck to carry munitions and other dense materials. It is not efficient at all, but we are in need to get the Broodmother ready as soon as possible” Cirakari explained.
“This is like using a battle tank as a supply truck” I mocked.
Cirakari cleared her throat, cutting through the jovial atmosphere. “Before we make our departure, we have work to do. We need to prepare the Peregrina for atmospheric flight. This means we need to place thermal blankets on the exposed tanks, retract the LANTR engine assembly, and store the radiator panels. Since this can only be done from the outside, get ready to spend a good few hours in a vacuum suit.”
Despite the light mood, two things were still bothering me. “Do you know anything about Alice and Dr. Xuefeng?”
“They’ve been released. Dr. Xuefeng is preparing to leave on the next shuttle. Alice is also likely getting ready to depart, as the Virgo is refueling with the last of Broodmother’s hydrogen,” Cirakari explained.
I got up from the table, leaving my plate half-finished. “I’m going to say goodbye to them.”
“Remember what I told you, Fred,” Cirakari said, raising her index finger like a tutor training a dog.
“It’s true, Fred. It’s easier not to get attached to crews from other ships,” Tài added. “Especially after all this sabotage mess.”
“You’re right. I just want to say goodbye,” I agreed. “Do you know their dorm addresses?”
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The first person I looked for was Dr. Xuefeng. I searched the first dormitory, workshop, storeroom, reading room, and every corner I could think of. Unsuccessful, I decided to visit Alice next.
Navigating through the corridors of the Peregrina, I changed my speech at every turn. I had gone through more revisions and rehearsals of the dialogue than I could count.
I reached her door, hesitating for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I knocked. After a brief second, the door slid open, and there was Alice, looking as radiant as ever.
“Fred,” she said, seemingly surprised by my visit. “What brings you here?”
“I wanted to talk,” I said. “May I come in?”
“Uh,” she hesitated, shrugging. “Yes, of course.”
Her quarters were, unsurprisingly, almost identical to mine. The small space was cluttered with equipment, personal items, and tools, yet it was cozy.
“About what?” she asked, crossing her arms, a hint of suspicion in her tone.
“About everything,” I began, already veering off the script I’d created seconds ago. “This little uncommitted flirting game of ours and the mess I got you into with this whole sabotage story.”
Alice’s brow furrowed, and she let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, Fred. Talking to a guy from the past had its charm at first,” she admitted, blushing slightly. “But we’re in a military environment, we can’t act like teenagers.”
“You thought I was charming?” I said with a mischievous smile, trying to make a joke.
“Yeah, why else would I be flirting with you?”
“Sorry, you’re right. The reason I came here is to say goodbye.”
She looked away for a moment, puffing her cheeks as if she were about to burst. “Damn it, Fred,” she finally said. “It’s not safe for us to be close right now.”
“Exactly,” I said softly. “Look, we’ve only known each other for a few days. I’m still trying to figure out what my life will be like from now on. And to add to that, there’s this whole thing with the Overseers,” I said, moving a bit closer. “When this all blows over, let’s start over, the right way. What do you think?”
She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. The kiss was gentle, hesitant, a fragile mix of confusion and longing as if, for just a moment, we could forget the world outside. Time held its breath, letting everything else—war, chaos, uncertainty—fade into silence. A part of me wished it could last forever. But just as quickly, reality hit back. She pulled away from me, both of us blushing and awkward. “It’s a good idea…”
I pulled her back to me, this time the kiss was the opposite of the first. Warm, long, and intense. “I wish I’d met you under better circumstances,” I said, regret in my voice.
“I know,” she interrupted, stepping back as if the distance could somehow protect us from what we’d just shared.
“Right,” I replied. “Let’s just... keep our focus on the mission from now on.”
She nodded. “We should get back to work. The crew will be waiting for us.”
“Yes, of course.”
We exchanged one last look, a shared understanding that this moment would remain just ours. With a heavy heart, I turned and left her quarters, knowing this fragile connection would have to remain unspoken.
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Back at the Broodmother’s anchorage, the crew was already immersed in preparing the Peregrina for landing. Cirakari directed operations with the sharp efficiency of a commander who had done this a thousand times before.
“Fred, you’re late,” she said, leaving no room for excuses. “You and Gulliver will be responsible for the thermal blankets.”
“Sure!” I replied, hurrying to the suit storage area.
“So, did you find Dr. Xuefeng and Alice?” Gulliver asked as he helped me with the suit’s seals.
“I didn’t find Dr. Xuefeng. I’ve turned this ship upside-down.”
“And Alice?” His grin was visible even as he sealed his face behind the helmet.
I secured my own helmet, continuing the conversation through the radio. “Yes, I did find her. I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Great,” Cirakari’s voice cut in, making me jump inside my suit. “Because you are on an open channel and I’m expecting you to focus on your job.”
“Sorry commander,” I replied.
We stepped out into the void, methodically anchoring lifelines from ring to ring until we reached the Peregrina’s tanks. Together, we worked to secure the thermal blankets over the exposed fuel tanks. The Peregrina’s armor could handle reentry with subsurface cooling, but the tanks needed reflective layers to keep the cryogenic contents stable. The catch was that this reflective surface would melt faster than ice in a furnace during atmospheric reentry. That’s where the blankets came in—designed as ablative shielding, they would sacrifice themselves layer by layer, carrying away the deadly heat.
“Make sure to double-check those straps,” Gulliver instructed.
“I got it,” I replied through the radio. The thick gloves were definitely a pain in the ass, but at least it was much better than the monstrosity I was used to back in the GIX. I knew this procedure from countless hours studying the Virgo’s manuals, but this was my first time putting theory into practice. “Done,” I announced finally.
“I’m done as well,” Gulliver echoed.
“Nice work guys,” Cirakari’s voice carried approval. “Fred, I need you to dismantle the laser reflector turrets. Gulliver, help me retract the LANTR engine cluster.”
Despite my expertise with engines making me the most qualified for that task, retracting the engines was mostly about pressing buttons and watching actuators do their thing. My assignment, however, was a different story. Loosening bolts, dismantling complex components, handling extremely sensitive fiberglass and mirrors—all while having to watch for floating nuts in zero-g. The job took longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually, both turrets were safely disassembled and stored.
“Well done, Fred!” Cirakari’s praise crackled through the radio.
“Can I ask for a raise now?” I joked, flexing my tired fingers.
“Maybe if you manage to finish the job before I turn into a grandma next time,” Cirakari shot back.
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With preparations complete, we assembled in the Peregrina’s control deck. Cirakari took her position at the helm. “Broodmother, this is Commander Cirakari from the Peregrina. I’ll be handling the ship and therefore I’m entitling First Lieutenant Gulliver to speak on the Peregrina’s behalf, do you acknowledge?”
“Acknowledged, Peregrina,” the Broodmother’s operator replied.
“We are ready to initiate undocking procedures. Requesting confirmation of authorization for separation,” Gulliver communicated as Cirakari’s hands moved over the maneuver controls.
“Understood. Authorization granted. Confirm manual disengagement mode is activated.”
“Confirmed. Manual disengagement mode activated. We will initiate lateral thrusters for controlled distancing to minimum safe distance,” Gulliver replied.
“Copied, Peregrina. Move to 250 meters, then proceed with deorbit burn at your discretion. Atmospheric entry window for Zhynka’s landing pad opens in 22 minutes. Gravitational assist vectors will be sent in 5 seconds.”
“Trajectory data received. Executing final vector alignment checks. Peregrina’s navigation and orientation systems are all green,” Tài confirmed.
“Heat exchangers prepared and nominal pressure. Radiators ready for retraction sequence,” I reported, fighting the knot in my throat and wiping my sweaty palms on my suit. I’d performed de-orbital flights before, but never in a military-grade armored brick powered by bomb-grade uranium for engines.
“Confirming lateral separation in progress. Separation speed maintained at one-tenth meters per second,” Cirakari announced.
“Separation at one-tenth meters per second confirmed. Maintain clear lateral thrusters until reaching 150 meters.”
“Copied, Broodmother. Moving to 150 meters, speed maintained,” Gulliver acknowledged.
“Tài, confirm portside frontal thruster vector is stable?” Cirakari requested.
“Confirmed. Thrust is stable, monitoring residual vibrations,” Tài responded.
“Separation verification at 150 meters... complete separation. Reorienting for deorbit trajectory,” Cirakari reported.
“Separation at 150 meters confirmed, good separation, Peregrina. Safe travels, and we’ll see you soon,” Broodmother control concluded.
“Thank you, Broodmother. Initiating rotation for deorbit burn alignment,” Cirakari replied.
“Broodmother clear, systems green. Aligned with Zhynka entry vector, confirming angle at -5.3 degrees,” Tài reported, his voice steady despite the mounting tension.
“Executing deorbit burn in 5... 4... 3... 2... ignition,” Cirakari counted down.
The ship shuddered as the engines roared to life. “Main engine at eighty-five percent power. Heat levels within expected range, thermal shields stable,” I reported, frantically darting between the cooling system monitors.
“Altitude at 210 kilometers,” Cirakari announced, her voice cutting through the engine’s rumble.
“Velocity vector confirmed, 2.1 kilometers per second and decreasing,” Tài said.
“Burn complete,” Cirakari confirmed.
A knot formed on my throat as an alert flashed across my screen. “Commander, there was an anomaly on the heat-sink,” I reported, trying to keep my voice steady. “Its efficiency is three percent lower than expected.”
“Can we continue? It’s your call Fred,” Cirakari said.
“In normal conditions, this shouldn’t be a problem,” I tried to reason. “But with the recent sabotage on the Virgo, could this also be a sabotage attempt?” The go-nogo window was closing fast—there was no time for debate. “Yes, we can continue.”
The external cameras displayed a mesmerizing, almost deadly layer of plasma wrapping around the ship as we plunged into the atmosphere. Less mesmerizing were the temperature gauges climbing at an alarming rate as the heat-sink’s efficiency continued to deteriorate.
“Commander, we may have to use active cooling,” I announced, already fiddling with the emergency controls. “The issue with the heat-sink is becoming a real problem.”
“Proceed, Fred.”
I activated the emergency protocols, and the external surfaces began weeping coolant fluid like a metal giant sweating in a furnace. We were losing all our fluids, yes, but the droplets would create a buffer separation layer between the ship’s surface and the plasma, turning to steam and carrying away the deadly heat.
“Ionization layer detected. Surface control communications may drop soon,” Tài warned.
“Understood. Everyone in position, prepare for peak G-forces,” Cirakari instructed.
The ship’s vibrations intensified, rattling every bolt and panel around us. Through the external cameras, we could see the hull glowing cherry-red as rivers of plasma carved their way around our reinforced shields.
“Hull temperature at 1350 degrees Celsius. Remaining within limits,” I reported, darting between multiple sensor displays. “G-force currently at 3.1 and rising.” The force pushed us deeper into our seats, making every movement feel like lifting weights.
“Speed reducing—3.8 kilometers per second,” Tài announced.
As we pushed through the atmosphere’s denser layers, the ship groaned and shuddered like a living thing. “Thermal load is decreasing. We’re out of the critical layer,” I informed, relief flooding through me as the readings began to stabilize. The violent vibrations gradually subsided to a more manageable rumble, though the constant force of deceleration still pressed us firmly into our seats.
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“Altitude at 12 kilometers. Approaching final descent,” Tài announced, his fingers moving across his console with renewed confidence.
“Activating landing thrusters... now,” Cirakari declared. “Switching from main engines to vertical descent profile.”
The Peregrina’s fission thrusters came to life with a controlled roar, providing the final kick to our landing burn. The timing had to be perfect—we needed to activate the LANTR engines at the last possible moment to ensure their radioactive plume would be safely contained by the radiation bunker beneath the landing pad.
“Landing hooks deployed, tower is “go” for catch. Power flow nominal,” Tài informed.
With a grace that belied its massive bulk, the Peregrina settled onto the tower. The hooks were grabbed by the tower as a giant hug with a satisfying thud. For a moment, nobody spoke. We sat in our seats, the weight of planetary gravity settling over us like a heavy blanket.
Through the camera feeds, I could see the first hints of Zhynka’s skyline in the distance, a testament to humanity’s determination to build a home among the stars. The eternal twilight of Vielovento’s terminator zone painted everything in perpetual sunset colors, creating an alien yet somehow familiar landscape. After 150 years of frozen sleep, I had finally arrived at my destination—though in a way I never could have imagined.