1.3c on surface
Atmosphere nominal.
Atmosphere suitable for breathing.
Atmospheric contamination with life high.
Water scan 86.5% success within 1sl.
Survival state psyche traumatized.
Survival state health nominal.
Survival state physically nominal.
Survival state social abnormal.
Hostifle fauna scan nominal.
Hostile flora scan negative preliminary.
Switched survival profile to standard.
Energy scan 13.5% success within 1sl.
Energy scan 51.3% success within 100sl.
Initiate trauma recovery routine.
Updated target dashboard
12144 AIG 9H1, 0V 0H0
Remaining energy: 343cy
Remaining food: 60.1cy
Emergency shelter position: non-ideal
Emotional limiters applied.
It is strangely quiet. A purple shine reaches through my lids and onto
the optical receptors. I slightly open my lids. I am in a coffin with a
small window next to my head. Outside is a blue sky and purple flora. I
have never seen so much purple. Everything is blurry and moves slowly. I
have been in this coffin before. Pluto took care that I faint at least
once in one of these under high acceleration. I know how it feels to
awake from that. Still, I feel numb. The sedatives are still working.
This coffin brought me back to live.
“*Welcome to VRT3142. We have touched surface 14.3c ago. No hostile
flora or fauna detected so far. The surroundings, atmosphere, and
radiation is suitable for Marduk. I advise you to keep a breathing kit
on at all times and stay close to any of my drones.*”
I groan. My body feels like someone beat me all over with a flat paw. It
slowly dawns on me, where I am.
And that everyone else is dead.
“Dade, what is our general situation?”
“*I assess our situation to be a default rescue operation, with a slight
delay. So far we have no hyperspace connection. I expect a connection
soon, though. Everything is suitable to go ahead with the default rescue
preparations.*”
“That means we find a suitable shelter first.”
“*Correct. My shuttle is equipped with everything to keep you alive for
ten standard cycles, enough to find a suitable shelter or go into
emergency coma. We need a suitable shelter position, food, and energy
source. VRT3142 shows sufficient resources.*”
I start to shift in place, looking for the breathing kit. It is placed
right next to the opening mechanism for the shuttle exit door. My
entrance on the Gudea was sealed as soon as I was inside the shuttle.
The exit is sealed as well, but more suitable for me to get out of the
shuttle. As soon as it is open, the shuttle will not be airtight any
more. It is just a second class shuttle. It is nothing like the
equipment we had on the *Apollon*. Nevertheless, I am alive and safe for
now. On a planet like this some big carnivore will come checking me out
sooner or later.
The shuttle is not big, a cylindrical capsule of two body lengths in
diameter. Packed in there are a nuclear energy generator, emergency tent
and ratios, 3D printers for longer emergency situations and all sorts of
trinkets and devices.
“What are the chances of finding energy sources?” Energy is the critical
issue in 90% of the emergency situations. We can make food and fuel from
dirt and dung, but need power for that.
“*Chances are good. I chose the equatorial continent because it showed
the best combination and variety of biomes suitable for survival. There
are multiple sources of high radiation within reach of our first tier
rovers.*”
I strap on the breathing kit.
“*Prepare for door opening. Expect a change in temperature of about 5
degree.*”
My coffin opens and light floods my optical receptors. The gravity is
acceptable, a little more than usual. It takes a few claps before I can
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
get out of the seat, arranging my legs feels difficult right now. I
basically fall out of the shuttle. The emergency tether lets me slowly
to my knees.
“Thanks Dade.”
“*Always happy to help. The sedatives will keep working for the next
500c. Right now, you feel tired from the last strikes.*”
“Tired is not the word I would use.” I breathe heavily. Except for the
jelly like structure, the breathing kit feels like it is not there at
all. And even better, I can move water and food through the mask.
Everything going in is sterilized while going through the thin jelly.
With it on, I can drink any water and breath almost any air.
The last strikes come back to me and I throw up. After a while, I get
back up again.
“How long would a rescue operation take, at most?”
“*I have not identified our location yet. Currently, my limited
resources are focused on ensuring your survival and a successful rescue
operation. It can take between 9 and 160 standard cycles until a rescue
team reaches us.*”
“160 cycles? Aleph’s ass. I have never been alone for more than a cycle
or two.”
“*Do not worry. Next to your standard training in emotional, physical
and mental health care, I can provide you with more in depth emergency
support.*”
I am shaken again by a memory.
“Do you know the Rite of Sorrow?”
“*The Rite of Sorrow indicates the passage of a Heart Child into the
Vettro caste. It includes graphic depictions of violence, trauma, and
loss. It is one of the duties Vettros have to perform in order to be
given the privilege of research grants.*”
Of course, Dade, knows about all the rites. Nevertheless, I am a Marduk
and my psychic hygiene requires talking to others. Next to regular
interaction in leisure, breeding exercise, physical exercise and
non-breeding intimacy. Interaction with my Heart Family and my crew.
Dade can help me much, but xe cannot bring them back. Lope hurts the
most. The view of xyr being torn to atoms by the collapsing bubble hits
me again. Lope, I am so sorry. I should have never insisted.
A few tears come, then a lot and then the sobbing starts. They were my
colleagues, my friends, something like a Heart Family. Right now, there
is nothing rational I can do about my loss and grief. Just find another
shoulder to cry on. My sobbing becomes stronger. There may not be
another shoulder for very long.
“*The preliminary shelter is set up completely and ready for you.*”
I look up, still feeling the wet tears on my fur. I blink the last ones
away. Above me, a weather balloon rises and a first fleet of drones is
setting up a perimeter. Dade seems to be functioning alright.
“Can I help you somehow?”
“*It is best you rest and eat for now. Though the Imperial Decrees
enable you to do all current tasks just as well, I advise you to find
emotional stability and energy, until further notice.*”
“Then I guess I have to thank both you and Emperox Ninurta.”
“*Indeed. Ratios have been prepared in your preliminary shelter.*”
I should conserve my strength and get back to a nominal emotional state
soon. The food is alright, standard imperial emergency ratios with a few
pills. Sleeping pills, probably. They are not suppressing my emotional
response, just limiting them. I feel the grief and loss, while I eat and
drink. My thoughts are with my crew.
My journal duty feels easy for most of the last cycle. Standard
operation, standard observations, standard behaviour of the strange
mass. Standard in a ‘we are travelling insane distances at so far
unheard velocity’ way in a makeshift second choice ship. I still
remember most of the numbers we had when the strange matter ground us
into destruction. But then it gets more complicated. I start writing
Lope’s name, thinking about my crew and how they died. My underarm
lights up. Dade sent me a message, assumingly so xyrs voice does not
distract me.
“*I suggest you to skip this triggering part for now. We will review
this later. Please continue from the point in time that you stepped into
the shelter.*”
In a few cycles xe will remember me to update my journal accordingly,
and it should be easier for me than, even without the emotional
limiters. I finish my journal. I am looking forward to my family, to
Zyra’s embrace and Leto’s laughter. I could really use a hug from my
Heart Family right now. I lie down and try to fall asleep. Dade seems to
have made the shelter especially dark and quiet, maybe xe also added
some nice scents reminding me of home. Those emergency shuttle Bots do
that. All just to make you feel safe and comfortable.
Even when considering all the sedatives, emotional limiters and training
for this flight, I remain amazingly calm and proactive. There are a few
persons to thank for. Though of course, back then, I was far from
grateful to them. I hated them, especially Nona.