OOC: I apologize for my absence of late, mostly from this Rp. I hope we can pick up where we left off. I don't like posting twice in a row but I guess I can make an exception.
Rafaelle smiled, lowering the magnetic storm that was the forcefield. The door fell at the lightest touch, and the boy-pilot winced. But his fear that she was behind the door as it fell vanished as he saw her, perched against the tree like an angel in simple slumber. His heart skipped a beat.
Was he too late? Did she already leave this world? As he rushed to her side images flashed in his head. The crew blaming him for all the deaths on his ship, Erin being the straw that broke the camel's back. Mutiny, a fiery crash, nothing.
Thump.
Thump.
It was useless, all he could hear was his own heartbeat beating against his ears, not her chest. Then he heard it, a ragged gasp. He breathed a sigh of relief, raising his head and nodding it toward the other two. Yes, she lived. Two rather distracted looking kids appeared around the doorway.
"Are you the pilot?" asked the larger of the two, a full head taller than the other and solidly built. His brownish-blond hair seemed to keep getting in his eyes as he walked over, but he didn't seem to mind. The lesser of the two was freckled, thin and had hair down to her shoulders the color of rotting carrots, in a large contrast to her shockingly bluish-white eyes. Both of their name-tags read "Adventurer" along with "Nickel" and "Winter" respectively.
"Yes I'm the pilot, and now in command." He stood. "If you could, I'd like you to get this young lady a stretcher, and tear some nanoids out of some emptied pods down the hallway. Mix them with water and let her get a good taste. They should make their way to her head and lungs more quickly that way and get some oxygen flowing." The two nodded and opened up a panel in the side of the ship, containing a snap-together hospital-grade stretcher and went about their business.
Dit-Dah-Dah---Dit...
Suddenly, the computer started beeping and words flashed on the screen as the Morse code was translated. There was no onboard telegraph device which could only mean one thing. "Help!" Rafaelle rushed to the screen, watching with weight gathering on his shoulders as the omen was foretold.
We are sorry, survivors of Earth. This message is to inform you of your current co-ordinates and predicament. You have, by the time this message is automatically sent to you and received, reached the planet Cleo. Unfortunately it has been reduced to the asteroid belt that you no doubt detected on your sensors. About half a century after you had left on your journey we detected the beam. A beam that destroyed the planet you were to land on. Truly we apologize for this troubling news, but we have no way of bringing you back. You have no contract to land on any other planet to colonize it, but as we cannot reprimand you from so far away in both time and space, if you choose to live, it is your choice to take that chance. We are sorry, survivors of Earth...
"Sorry!? They don't know the definition!" He slammed his fist against the console, bloodying it. "All this is their fault! The equipment, the planet, everything!" He bowed his head, all but defeated. This isn't what was supposed to happen. The computer told him so specifically of his future. Landing a scrapped ship on a non-existent planet wasn't part of it. Nothing added up!
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Erin was taken care of, an empty glass and a sack of what looked like gray sand sat next to her on a side tray of the clothed table. Both her and the adventurers were in the bridge now, even though the botanist was still unconscious, she looked healthier--less pale. Winter looked like she was holding back tears, and Nick's eyes were no doubt downcast under all that hair.
Ooc: Yeah, it'd be great if we could get this back on track. I finally made a breakthrough on the future on the planet, but we need to get there first. And yes, you heard me right, there is a planet to get to.
_________________ Anything is Possible... And Yet, Nothing is Probable.
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