CHRONICLE I: LOST CONTACT
Alex had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of her city’s first Cloud-drop from Earth. With the marking of immigration on the side, she knew they would finally have some much-needed help for the Power department. The recent electrical storm had incapacitated half of their engineers, leaving them with a skeletal crew to manage the city’s power supply. The tension had been palpable as they struggled to keep the lights on, and Alex felt the weight of the city’s future resting heavily on her shoulders.
When the canister was finally safely captured by her city’s receiving arm, Alex rushed to the docking bay to see what lay inside. As she entered the decompression sequence in the computer, her heart leaped with joy as the access panel slid down; she saw six stasis pods inside! They were the engineers they desperately needed.
Alex and her team quickly got to work, waking the engineers from their stasis pods and helping them acclimate to their new environment. The engineers looked slightly disoriented as they emerged from the pods, but their eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity. They were experts in power systems, and Alex could tell they were eager to dive in and make a difference. As they gave the new engineers a tour of the city, Alex couldn’t help but feel grateful that Earth had sent the right expertise on this Cloud-Drop. She knew that the other city-states were also vying for Cloud-Drops, and she felt a sense of pride that her city was able to get this team.
With the new engineers on board, Alex felt renewed hope for the future. She knew they could finally address the lingering power issues and ensure their city’s infrastructure was more robust and reliable. They could build a better future for their city and compete with the other city-states on Venus.
As she watched the sun set on the horizon, Alex knew they had made the most of this Cloud-Drop. They were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing they had the skills and determination to overcome them. The future of their city was in their hands, and they were ready to make it shine.
Jason had always known that life in the clouds of Venus was a precarious existence, but he never truly understood the extent of the danger until the day a piece of debris from a lost Cloud-Drop hit their city. The impact shook everything and set off alarms throughout the complex.
Jason rushed to the scene, his heart pounding as he wondered what had happened. Knowing Raul was on duty, he hoped to get a quick answer. Raul was the lead engineer who oversaw the city’s water and air generators, or what was left of them. Upon arrival, Jason knew that the situation was dire. Two generators were heavily damaged and leaking precious resources. Raul didn’t look up as he worked frantically to seal off the leak, determined not to lose the air and water critical to everyone’s survival.
Jason rushed in to help, but Raul stopped him in his tracks. They couldn’t fix the generators and evacuate Zone 2 simultaneously; They had to split up. Raul insisted that Jason focus on evacuating the other residents to safety while Raul dealt with the leak. Jason protested, but Raul insisted that Jason focus on the bigger picture.
With a heavy heart, Jason left to help evacuate the other residents. As they made their way to safety, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread building inside him. He had left his friend alone to face a dangerous situation. When he finally got the last person to safety, Jason rushed back to Zone 2 to see if Raul had sealed the leak. Upon arrival, he could see the leak had been successfully sealed off; however, Raul was slumped over next to the generator.
Jason’s heart sank as he realized his friend had sacrificed himself to save their city. He couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loss and sorrow for the man who had been more than just a colleague but a dear friend.
As the city mourned the loss of its top engineer, Jason couldn’t help but feel angry and frustrated at how quickly things could go bad in this hostile environment. Still, he also felt a renewed sense of purpose, determined to honor Raul’s sacrifice by making their city a safer and more secure place to live.
From that day on, Jason worked tirelessly to improve their city’s infrastructure and avoidance systems. He knew he couldn’t bring Raul back but could ensure his friend’s sacrifice would not be in vain. The memory of Raul’s selflessness would stay with him always, a constant reminder of the sacrifices they were all willing to make to keep their city alive.
As the lead engineer in charge of maintaining the city’s shield generators, Ali knew the importance of keeping the shields in good condition. Venus’s thick, acidic atmosphere could be deadly to humans, and the shields were the only thing standing between them and certain doom.
Ali and her team worked tirelessly to keep the shields in optimal condition daily. They checked the systems, ran tests, and made repairs where necessary. It was a grueling task, but they knew it was essential to keep the city safe.
Despite their best efforts, however, the shields were not foolproof. Ali had seen firsthand the damage thatcould be done when a shield failed. Buildings were destroyed, and lives were lost. It was a constant reminder of how precarious their existence was on Venus.
Ali knew that the city needed a better solution. The current shields were effective, but they required constant upkeep and repairs. Ali had heard rumors that the scientists at the International Innovation Station were working on a new material less susceptible to corrosion from the acidic atmosphere.
With that in mind, Ali approached the city’s leadership, requesting they send a team of eight of her best engineers to the station to work alongside the scientists to create a new shield design utilizing this new material. Her request was granted, and Ali felt a glimmer of hope. This new shield could be the answer they had been looking for.
As Ali and their team continued their daily upkeep of the shields, they knew they were fighting an uphill battle but also knew they were doing everything possible to keep the city safe. With the hope of a new, better shield on the horizon, she felt a renewed sense of purpose.
Ali knew they were a small piece of a larger puzzle, but she also knew that her team’s work was crucial to the survival of their city. They would continue to do whatever it took to keep the city safe as they worked towards a better future. For Ali, there was no other option. The city was her home, and she would fight tooth and nail to protect it.
Commander Maja’s Log:
In our city, suspended in Venus’s tempestuous skies, disaster lurks in every moment. My role as the Senior Engineer of Infrastructure mandates a relentless pursuit of honing our emergency protocols.
News of an ingenious invention at the International Innovation Station – a rapid transit pod – reached me like a spark in the darkness. This sleek shuttle was conceived to transport a pair of workers across departments, streaking through our city’s arteries at lightning speed in critical situations.
The promise of such a system sent shivers of anticipation down my spine. Past emergencies had been marred by time-draining navigation through the city’s intricate matrix to reach hotspots. This pod held the promise to drastically cut those wasted moments, thrusting us into the heart of the crisis within mere minutes.
In response, I ordered an immediate integration of these pods into our floating fortress. The prospect of retrofitting our existing infrastructure was daunting, but the potential returns were simply too great to ignore. I watched, heart pounding in my chest, as our city’s veins were rewired for the new technology.
With the perpetual menace of the Venusian environment ever-looming, the edge these pods provided could mean the difference between survival and catastrophe. Once the pods were in place, we took them on their maiden voyage. The sheer velocity of moving between departments was nothing short of staggering. Suddenly, an immediate response to emergencies was not just possible but guaranteed.
Despite the multitude of challenges Venus continues to throw our way, the rapid transit pods provide a newfound sense of confidence. Armed with this remarkable technology, we are better equipped to withstand the rigors of our hostile home. Our benefactors at the International Innovation Station have not merely gifted us a
novel invention; they’ve provided a lifeline. My gratitude for their innovation is as boundless as the Venusian skies.
Omar, a mech miner from New Eden, was admired for his steadfast commitment and courage. Often, he undertook double shifts, allowing the junior miners the necessary physical and mental recovery period between operations. His expertise in extracting the precious V-nite mineral from Venus’s harsh surface was unrivaled within the city. This resource was crucial; the lifeblood fueled their city.
Descending to Venus’s surface was a voyage filled with uncertainty and harsh weather conditions. The planet’s caustic atmosphere constantly chipped away at his mining mech. Concurrently, the intense surface pressure rendered each mining expedition a battle against time before the equipment buckled under the strain.
Today would be a day of peril. As Omar began his descent, a series of warning lights blazed across his console. The acidic corrosion from the atmosphere had damaged his Ascent Thrusters. The city’s repair crew had endeavored to fortify his shielding in the hangar, but the scarcity of supplies only allowed for a thin layer of protective coating on his mech’s wiring. A rush of emotions hit Omar – a melancholy for possibly never seeing his home again and a sharpened focus, understanding the importance of making this potentially one-way journey count.
Upon reaching the surface, Omar didn’t waver despite his failing mech. He persevered, extracting every obtainable piece of V-nite he could find. As his equipment deteriorated, his resolve didn’t flinch; it propelled him to labor even harder, intent on maximizing his contribution to New Eden’s survival.
Inside his dimming mech, Omar watched his final payload of V-nite ascend from the surface, carried by an emergency buoyancy chute. Through the static of his radio, the distant cheers from New Eden’s citizens reached him, their applause wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. With his gaze locked on the cloud-clad heavens above, Omar steeled himself for the uncertainty, prepared to confront whatever lay ahead.
Newly elected Governor Camille sensed the city’s unease as news of Earth’s communication blackout spread throughout New Eden. Was communication interrupted, or did something catastrophic happen? It had already been weeks without a transmission received. The city’s survival had always hinged on the regular Cloud-Drops from Earth, and uncertainty loomed about when, or if, another shipment would arrive.
Yet, surveying the determined faces of her fellow citizens, Camille felt an undeniable surge of pride and hope. For years, they had tirelessly worked towards making New Eden self-sustaining, anticipating a scenario just like this.
Their engineers had innovated new crop growth and water purification techniques, while the International Innovation Station’s scientists regularly introduced breakthrough ideas for energy production and waste recycling.
Facing this daunting challenge, New Eden’s inhabitants were undeterred. They rallied together, exhausting hours and pushing their limits to enhance the city’s self-sufficiency. Gradually, they began to see the fruits of their labor. The city started to produce surplus food and generate enough energy to function independently of Earth’s Cloud-drops.
As weeks turned into months, confidence and self-reliance grew among New Eden’s citizens. They had confronted their greatest challenge yet and had emerged more robust than ever.
Camille knew this crisis brought hard-learned lessons forever etched in the city’s memory. They had proven they could survive without Earth, demonstrating their strength and ability to support themselves.
As Camille surveyed the bustling city, she marveled at the thriving entity New Eden had become. It was not just surviving but flourishing amidst Venus’s clouds. As the notion that this might represent humanity’s final stand gently crossed her mind, she was filled with a profound certainty. Working alongside the best, she knew they were ready to face any challenges ahead.
CHRONICLE II: SURVIVORS
The lights in Omar’s mining mech were flickering, a sign of the rig’s rapid deterioration. The radio, once a channel of warm voices from New Eden, now crackled with static. Suddenly, a faint sound sliced through the radio’s white noise. An emergency beacon; it was unmistakably emanating from a cryopod.
Omar froze. Could there really be survivors down here on the hellish surface of Venus? The idea sparked something within him. He was no longer just a stranded miner; he had a new mission. His own potential endgame
transformed into a call to action. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Straining his eyes through the dim light, Omar squinted at the console. The beacon’s signal was faint, but it was there. He could track it. Could there be other survivors? There may be spare parts he could salvage! Was it possible to ascend back through the clouds of Venus to New Eden?
The questions spurred him on. Omar fired up the remaining power in his mech, directing it towards propulsion. The tracking system, although flickering, managed to lock onto the beacon’s signal. His mech, despite its failing condition, began a slow trek toward the source of the signal.
Thoughts raced through his mind. How would he reach them? How would he get them, let alone himself, back to New Eden? What could he do against the crushing pressure and corrosive atmosphere? But amidst the doubts, a glimmer of resolve hardened. He was a miner of New Eden, an embodiment of human perseverance. He would find a way.
As his mech moved painfully slow over the Venusian terrain, Omar prepared himself for the arduous journey ahead. He was determined to reach the cryopod. If there was a chance of survivors, he would not let them down. He was not just surviving now; he was fighting, for himself, for potential survivors, and for New Eden.
Omar was far from defeated. The final chapter of his story on Venus was just beginning…
PILOTS LOG: 2222.12.02.16.23
The storm has passed, but the ruins still whisper.
My Mining Mech stumbles as I navigate the wreckage. Hydraulic servos groan, the left stabilizer threatening to seize again. The diagnostics on my HUD are a blood-red warning: Power reserves at 12%—critical. If I don’t find something soon, I’ll be just another wreck swallowed by the Venusian wastes.
Ahead, through the swirling sulfuric mist, I spot a fallen Mech. No shelters, no comms arrays—just metal and ruin.
I approach carefully, stepping over shattered composite plating. The Class-5 Excavator has “Olympus” etched into its side. It’s bigger than mine, built for deep-core mining, but its hull is gutted. Armor plating torn open, hydraulic lines bled dry. The cockpit is ruptured and empty.
Venus takes no prisoners.
I scan the wreckage, hoping for anything salvageable. Power relays? Useless. Fuel cells? Shattered. But then—beneath the twisted wreck of an access panel—I see it: a functioning capacitor bank. My pulse quickens. If it still holds charge, I might be able to boost my reserves, buy myself a few more hours of range.
I flex my Mech’s arms, guiding the twin manipulators toward the panel. The right claw stabilizes while the left drills into the fasteners, prying the casing free. Sparks arc as the plating clatters to the ground, revealing the capacitor bank inside.
It isn’t meant to be extracted this way—these components are designed to be serviced in a hangar, not ripped from a broken-down shell in the middle of a storm-scoured wasteland.
But I don’t have a hangar.
I have a life boat.
I maneuver the capacitor toward my Ore Chamber—the reinforced storage bay designed for hauling raw materials, not delicate electronics. But the capacitor port can be accessed from the bay, and I don’t have the luxury of being careful. The chamber hisses as I drop the salvaged part inside, burying it among shattered mineral deposits and dust-coated debris. It’ll get banged up in there, but I don’t have a better option.
I seal the chamber and rush back to connect the servo and adjust the power routing. After making my way back to the cockpit, I brace myself and run a rough diagnostic.
The HUD flickers—then stabilizes.
Power restored: 42%.
It’s not much, but it’s enough. Enough to keep searching.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
And that’s when my comms array hisses.
A signal.
Faint, fractured by the interference of the planet itself. But it’s there.
Not a voice. Not a distress call. Just data. A repeating burst of telemetry, locked in a loop. I isolate the signal, reroute it through my system’s decryption suite. The coordinates resolve.
The transmission source is close—less than a kilometer north.
Maybe I can help them… maybe we can help each other.
I don’t waste time.
PILOTS LOG: 2222.12.02.16.43
The storm may have passed, but Venus never sleeps.
I push my Mining Mech forward, servos groaning under the strain. The coordinates from the distress signal lead me through a jagged canyon of sulfur-stained rock. The wind is low now, just a whisper against my hull, but the silence makes it worse. The pressure from above is still there. Ever-crushing.
I keep moving.
It takes twenty minutes to reach the site. The signal pulses stronger as I crest a ridge, and then—I see it.
A Cryostasis Pod, half-buried in dust, its outer casing pretty banged up. It must have ridden the canyon wall down. But it’s intact. The beacon wasn’t lying.
I scan for life signs.
One occupant detected.
Vitals: Weak, but stable.
Cryo status: Emergency mode. Power: Low, but in conservation mode.
If I’m going to bring them out of stasis, I need to do it soon. We don’t have much time.
I move quickly, bringing my Mech’s arms into position. The Ore Chamber is still warm from the capacitor salvage, but I’d cleared out the debris on my way here, making space for exactly this moment.
I bring the Mining Mech to a halt, stabilizing on the rocky ground. My hands are tight on the controls, but I force myself to breathe.
I engage the precision manipulators, extending the Mech’s articulated claws. The pod is heavy—bulkier than my usual payload—but the stabilizers compensate as I lift it from the dust. A faint hiss escapes as the outer vents adjust to the movement.
The readout flickers:
Cargo secured.
Now comes the hard part.
I rotate the pod into the Mech’s service bay, where I can access it manually. The emergency power is nearly drained—if I wait too long, he won’t wake up at all. I override the system, diverting auxiliary power from my reserves to stabilize the cryo-thaw sequence.
A sharp hiss escapes the pod as it begins its awakening cycle.
Pressure equalizing.
Cryo fluid draining.
Neural stabilization in progress.
I watch the readout, heart pounding.
The pod hisses again, the lid unlocking with a slow, mechanical click.
And then—he moves.
A ragged gasp, a shudder as his body fights to adjust. His eyes snap open, unfocused and glassy. He coughs, struggling for breath, the effects of deep cryo wearing off.
I lean in, keeping my voice steady.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
His eyes flicker toward me, disoriented. His voice is raw, barely a whisper.
“…Where the hell am I?”
I exhale, relief washing over me.
“Venus,” I answer. “But you’re on the surface, in a Mining Mech.”
A pause. Then, a weak chuckle.
“A bit far from the city in the sky, huh?”
I nod. “Yeah. We’re working on that.”
He rubs his face, still shaking off the fog of cryo-sleep. “And you are?”
“Omar.”
He clears his throat, his voice gaining some strength. “Moe. Relief Engineer, Power Systems.”
I pause. Jackpot.
“Moe, your Drop-Canister overshot the city and fell to the surface. That’s the bad news.” I let the words settle before continuing. “The good news? I found you. Things are still rough, but at least now we’ve got a shot. The odds just got a hell of a lot better.”
He gives a slow nod, processing everything.
The pod beeps, signaling the end of its sequence.
I start the Mech forward again. We need to clear this canyon. If I found one survivor, there may be more. Once we reach the opening, I should be able to get a clean signal.
I fill Moe in on my journey so far as we restart the trek.
We still might die, but neither of us alone.
PILOTS LOG: 2222.12.04.09.17
Two days have passed since I pulled Moe and his Cryostasis Pod from the canyon. Since then, we’ve found and awakened three more survivors—Kevin, a V-Nite specialist originally assigned to New Eden’s mining division, Jana, a relief doctor meant for the main habitat, and Almeda (who goes by Ali), a Mech Tech destined for the mechanical support team. We’re no longer alone, but that hasn’t made survival any easier.
Just over a day ago, we came across a crashed mech—one that had been here far longer than us. The descent chutes hadn’t deployed. Maybe they never fired, or maybe they tore loose on impact. Either way, no one survived that wreck. It was a Titan-class model, older than ours, probably one of the early units before Ops mandated redundancy coils to prevent crashes like this. Too little, too late for whoever was piloting it.
Like vultures, we picked the mech carcass clean—servos, depleted cores, leg actuators, and a tangled heap of unrecognizable scrap. Whatever we could cram into the hold, we took. There was no time to sort through it, but we were too desperate to leave anything behind. Now, we just had to make use of it.
Our team has been working around the clock to repair as much of this metal sanctuary as possible. These mechs were never designed to remain on the surface for this long. The pressure is unrelenting, and every fix reveals another problem waiting to cripple us. Power is dropping fast, and without V-Nite, we won’t last much longer. Worse still, refining V-nite and containing it within a power core, was never meant to be done outside of a controlled facility.
It’s a dead man’s game.
“New Eden will pass overhead in eight hours. If we can get a signal out, they’ll know to capture us on ascent,” I say with assumptive confidence.
If not, it’s a long way down without working chutes. A lesson the carcass has shown us.
Knee-deep in spare parts, trying to repurpose what was left of our mech’s internal processing unit, Ali muttered, “But we don’t have thrusters yet. Or a way to get a signal out.”
The life support system sputtered again, the overhead lights dimming and pulsing like waves on a beach. I exhaled sharply, glancing at the faces of my team. Kevin sat hunched over a salvaged console, running calculations. Jana was finishing a round of checkups, making sure none of us were on the verge of collapse. Moe stood nearby, arms crossed, deep in thought.
We had made it this far. But surviving wasn’t enough.
Now, we had to act.
“One problem at a time, Ali,” I said, gesturing toward the bright blip on the console radar. “There’s still another cryo-pod within reach.”
Moe leaned against a metal crate. “If we don’t secure power, none of us are making it. We need to refine V-Nite, but that’s easier said than done.”
Kevin nodded. “We have some ore, but concentrated V-Nite is unstable. If we don’t handle containment right, we’ll take ourselves out before the planet does.”
“There has to be something we can jury-rig,” Ali said, barely looking up. “Mining mechs were built to process raw material. If I can reconfigure the intake system, we might be able to extract and refine a small amount safely.”
“We still gotta get it into a power core without killing ourselves,” Moe interjected.
“Ali and I will figure out how to refine it,” Kevin said, glancing at him. “But power cores are your specialty, Moe.”
Jana sighed. “Exposing the crew to that much raw energy in this tight space will be instant curtains.”
I would have bet it was curtains three days ago.
The fear of death has been replaced by the fear of failure for me.
I gestured toward the dimly flashing console displaying New Eden’s trajectory. “We’ve got eight hours. What’s our plan?”
Jana rubbed her temples. “We prioritize. The cryo-pod. The power. The signal.”
Ali nodded. “Agreed. Kevin and I will start on the mobile refinery. You and Omar work on that last cryo-pod. They deserve a chance like the rest of us.”
Moe spoke up, “I’ll see what comm-tech is still in our hold’s scrap pile. There may be an egg or two in that nest of wires.”
I looked around at the group. We were exhausted, running on fumes, but there was no other choice. “Alright. We’ve got a plan. Let’s make it count.”
The lights flickered again, lingering in darkness for just a moment too long. I took a breath. Imposter syndrome stabbing me like a cold dagger. They were looking to me to lead, but I am just a miner.
I brush it away.
Doubt won’t deliver us from the darkness.
The lights resumed their steady hum.
We started to move.
We need to keep moving…
PILOTS LOG: 2222.12.04.15.02
Time was slipping away. We had less than three hours before New Eden passed overhead. The good news? Kevin and Ali had done the impossible—they refined enough V-Nite to power the mech for ascent. The bad news? Moe had figured out the last piece of the puzzle, and it came with a price none of us were ready to pay.
But first, there was one last Cryostasis Pod.
Kim was still groggy when we pulled her from stasis. The cryo fluid hadn’t fully drained, leaving her movements sluggish as she blinked at us with unfocused eyes. She coughed, her voice hoarse. “Who… who are you?”
“You’re safe,” I assured her, helping to stabilize her. “I’m Omar. This is Jana.”
She squinted at me, then at Jana, before her gaze darted around the mech interior. Her fingers instinctively reached for the patch on her sleeve. “Kimberly Holt. Communications Specialist.”
“You’re with the city recovery team?” she asked, voice still laced with sleep.
I hesitated. “Not exactly.”
Kim pressed a palm against her forehead as she tried to process what was happening. “I was supposed to start my post in New Eden. But if I’m in a mech, that means—”
“You never made it,” Jana finished. “We’ve been stranded on the surface for days.”
Kim exhaled sharply. “Great. So whatever training I was supposed to get is out the window.”
“Not necessarily,” I said, glancing toward Moe, who was silently watching us from the edge of the room. “We need to establish contact with New Eden before they pass overhead. Whatever you know about comms, we need it now.”
Kim bit her lip, uncertainty flashing across her face. “I can try.”
That was all I needed to hear.
Meanwhile, Kevin and Ali had finally managed what we thought was impossible. A refined V-Nite sample, shimmering with barely-contained energy, nestled in the grips of the rigged processor like a caged storm. But it wasn’t enough just to have it—we needed to transfer it into the mech’s power core. And that was where Moe made his final call.
“There’s no automated way to do this,” Moe said, his voice calm but firm. “The interface between the V-Nite and the core is too unstable. It has to be guided manually.”
Ali shook her head. “We’ll figure out something else.”
“There is nothing else,” Moe shot back. “If we don’t do this now, we lose the window and this was all for nothing.”
Silence. The weight of the moment pressed down on us.
Moe turned toward me. “You’re going to need the mech fully powered for ascent once the city is in position. There is not enough power to wait until the city completes its next rotation.”
I clenched my jaw. “You don’t have to do this.”
He offered me a tired smile. “Yeah, I do.”
The arc-suit was old, patched in more places than I was comfortable with, but it was all we had. It wasn’t built for this—it was meant for minor power surges, not full exposure to raw V-Nite energy. Moe knew it wouldn’t hold forever.
“Once the connection is made, you’ll have less than two minutes before the feedback becomes lethal,” Jana warned as she helped Moe adjust the suit’s harness.
“Two minutes is plenty,” Moe lied.
No one spoke as Moe stepped into the power room, the massive chamber housing the energy transfer relay. Kevin had already loaded the refined V-Nite into the intake chamber, waiting to be connected. This was the moment of truth.
Once everyone was out of the containment field, Moe initiated the connection process. The core whirred to life, arcs of energy dancing across the containment coils, lashing at him like whips of lightning. The mech groaned as power surged through its veins, once-dormant systems flickering awake. The arc-suit resisted, holding out like a battered shield against an unrelenting storm. But as the energy levels climbed, the fabric started to fray, and Moe’s breathing grew ragged. “Almost there… connect, damn it!” he gritted through clenched teeth.
I stood by the comms console, helpless. As I scanned the crew’s faces, I saw horror and sadness. Ali’s eyes welled up, Kevin’s face turned pale. “Moe, pull out. That’s enough!”
“No,” he gasped, barely audible over the crackling energy. “Not yet.”
The mech shuddered, stabilizing as the core locked into place. A success.
Suddenly, the arcs of energy silenced, like a raging storm that had exhausted itself. I rushed through the containment field just as Moe collapsed, catching him before he hit the ground. The arc-suit was burned through in several places, his skin blistered beneath it. He looked up at me, his lips curling into a weak smirk. “Told you… two minutes.”
“Hang in there, buddy. You’re going to make it.” It was me lying now.
He gave a faint chuckle. “I was already dead three days ago… you gave me more time. Now I’ve given you a chance.”
His breathing slowed.
Then stopped.
The emotion was visceral. A man I knew for only three days just gave everything for us to have a chance.
Everything.
The mech was ready. The power core was online. New Eden was moving into position.
But Moe was gone.
I stood up, my hands clenched into fists, staring at the body of the man who had saved us all. The man who had given us a chance. Kim’s voice came through the comms, shaking. “Omar… we have a connection.”
I forced myself to breathe. One step at a time. “Put it through.”
This wasn’t over. He died so we could live.
We need to live…
PILOT’S LOG: 2222.12.04.17.41
New Eden was waiting for us.
The voice on the other end of the comm was hesitant at first, as if hearing ghosts. When Kim made contact, the entire control room on the city’s end fell into stunned silence. Then came the disbelief, the frantic questions—how was this possible? How were we alive?
They had already held my celebration-of-life service. It was just yesterday.
I stared at the comm panel, barely listening to the voice on the other end. Moe should have been here to hear this—but Moe wasn’t here and we didn’t have time to grieve.
Not yet.
As the muffled voices faded into the background, I surveyed the room. Everyone was focused. Color had come back to Kevin’s face as he poured over the power readouts, and Ali’s eyes were now a desert where an ocean once flowed. Kim’s voice was steady with purpose as she relayed our situation, directing the transmission with a confidence that pushed away the uncertainty she had when emerging from the pod. Jana, standing near the med bay, hadn’t spoken much, but her presence was unwavering. She had done everything she could for Moe. For all of us.
“We’re deploying a capture tether on our next pass,” New Eden’s chief engineer finally said. “But you have to initiate your launch sequence—now.“
I turned to the others. This was it. “Everyone, all systems go!” I asserted with urgency.
Ali initiated the launch sequence, fingers flying over the controls as the mech’s systems roared to life. The core, powered with Moe’s sacrifice, pulsed steady as we began the countdown.
“Thrusters primed,” Kevin called out. “Bringing them online now.”
A deep rumble vibrated through the mech as the thrusters ignited, sending a shockwave of dust and debris scattering across the cracked Venusian surface.
I gripped the restraints, heart pounding. “Brace yourselves!”
The mech lurched as the boosters fired. Like an athlete performing a box-jump, we were off the ground and accelerating, the pressure clawing at my chest.
The explosive power of the V-Nite shrouded us in plasma as we rose like a phoenix through the clouds. Our home was on its way to intersect.
Then the thrusters sputtered.
A shudder rolled through the mech, and suddenly we were dropping. Weightless, our harnesses holding us down.
“We’re losing lift! Power couplings are going offline!” Kevin shouted, frantically scanning the readings.
Ali was already moving. “The flow regulator’s failing—we’re not getting stable energy to the thrusters.”
The mech shuddered violently as we fought against gravity. The clouds churned above, our window to New Eden closing with every second.
Kim’s voice crackled through the comms. “New Eden, we are destabilizing—do you have us on telemetry?”
“We see you,” came the response. “But your altitude is short, you need another 93 meters or we won’t be able to grab you.”
“We need those thrusters!” Kevin yelled.
“I’m trying,” Ali snapped. Her hands were a blur, bypassing safety systems, rerouting power through auxiliary circuits. “I can give us a few more seconds.”
I saw what she was doing and my stomach clenched. She’s going to burn out the emergency landing dampeners, but this was always going to be an all-or-nothing.
Ali’s eyes met mine, fierce and unwavering. I nodded approval. “Take us home.”
The mech bucked as the re-routed energy surged through its systems. The thrusters roared back to life, stabilizing—just barely.
Jana, who had been monitoring vitals and stabilizers, called out, “Pressure is building on the frame. If we don’t latch soon, we’ll burn out more than just the dampeners.”
“Come on, come on…” Kim whispered, watching the altimeter crawl upwards. 90…91….92…93!
A ping echoed through the cabin—Target lock. Then the tether hit like a harpoon catching its prey.
The mech jolted as massive magnetic clamps engaged, halting our descent and yanking us upward like a hooked fish. The force slammed us against our seats, several display monitors ripping from their brackets and crashing to the floor.
And just like that—we were caught.
The climb was excruciatingly slow. The tension in the cabin didn’t ease until we broke through the thick Venusian clouds, the golden haze giving way to the glinting lights of New Eden above.
The radio crackled. “We’ve got you. Bringing you home.”
Kevin let out a breath, slumping back. Ali exhaled something between a laugh and a sob. Kim simply stared out the viewport, eyes wide, taking in the sight of the city she was meant to call home. Jana, still gripping the back of her seat, finally let out a shaky breath, her knuckles white from holding herself steady.
I closed my eyes, letting my head rest back against the seat. We had done it.
A phoenix rising from the ashes. My tomb became an ark.
I thought about where this started three days ago. Was I meant to save these strangers, or were they meant to save me? Maybe both. I was never trained to be more than a miner. I never wanted more. But circumstance doesn’t care about what you want.
Hope wasn’t something given. It was something fought for. Moe knew that.
New Eden now represents a new life for all of us. A second chance to help make this world the most it can be.
I don’t want to just be alive.
I want to live…