CHAPTER 10: DECISION PART II

The first drone was torn apart before it reached the lower atmosphere.

The second lasted six seconds longer.

The third made it farther than either of them, its reinforced hull pushing against the chaotic forces below. But in the end, it, too, was swallowed by the planet’s wrath—ripped into debris, another failure, another empty hope.

The Odyssey-4 command center was silent.

Lina sat rigid, hands clenched into fists. Around her, the room was filled with faces that had already accepted the inevitable.

“We can’t get to him.”

The words hit her like a weight to the chest.

She turned to Nguyen. His hands were pressed together, knuckles white. He wasn’t wrong. Three attempts, three failures.

“Maybe,” Dr. Sorenson started hesitantly, “maybe we try again in—”

“There is no later,” Lina snapped. Her voice echoed in the room.

Nguyen exhaled, shaking his head. “We’re out of options.”

Lina’s heartbeat pounded. No. No, they weren’t.

Her throat tightened. Her heart ached.

Do nothing, and he's dead. Try and save him and both (no ... all three of them) would likely die.

It took Elias 10 seconds to make his impossible decision, it took Lina less than 1.

She broke into storage, grabbed a flight suit, and ran straight to the flight bay.

The Ark Nursery wasn’t built for this.

Its walls were reinforced for storage, not entry. It was meant to be a vessel for future life, not a lifeline for a doomed planetfall.

Rows of sealed soil beds lined the interior. Racks of seed pods hung in climate-controlled chambers. It was supposed to be years before any of this touched real ground.

But now?

Now it was her best—and only—shot.

Lina’s hands flew over the controls, overriding the ship’s locked flight protocols. Warnings flared across the screen. Severe atmospheric instability. Unsafe descent vector. Catastrophic entry risk.

She accepted them all.

In the last seconds before she punched ignition, she let out a slow breath. It wasn’t just her anymore.

Her hand dropped instinctively to her stomach.

Then she hit the throttle.

The descent. The ship screamed downward.

The atmosphere punched against the hull, shaking the cockpit like a living thing trying to tear her apart. Lina gritted her teeth. Every alarm was blaring. Every warning light flashed.

She could barely see the nav screen through the turbulence.

A brief thought flickered in her mind. This is why they all failed. This is why they all died.

She didn’t care.

She forced the controls forward, wrestling the ship against the pull of gravity, guiding it not just downward, but toward Elias.

When she finally broke through the lowest cloud layer, the ground rose up too fast.

No time. No precision. No choice.

She braced.

The impact slammed her forward.

Metal shrieked. The world whited out.

100 meters away. Elias saw it happen.

The fireball, the impact, the skidding wreckage tearing across the desert toward them.

His chest seized. No, no, no.

TERI was already moving.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” the droid was saying as it shot forward, blue glow flashing wildly. “She better not be dead, I swear to—”

Elias wasn’t listening.

He ran.

His legs burned, lungs heaving—but he ran.

The ship wasn’t destroyed. That was the only thought he let himself hold onto.

He reached the hatch seconds after TERI.

The panel was half-torn from the frame. Smoke curled from the undercarriage. The ship groaned as metal settled.

He found the release latch and yanked.

It didn’t budge.

Again.

Nothing.

Again—

The hatch burst open.

Elias staggered back as Lina pulled herself into view.

She was bruised. Bloodied. Breathing.

She looked at him. And she smiled.

Elias let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He laughed—shaky, disbelieving. Then he grabbed her, pulling her into a hug so tight it nearly crushed them both.

TERI hovered back slightly, still buzzing with panic.

“Oh my god. I thought you were dead,” Elias said.

Lina winced. “I feel dead.”

TERI floated into view, giving a long, drawn-out hmm. “Well, well, well,” the droid muttered. “Another brilliant human decision, defying logic and common sense to plummet into a death trap. Love it. Really. This is exactly what we needed. More humans crash-landing.”

Lina exhaled sharply, brushing the dirt from her suit.

Elias looked over her shoulder. The interior of the ship was chaos. Bags of soil had burst open, seeds scattered everywhere.

“…Well,” he said slowly, still catching his breath. “Guess the three of us will get started on the terraforming a bit early.”

Lina let out a tired laugh. “Yeah,” she said. “Looks like it.”

She pressed a hand to her ribs, wincing.

TERI tilted its head. “Sooo ... just throwing this out there, but uh—you got some bruised ribs, or are you, ya know ...”

The moment hung in the air.

Elias turned to Lina.

Lina looked at him.

"Guess the four of us will get started on the terraforming a bit early."