Chapter Text
Sol 19 Log Entry
I am basically fucked.
That is my professional and personal opinion.
Fucked.
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Sol 18 Location: Acidalia Planitia, Mars
The sun beat down on the canyons and craters covered in the endless miles of sand, dirt and rocks. The empty wind was the only sound in the desolate landscape whistling through caves and caverns, singing for none.
The only signs of life was the clinking of metal hitting metal the echoed across the barren space.
Astronauts in their suits buzzing slowly around the compound they’ve been living in. Working away at tasks that could eventually unlock the mysteries this planet has fascinated Earth with for thousands of years.
“Alright team, stay in sight of each other.” Commander Kimball’s voice came in through their radios, she was watching each member of her crew closely. Glancing at each member periodically as she went through her tasks. “Let’s make NASA proud today.”
“How’s everything going in the dirt, Tucker?” Grif’s voice tuned in next, he was furthest away from his fellow crew members. He was making his routine checks on their ship, and their only way home. Tucker’s chuckle answered him first.
“Well I’ll bet you’re going to be glad to hear that Grid section 787-22, were coarse and but in 21 they were much more suitable for chem analysis.” Said astronaut screwed shut the jar of martian dirt and wrote down the grid section on top of it.
“Oh woow” Grif said slowly “Did everyone hear that? Vern discovered dirt! Someone tell the NASA.” He laughed at his joke and Tucker’s annoyed voice answered him over the radio once again.
“Oh and what are you doing, making sure the ship is still pointing up?” Tucker looked over towards the ship. He could see the rover and almost see Grif’s suit.
“I’ll have you know, that visual inspections is imperative to mission success.” Grif shot back. “I’d also like to report that the MAV is still pointing up.” Various chuckling came through from the various crew receivers, the small quarrel between the two was pretty common day to day. They both agreed that it was how they showed their affection for one another.
“You both know, Tucker, that leaving open your channel to argue with Grif just leaves Grif open to a response right?” Kimball finally cut in “Which leaves us all to listen, and me to be annoyed?”
“Roger that, Grif the Captain wants you to know you’re annoying her.” Tucker said smugly as he sat back on his hunches to turn and look at Kimball. He could almost see the woman’s annoyed glare from here.
“I’d prefer you both be quite personally.” Their other crewmate York chimed in from his spot inside the HUB taking notes, while in front of him working on their monitoring Grey made a noise of agreement.
“I can turn their radios off from here, Captain.” Grey sounded more than happy to do just that.
“I am almost worried that you Grey, forgot that constant communication-” Tucker’s tirade was cut off by Kimball’s voice.
“Shut them off.” A loud beep from Grey’s controls signalled both Tucker and Grif going radio silent, and thankfully silencing Tucker’s loud protests. That didn't stop him from standing up from his spot and give both Kimball, and the only other crewmate who could see him, Maine, the bird.
All crew members let the moment pass as they continued their work. It went on for a half an hour, everyone quietly working. Grey eventually turned Tucker and Grif back on and they filled the silence with quiet murmured conversations. The alarm blare was a shocking disturbance to the atmosphere they had cultivated the past few moments.
A bright yellow alert read out: Emergency! Mission Status Update
Grey pulled the alert to show it on her main monitor and sucked in a sharp breath. “We have a mission update, storm warning.” She clicked on her radio “Commander you should come inside and see this.”
“What is it?” Kimball’s slightly out of breath voice came back.
“A storm warning.”
“I already saw that in the morning briefing.”
“Yeah, no. No, they upgraded their estimate. It’s going to be a lot worse.”
“Coming.”
Kimball was quick to abandon Maine to take care of her samples and went to go inside. Over the horizon a wall of dust could be seen moving surely in their HUB’s direction. The wind was starting to pick up and whip and whistle harshly around the crew remaining outside.
The three men went from looking at each other to the wall, back to each other. None of them spoke, all waiting for their Captain’s orders.
“How’s it look out there guys?” York asked
“Not good.” Maine glanced once more at Tucker, and both moved fast to collect their samples and get inside.
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Once every member was returned the briefing began.
“The storm reads out as 1,200 kilometers in diameter, bearing 24.41 degrees.” Grey read out the report from her seat in front of the monitor.
“And it’s heading right for us?” Grif was chewing on his thumbnail, one of his biggest ticks. The hawaiian man wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, his gaze clouded over in thought. Each member of the crew wore a similar expression. They all knew what those readings meant for their mission.
“Based on current estimation, the estimated force of winds will be 8,600 newton's.” Grey glanced over at Grif as she spoke. He looked up and they held each other’s gaze for a breath before both sighed.
“And our abort force?” Tucker looked up from where he’d been glaring a hole in the floor.
“7,500.” The answer came out more like a burst of air from York’s chest. “Anything more and the MAV could tip.” The silence ringed and they all shared glances.
They had to abort the mission.
But that decision didn’t lay on all their shoulder’s, just Kimball’s. Eventually their eyes fell on their leader. She had been silent most of the briefing, reading and rereading the status update.
“So what do we do Cap, time to dip?” Tucker was the first to voice the question they needed an answer to.
Tucker saw her jaw clench as she stood straighter. She began to nod even as she sighed “Begin abort procedure.”
“We do have a margin of error, we could wait it out.” Maine reasoned from his seat next to Grey. He spun from the monitor to face the whole room, raising his hands in a indeterminate gesture. Tucker rose from leaning against the counter and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, what Maine said. Let’s wait it out.” They could all hear the rocks hitting the tarp of the HUB surrounding them as winds flung them freely through the air outside. A distant crackle of lightning could almost be heard. The HUB’s lights flashed for a moment.
Everyone was watching Kimball as she looked sternly at the monitor. The whole debate was playing out in her head. Everything that could go right and go wrong. It wasn't worth the risk to her crew’s lives.
“Prep for emergency departure.” She ordered, and then everything begun to abandon their HUB and leave behind Mars to return home.
“Commander-” Tucker tried for one last protest but for the second time that day was interrupted.
“We’re evacing Tucker, that’s an order.”
Grif left first, he set to preparing the MAV for launch and make sure they could actually get off world. “How long until take off?” Grey’s voice calmly came over their communications.
“12 minutes.”
Back in the HUB everyone was changed into their other suits for space travel and they entered the pressure chamber as one.
Kimball at the head of the pack turned to her team. She called out over the loud alarm blaring around them all “Visibility is almost 0. If you get lost hone in on my suit telemetry. Everyone ready?” A chorus of yes captains answered her and she swung open the door to the outside.
The darkness of the dust storm engulfed them all and they seemed to all groan as one. Wind hurled rocks and dirt against their bodies as they made their way slowly through the storm to the MAV.
“Everyone okay?” Kimball yelled out and got sporadic answers of yeses.
They grabbed onto each other and held tight. They moved slowly but together in a line towards the ship, it’s lights a beacon in the otherwise all consuming darkness. The only noise was the hard gasps of breath inside their helmets and the deafening hum of the wind around them. The small ticking noise of rocks hitting their covered heads barely registered in their ears. As the moved away the alarm from the HUB faded until it was the a pulse of noise in the back of their minds.
Grif watched over the various vital signs of each suit from his spot in the ship and watched as Tucker’s biometric tracker was further behind the others “Hurry up Vern.”
“Someone..has to close..the pressure door.” Tucker’s gasped for breath as he made his way back into line behind his team. So they moved slowly through the storm
“Commander, we’re at 10 degrees, the MAV tip at 12.5” Grif voice cut through the storm again.
“We might be able to keep it from tipping!” Tucker was quick to call from the rear, even with their radios the howling winds made it hard to hear him and they were forced to yell at each other.
“How?!” York called back glancing backwards to look for him through the dark.
“If we use the cables from comms as guidelines and anchor it with the Rover.” Tucker pointed towards said Rover, which the crew followed his line of sight. They all saw the satellite come off, they all watched as it flung by them. None of them could stop it as the metal object hit Tucker straight in the chest and send him flying into the dust. Then none of them could see Tucker.
They were helpless as his screams filled all of their comms, and then for the third time get interrupted and cut out.
“Tucker!” Grey screamed out, she was the closest to him and her hand was reaching out for the space where he had been, reaching for nothing.
The loud scream of the LOS almar screamed to life inside the ship as Grif took over the controls, trying in vain to find the lost signal of Tucker’s suit. A female voice that Grey, Grif, and Tucker had nicknamed Sheila came on “Warning. Suit breach detected.”
“What happened?!” Grif yelled out.
“He was hit! Tucker was hit!” Grey was still staring at the spot she had last seen Tucker, reaching for him like if she waited she could snatch him from the dust that stole him.
“Tucker report!” Kimball cried out turning her biometric scanner on and looking for Tucker’s suit signal. “Report, Tucker!”
“Before he went out of range his decompression alarm went off!” York called out from his position in line. He had heard that noise as clear as day. Kimball looked at him.
“Grey where did you last see him?!” Kimball spun to face the other woman. Grey was gesturing as she spoke in a panic, confirming that she didn’t know where he had gone. None of them could even see the lights from his suit.
“He’s offline.” That statement had them all speaking at once for a second.
“Stop! Grif! How long can he survive decompression?” Kimball’s voice wavered as she brought everyone's attention back to her before steeling and regaining it’s leading tone.
“Less than a minute”
“Okay, line up and walk west!” Kimball was quick to order and come to decisions, that's why she was leading this mission, it’s why NASA picked her. “He may be prone, we don't want to miss him.” The crew moved as a unit retracing their steps and calling out for Tucker.
“Commander…” Grif’s voice returned. He looked around the controls as Sheila’s voice called out ‘Warning! Excessive tilt!’ “We’re at 10.5 degrees, and we’re gonna be 11 soon with all this wind.”
“Copy that, everyone hone in on Grif and get back to the ship.” Kimball kept moving forward, kept swinging her head from side to side, hoping for her flashlight to just catch some white of NASA suits. “Prep for launch.”
“Commander?” York was closest to her and hesitated to leave her behind. They all froze where they stood waiting for her response.
“I’m going to search a little longer, move now!”
“Commander, we’re at 11.6 one good gust and we’re tipping.”
“Then you launch when the crew is on board.”
“We aren’t leaving you behind Commander.” That was the most serious any of the crew had heard Grif speak. His tone beg for no argument and Kimball respected that.
“Grey could our proximity radar detect Tucker’s suit?” She questioned, it was their last shot.
“It’s made to see the MOI from orbit, not a little piece of metal.” Grey hated the words as they came out of her mouth, it felt like spitting in Kimball’s face.
“Try it, Grif.” Grif answered with a roger and set the radar to scan, holding his breath in his chest as he waited. When the alarm blared he sagged.
“Negative, Commander.”
“Commander I know you don’t want to hear this, but Tucker is dead….We need to go.” York’s voice wobbled in the middle and he had to take a quick breath and loosen the tightness in his throat. “Our friend is gone, we can’t lose our Commander too.”
Sheila warned them again ‘Stability warning!’
Kimball didn't agree or disagree. She went to the ladder for climbing into the ship. She looked back to where the HUB should be and screamed “Lavernius!”
No one responded.
She got on the ship.
Just as they began to tip the crew of the Merope 3 mission closed the seal and prepared their launch.
They hit 12.2 when Grif turned to look at Kimball one last time. “We are ready for launch. Commander I need you to verbally tell me to launch.”
Wind whistled and howled, stones, sand, and dirt attacked the outside of the MAV. Kimball turned to Grif, “Go.”
They launched and successfully escaped the storm on Mars and began their trip back to their ship Mother of Invention, and eventually home to Earth.
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February 7th, Sunday. Location: Church Household
It was superbowl Sunday when the families all came together. The tightly knit family members of the Merope 3 mission, came together for this party. They had all meet when their various family/friends were assigned to Merope 3.
It had all been York’s idea really.
That had been five years ago, and the familial bond had only strengthened. It made dealing with the fact their loved ones flew around in space easier.
“Explain to me again why we had to have this at my house?” Church sighed as he placed another bowl of chips on the coffee table, it was quickly snatched by a hand from one of the various people surrounding him. He sighed again and took in the scene around him.
“It’s not even your house, it’s the Director’s house.” Simmons reasoned from his corner on the couch his family occupied. Church was surprised the skinny man wasn't on his phone, football always bored him to death. That didn’t mean that Simmons and Grif’s pseudo father, Sarge, didn't love it more than he loved his prized gun collection. Said man was cheering loudly at whichever team was winning currently.
Grif’s side of the family were all huddled together on the big red couch that was pushed against the left wall. Which was probably also why they were in the church household, it had the most couches. And everyone always sat in the same place.
Simmons, Sarge, Donut, Doc, and Kaikaina were a strange bunch. Kaikaina had known Tucker in school, and when Grif and Tucker were assigned together it had rekindled an old college friendship.
Two of Kimball’s spouses were seated lounging in the chair next to the red couch, Samuel was keeping Isaac from slipping off by wrapping his arms around the smaller man. Their third spouse Doyle was in the corner with Doc entertaining the children.
It amazed Church how many kids that had been born in the last few years. The eldest were the quartet’s son John who was actually 13 but was helping Doc and Doyle. York’s son Delta was a close second at 10, but the other kids were all much younger. Antoine who Grif when they first meet nicknamed Bitters, was 8. Katie and Palomo were both 7 and the youngest and newest addition was Tucker’s son Junior who was only 4. Church would never admit it, but he adored all those kids.
Speaking of children, Caboose was stacking chips on Church’s legs again. “Stop it Caboose.” That only made the taller man giggle quietly and grin at Church.
A sigh from the other side of Caboose signalled the hand that reached around the front of him and took the chips. A second later Washington leaned forward to level Church with an unimpressed stare. “Don’t put your feet on the table.”
Church snorted “Don’t tell me what to do, Washington.” Which just made Wash roll his eyes and lean back to his original position.
Church enjoyed David Washington. He had meet the other man when Tucker hosted the first crew get together five years ago, York and Maine had brought their family which was actually a small collection of veterans that had known each other for a few decades. Church was surprised when his sister Carolina had come with them, but both Church siblings laugh about it a lot now.
It’s how he was introduced to his now wife, and how Tucker and Washington had started dating. Church smirked at the memory, when NASA announced the launch date they were all together like this watching the news. It was the day Tucker proposed to Washington, sitting on the very same couch.
His semi blissful thoughts were interrupted when the football game on the TV cut out.
Everything in the room went silent.
“Breaking News update. We are going to you now live from the NASA headquarters in Washington D.C. on a developing story. Director of NASA Leonard Church Sr. has called for a press conference in relation to last night’s mission update from the Mars mission.” The news anchor was a pretty woman smiling though as she delivered the news that made every adult in the room freeze and halt their breathing.
Tex, Church’s wife, grabbed the remote off the coffee table before the camera could change off of the two smiling reporters. “Take the children out of the room.” Doyle and Doc exchanged a glance before ushering the children out. That was the only thing said, when the children were gone the screen began to play again.
The screen cut to Church and Carolina’s father in his regular work suit. He hadn't been in the house when Church woke to set up for the super bowl party later that day. Hadn’t even left his children a note saying where he’d gone. Church felt ice dripping down his spine.
The press room was silent, flashes of cameras going of sporadically and microphones seen along the lines of the camera, in addition to the ones attached to the podium from various news stations. Director Church wasn’t meeting the eyes of reporters but staring straight ahead and delivering his statement with a practiced detachment.
“At around 4:30 am central standard time, our satellites detected a storm approaching the Merope 3’s mission site on Mars. At 6:45 the storm had escalated to severe and there was no choice but to abort the mission.” There was a silence and the Director seemed to readjust himself and stand straighter as he began to once again speak “Thanks to the quick actions of Commander Vanessa Kimball, astronauts York, Maine, Grey, and Grif, were all able to reach the Mars Ascent Vehicle and perform and emergency launch at 7:34 am CST.”
The Director paused again and the dread settled around them all “Unfortunately, during the evacuation astronaut Lavernius Tucker, was struck by debris and killed.” The gasp echoed through the crowd of reporters and flashes began in full.
Something in the room fell to the floor and shattered. Church wasn’t sure what, he could only focus on the noise that ripped it's way out of Washington’s throat.
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February 7th, Sunday. Location: NASA HQ, Washington DC
Cameras flashed as Director Church continued on in his statement to the press. “Commander Kimball and the rest of her were able to intercept safely with the Mother of Invention and are now heading home. But Lavernius Tucker is dead.”
Reporters yelled out for Director Church’s attention and for him to answer his questions. The man just turned and walked off the stage and out of the room.
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Sol 19 Location: Acidalia Planitia, Mars
A single suit alarm beeping continuously in the empty air. A female voice repeated herself again “Oxygen level: Critical.”
Tucker gasped for breath as he woke up.