Sentience
It was a normal mission by anyone's standards at the time: travel to planet Genotha and collect samples of the evidence of water, foliage, anything that could signify life. We should have known our efforts would only be so lucky.
Cursory imaging from our orbital satellites showed only a faint hint of a basin, possibly carved out by some ancient water stream. This shadowy hope loomed over us, not promising results, but definitely dangling the possibility in front of us. We took the chance and built a new type of rocket, able to withstand the torque applied to the frame of the shuttle as it was slungshot around Jupiter's gravity well. It was named 'Icarus', after the ill-fated son of flight. Anyone familiar with the myth is aware of the irony of naming a several trillion-credit space-flight program such a thing, but then again, our contractor didn't seem as whole-hearted as they let on...in hind-sight.
_ was a mining company that recently began shipping its work off to other planets when the resources in ours ran dry. This was a plus for them because for one, few companies could raise the capital to compete in such a pricey market. Not to mention planets like Mercury and Pluto were host to a largely unknown element _ called 'Marinthus.' It was supposedly a malleable fiber that conducted heat, light, energy, and basically any other transmitted substance or anomaly we'd come up with thus far. It was also proved to be impossibly durable, withstanding weapons and ballistics tests, climate control tests, and weight-bearing tests. It promised to be the next huge step forward in science in every field. It was no wonder they were so eager to scout this new planet for their pay-dirt. But naturally, they didn't want to have to scrounge on a dirty, lifeless planet themselves. They built the rocket and sold it out to the research group with the highest bid. Through means not yet declassified by my employer, we were able to bid a whopping 340 trillion credits to take on this venture. Thus, we were trained, briefed, and shipped out, ready to stake our claim on the universe with the acquisition of this new planet and its riches.
A large portion of the crew was skeptical about the mission leading up to the months of the voyage. Many precautions were made to ensure a safe flight, but that was about it. The necessary tools, computers, and general must-haves for a trip of this undertaking were lacking. The ones we did have were rudimentary at best, ensuring we could identify any source of water and uncover a source of Marinthus, if possible. All the oversight regarding tools was likely done intentionally, to distract the crew from the detail our employers knew we would overlook. The life support systems and food supplies would only last up to 3 months of sustained travel. The round-trip itself would take at least 6. We weren't meant to come home.
2 months into the trek across the solar system, many of the crewmembers became increasingly restless and worrisome. They claimed to feel as if they were being watched; as if something knew they were there. The rest dismissed this as homesickness or 'space fever' as a weathered few had come to know it. The feelings of anxiety remained, however, up until the apex of the situation. A brawl broke out in the nutrition room during dinner one evening as the uneasy members began shouting at the navigational crew that they needed to turn the craft around and return home while they could. They became hysterical, tearing at their hair and clothing until many of us feared for our own lives, as well as theirs. Finally, the medical team had to sedate them and return them to their stasis chambers. They were to release them from prolonged slumber upon land-fall at the destination and re-examine them for mental aptitude. However, only 2 of the detained remained so. That evening, as the rest of the crew rested, 6 of the unstable members escaped from their stasis and slashed their necks, allowing their blood to escape and bubble out into the air around their cabins.
After 92 days, the Icarus reached planet Genotha. With only 12 of the original 18 crew remaining, many of us were forced to stay on the ship and double as medics or technicians while small parties went out to investigate the surrounding landscape. I was assigned to such a group only once, and the views I saw were less than spectacular. The planet was barren, to say the least. The surface was a mixture of fine, grey sand and what appeared to be a sort of silt or soil compound. The latter meant that water had definitely once existed on the surface, if it didn't somewhere still. But there still seemed to be no sign of life other than ourselves across the temperate, empty vastness. If only it had remained so.
