Consequences

Ezra

I: Ezra "Strato" Pierce

"Captain Pierce. Do you copy? Over."

There is an ominous crack in the plexiglass of my helmet. It's been there for two hours now as I traverse the harsh terrain. Just my luck as I was dropped in a sandstorm was tearing up the crash site. This lead to an unidentifiable piece of debris clocking me upside the head. Every time I remember the crack is there I keep hope alive by spitting out curses at it in hopes that it won't grow. So far so good. As far as I know, none of the toxic atmosphere has gotten in, which is a relief. I'd be puking my guts up as I died if I inhaled it.

There is a pile of smoldering debris a few feet from me. I don't have to get a good look to know that it's a grave. Nothing but remains of someone who was lucky enough not to be on the Savior ship, the Sonne, yet, not lucky enough to be clear of the blast radius. There are hundreds more graves just like this. Little shoes litter the graveyard, purses stocked with money, cards, passports... all material things that now have no use.

'I repeat. Captain Pierce-- Strato, do you copy? Over.' My radio crackles to life and I consider not answering. A bit of a spiteful move on my part, however I find myself not wanting to leave the wreckage yet.

"This is Strato, I copy. Awaiting message. Over." There is nothing for a minute. In that time I estimate that the real treasure, the Sonne itself, is less than a half mile away. When it exploded there was nothing but dark billowing smoke in the sky for nearly a week. That smoke hasn't dissipated entirely and is now my guiding beacon as I make my way through what used to be a thriving launch port. No matter how many days pass,the death in the air still lingers. 'We're having some technical issues on our end. Your signature isn't showing on our radar. Can you give us your location? The Commander wants you back at base. Over." 

Forget the Commander.

"Flattering. Did he specify the urgency of the mater?" I'm taking the commsman's momentary silence as an eye-roll. A quick and crackled 'No' gave me all I needed to know. Kicking aside a rather large hunk of metal-- I'm assuming it was part of the water reserve tank-- I look up at the safety grid that circles the planet and try to calculate my position.

"I'm transmitting my coordinates now, give me forty and I'll be ready for extraction. Over." My mission isn't complete.

'Copy that, Strato. Starting countdown now. Over and out.' My trek was not for leisure unfortunately. Taking a hike through disaster was not on my original schedule for the day, but the mission was specially requested from Commander Ocasus himself. So, I brave the mercury filled air and pray to whatever cosmic being is listening that the crack in my helmet doesn't give. I reach the ship in ten minutes. The visibility is crap due to the ash that still swirls in the air. I don't have to see the wreckage to know just how bad it looks. I don't have to look down to know that the sand is stained with the dead. I was a safe distance away when the German Savior ship exploded. Over one million people died.

The Sonne was a fine piece of machinery, in fact, everyone was surprised it was the Sonne that exploded and not the Prosperity. Word was that there were a few corners cut due to time constraints and yet the Prosperity took off with no problems.

"Research log: location: Sonne crash site. Atmosphere toxicity levels remain at eighty-five percent. Temperature slightly elevated compared to previous survey. Seismic readings are normal. Debris location unmeasurable due to sandstorm effects." Looking down at the blackened soil, I notice several sets of deep ndentations that shouldn't be there. The crash site was blocked off and placed under heavy guard as soon as a fighting force was organized. No one should be able to explore the crash without military permission. This makes the footprints in the sand hard to explain.