Beyond the Ark: Oliver Nash

Chapter I: Part I: The Meeting

As the Ark teeters on the brink of collapse, the weight of their dwindling resources bears down on the weary shoulders of its leaders. In a dimly lit chamber, Councilmen and Councilwoman alike discuss their doom, looking for a solution.

"The Ark is dying!" Counselman Marcus Kane exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table. The dimly lit chamber seemed to shudder with the force of his declaration, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the council members.

"We all know it, Kane," Councilwoman Abby Griffin spoke up, her voice a mix of resignation and determination. "We did what we could to keep that information close." Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable echoing with the weight of their predicament.

Chancellor Jaha spoke up, his weary figure slouched in his chair, the lines of worry etched deep into his furrowed brow. "Jake was floated, and his daughter Clarke has been put in solitary," he sighed, the sound echoing in the somber silence of the room. "At the current levels, all oxygen systems will fail in 3 months..."

"But things will get worse far before then," Abby chimed in, her voice tinged with a sense of foreboding. "Headaches, loss of senses, strokes."

Kane stood up, his form a stark silhouette against the backdrop of uncertainty. His brow furrowed furiously as he contemplated their dire situation. "Which is why we need to move ahead with the culling: we need more time to fix this."

"NO!" Jaha spoke up, his voice reverberating off the walls with a force that startled everyone at the table. "There has to be another solution other than killing the innocent," he declared, his words a desperate plea for salvation.

"Not the innocent," Kane countered, his voice calm but resolute as he took his seat once more, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. "We vent oxygen from the Prison, make it look like an accident, that should buy us a couple of weeks."

Abby's eyes flashed with fury as she met Kane's gaze. "You've already gotten my husband killed, Marcus, now my daughter?"

Marcus felt the weight of Abby's accusation like a physical blow. She was his friend, and her pain cut him to the core, but he could not afford sentimentality in the face of their impending doom. "What do you suggest, Abby? Kill the innocent? Do nothing?"

Abby leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers among the cold, metal beams. Kane's words lingered in the air, a silent plea for action, for hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them all.

"What about Earth?" Jaha's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, his words a desperate grasp at a sliver of possibility.

"That's the same as death," Kane replied quickly, his tone betraying a hint of doubt.

"Maybe," Jaha sighed, the weight of their situation pressing down on him like a physical burden. "But at least we can learn something from it."

"What are you saying?" Abby asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned forward in her chair, her eyes searching Jaha's face for any sign of hope.

"Abby, can you create a device each child could wear to monitor their vitals?" His voice rose, and glistening eyes met Abby's.

"Well, yes, but-" Abby's protest was cut short by the sharp rap of Jaha's gavel against the table, the sound ringing out like a death knell in the oppressive silence of the chamber.

"Then it's settled," Jaha declared, his features twisted into a grimace of determination. "We send the hundred to the ground in one week."

The council broke into brief discussions, their voices a cacophony of fear and uncertainty. But Abby remained silent, her thoughts consumed by the knowledge that in one week, her daughter would be sent to what could very well be her death. She would never see her again... please Earth be survivable, she thought to herself, her silent plea echoing in the recesses of her mind.

Amidst the turmoil, Marcus Kane noticed the worry etched on Abby's face, a testament to the depth of her fear and desperation. Kane was not a man of words, but in that moment, as their world crumbled around them, he found himself compelled to act. "Jaha, wait," Kane's voice cut through the chaos like a beacon of hope, his hand reaching out to stop Jaha from leaving. The rest of the council, along with Abby, turned to look at him, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Give them two weeks," Kane pleaded, his voice a whisper of defiance in the face of their impending doom. Abby's surprise was palpable, her eyes widening in disbelief at Kane's unexpected plea. But he met her gaze with an assurance that spoke volumes, a silent promise of hope amidst the despair. "Survival on Earth is almost certainly insurmountable, but," Kane took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come, "there's a chance, and if somehow, Earth IS survivable, we need to give them a chance."

Kane spoke with fire in his eyes, his words a rallying cry in the darkness that threatened to consume them all. Jaha was taken aback by Kane's sudden fervor, but he could not deny the truth in his words. "What are you suggesting, Marcus?"

"Give them 2 weeks, and send them to Pike."

Silence filled the room, the weight of Kane's proposal hanging heavy in the air like a tangible presence. "All in favor?" Jaha's voice shattered the silence, his words a solemn acknowledgment of the choice they faced. After a moment, a unanimous "I" echoed through the chamber, a chorus of desperate hope in the face of overwhelming despair.

"Very well then," Jaha declared, his voice tinged with resignation. "Starting tomorrow, all the prisoners will have a two-hour class with Pike for earth skills, all except Clarke and Oliver, they stay in solitary."

The council members nodded in agreement, their faces grim with the knowledge of what was to come. As they filed out of the chamber, Abby lingered behind, her eyes meeting Kane's with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "Thank you," she said softly, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Kane returned her a nod, his expression a silent promise of solidarity in the face of their shared struggle.