Chapter 1

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The steady hum of the ventilation system filled the Hab, a soft, mechanical pulse that had become the background music to life on Mars. It was a constant, almost soothing in its consistency, unlike the rest of the harsh, unpredictable environment beyond the thick glass windows. Olivia Rhodes stood there, arms folded across her chest, her eyes fixed on the endless expanse of red dust and jagged terrain that stretched out under the hazy light of the setting sun.

Mars was vast—an alien desert, unwelcoming and still. Too still.

The landscape blurred in her vision, her focus turning inward as her mind drifted. The silence felt heavy, pressing down on her like the weight of an impending storm. It reminded her too much of the lulls she'd known in the military—those eerie, deceptive moments of quiet that crept in right before things went to hell. She had learned, in the harshest way possible, not to trust that quiet. That was when the worst happened. Always.

Her body tensed unconsciously, the familiar prickle of unease crawling up her spine, as though her instincts, sharpened from years of survival in chaotic war zones, were whispering to her, something's coming. The air inside the Hab, though filtered and controlled, felt too thick, like the stillness before an explosion.

A light tap on her shoulder jolted her back to the present. She blinked, the Martian desert snapping back into sharp focus.

Beck, the crew's flight surgeon, stood beside her, his helmet tucked casually under his arm, his smile soft but curious. His presence was steady, a grounding force she had come to rely on more than she'd expected.

"You're doing that thing again," Beck said, his tone easy, laced with amusement.

Olivia arched a brow, turning to face him. "What thing?"

Beck leaned against the wall beside her, his posture relaxed, the casual confidence of a man accustomed to space missions. "The 'I'm a million miles away' thing," he clarified, nodding toward the window. "Or, in this case, thirty-four million miles away."

She couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. "I wasn't aware you were keeping tabs on me."

"Hard not to when you've been standing there staring out into the abyss for thirty minutes," Beck replied, his own smile growing. "You okay?"

Olivia shifted, dropping her arms to her sides and rubbing them absently as if warding off a chill, though the Hab was a controlled 22 degrees Celsius. "Yeah," she said, though the word felt heavy. "Just... can't shake this feeling. Everything's been running too smoothly."

Beck's gaze followed hers toward the Martian horizon, where the faint stirrings of dust were barely visible in the distance. The sky, a muted orange, gave no immediate warning of danger, and the equipment inside hummed softly, all systems nominal. By all accounts, things were fine. But Olivia couldn't shake the nagging tension coiled deep in her gut.

"Everything's supposed to run smoothly," Beck said, his voice calm, almost soothing. "That's the idea, right? No surprises."

"I know," Olivia replied, though she wasn't sure if she fully believed her own words. She ran a hand through her auburn hair, which she had tied back to keep it from falling into her face. "It's just... back in the field, when things got this quiet, it usually meant something was about to go wrong. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Beck's expression softened, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He had known about her military background, though she didn't talk about it much. "Military habits?" he asked, his tone gentle, knowing.

She nodded, her gaze momentarily dropping to the floor, her mind replaying images she had long since tried to bury. "Yeah. There was always this moment, right before everything fell apart, where it felt like the world went still. Like the universe was holding its breath before something terrible happened. I learned to stop trusting that quiet. It almost always meant trouble."

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