Across Time [Bellarke]

CHAPTER ONE

Day 855 (2 years and 3 months since Praimfaya)

"Hi, Bellamy it's me," Clarke pauses, swallows, frustrated by the lilt in her voice as she says his name. By now, he knows this introduction – knows that it's the introduction Clarke gives when she's feeling devoid of hope.

The pause is a long one. And in these quiet moments, tears trickle down her already reddened cheeks. Clarke had always assumed that loneliness was an affliction of the mind. She never expected it to be an affliction of the heart. And her heart yearns, yearns for familiarity, for family.

"I – um," she catches herself, strengthens her voice and roughly wipes at her cheeks. He will never know how much his absence torments her. "I spent last night stargazing, saw The Ark swing by – again."

"Do you ever wonder if we're alone here? Not on Earth, but alone in the universe?" Clarke thinks for a moment. "I remember my mom telling about Voyager 1, you know, the NASA space probe. We lost contact with it about a hundred and fifty years after its launch. But, she told me how it contained this audio-visual disc, an entire recording of Earth from the twentieth century."

"It's a literal snapshot of an entire century, an entire people. They will never be forgotten. The probe will be discovered and their lives will be resurrected. Someone or something will have a complete soundtrack to remember them by –"

"Clarke!" Madi's excited voice calls from the rover. She must have just woken up from her nap. She would be expecting dinner soon. Looks like Clarke would have to end this conversation prematurely.

"But, who will remember us?"

She ends with her usual "Clarke out" and gives Bellamy her coordinates hoping, just hoping, that her words are not lost to the void. Up there, circling Earth, she hopes he – or someone – is listening.

. . .

"Madi," Clarke was unable to mask her concern. Her voice broke as she spoke the young nightblood's name. "Grab my sniper rifle, hurry."

Madi darted off towards the rover as Clarke dropped to the ground, the valley below fully within view. That wasn't Becca's pod spewing fire. No, the ship couldn't even be called a pod, let alone be mistaken for one. It was huge – a metal goliath four times the size of the dropship.

Hissing and spitting, the ship began its slow descent, five landing gears unfolding from within the belly. Whoever was driving the ship was obviously a skilled pilot. It was difficult, coming in fast then whipping into circles like they did. The metal beast eventually touched ground without so much as baulking, flattening everything in its wake, trees, bushes, grass and other undergrowth.

For the first time in six years, Clarke had hope. Could it be Raven? Surely no one except her would be ballsy enough to pull a landing like that?

"Here," Madi ran and effortlessly skidded to the ground next to Clarke. "I loaded it for you – like you showed me."

She took the gun from her, raised it to eyelevel and looked through the scope. ELIGIUS CORPORATION, read the yellow and white decal on the side of the ship. Clarke shifted her focus lower, GAGARIN PRISONER TRANSPORT. English, the words were in common tongue. The ship – or whatever it was – had to be manmade.

"Is it them?" Madi whispered. Clarke lowered the rifle and met the nightblood's curious gaze. In her beanie and one-size-too-big gloves, the fifteen year old looked her fifteen years. Wide-eyed and bursting with barely contained excitement, she looked how Clarke felt the day her dad introduced her to Wells Jaha. She looked innocent, vulnerable. "Is it?"