Coralie Evans-Kane and Bellamy Blake. Iconic.
*
"We're going to make it today, alright? We're going to make it no matter what happens. We've made it this far," he takes her hand into his own. "Promise me that you won't give up."
"Bell-"
"Promise m...
Disclaimer: I (sadly) don't own The 100, which was created by Jason Rothenberg. GOOD JOB, Mister Rothenberg. - - - -
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- 10 - - Ark Take Two -
The radio had no signal.
Coralie sat on the steps in despair at the realization that she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her brother - and after she had promised that she'd make it back.
She wouldn't see him for the next five years and that was even if they'd managed to find life in space. She wiped a stranded tear that slid down her cheek, quickly standing up when Raven calls for everyone.
Everybody gathers around the large screen that broadcasted Polis, the temple over the bunker collapsing into rubble before the signal is lost yet again.
Coralie exhales.
"It's 210 miles from Polis to the island," Raven utters. "According to What was our last drone, the wave is accelerating. If we're not off the ground at least twenty minutes before it hits, the electromagnetic charge in the pyroclastic cloud will shut down the rocket's avionics, meaning it won't fly. That gives us ninety minutes to run a six-hour preflight check, retrieve the oxygen generator from the lighthouse, turn a cockpit designed for two into one that can carry ten and load the cargo hold with enough food to keep us from starving in space while we wait for the algae farm to bloom."
"I thought you said it was gonna be hard," Murphy mumbles.
"That's not the hard part," Raven mentions and Coralie's shoulders drop. "Becca designed her rocket to dock with Polaris, not the Ark. That means I have to pilot it into the hangar bay on the ring."
"What's so hard about that?" Ace asks.
"That's not the hard part, either."
"What is the hard part, Raven?" Coralie groans.
"Assuming we blast off in time, CO2 scrubbers on a two-person rocket won't support nine of us."
"So we use supplemental oxygen," Clarke suggests.
"Our tanks only hold an hour of air," Monty corrects.
"We'll have one hour to get into orbit, land in the hangar bay and fire up the life-support system using an oxygen generator built to supply a lighthouse bachelor pad."
"You suck at talking people into things. You know that, right?" Murphy throws his head back.
"Anyone here still need to be talked into this?" Bellamy questions aloud, only to receive a shake of heads. "Good. Now we know the many ways we might die today? Why don't you tell us what we have to do to live?"
