The infirmary lights had been dimd, casting everything in soft blues and grays. Luca sat hunched beside Emily's dical pod, his face illuminated by the glow of vital sign readouts, turning his skin an ethereal shade that matched the pallor of hers beneath the glass canopy.
His eyes burned from lack of sleep, and his muscles ached from hours in the sa position, but he couldn't bring himself to move, not when each shallow breath she took seed like it might be her last.
Eight hours. That's how long she'd been in there, sealed away in that clear coffin while machines pushed fluids and dications through her veins.
The door hissed open behind him. Joey's footsteps were soft but deliberate as he approached, a small tallic cartridge clutched in his hand.
"How is she?" Luca asked without turning around, the question automatic now after so many check-ins.
"Better than an hour ago," Joey replied, moving to the pod's control panel. "Her white blood cell count's stabilizing. Temperature's down to 37.8, uh... 100.2. The bleeding's slowed but hasn't stopped completely. That's why I brought this."
He held up the cartridge, its silver casing catching the blue light. "Vascular Repair Cartridge," he explained, sliding it into a port on the side of the pod. "This'll fix those busted capillaries, stop the nosebleeds."
The pod humd softly as it accepted the new dication. Through the transparent canopy, Luca watched Emily's chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven rhythms. Her face was waxy and still, dark circles beneath her closed eyes. Dried blood still clung to the corners of her nostrils despite Joey's careful cleaning. She looked broken. Small. Nothing like the fierce, vibrant woman who'd sat on his lap in the lounge just two days ago.
"Why her?" Luca asked, the question that had been eating at him since the shelter. "We all got the sa dose. Why is she the only one who..."
Joey sighed, checking the dical readout before answering. "Hard to say for certain. Could be genetic factors, previous exposure we don't know about." He hesitated. "Or it could just be bad luck. Radiation's unpredictable."
"Bullshit," Luca growled, the word sharper than he'd intended. "There has to be a reason."
"Look," Joey said, his voice softening with understanding. "Sotis we don't get nice, neat explanations. Ryan's got a mild headache. Chris collapsed from heat exhaustion and dehydration. Danny's developing a rash on his arms. Everyone's showing different symptoms."
"Even Chris is back on his feet," Joey added, almost smirking. "Not that he'd ever admit he fainted."
"But they're all conscious," Luca countered. His hand rested on the glass of the pod, inches from Emily's still form. "They're all walking and talking."
The dical pod beeped as the cartridge contents began flowing into Emily's system. Joey checked the display, nodding with satisfaction.
"Her vascularity is already showing improvent," he said. "The cartridge contains ds specifically designed for radiation damage."
Luca watched as the numbers on the display shifted slightly, vital signs showing marginal improvents. "How long?"
"For full recovery? Still another five or six hours," Joey said. "But give it two, maybe three more hours and she'll start waking up from the sedatives. She'll be tired and sore, but she'll bounce back quick. No permanent damage."
Luca felt his shoulders relax. "Six hours? That's nothing. We've been traveling two months. What's one more day?"
"So we're delaying planetfall?"
"Of course we are." Luca leaned back in his chair. "Until she's ready. This is her mont too. Besides, what's a little radiation poisoning between friends, right?"
Joey placed a hand on Luca's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Her body took a hit, but honestly, it's not as bad as we thought. She's responding really well to treatnt. Cardiovascular, immune, neurological systems... they're all bouncing back fast. The ds are taking, and her scans are clean. Brain, organs, everything looks solid. She's doing great, Luca."
Luca stared at Emily through the glass, morizing every detail of her face. The light freckles across her nose. The curve of her lips, slightly parted as she breathed.
"Will she wake up soon?" he asked softly.
"Like I said—two hours, give or take, but every case is different." Joey replied, checking another monitor. "She's stable. She's gonna be fine."
Luca nodded. "She's always been a fighter."
Joey moved around the pod, making small adjustnts to various settings. "Give it a bit and she'll be groggy but talking. Probably complaining."
"Good," Luca said with a tired smile. "I'd kill for a sarcastic comnt right about now."
Joey's expression softened. "The brain scans are clean. No signs of neurological damage. Once she wakes up, she'll be weak for a few days, but all indications point to a full recovery."
Relief washed over Luca, so powerful it made him dizzy. He braced himself against the pod, eyes closing briefly. "Thank God."
Joey checked the last of the readings before stepping back. "I'm going to grab so coffee. You want so?"
Luca shook his head. "I'm good."
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"You should get so rest," Joey advised. "You look like hell."
"Later," Luca said, his eyes already back on Emily.
Joey sighed but didn't argue. "I'll be back in twenty minutes to check her progress." He paused at the door. "She's stable, Luca. You did everything right."
When Joey left, Luca pressed his palm against the glass, studying her peaceful face. Even pale and recovering from radiation poisoning, she was so goddamned cute it made his chest ache. All those conversations he'd been aning to have with her, all the things he'd been working up the courage to say...
"Hey, Em," he whispered. "Take your ti. New Dawn's not going anywhere, and neither are we."
Her only response was the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Luca took one last look at Emily's peaceful face, then forced himself to stand. The crew was waiting.
The Triumph of Darron orbited Proxima Centauri b, its engines maintaining their familiar thrumming rhythm; a constant white noise that had beco the soundtrack to their two-month journey. Looking out at the planet hanging in the void like a massive, swirling marble of reds and blues was nothing short of breathtaking. They'd done it. They'd actually fucking done it.
"Alright, crew," Luca called out, his voice carrying across the bridge with newfound authority. "Final briefing ti. History's waiting for us down there."
The crew gathered quickly, their movents sharp with anticipation. But as they assembled, Luca felt Emily's absence like a missing piece of the puzzle. His XO should be here, sliding into her usual spot with that confident nod she always gave him before important briefings.
Joey had assured him she'd be fine. A full recovery and no permanent damage. But damn, he missed her. Just a couple more hours and she'd be awake. Emily had a way of reading the room, of catching details he might miss. She was his anchor in monts like this.
"This is it," Luca continued, pushing through the montary uncertainty. "Proxima Centauri b. We're about to beco the first humans to set foot on an alien world." The words sent electricity through the air. No matter how many tis he said it, the reality still felt surreal.
Zoe stepped forward, her dreads catching the light from the navigation displays. "Probes are prepped and locked. I'll handle deploynt and initial teletry." She spoke with the kind of calm confidence that ca from knowing your shit inside and out.
"Outstanding," Luca replied, feeling the familiar rhythm of command settling into place. "Danny, Ryan, you both handle sensor calibration. I want detailed atmospheric readings, surface composition, everything we can get before we crack the seals."
Danny was already moving toward his station, his red curls catching the light. "On it, Luca. Full spectrum analysis coming online now."
Ryan cracked his knuckles with a grin, following close behind. "Been waiting two months for this mont. Let's see what this rock's made of." He paused, glancing toward the exit that led to the infirmary levels. "How's Emily doing? Joey said she was responding well to treatnt?"
Luca felt a familiar tightness in his chest at the question. "She's stable. Should be waking up in the next couple hours."
"Good," Ryan said, and there was genuine relief in his voice. "She'd kill us if we made first contact without her."
Zoe looked up from her navigation console, her expression softening. "I'm going to head down and check on her after we get the probe data. Help her get back on her feet when she wakes up."
"She'd appreciate that," Luca said, grateful for the friendship between the two won. Emily would need that support when she ca around.
"Chris, you're on atmospheric processing. The mont we get probe data, I want to know if we can breathe down there or if we're suiting up."
"Copy that," Chris called from his station, already running preliminary calculations. "Recording everything for the history books."
The bridge humd with focused activity as the crew settled into their positions. Danny and Ryan locked onto their console like their lives depended on it, faces illuminated by cascading sensor data. Danny's usual easy-going deanor had been replaced by intense focus while Ryan's characteristic grin spread wider with each passing second.
"Probes ready for deploynt," Zoe announced, her voice cutting through the focused tension.
Luca straightened, feeling the weight of command and the thrill of discovery rge into sothing electric. "Deploy all probes. Let's light up this world."
The Triumph shuddered almost imperceptibly as the first probe launched, followed by two more in quick succession. On the external displays, they appeared as bright specks racing toward the planet's surface, cutting through Proxima Centauri b's upper atmosphere and leaving bright trails against the alien sky.
"Probes away," Zoe confird, and Luca caught the edge of excitent bleeding through her professional composure. "Teletry looks good. First atmospheric contact in... thirty seconds."
Danny's fingers flew across his console as preliminary data began streaming in. "Sensors are locked and loaded. Ti to get our first taste of alien atmosphere."
Ryan leaned over his shoulder, watching the readings populate in real-ti. "Initial data coming through... holy shit, this is incredible." He glanced up at Luca with wide eyes. "Captain, you need to see this."
The probe data cascaded across the displays—atmospheric readings, magnetic field analysis, surface temperature fluctuations. It was humanity's first glimpse into the secrets of another world, and Luca found himself holding his breath.
From her navigation station, Zoe suddenly straightened, her dark eyes widening as new data populated her screens. "Danny, Ryan! Are you getting these atmospheric readings?"
Danny practically bounced in his chair, his excitent infectious. "Oxygen at twenty-one percent, nitrogen at seventy-eight..." His voice cracked slightly. "Guys, this atmosphere is remarkably similar to Earth's."
The bridge fell silent for a heartbeat as the implications sank in. An alien world with breathable air. It was the kind of discovery that redefined everything.
Ryan let out a low whistle, his grin widening. "Well I'll be damned. The universe just rolled out the red carpet for us."
Luca felt a sharp pang of regret that Emily wasn't here to witness this. As his XO, she should be the one coordinating secondary analysis, cross-referencing the data with their mission paraters. Soon, he told himself. She'd be back on her feet within hours.
"Let's not get carried away," Chris cautioned, though his voice betrayed his own excitent. "We still need comprehensive scans for toxins, pathogens, radiation levels. Breathable doesn't necessarily an safe."
"Agreed," Luca said, then voiced the question that had been burning in his mind since the probes launched. "What about portal signatures? Any unusual energy readings?"
Danny pulled up the energy analysis displays, his expression shifting to disappointnt. "Nothing, Captain. No portal signatures, no System energy fluctuations. Just... a normal planet."
The bridge went quiet again, but this ti the silence carried a different weight. They'd spent months preparing for this mission, following rumors and theoretical models that suggested Proxima b might be their next evolutionary step. The promise of portals, of advancing beyond humanity's current limitations, had driven everything.
"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Zoe offered, her voice thoughtful. "No portals ans no System interference. No level caps, no arbitrary restrictions. We could actually explore and colonize without fighting for our lives every step of the way."
Joey's voice crackled over the comm from the dical bay. "Don't go soft on now, Zoe. No portals doesn't equal paradise. Could be predators, diseases, or environntal hazards we've never seen before. Plenty of ways to die on an uncharted world."
Trust Joey to kill the mood, even from the infirmary where he was monitoring Emily's recovery. But looking at the data streaming across their screens: breathable atmosphere, stable magnetic field, surface temperatures within human tolerance. Luca couldn't help but wonder, how was this even possible?
The Triumph would stay put, of course. Built in the zero-g cradles of the Asteroid Belt, she was an orbital queen, not a gravity well wrestler. Trying to land this behemoth on a planet would be like trying to parallel park a whale. That's what the Percival was for.
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