Windy Ridge
"Cygnus touchdown in 30", cited Ellwood calmly into his headset for history's sake knowing that no one would hear it for weeks.
Having been awakened four days ago he still felt weak and a little woozy, but setting eyes on the Swan provided enough adrenaline to overcome such trivialities. The blue orb glowed in it's ink black surroundings and his eyes darted to take it all in before his one way trip was over and he'd never see such sights again. "When you are a planet named after a constellation, you gotta be good", he quipped to himself.
The Rocinante pierced the atmosphere with a fiery roar that baptized the ship and ended all possibilities of communication with Earth simultaneously.
Another jolt as the reverse rockets fired adding to the cacophony that was his tiny world for the moment, ten NASCAR races combined couldn't mimic the din. Ever so slowly the descents' speed was lessened until that spine shrinking final blast, the hover, and then touchdown. All was silent except for his breathing which he had to urge because his body seemingly had forgotten to do it on its own.
Test probes had reported air that was breathable, too late to worry about that now so Ellwood unscrewed his helmet and tossed it aside, unless he would need a fishbowl later it was useless now. He took two deep breaths as he stared at the hatch. The hatch that would open to a new world, his new world. One final thought hit him as he reached for the door to the rest of his life, 'did I leave the oven on?'....
Windy Ridge
"Cygnus touchdown in 30", cited Ellwood calmly into his headset for history's sake knowing that no one would hear it for weeks.
Having been awakened four days ago he still felt weak and a little woozy, but setting eyes on the Swan provided enough adrenaline to overcome such trivialities. The blue orb glowed in it's ink black surroundings and his eyes darted to take it all in before his one way trip was over and he'd never see such sights again. "When you are a planet named after a constellation, you gotta be good", he quipped to himself.
The Rocinante pierced the atmosphere with a fiery roar that baptized the ship and ended all possibilities of communication with Earth simultaneously.
Another jolt as the reverse rockets fired adding to the cacophony that was his tiny world for the moment, ten NASCAR races combined couldn't mimic the din. Ever so slowly the descents' speed was lessened until that spine shrinking final blast, the hover, and then touchdown. All was silent except for his breathing which he had to urge because his body seemingly had forgotten to do it on its own.
Test probes had reported air that was breathable, too late to worry about that now so Ellwood unscrewed his helmet and tossed it aside, unless he would need a fishbowl later it was useless now. He took two deep breaths as he stared at the hatch. The hatch that would open to a new world, his new world. One final thought hit him as he reached for the door to the rest of his life, 'did I leave the oven on?'....