GM IC:"Welcome to Proxima Centauri, ladies and gentlemen."
The Captain spoke into his pickup, adjusting the brim of his hat. Across the bridge officers and ratings tended to their duties, coaxing the
Pandora's mammoth hull to lower and lower speeds as they slipped into a geosynchronous orbit above the planet. Unlike the scientists and pilots waking up within her hull the
Pyxis' essential crew were showing the wear of the journey. Even in rotations all of them had cumulatively lived a few years of the journey and their satisfaction reflected it.
He savored the moment for a moment, nodding his own satisfaction, continued.
"We are, all of us, further from Earth than any human being has ever been in orbit around a planet no human has ever set foot on inside a system no other soul has ever seen with their own eyes. There can be no overstating it. Each and every one of us has earned a place in the history books already. Humanity's first real stride into the stars." He leaned back in his chair, fixing his eyes on the view outside the ship. "I know such an usual mission has required an unusual crew. An unusual craft. Unusual standards. We're aboard a United Nations ship integrated into a civilian craft, carrying pilots detached from military service and civilians both. Every department feels that mix. Some of you haven't had long at all to settle into your crews, and it may feel strange after so much time. Some of you feel like you left minutes ago. Some of you years."
"All of you can feel the pride in this moment."
"But," His voice dropped, growing serious. "None of you can let it disarm you."
The planet below appeared on every nonessential screen aboard, the first glimpse they would all see of the world they had traveled so far to explore.
"Proxima Centauri b, operationally designated Kitezh until further notice. Breathable atmosphere, livable temperatures on most of the surface and extant lifeforms. This is what we've come for. Our first recon team touches down in less than an hour. First survey team will be taking one of the dropshops to the surface under Orbital escort. Combat conditions assumed, people, until I say otherwise. Helmets stay on, no one touches
anything without the team leader's say so, and no one relaxes until they're off the clock."
"Report to your department heads, people, and as of now all pilots are to report to the hangar. Commanding Officer Orbital Operations will handle any additional information."
***
"Glad to be aboard, Mr. Cross." Artemie said cheerfully, following the others towards the hangar and listening attentively to the briefing. Nothing she hadn't really expected, so far.
Ghosthands
Plank Sinatra
UltimoScorp
The World
