I WOKE UP EARLY, or rather I was woken up early—you can’t sleep with the sun in your face. I slept in the ship’s habitation quarters. A penthouse suite, which consisted of a cramped, single bunk, scullery, toilet and sonic shower. Beats sleeping outside in the cold. So, yes it did feel like a penthouse suite, but I’d left the cabin door open, hence the sunlight on my face.
Found a jetpack stored in the ship’s supply cabinet. Fits like a glove over my exosuit, but I’m too scared to use it. Maybe when I’m feeling more confident that I truly am a bird.
Who am I kidding?
I spent the rest of the day scavenging the landscape for resources. Fortunately, I was able to find fresh water and food. Specifically, mushrooms and some type of red potato plant. They both checked out as safe for consumption.
After lunch, I trekked out again. This time focusing only on the ship’s repair resources. By late afternoon I was about to give up, when I stumbled into a hole in the ground while investigating a sound.
I was distracted by an unusual noise and wasn’t paying attention where I was going. It sounded like a mating ritual. Have you ever heard a horny moose crying in the rutting season?
I’d fallen into a cavity and injured my knee and elbow, nothing serious just a few scrapes and bruises. I got to my feet, saw a few stars twinkling in front of me. Had I hit my head? I was wearing an environmental helmet, so I doubt it. Then I saw the deep blue sparkle, a vein of Heridium, actually a node of Heridium, which extruded out of the hole I was in. I began to mine in earnest.
After making a few round trips—my exosuit can only hold so much—it eventually got too dark and even with my helmet’s torch, it was just too dangerous. But I’d collected enough Heridium. Next morning Iron, that was in abundance.
By the following afternoon I’d crafted the Carite sheets I’d need and was well on the way to completing my repairs.
Except, I’d need Chrysonite. There were no blue crystalline extrusions anywhere, I’d need to scout further out and possibly camp further from my ship than I’d prefer, but I had no choice. If I ever intended to launch the ship, I’d need to first make a long track across a harsh, alien terrain. Time was running out, as were my supplies.
When we cannot act as we wish, we must act as we can.