By Morgan Hannah, Life & Style Editor
Sitting in silence by myself, tears staining my skin, and knees slowly sinking in vermillion sand. I try not to give remote, caustic, hateful thoughts that come up any attention. But, like landmarks of a terrible relationship, they disturb me. I can see exactly where my obsession, my unhappiness, and my guilt have brought distress or, at the very least, inconvenience to those around me. In a position of authority, it was easy to get my way, too.
It’s always after the fact that we realize our mistakes or misgivings—when we can no longer do anything about them beyond moving past it. In my case it seems as though I can’t do much of that either. Without a ship, I am stuck on a foreign planet. Without a power supply, I cannot send a distress signal to my crew. That was a rookie mistake—a fatal flaw that could cost me my life. It should cost me my life… The dark thought leaks into my head and floats around for a while. I know it’s not helpful, and I know it’s untrue, but I can’t help it. I can’t shake it. Ensign Rabbit didn’t deserve to die. I didn’t know much about her, but if—I mean, when I get back to the ship, I’ll make every effort to learn all I can about her. I’ll have the ship’s ambassador throw her a proper Space Geographer goodbye, one full of honour.
Now, it’s only a matter of time before my crew plans a rescue mission. I can only hope they have more success than we had. In the meantime, I’m here; I’m finally on Xexon, the planet that swallowed up my sister whole. It’s time to explore, to learn, and to hopefully find her. But before I can do anything, a scrabbling sound—like that of a creature waddling through the sand—slips into the ship. My breath tightens in my throat and I instinctively reach down at my hip for my phaser.
Continuation of this exciting adventure next week!