By Morgan Hannah, Life & Style Editor
Rabbit is dead.
This wasn’t how everything was supposed to go. We were supposed to land smoothly, find my sister’s body—dead or alive, maybe even find some resources to make the mission more worthwhile for the Space Geographer way, and then return to the crew where I could allow myself some relief and maybe even the slightest amount of smug satisfaction. Instead, the away mission shuttle is half buried in sand, the hull squeezed up like a child wringing out a juice box for the last few drops, and Ensign Rabbit is pinned between her control console and a massive panel of hull that ripped free during our descent.
Right away it was clear there was no way to remove the broken ship from around her broken body without causing further damage, and by damage, I mean a fast flooding of blood. But that wasn’t even the worst part. Rabbit roused from unconscious and with a groan the likes of someone suffering from a bad headache, she spat up blood in an impossible series of Rorschach tests, as if she were a psychologist and I her crazy patient.
“It’s okay Ensign, I’ll figure out a way to get us out of this. Maybe I can get in touch with Jorbes…” My eyes frantically dance across her body, taking in the slow leak of blood, the pale skin, the terrified and angry eyes.
“Captain… I know that I’m done. There’s—uhh—there’s no way I’m walking out of here.” Shaking my head, I run to the emergency kit and take out a jet injector and the water supply.
“Let’s just start with 50cc’s of OTC pain medication and a damp rag against your skin.” I press the jet injector to Rabbit’s neck, the hiss of medication doesn’t provide the ease I stupidly anticipated and that’s when it really hits me: I’ve lost control. I’ve allowed myself to become so completely consumed by my obsession of finding my sister and this time it hasn’t just affected me. Malory’s most likely dead. It’s been a long time, too long of a time, since anyone’s last heard from her or seen her—I should’ve just listened to the many people who tried to tell me this, but I had to find out for myself what everyone, including myself already knew.
“I, I’m so sorry, Ensign—“
“I don’t. Need your apology, Captain…” Rabbit breathes out each word from between red-stained teeth, “I just. Wish you had. Listened. M—Malory, she’s… I hope you find what. You’re looking for.” Rabbits body collapses against the helm and it grows quiet in the remains of the ship.
Continuation of this exciting adventure next week!
