>> Additional footage from harrier ALISON KHEELY is still in the process of being recovered
>> File recovered from camera registered to harrier ARET
>> ERROR: No uncorrupted files currently available on harrier ARET
>> Play?
>> ...
>> Confirmed. Now playing Mission Log #10
The fog is still thick outside the Piket Rock biodome, blue light scattered through the water particles in the air contrasting heavily against the red dirt beneath the sled.
The harnesses of the freighter dragons clink and jingle quietly to one side, while the ranger’s voice comes from the other.
“Mm. Turnin’ on your camera, huh?”
It couldn’t have been more than thirty-some minutes since the others had left, but for Aret it had felt like an eternity in her own personal hell. The only thing that kept her from assuming that hours had passed was the fact that the fog hadn’t burned off yet.
The ranger, who had been so quiet and unwilling to interact the entire time they’d known each other, had become a chatterbox in the absence of any other noise.
He just wouldn’t shut up, and to make matters worse actually communicating with the buffoon appeared impossible. He didn’t seem to know sign language, nor did he show any ability to figure out what she was trying to tell him. She’d given up on it after about ten minutes.
She’d settled in to keep a lookout for Maven and the others, but her efforts were fruitless thusfar. The fog was still thick, obscuring visual and audio queues that might have helped her. Even if it hadn’t been there, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to concentrate anyway. Not with the ranger around. He’d settled against the rail of the sled at a respectful distance away, looking off into the mist.
“It’s nice bein’ around someone that’s quiet. Sometimes a man just needs time to sit and think, y’know? Oh. And ladies too, of course.” He tipped his head towards her. “Impossible to think with those four bickering all the time. All that noise. You get it.”
Oh, she got it alright. She tried to keep a straight face, but mostly she wished she hadn’t slipped Maven her knife before she left. At least then she could speak a language the ranger understood. He fell quiet for a few seconds, and she used the blessed silence to scan the surrounding desert.
She was almost certain she could make something out in the fog, a figure moving past them, but—
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Author's Notes to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.