In Flanders fields

Warm welcome, part I

Alec's POV:

There it is... I didn't think I would ever see it again. Earth. Last time I saw it, it was from the smallest and dirtiest and dingiest window at the back of a ship. I think it's fairly natural to see her again for the first time from the biggest cleanest window of all: from the front deck.

I was fourteen at the time, and I still remember the planet darkening after we exited the atmosphere. I thought, with my young and overactive imagination, that the planet would collapse on itself, but it was not so... Now here I am, commanding the aptly named Freeing Eden to land for the first time in a decade on Earthen soil.

At the age of eighteen, seven years ago, I joined the military, and I have been climbing the ranks since. Of course it helped that my best friend was the famous General Jones, the greatest strategist in the war since he was recruited at the age of sixteen and only a year or two older than I. His competitive streak, next to mine gave me ample opportunity to polish my skills of the mind and body. When we first came to Mars it was adventuring: which one will arrive at the top of that mountain of hill first, which one will learn a whole other language first, such things. He was best at honing his mind, and I, my body, hence our arrangement: he's stuck with the desk job, and I with the manual labor, the grunt job.

No one knows we are best friends apart from family and close friends, it wouldn't do, people would think I used him to skip ranks, but I fought in the war for two years until it ended five years ago and earned my upgrades fair and square. 

We became best buds on the Fall of Eden, I was alone, my family already gone and my parents were left down on Earth, and he had left a little sibling, so I just filled the hole in his family. 

Now I am going to Earth.

We had sent a message to the people on Earth explaining the end of the war and that we were coming to fetch them, but I don't think they'll be happy we wasted so much time fighting instead of getting them out. I guess we'll find out.

"Prepare for entry"

"Friction shield, engaged"

"Decelerators, ready."

"All baggage and personnel, secured"

The list went on and on...

"Breach, opened!"

"Entry in ten, nine, eight, seven, six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Ze-"

The ship suffered a massive shock from the sudden deceleration, cutting off the pilot.

Visibility was close to nil, but that won't deter us. Thunder roared around us, lightning licked the surface of the ship, glancing off the hull harmlessly. The ship trembled more, groaning and moaning from the force of the reentry. Our eyes were riveted on our respective screen or the beautiful yet slightly more frightening display of electricity visible on every window. This spectacle ended quickly as we had passed the altitude the lightning gathered at, leaving us to admire an other sight, or lack thereof: the ground. Indeed, the computers were continuously informing us of the proximity of the ground we would land on based on current trajectory thanks to a multitude of tests (laser, sound...), relayed diligently by Ensign Johnson, and if they were correct, which they moat probably are, then we should be able to see the ground below us, no matter the lack of visibility: the power of the lights used topside would be visible from here. Yet we can see nothing. Just pitch darkness, comparable to the black of space, only with no stars or sun or anything really.

Thankfully, my crew was well trained, and didn't loose their cool. Given that we have no reason to believe the ground level had changed in the last decade or so, and we have no information by eyesight...