Hanner | Survival Dice Roleplay

[0stinato]

What makes a planet habitable? What gives a chunk of rock the ability to support natural life? What is the mix of ingredients that allows intelligent life to

--S.O.S.--Colonist Ship Spectrum 7 distress beacon--Message: S.O.S. Biofuel Explosion Compromised Ship Stern and Hull, Urgent Assistance Required.--

flourish, if even by sheer chance? The Goldilocks Zone is not a name that goes without being recognised by the average person. Earth [Milky Way] is one of these few and far-flung planets in a perfect Goldilocks Zone, only by chance. Approximately 150 million kilometres, those who walk its face are able to do so with utmost certainty that their tomorrow will come. Compare that to Kollar [Messier 82, Cigar Galaxy], a planet that enters the Goldilocks zone for approximately 50 years out of its orbital period of approximately 140. This also happens by chance, but Kollar's rock face is as dead as its moons'. Life is not

--S.O.S.--Colonist Ship Spectrum 7 distress beacon--Message: S.O.S. Biofuel Explosion Compromised Ship Stern and Hull, Urgent Assistance Required.--

able to spring up on Kollar - there is simply no time. Precious billions of years is necessary to bring life up to Earth's standard. Not a measly 50 years. To find another Earth is rare. To find another Kollar is simply easy.

But this planet is yet another in the Goldilocks Zone. Orbiting around one star, a star that we have named Centurion [Messier 74, Phantom Galaxy], this planet sits at the perfect distance from Centurion for life to form. Since Centurion is duller than Earth's Sun, this planet is approximately 25 million kilometres closer to Centurion than Earth is to the Sun. However, initial observation essentially confirms the existence of life on

--S.O.S.--Colonist Ship Spectrum 7 distress beacon--Message: S.O.S. Uncompromised Drop Pods Preparing for Ejection Towards Messier 74's Habitable Planet Hanner. Less than 10% of Crew Expected to Survive.--

Hanner, and its potential in being a planet similar to Earth. Hanner's geology seems similar, though it must be noted more of Hanner is covered by land in comparison to Earth. Earth's land coverage is a third of its surface. Hanner's land coverage is 45%. Humans would be able to survive happily on Hanner, it is believed, but hopefully more research will be conducted before Colonist Ship Spectrum 7 is set to dock there this year in 2790.

-Characters-​

This is Hanner.
Or, at least, the part you can see.
How do you feel? What else can you see?
And, more importantly...
What will you do now you're here?

 

[Mr_DC]

"Yes!" Jeremiah exclaimed as his drop pod finally shut with a hiss of the airlock kicking in. The interior wasn't large. Like an outhouse. Perhaps an outhouse would have been better as Jeremiah would have had a place to relieve himself. The pod was just a tube with straps coming out of the wall for him to strap himself in with. Probably to survive in case the landing gets too rough. Speaking of which...

Feeling a rumble go through the pod - and possibly the ship - Jeremiah wrapped himself in the quad straps and leaned against the pod behind him. "Hail Mary, full of grace..." His lips moved. "Our Lord is with thee..." Perhaps some of his flock were saying those exact words as the colony ship was blowing apart. The small flock he managed to gather on the short trip. Most of them were going mad from the trip or simply feeble-minded but they were a flock none-the-less. They would have been a good starter for his church in the new the colony. Now, though...

"Blessed art thou among women..." Jeremiah's eyes opened for a second as the pod shook violently once more before he lost the feeling of being grounded. He felt as if he was floating. The feeling of nausea was tolerable at worst. He felt as if he was being lifted up. Taken into the kingdom of God as he was meant to be. All his work back on Earth was appreciated. He was worthy of everlasting life. "And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus..."

And then it turned. Jeremiah felt the tug on his body, dragging him down. Was he wrong? Was he going to hell? Not enough of his flock on Earth sacrificed themselves for this? Could it be? His eyes blinked rapidly. The pod would open up to a burning, hellish landscape where none shall survive. The pod would crash straight through the ground and burrow into the depths of hell because he did not as he was supposed to. "Holy Mary, Mother of God..."

Jeremiah spoke through his teeth as he felt a tug on the pod. He didn't feel like the pod would melt away or go to his final destination. It was the hand of God. God was slowing it down. Providing Jeremiah with a second chance. There were bound to be more survivors of the colony ship. Along with Jeremiah, they would be the new church. The church Jeremiah was promised when he boarded the colony ship.

"Pray for us sinners, now and..." The pod landed with a thump. Sucking in a deep breath through his teeth, Jeremiah grinned. A second chance to bring the word of God to those who haven't heard it yet. To provide guidance to the lost. To be the sword of justice to the sinners. "At the hour of our death..." Jeremiah finished unbuckling his straps and punched the red button on the inside of the pod, making the door fly out.

The sight was unbelievable. Rolling, green hills. Blue skies with perfect white clouds. The air fresh and clean. And, best of all - his new flock. Dozens of pods falling down to the ground. Some slowed down by parachutes, some burning out, destined to crash for they have not been judged worthy of the great plan.
Jeremiah nodded in satisfaction. "Amen."

 

[Osthavula]

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name, ..."

Agate clasped her hand, quietly muttered the prayer, as the world outside of her pot was cracking, burning, crumbling into pieces. She alone, strapped, praying, watching into the little space in front of her. Well, what she could see from her piece of white cloth covering her eyes. She could see clearer than the others see her. But it wouldn't matter for a while. Depending on where this escape pod would land, it might never matter at all that how clear she would see things.

Still, she said the prayer that was taught by the nuns, the one that she muttered rather quietly, monotonically, as she awaited her fate. She couldn't say exactly if she really was religious, up until now it was all ambiguous. But it provided a habit, and with habit, comfort. The fire, they are not at all an unfamiliar scene to her. Metals and wood breaking, along with many things buried in the rubbles, moaning with their suffering, as they... No. Don't remember those.

But deeper, darker thoughts crept up to her. Her skin itched under the cloth she sanitized. The horror came thinking that if this pod landed horribly and the white cloth was burned away from her skin.... No. Don't think those.

"...And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. ..."

The line in the prayer she couldn't get herself to like. That man left such a mark on her after all. At least he wouldn't be at where she is heading. Maybe she'll forgive...

No. She can't. She remembered. She remembered...

As she prayed that the moment of she and her thoughts alone would be over, it did. The landing sent her pulling up her straps, and she winced before unbinding herself, walking onto a place where there was unbelievably large uninhabited land. Almost like Eden as her nun spoke of. The sight made her stood in awe before the other people entered her mind.

She uncomfortably shifted her hand in her glove. Please, Lord if you hear.... She prayed inside. Please don't make me shake hands...

But she lived. For another day. It was a start, no matter how good or bad it would go, Agate was to serve some purpose in the Lord's will.... If He indeed exists in the vast galaxy.

 

[0stinato]

The will of a cockroach binds itself to survival. Its back, a perfect shell of indestructible with the sweet qualities of malleability. The legs rejuvenate if damaged. The eyes scan for movement, and the whole thing flees to its hiding place to continue that survival.

Kimberly "Roach" reckoned there must be cockroaches on the ship, but no one had ever seen them. Nor had she seen evidence of them, but her second thoughts told her that surely, surely, they must be somewhere. But, unlike the little things, she had a brain in her head. She'd been suspicious of something when their secondary Navigator had pointed out the ship's speed three days ago; it had slowed somewhat. Instead of swimming along through the cosmos, the ship seemed lethargic at best. She knew she should have checked with the fuel data.

She knew she should have.

Roach couldn't hang around hating for long, and she was one of the first to react when the warning went up. No standing around waiting for the warning to finish, her gut feeling was getting the better of her. So she shot away from the Navigation room, brushing paperwork off the desks as she ran.

Wait for the others? She should have, perhaps she should have. They'd have listened to her. If she'd told them about her instinct regarding the fuel, they'd have listened.

1
Yes, they'd have asked "why do you feel like this?" and she'd have explained.
3
Even if one of them was sceptical, likely they'd not speak against the Head Navigator's thoughts.
1
It was the fire in the Titanic all over again. If she'd told someone of her suspicion...
3
...perhaps she'd not be running so quickly and...
2
...leaving her colleagues behind in a desperate bid to...
4
...be like the cockroach and simply survive...

The door hastily parted for her, she stepped in, she strapped in, the door closed. Red flashing light above her head. Both hands on the harness around her breasts. Trembling lip being reflected in the glass; glass that had never even been breathed on from this side.

It was released. Not weightless, but forced into a trajectory. A digital display repeated the co-ordinates. She knew as well as everyone else in the Navigation department knew that these co-ordinates were solid land. Hanner.

She spoke softly. To herself.

There was no one else to hear a word.

So it was to herself. And only herself.



Roach knew what she'd said. When it was done. When it was over.

But damned if she would repeat a flaming word of it to anyone, dead or alive. Damned if she was. Damned if she was.

 

[Osthavula]

It was easy, really. All it took was a few faster sprint and the closing of the door, and she was sent away, watching as her target cursed, face twisted in his final horror. She watched, face neutral, but as soon as she saw the rest of the ship burst into flames she too muttered some curse words. She was not to be paid, whoever hired her was on the ship too, and she doubted the man could really fit inside an escape pod.

And she was going to paid in grand sum, enough to not worry for the coming years. Well, coming year of alcohol and maybe a nice mansion as a hideout. But now she just suffered a long boring space trip and finished her job for no pay at all. And depending on her destination, her career was left in ruin too.

Not like she took pleasure in her job anyway.

She checked that both her daggers were in their sheath strapped to herself, and her leather armour still looked in good condition. Then she waited, disgruntled but patiently, as the pod shook in its travel. She thought of her parents who were no longer there, and how there was nothing she missed too much anyway. The only thing remotely close was her beer pal Tommy who owed her a few coins, but that one never give back his money anyways and she didn't expect any return.

She was so bored that she was just counting numbers when the pod finally entered somewhere. Somewhere green, somewhere ... Empty.

It's pretty and all, but she wasn't all that excited. Already she was thinking how to defend herself should anything appeared nearby. And who knows, maybe it was all illusion and she would land in a pile of hot sand.

That was a pleasant thought, actually. She narrowed her eyes in thought as she braced for impact. That'll be like home.

She hit the button with a closed fist and released herself outside of the suffocating closed space. Immediately her attention was turned towards the other pods landing in the same place. Another look, she knew her employer wasn't here. No one was nearly big enough.

"What a day. " She said to the nun close to her. Was she blind? Her eyes were covered in a veil that was not really transparent, and she jumped, hand clutching each other. It didn't seem like she actually wanted interaction, or at the very least she was startled by her greetings.

"Ah, sorry sorry, I don't mean any harm." Theruvial waved with a grin, internally cursing at the bad start of the conversation. "Just thought I should greet and all. "

Then she tilted her head back at the unending green field. That meant very likely her old profession was no longer of use here, and she had to work with the others to make a life here. No markets to purchase food, no shelter, nothing provided at all besides the equipment she had.

She could do with a pint... But obviously, there weren't any bars.

 

[0stinato]

If there was one person desperate to leave the cramped interior of the pod, it was her. With the teasing air just inches from her face, Etti had pressed herself to the small window at the top. Standing on tiptoe as the pod descended to Hanner's face, her heartbeat raced with trepidation and curiosity. Within her veins ran a dread-like desire, and she caught her heartbeat in her neck. Fingers tightened around reinforced steel, body strained against harness, but was she nervous? Rather the contrary - she was thrilled.

Finally! Free from that chunk of space-metal which was now nothing more than a horrifying memory with a greenhouse in its interior somewhere. Etti had slept in the greenhouse many a time, clinging hard to the imaginary garden she had. It was vegetables, grains, fruits as far as the artificial-light could show. For ages, miles, perhaps. No, not miles, that was improbable.

Twisting herself where she stood against the back wall of the pod, she stared at the digital display. At the moment it had finished displaying the co-ordinates (such as it had done in every other pod) and now was periodically updating the distance the pod still had to go.

It entered orbit. Things seemed to change. Etti felt heavier, almost, but not a problem. Corrugating her forehead was a frown of determination, slender eyebrows becoming ugly in their expression. But it meant nothing; no one could see her and she knew that, as soon as that heavy, restricting door opened to reveal the landscape and patterns of a Goldilocks planet, that unpleasant-looking green, moulding into browns and yellows... at least from where the Spectrum 7 was sat, a veritable God's eye between stars.

Distance was all well and good, but Etti had no clue how that translated to time. So all the minutes... hours...? spent strapped to the pod was sweat-worthy, until she entered orbit, until she felt the pod's rockets slow the descent drastically. The impact was still substantial, she knew but not as bad as it could have been.

And her hand on the lock was furious, and her palm was slick when she exited. So thrilled was she to step into the air that her mouth curved into an open smile while goosebumps dotted her neck.

The air was different from Spectrum 7's recycled crud, it was as if she was breathing in purity made physical, like the colour cyan was coating her lungs and refreshing her entire body. She was ecstatic.

Leaving the pod far behind, her legs felt the burn of the hill as she ascended it, wanting to get a better view of the place...

There were more pods here, though, and they ruined the landscape. But Etti wasn't about to let that ruin her mood. Here and there, people emerged; a lady in dark clothes, a lady in a veil, a lady wearing the navigation-crew jumpsuit. And her, standing there in a loose-fitting green short gown... the hems flapped around her thighs, only two straps held it over her shoulders. Not warm like that jumpsuit must be, she reckoned.

But the chill was welcomed. For this was the chill of reality. Of nature. Of something worth felling cold for.