“Nobody is coming for you, Roc.” he says into my ear, sweetly, as a lover would. “Do you understand my friend? You’re all alone. You’ve got nobody but me.” I know his voice. We’re friends. I think we’re friends. Yes, we’re friends. It’s hard to focus. My mind is fluid, drifting aimlessly. My body is racked in pain, a constant searing numbness, if there is such an oxymoron.

“Tell me what they’re planning, Roc. Tell me the plans of the Tribes.” I am a Vorshud Major in the Tribal Liberation Force, proud to serve the Minmatar Republic. I have earned my rank with sweat, blood and tears; far too many of each. And yet I have no idea what he is talking about.

He stands in front of me, over me, his arms on my arms, his face smiling serenley at me, eternal patience shining from his eyes. “Do you understand what I am saying, Roc? Do you understand my words?”

“Just because I don’t care doesn’t mean I don’t understand.” I reply smugly through broken teeth in a bloodied mouth. He straightens at that comment, the joy washed from his face. That in and of itself gives me great satisfaction. Amateur.

“Sir? Major Wieler sir?” My attention snaps back to the present. My Science Officer is addressing me, an expectant look on his face. I totally missed what he said. I let the silence hang in the air for a few more moments, feigning thoughtful contemplation, hoping the quiet awkwardness will make him repeat himself. I am not disappointed.

“Sir, they need to know. The survey team’s report confirms Aura’s readings. Breathable, but hostile environment, day temperature in the negative fifties, no hostile lifeforms. No lifeforms at all. Next orders?”

“Alright. Get the other teams prepped. We’re going out there.” This whole thing is probably all one big wild goose chase. Who the hell chases a goose anyway? Still, if there’s even a small chance we succeed, it will be worth it for all of us.