Chapter 37 - The Ride Down

As I settled into the pilot’s seat, I ran through the pre-flight checks, flicking on the panels and different displays. The hum of the ship's systems coming online was reassuring, the fusion cells powering up with a gentle thrum that pulsed through the frame. I glanced at the viewscreen, where the docking clamps still held us securely to the Triumph, and took a deep breath. Beyond the bulk of the Triumph of Darron, the unexplored planet filled the view: deep crimson oceans reflecting the dim red light of Proxima Centauri, continents cloaked in dark, rust-colored vegetation, and swirling clouds painted shades of violet and maroon. It looked alien, surreal even, but the quiet beauty of the scene was tempered by the reality of the unknown dangers that might await them. And here we go.

"All systems green," Zoe reported, her voice calm despite the palpable tension. She was sitting in the co-pilot seat, right where Emily had been, just a couple of hours ago. I could still picture Emily there, all flushed and breathless. Now, Zoe was in her place, her dark dreadlocks framing her face as she glanced back at me, a confident smirk on her lips. I couldn't help but imagine her in the same position, her dark skin glistening with sweat, her eyes wide and wild. Damn it, fuck. I needed to focus. At least the smell is gone, I thought, grateful for small mercies. Hopefully, Zoe doesn't suspect anything. Though, if Joey's monitoring our vitals, he probably knows. Fuck.

I nodded, my fingers hovering over the controls, taking a steadying breath. My Tactical Navigation skills kicked in as I reviewed our descent path on the holographic display. The projected trajectory adjusted automatically based on atmospheric density readings, but I made a subtle manual correction, ensuring our landing zone stayed within an optimal margin of error. Just like I practiced. A thousand times. In the simulator, at least.

"Docking clamps ready to release on your mark, Captain," Zoe added, standing just beside me. Her hip brushed against my arm, and I had to suppress a shiver. Get it together, Luca.

"Alright," I said, flipping the intercom switch. "This is Luca. Prepare for undocking. We're heading down."

The docking clamps lifted the Percival gently, sliding it out of the Triumph’s hangar while the large door swung open. The smoothness of the mechanism allowed for stress-free deployment, a design I had insisted on during construction. At least I know I'm good for something.

"Releasing clamps," I announced, my voice steady. The dropship detached with a soft shudder, drifting free of the Triumph’s protective frame. For a brief moment, the Percival floated in space, weightless and still. Then, with a light touch on the controls, I engaged the engines. The hum of the fusion thrusters filled the cabin as we accelerated toward the planet’s surface.

"Engines are responding perfectly," Zoe noted, her sharp eyes scanning the readouts. "Course locked."

I felt the comforting weight of my Orbital Navigation skill as I fine-tuned their approach. I adjusted the vector-thrust systems slightly, the dropship responding with fluid precision. The thin upper atmosphere met them with a faint resistance, a shift that I instinctively countered. Just like breathing. Almost.

Zoe grinned, sensing my confidence. "We’re in good hands, Captain." She gave me a quick wink, and for a second, I could have sworn I saw a flash of something else in her eyes, something that looked a lot like... Nah, couldn't be. Could it?

The viewport offered a sweeping view of the planet below: vast red continents below the atmosphere bordered by deep blue oceans, swirled with wisps of white cloud. The dropship’s trajectory held steady, guiding us toward the open plateau that had been designated as our landing zone.

---

“Initiating descent sequence,” I announced, my hands steady on the controls, but my heart doing a frantic tap dance against my ribs. Around me, the crew strapped into their seats, running final checks. I could sense the nerves rippling through them, but also the anticipation, we were on the verge of something monumental. No pressure, Luca.

Through the cockpit glass, I caught sight of the Percival's twin energy miniguns retracting into their housings, the system humming faintly as it prepared for atmospheric entry. I didn’t anticipate needing the weapons on this descent, but it was standard procedure to keep them secure. They’d be a last resort if things went sideways after landing. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

"Ready for this?" I glanced at Zoe, seated beside me. She was working on the computer, fine-tuning our trajectory. Honestly, she was probably the better pilot. I could handle a ship, sure, but Zoe? She was something else. A natural. Me? I was more of a "by the book" kind of guy. Good thing she was here, just in case my skills weren't enough.

Zoe turned to me, her dark eyes sparkling with determination. "Born ready, Captain. Let's make history."

I chuckled, trying to shake off the nerves. “Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, my tone dropping into a mock-serious cadence. “This is your Captain speaking. Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Fasten your seat belts securely, and stow all carry-on luggage beneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you.” Nailed it.

The laughter that erupted from the cabin behind me was immediate and unrestrained. Even Zoe smirked, shaking her head as she returned her attention to the readouts. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to savor the levity. It wasn’t often we got to laugh like this, not with the weight of their mission looming over us.

---

As the dropship angled downward, I toggled the autopilot, watching as it took over to smooth out our descent, following Zoe’s preplanned route. Yeah, let the computer do the work. I'll just, uh, supervise. Outside, the Triumph of Darron loomed like a silent sentinel, its massive silhouette gradually receding against the endless expanse of stars. For a moment, it felt as though we were truly alone, just us and the planet below.

The soft chime of reentry alarms snapped me out of my thoughts. The cockpit lights shifted to a dim red, casting an eerie glow over the interior. It was a necessary adjustment, reducing glare and easing the strain on our eyes during the most intense part of atmospheric entry.

Through the cockpit glass, the planet’s curvature came into sharper focus. A thin line of atmosphere flickered faintly, a hint of blue dancing along its edges. Proxima Centauri b stretched out before us, a tantalizing mix of reds and purples, shrouded in swirling clouds. Showtime.

"Entering the atmosphere in T-minus 30 seconds," Zoe’s voice crackled through the my headset, calm and measured. "Brace for turbulence, folks."

I tightened my grip on the controls, taking a deep breath to steady myself. My atmospheric handling skills guided my instincts, but I couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety in my stomach. This was it. No turning back. The weight of responsibility pressed against my shoulders, but I welcomed it. This was what I was trained for, what I was born to do. Or so they told me.

As we plummeted through the alien sky, fire licking at the edges of our viewports, I felt the familiar weight of gravity return, pressing down on me like an unrelenting hand. The restraints dug into my chest, but I barely noticed. My focus was laser-sharp, fixed on the controls and the shifting numbers on the readouts. Adrenaline surged through me. This was it. We were really doing it.

A flicker of memory surfaced, childhood adventures in Sandworth, our ragtag group pretending to be heroes, and later, the harrowing battles against the monster hordes that had taken so many of our classmates. Those moments had shaped me, but nothing compared to this: humanity’s first expedition to another star system, and I was at the helm. No pressure.

Glancing around the cockpit, I checked out my crew, my friends, my family. Strapped into their seats, their faces betrayed a bit of fear and exhilaration. Joey muttered something to Ryan, earning a chuckle that cut through the tension, while Emily stared out the viewport with wide eyes, her fingers gripping her armrests. I wished I could see her face, know what she was thinking. Was she scared? Excited? Proud? Did she have any idea how much her faith in me meant?

My lips twitched into a faint smile. “Let’s do this,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else, my voice barely audible over the hum of the engines and the roar of atmospheric friction.

Beside me, Zoe’s hand found mine on the thruster, her touch firm yet grounding. "Let’s go," she said softly, her tone carrying both reassurance and shared determination. She gave my hand a quick squeeze, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew how much I needed that simple gesture. Did she know how much I doubted myself sometimes?

I nodded, exhaling slowly as I adjusted our descent vector. The ship shuddered, turbulence jostling us as if the planet itself was testing our resolve. Each vibration echoed through the cockpit, but my hands stayed steady on the controls. My Tactical Navigation instincts kicked in, guiding every motion, but even so, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that Zoe was here, her expertise a reassuring presence beside me.

“Altitude dropping rapidly,” Zoe announced, her voice clear and unwavering as she leaned forward. Her dreadlocks shifted slightly, catching the red light of the readouts. “Adjusting trajectory for optimal landing zone.”

“Roger that,” I replied, easing back on the throttle. I felt the ship resist, the engines straining to maintain balance against the atmosphere. The fiery cloud cover loomed closer, glowing faintly like the opening curtain to an impossible theater. Almost there.

“Everyone hold tight,” I called out, my voice steady even as my pulse raced. “We’re about to break through the cloud cover.” Here goes nothing.

---

The Percival burst through a dense layer of cloud, revealing the alien world in stunning clarity. Fuck, it's beautiful. Lush, rolling hills of vegetation stretched out beneath us, shimmering in hues of green and deep red. Winding rivers glinted like silver veins, twisting their way through the wild, untamed landscape. But there was no time to admire the view, the landing zone was approaching fast, a small clearing near the base of a ridge, nestled close to a gleaming blue river. Easy does it, Luca. Don't fuck this up.

"Zoe, can you confirm our landing coordinates?" I asked, my voice taut, trying to keep the tremor out of it. I scanned the terrain for anything unexpected, jagged rock formations, strange shadows that might conceal obstacles, anything that could disrupt our descent. Anything that could kill us.

"Affirmative," she said, fingers flying over the touchscreen. "I've locked in a clearing near a water source, but... we're getting some turbulence from the thermal drafts off the ridge. It’s going to be a little bumpy." She sent the data to my display, and the landing marker blinked bright green, steadily closing in. A little bumpy? Great.

I felt a bead of sweat roll down my temple, my grip tightening on the control yoke. "Copy that. Preparing for manual override." Shit. Manual. Just like the simulations. But this isn't a simulation. The thrusters adjusted, angling downward as the ship shifted to a vertical descent.

Outside, plumes of dust began to rise, swirling around us as the Percival lowered itself over the clearing. The engines roared, straining to keep the descent smooth against the unpredictable gusts, and my hands moved with precise, fluid motions, small corrections, tiny shifts that felt like balancing on a knife’s edge. Easy, Luca. You've done this a thousand times. Sort of.

"Steady... steady..." I muttered, eyes flicking between the external cameras and the sensor readouts. The turbulence fought us every step of the way, as if the air itself was trying to nudge us off course. Every bump and shudder was a reminder that this planet was still a mystery, its forces unpredictable, its terrain uncharted.

The Percival dipped slightly, and I reacted instinctively, nudging the thrusters to compensate. The ship stabilized, but it was a constant struggle, like guiding a feather to land on a pinpoint. I could hear the engines straining, the hum deep and guttural, reverberating through the cockpit. Almost there.

"We're coming in hot," Zoe called out, the slightest edge of tension creeping into her voice. "Ease back just a touch, Luca."

"Already on it," I said, rolling my shoulder to loosen the stiffness settling in. With a careful twist of the throttle, I adjusted the thrust, slowing our descent just enough to bring us into a controlled hover. Almost. Almost.

"Final approach," I announced, my voice calm but laced with concentration. The ground loomed closer, the clearing widening beneath us, a perfect spot amid the rough terrain. Dust clouds billowed as the thrusters fired, and I held my breath, guiding the ship down with gentle, measured pressure.

The Percival touched down with a muted thump, the landing struts absorbing the impact. For a moment, everything was still, the engines winding down to a low, throbbing hum. The dust settled, revealing the alien perspective through the cockpit glass, serene and strange in the daylight.

I exhaled slowly, flexing my aching fingers as I released the controls. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "We're down," I said, glancing at Zoe. Her grin mirrored my own, her earlier tension finally giving way to relief.

But as I met her eyes, she winked, a slow, deliberate wink that sent a jolt through me. It was a wink that said more than just "good job." It was a wink that said, "I see you, Captain. And I like what I see." Was she... flirting? With me? Now? I couldn't help the way my smile widened, a rush of heat flooding my cheeks. Damn, she's hot. Nailed it.

"Not bad, Captain," she said, her voice carrying a spark of pride and something else, something that sounded a lot like... mischief. "Smooth enough for me." She held my eyes a beat longer than necessary, her dark eyes sparkling, and I could have sworn I saw a hint of a challenge in their depths. Holy shit, is she actually coming on to me?

I turned on the intercom, unable to resist a little flair. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Alpha Centauri b, ‘New Dawn.’ Local time is… anyone’s guess. The ship is now secure; you may release your seatbelts."

The cabin erupted in cheers and laughter. Somewhere behind me, Ryan shouted, "Thank you, Jesus!" and Chris groaned, "Holy shit, what a bumpy ride!" Their voices were a blur, energy crackling through the crew like static. I could hear Emily laughing, and the sound sent a wave of warmth through me. I turned, catching her eye. She gave me a thumbs-up, her grin wide and bright. She's proud of me. And for some reason, that meant more than anything else.

I focused on the cockpit glass. Outside, the alien landscape stretched endlessly before us, raw, untouched, waiting. My pulse quickened as the possibilities unfurled in my mind. I pressed my palm against the viewport, feeling the cool vibration of the glass beneath my fingers. We made it. Now the real work begins.