Chapter 36 - A Normal Planet

The infirmary was too dark and too quiet and it smelled like disinfectant. Luca sat hunched beside Emily's medical pod, the glow of vital sign readouts the only thing keeping him company. She looked worse under that light. They both probably did.

His eyes stung and his back had locked up hours ago, but he wouldn't move, not when each shallow breath she took might be her last.

She'd been in there for eight hours, sealed away in that clear coffin while machines pushed fluids and medications through her veins.

The door hissed open behind him, and of course it was Joey again. Luca recognized the footsteps by now, which was probably sad if he thought about it too hard. Joey had something in his hand this time, some kind of cartridge.

"How is she?" Luca asked without turning around, the question automatic now after so many check-ins.

"Better than an hour ago," Joey replied, moving to the pod's control panel. "Her white blood cell count's stabilizing. Temperature's down to 37.8, uh... 100.2. The bleeding's slowed but hasn't stopped completely. That's why I brought this."

Stabilizing sounded like the best word in the English language right now.

Joey held up the cartridge, its silver casing catching the blue light. "Vascular Repair Cartridge," he explained, sliding it into a port on the side of the pod. "This'll fix those busted capillaries, stop the nosebleeds."

He didn't care what was in it as long as it worked.

The pod hummed softly as it accepted the new medication. Through the transparent canopy, Luca watched Emily breathe. Each one came shallow and uneven, like her body kept forgetting how. Her face was waxy, dark circles beneath her eyes. Dried blood still clung to the corners of her nostrils despite Joey's careful cleaning. Nothing like the woman who'd sat on his lap laughing in the lounge just two days ago.

"Why her?" Luca asked, the question that had been eating at him since the shelter. "We all got the same dose. Why is she the only one who..."

Joey sighed, checking the medical readout before answering. "Hard to say for certain. Could be genetic factors, previous exposure we don't know about." He hesitated. "Or it could just be bad luck. Radiation's unpredictable."

"Bullshit," Luca growled, the word sharper than he'd intended. "There has to be a reason."

"Look," Joey said, his voice dropping. "Sometimes we don't get nice, neat explanations. Ryan's got a mild headache. Chris collapsed from heat exhaustion and dehydration. Danny's developing a rash on his arms. Everyone's showing different symptoms."

His entire crew was falling apart in different flavors, which was exactly the kind of reassurance he'd been looking for.

"Even Chris is back on his feet," Joey added, almost smirking. "Not that he'd ever admit he fainted."

Any other day, Luca would've given Chris shit about that for a week. Not today.

"But they're all conscious," Luca countered. His hand rested on the glass of the pod, inches from Emily's still form. "They're all walking and talking."

The medical pod beeped and something shifted inside the tubing. Luca watched the new meds flow into her arm and tried not to think about how many machines were keeping his girlfriend alive right now. Joey checked the display and gave a short nod.

"Her vascularity is already showing improvement," he said. "The cartridge contains meds specifically designed for radiation damage."

The numbers on the display ticked up. Not by much, but enough. "How long?"

"For full recovery? Still another five or six hours," Joey said. "But give it two, maybe three more hours and she’ll start waking up from the sedatives. She’ll be tired and sore, but she'll bounce back quick. No permanent damage."

Something in his shoulders unclenched. He could do six more hours. He'd already done eight. "That's nothing. We've been traveling two months. What's one more day?"

"So we're delaying planetfall?"

"Of course we are." Luca leaned back in his chair. "Until she's ready. This is her moment too. Besides, what's a little radiation poisoning between friends, right?"

Joey placed a hand on Luca's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Her body took a hit, but honestly, it's not as bad as we thought. She's responding well to treatment. The cardiovascular and immune systems are bouncing back, and her neuro scans are clean. Brain, organs, everything looks solid."

Luca let the words wash over him. Cardiovascular, immune, neuro, all the stuff Joey rattled off like it was supposed to mean something to a guy running on fumes. Luca didn't know what half of it meant in practice, but Joey's voice had that calm, steady thing it got when he wasn't worried anymore, and that was enough.

"Will she wake up soon?" he asked softly.

"Like I said, two hours, give or take, but every case is different." Joey moved around the pod, making small adjustments to various settings. "Give it a bit and she’ll be groggy but talking. Probably complaining."

"Good," Luca said with a tired smile. "I’d kill for a sarcastic comment right about now."

Joey’s expression softened. "She’ll be weak for a few days, but she’ll pull through."

Luca braced a hand against the pod. His fingers were shaking. When did that start? "Okay. Okay, good."

Joey checked the last of the readings before stepping back. "I'm going to grab some coffee. You want some?"

Luca shook his head. "I'm good."

"You should get some rest," Joey advised. "You look like hell."

"Later," Luca said, his eyes already back on Emily.

Joey sighed but didn't argue. "I'll be back in twenty minutes to check her progress." He paused at the door. "She's stable, Luca. You did everything right."

When Joey left, Luca pressed his palm against the glass. Even pale, even with dried blood under her nose and machines doing half her breathing for her, she was so goddamned cute and he was so goddamned stupid for never telling her the things he'd been wanting to say. All those conversations he kept putting off because the timing wasn't right or he was too chickenshit to start them.

"Hey, Em," he said, keeping his voice low. His face was hot and he didn't care. "Take your time. New Dawn's not going anywhere, and neither are we."

Her only response was the steady rise and fall of her chest, and right now that was enough for him.

Luca looked at her one more time, then pushed to his feet. The crew was waiting.

---

The Triumph of Darron orbited Proxima Centauri b, its engines humming the way they always did. Two months of that sound and Luca barely heard it anymore. Looking out at the planet just... sitting there, reds and blues swirling across the surface like the world's biggest mood ring, Luca's brain still couldn't process that they'd actually fucking done it.

And Emily was unconscious for it.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, but they still burned like he'd been sanding them down for fun. Eight hours in that chair and his legs felt like they belonged to someone else.

"Alright, crew," Luca called out across the bridge. "Final briefing time. History's waiting for us down there."

Everyone gathered fast. But as they assembled, Luca kept looking at the gap where Emily should have been standing. His XO should be here, sliding into her usual spot with that nod she always gave him before important briefings.

Joey had assured him she'd pull through. But damn, he missed her. A couple more hours. Emily would've already noticed if Danny hadn't eaten, or if Ryan was overcompensating with the grin. Without her, he was flying half-blind.

"This is it," Luca continued, pushing through the momentary uncertainty. "Proxima Centauri b. We're about to become the first humans to set foot on an alien world in another star system." He still couldn't say it without his skin prickling. Two months of travel and the words still didn't feel real.

Zoe didn't wait to be called on. "Probes are prepped and locked. I'll handle deployment and initial telemetry." She'd mapped every probe system herself, and Luca had stopped being surprised by that about six weeks ago.

"Outstanding." Something clicked into place when he started giving orders. It always did. Easier to be a captain than a boyfriend sitting next to a medical pod. "Danny, Ryan, you both handle sensor calibration. I want atmospheric readings, surface composition, everything we can get before we crack the seals."

Danny was already halfway to his station. "Full spectrum analysis coming online now." Because Danny couldn't just say "on it" like a normal person.

"Been waiting two months for this moment." Ryan cracked his knuckles and dropped into his seat. "Let's see what this rock's made of." Then, quieter: "How's Emily doing?"

Luca's throat went tight. "Stable. Should be up in a couple hours."

"Good," Ryan said. "She'd kill us if we made first contact without her."

Zoe looked up from her navigation console, her expression softening. "I'm going to head down and check on her after we get the probe data. Help her get back on her feet when she wakes up."

"She'd appreciate that," Luca said.

"Chris, atmospheric processing. The second we get probe data, I want to know if we can breathe down there or if we're suiting up."

Chris didn't even look up from his calculations. "Already on it. And recording everything for the history books, obviously."

Luca almost smiled at that. Part of him was still three decks down, watching her breathe through glass. But the crew needed him here. Around him, the bridge had that focused hum it got when everyone locked in at once. Danny and Ryan were buried in sensor feeds, Ryan's grin spreading wider with each passing second.

"Probes ready for deployment," Zoe announced from her station.

Luca straightened. "Deploy all probes. Let's light up this world."

The deck shivered under Luca's boots as the first probe launched, then two more right behind it. On the external displays they were just tiny bright dots hauling ass toward a planet, punching into the upper atmosphere and gone.

"Probes away," Zoe confirmed, and Luca caught the edge of excitement cracking through her composure. "Telemetry looks good. First atmospheric contact in... thirty seconds."

Danny hunched over his console as numbers started flooding in. "Sensors are live. Here we go."

"Initial readings coming through... holy shit." Ryan straightened and turned to Luca. "Captain, you need to see this."

Atmospheric composition, magnetic field strength, surface temps. All of it spilling across every screen on the bridge at once. For the first time in eight hours, Luca forgot about the infirmary.

Zoe spun in her chair. "Danny, Ryan! Are you seeing this?"

Danny practically bounced off his console, his excitement infectious. "Oxygen at twenty-one percent, nitrogen at seventy-eight..." His voice cracked slightly. "Guys, this atmosphere is almost identical to Earth's."

Nobody said anything for a second. They'd found an alien world with breathable air, and Luca didn't even know what to do with that information.

Ryan whistled through his teeth. "Well I'll be damned. The universe just rolled out the red carpet for us."

Emily should be here. She should be the one yelling at Danny to pull up the next dataset, already three steps ahead of everyone else. She'd be back on her feet within hours. At least that was what Luca kept telling himself.

"Let's not get carried away," Chris cautioned. "We still need comprehensive scans for toxins, pathogens, radiation levels. Breathable doesn't necessarily mean safe."

Chris had never met a good mood he couldn't puncture, but he wasn't wrong. Luca's brain was already past the high and landing on the thing he actually cared about. "What about portal signatures? Any unusual energy readings?"

Danny pulled up the energy analysis displays, his expression shifting to disappointment. "Nothing, Captain. No portal signatures, no System energy fluctuations. Just... a normal planet."

The bridge went quiet, and this silence landed heavier than the last one. The ache behind Luca's eyes came back and brought Emily with it, pale under blue light three decks below. They'd burned two months crossing four light-years because they believed this planet would give them portals and advancement. Some proof that the trip had been worth what it cost. Instead they got breathable air and no answers.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Zoe offered, looking at the data. "No portals means no System interference. No level caps, no arbitrary restrictions. We could actually explore and colonize without fighting for our lives every step of the way."

She had a point. A world they could live on without the System deciding who advanced and who got left behind wasn't nothing.

Joey cut in from the medical bay. "Don't go soft on me now, Zoe. No portals doesn't equal paradise. Could be predators, diseases, or environmental hazards we've never seen before. Plenty of ways to die on an uncharted world."

Joey could kill a mood from three decks away, which took genuine talent. He wasn't wrong, though. Breathable didn't mean safe, and Luca had already learned that lesson once today. But the numbers on their screens kept telling a different story. The atmosphere could sustain human life, the magnetic field held steady, and surface temps fell in a range that didn't require pressure suits. None of it should have been possible, and all of it was.

The Triumph would stay put. Built in the zero-g cradles of the Asteroid Belt, she was an orbital queen, not a gravity well wrestler. Trying to land this behemoth on a planet would be like trying to parallel park a whale. That's what the Percival was for.