"This is Commander Callistro of the Delta station... Come in, COMMS do you read me? COMMS? Hello? I've been abandoned by those around me. I'm on... Fuck, I don't know. Some random Planet. Somewhere in the cosmos. I-I don't even remember how we got here. It was some sort of crash? I just lost control?"
Callistro whispers into the transmitter, her grip squeezes the transmitter that is held close to her shaking breath. She feels like someone is watching her very closely.
She tries again but to no avail, a bead of sweat starts to roll down her palms as she holds the transmitter close to her body as if its the only thing that can protect her in this strange world.
The world itself, to what very little there is of it, is nothing but a rolling purple mist that crawls along this barren purple wasteland.
She assumes that she's the only life form on this Planet, herself, a mere visitor from the crashed wrecked the station as she trudged a few miles in search for help.
She slowly tries to compose herself using a breathing technique that was once shown to her back on their station by Samuels. It seems to help for a short period of time as she fills her lungs in with the radiating heat that comes off from her body trapped in the suit.
Her steel helmet keeps her head in place, like most of its body, it's amazing that she walked all those miles by forcing herself to crawl on her knees.
She can feel the pulse of the Planet, beating through its core into her trembling sweaty hands, she can feel the heat radiate through her failing body as she licks her dry lips over and over. Salivating what little is left of her saliva.
Her voice cracks, as she gains a strange response.
The pulsating purple sand begins to beat a tune. It feels like a heartbeat, almost.
She bawls what's left of her battered hands into fists, feeling the heat and sweat mixed together and starts to slam her hands down onto the sand or what she believes is the earth below her.
She does it again and again, over and over. The heart beat of the Planet getting quicker and quicker, she can almost hear it through her mind.
Her hands freeze mid air. Her body quivers with shock. She'd been hurting it. Hurting it with her own hands. These hands that once held her baby close to her.
She can feel the tears roll down onto her cheeks as she lets out a guttering cry. She resumes her frantic slamming, trying to beat whatever is inside this thing.
She's so preoccupied that she doesn't even notice what is happening to her. The ground starts to open with a small crack.
The crack gets bigger and bigger until she realises that its too late when her legs starts to slowly sink into the sand.
She tries to whip her head around like a frantic animal but the helmet doesn't have the capacity to.
Her hand feels for the lock to the right of the helmet, the small red button is there, she feels it, and closes her eyes, pressing it.
The helmet releases with a hiss of smoke, she starts to cough as she struggles to get it off her head. She uses her two hands, pulling it with all the strength she has left.
The air is the first thing that attacks her, it's so humid and stifling, it feels like her breath has been slowly transformed into two hot air balloons. She can feel her nostrils burning slowly with the heat, it makes her sore and uncomfortable and aching for some relief.
What little relief that there is, it tickles the few strands of hair that has been pulled out from her 'perfect' ponytail. She was always expected to be calm and composed, the ideal Commander, the ideal woman.
'Strong. Wild. True.'
The words of her father, mother, and anyone that has ever known her. The words that she believed would one day help her be the strongest person in the room, the strong, beautiful girl she grew up reading about in the stories she once loved.
But, they were just all fictional.
There would be no one to save her, no handsome prince, wicked antihero or villain turned good for her.
She felt fine with that. She always relied on herself and let nobody push her around, she was the Commander after all and could get herself out of any situation, any problem she found herself in. Like this one.
She whips her head slowly to see her trapped legs under the sand, she tries to move her legs but they are paralysed, something has a strong grip on them, making her want to scream out in torture.
The purple sand held its mighty grip on her as she tried to pull herself, digging her nails into the Planet's earth. Blistering heat attacked her body making herself nauseous and almost to the brink of no return.
She screams out in pain or whatever she can muster, calling for help as her fingers start to slowly sink into the cracks of the earth.
The sand starts to cover up her whole body, bit by bit, as it makes it way slowly towards her face.
But before her vision and body is taken, a voice rings through her mind.
The voice of that alerts whatever is little left of her, by now which is just her upper arms, torso and face.
Her weary, clouded eyes scan the horizon for the person that last spoke to her, the voice she remembers as the darkness creeps over her vision.
"Shush, just fall asleep."
Hey eyes, trying to keep awake and active is the only last thing on her mind as she desperately tries to scream out in pain or a last plea for help to come to her.
She swears she can see someone on the horizon, or something but it looks exactly like him. In a suit. The last time she saw him was when.
She can't think about that anymore.
He has to be alive.
She can't believe anything else.
Her mind is overtaken by other voices, no, its the same male voice that rings these words through her mind, trying to keep her calm and happy.
She closes her eyes for the last time and dreams of him.