“The system is at twenty five percent power. We need twenty percent to reach back to base. We wander around any more and we will be dead in the water. There wouldn’t even be enough for the atmospheric converters. What is the call, Simmons?” Vasquez asked calmy to the man in the driver’s seat to the left of him, looking over with a keen and observant eye.

“Give me a second.” Simmons replied, trying his best to hide the panic he felt from being visible through his helmets visor,

What would he do? He was in charge of the expedition in their three-seater vehicle on this planet that they were colonizing for mining purposes. There had been a hundred such expeditions that had gone perfectly fine before. A sensor failing here or there, a slight pressure breach from aging machinery that forced them to utilize their suits to breathe until they got back, but nothing insurmountable.

That was until this damned storm that came out from nowhere. It was a storm that was beyond anything they had seen on any planet colonized before. Severe winds threw small rocks from the stony planet like meteors, rocking their vehicle viciously. A metallic dust storm prevented their navigation from working. They had spent a good while trying to find their way back while waiting for the storm to pass to no avail.

This planet was never supposed to have storms like this. They had been watching it for seventy-five years straight, meteorological, geological, climatological data said this planet barely faced anything devastating at all. Their tech was extremely proficient at these kind of readings. You could see if it rained a little hard a month ago. This planet had seen a couple mild hurricanes or tornados in the last two hundred thousand years, yes, but nothing like this.

Simmons had to think of a way out of this, and swiftly. He proceeded to consider the most important risks.  The swirling mass of acidic rain, dust, and rocks completely blocked the view from the windshield or any of the sensors. Gravitational locks kept the vehicle’s treads stuck firmly onto the ground, as long as there was power. The vehicle was made out of an alloy that could sustain the barrage of stones of this size almost indefinitely, but the window would give eventually. Tiny fractures were already starting to form. The biggest problem was the power.  

What was the solution?

“If you don’t do something, I will.” The voice of Fitzpatrick rang out from behind him.

He looked in the backseat as Fitzpatrick prepped one of the recon drones they had. He was undoubtedly intelligent, to a fault. Sometimes he made decisions that didn’t work as he intended because he was utterly convinced of his own intellect.

“Don’t even think about it, Fitzpatrick. Those winds are too much. We couldn’t get that thing out there even if we tried.” Simmons said sternly.

“Not alive, anyway.” Vasquez said, still trying to make the navigation work. His right hand sneaked to his door control panel.

“I only need to open the door a little, for a second. These things are sturdy enough to survive a bit out there. Even if it gets whipped around, I only need to get it high enough to get a second of signal. I’m strapped in and not going anywhere. It’s going to work, and it’s better than doing nothing.”  

He started to initiate the override of the doors lock, putting the drone where it would slide open to get it out as soon as possible. Simmons couldn’t stop him from opening the door due to the override system, which was there to allow it to be opened in emergency situations. He could only close the door when the opening had been stopped. The powerful hydraulics in the door would open it enough for the drone to fit through in an instant.

“Don’t do it, we have time, we can try as a last result if we need to. That’s an order!” Simmons shouted in desperation.

“You’ll thank me for this.”

“Please don’t.”

The second the door started to open, all the air was sucked from the vehicle cabin, replaced by the violent and deafening roar of the storm. In a blink the drone was sucked out along with Fitzpatrick’s upper body being brutally ripped towards the entrance. A hail of stones flew inside like missiles, smashing his limply rag dolling body, crumbling bone like thin glass and exploding on the interior.   

Simmons managed to turn and wrap his arms around the steering wheel in that instant, mustering all his strength to do so. The small dust particles that swarmed around felt like a thousand wasp stings when they impacted his durable yet flexible suit. The sound of the particles hitting his helmet was making his ears ring.

Vasquez had his hand on his control for the back door ready to close it the second it opened. He had braced his whole body against it in preparation for that moment. The instant it opened he held down the button. Once Fitzpatrick was no longer opening it the door started to close, most of his arms and neck in its powerful path. The door stopped when it touched his body, so Vasquez mashed the button to override that safety feature. Inch by inch the body was crushed, and a seal was made once more.

The event had only lasted a second or two but felt like an eternity to the survivors.

Vasquez collapsed from the herculean effort of resisting the pull of the storm. Simmons was shaking slightly, still hugging the wheel. Air started to return to the cabin. It took a moment for the two to recover, both of them huffing heavily in silence. Neither one wanted to look at the body jammed in the door. They knew what happened and didn’t need to gaze upon it.

“Fuck.” Simmons muttered.

“Yeah.”

“You did what you had to.”

“I know.”

After they had shaken off the dust and checked for breaches in their suits, the two spent a short while in silence attempting to get the navigation to work. They tried every combination of frequency and setting, but nothing worked. The furious sound of the storm pelting their vehicle appeared to grow louder to them as the situation settled in their heads.

Simmons released a deep sigh. There was really only one option. He grabbed the wheel with a firm grip.

“I’m just going to drive.” He said trying to hide his dread.

“Fine by me.”

He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever was listening, something he has never done. Religion wasn’t really much of a thing these days, yet he instinctively prayed. The thought amused him; maybe this is just what humans did when put in a situation devoid of hope. He opened his eyes and chose a direction, stepping on the accelerator.

For quite a while they drove blindly through the flat, rocky terrain, hoping they wouldn’t drive into a mountain or one of the acidic lakes that were sprinkled here and there. It was impossible to see through the hailstorm of water and debris, so they just continued onward in silence. The back seat and its contents were invisible in their minds, gone as to not think about it.

Several times, the speed of the wind almost overpowered the powerful gravitational locks that kept the vehicle’s treads glued to the ground. If they weren’t activated, the vehicle would surely be thrown into the air like a dried leaf. At one point a massive boulder came crashing down in front of them, bouncing away with a thunderous boom. If that had hit them, the speeding tons of rock would have done real damage.

Onward and onward they traveled, without a clue of where they were. Simmons was giving into the dread, becoming numb as he watched their power dwindle. Vasquez was as calm as ever, resigning himself to and accepting death since he was a young man. When the power got low enough, they decided to turn off the atmospheric converter to save power. Their suit’s systems would make them last until slightly after the power ran out, as long as they controlled their breathing.

Dust and stone were the only sights the men saw, yet their thoughts were of different things. The sight and sound of the storm was accepted and almost ignored by their brains. Through Vasquez’s mind ran a clean bed, a silent room, a warm cup of green tea. Through Simmons’ mind ran thoughts of his wife, his friends at the base and a neat scotch.  

Neither had much hope seeing any of those wonderful things. The power was nearly spent.

“It was a pleasure working with you, Alex. Get back, no matter what.” Vasquez said, drawing a cord from the front console and plugging it into a port on his suit. He was reversing the flow of power, pulling it from the suit into the vehicle. The full power of the suit would give twenty minutes at most, a last-ditch effort to make sure at least one of them had a chance of getting back.

Simmons felt cold. He had never been called by his first name by Vasquez. He also knew well enough that when Vasquez did something there was no making him change his mind. With a gentle touch he placed a hand on Vasquez’s shoulder.

“It has been a pleasure indeed, Jaime. I will, don’t you worry.” He replied, looking into the calm face next to him. Vasquez just nodded slightly and turned away. The air in his suit would last five minutes at most. He never turned back around or moved again, closing his eyes and sleeping, having a pleasant calm dream until there was nothing.

With the power from Vasquez’s suit, Simmons had about an hour left to drive. He drove with a new determination to make it for his fallen comrades. It couldn’t all be for nothing, all this death and sacrifice. This damn storm, this once in a millennium event from hell.

Soon the power was nearly spent. Five minutes remained and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. Please, please, whoever is out there, let me find the base. I beg of you. He prayed. Almost immediately after, a massive dark rounded shape appeared in the near distance.

The base! Something had listened to him. Somehow, some way, he made it. He thanked whatever helped him and his fallen friends.  

He approached the rounded steel of the base and circled until he found the garage. The sensors would automatically open the door for him. It was strange, he couldn’t see any sign of the lights surrounding the base. Maybe they were just knocked out from the intense storm. He reached the door to the garage, yet it stayed shut. He slammed on his horn, they had to hear that. Still nothing.

Panic started to make him shake. He circled the building, looking for an explanation. He froze. One side of the building was blown out, burn marks circling the outside. It was the side of the building that contained the reactor that powered it. A boulder of sufficient size must have caved in the wall in the exact right way. The chances of that were absurd, nearly impossible. Same as the odds of him traveling blindly and finding the base, he thought coldly.

The power in his vehicle reached one minute. Simmons undid his belt, opened the door with the remaining ounce of power, accepting the cruel force that ripped him from his seat.