FORWARD UNTO DAWN /

mechanical engineer / arcadia colony ▶︎ It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.

[uuuhshiny]

Elias?

[johanpetterson-blog]

penelopereyes‌:

“Thanks,” she responded. She made her way over to the coffee area. She grabbed one of the mugs, filling it three-quarters of the way with the dark beverage. The aroma of black coffee traveled heavily through her nostrils, piercing through the foggy veil of her thoughts with the smooth, rich scent of roasted beans. The aroma reminding her of her grandmother combining the old memory and her present day indulgence. She glanced at the sweeteners and powdered milk, instead, she omitted. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” She gestured toward one of the empty seats near the other. If I’m going to be here for ten years, I may as well play nice. And at least attempt to make an acquaintance or something. 

Johan shook his head, moving to slump down into one of the chairs himself. His long frame sprawled lazily, taking up a generous amount of space that the emptiness of the canteen allowed. “Go ahead, I’ve been sort of waiting for someone else to wake up.” He set his cup down, rubbing at his cheek sleepily. “I’m still kinda lagged, my brain thinks I’m still on Neos, I guess.” 

The engineer glanced over, trying to read the name embroidered onto the front of his new companion’s jacket. She shifted, and his gaze lifted up to meet hers. “Unless you don’t feel like chatting-- in which case, I’ll probably just take a walk.” He extended a hand, feeling formal in his introduction. “Johan.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

Avery: So, Negative?

Johan: Negative

Johan: Try whispering

[johanpetterson-blog]

Avery: Radio Check.

Avery: This is March.

Avery: Do you read me?

Johan: Well March

Johan: This camp is so small, I can literally hear you speaking into the radio from where I'm standing

[johanpetterson-blog]

penelopereyes‌:

open

The young blonde tossed and turned all night, it was the first time in a long while that she had spent a night alone. She stopped fighting it and laid in bed awake for about half an hour before her alarm rang. Penelope laid in bed, twisting left arm around and around to admire it from as many angles as possible, she had recently completed a sleeve of tattoos. The bright screen from her watch burned her eyes a bit, she saw the calendar notification pop up on the top of the screen. Today was Wednesday, May 6th. It was her mother’s birthday, she would have turned 54 years old. She and her father would have planned to take her mother out for dinner at her favorite restaurant. But that wouldn’t be the case.

She sat up in her bed yawning and stretched her body upwards. Penelope moved the sea of white sheets off her, letting her feet touch the icy cold floor. She stood to her feet, stretching a bit more to get the blood flowing thru her veins, the way that her father had taught her to do every morning since childhood. 

She walked towards the exercise area, hopping on to a bike in the corner of the room and began her morning routine of cycling twelve miles, one hundred and fifty crunches followed by fifteen pull-ups. After the final pull up, she let herself fall landing on her feet.

Penelope headed towards the bathroom turning on the shower. She stripped off her now sweaty clothes and stepped in, taking in a deep breath of the hot steam; she loved the way that it made her lungs feel as they expanded and contracted with each breath, the hot water against her back was marvelous. She washed her hair then finished washing the rest of her body and finally brushed her teeth. The small woman readied for the day, grateful for the small amount of privacy. 

The base was relatively empty, so she headed towards the lake. The mountains contrasted against the grey skies beautifully. With her arms crossed in front of her chest, she rocked back and forth on her heels. The water mesmerized her for a bit. The sound of a small rock rolling behind her broke her concentration. Shaking her head, she walked towards the mess hall. 

“Good morning,” she said to absentmindedly as she walked towards the coffee area.

Johan leaned against a table lazily, nursing his coffee. The space had been transformed to be somewhat cozier than it had been when they had arrived-- a rug had been tossed onto the floor, there were tablecloths over the surfaces. The reality that they had ten more years in such a place hadn’t sunken in quite yet, and therefore, little had been done to make the place as comfortable as it could be. 

A voice made him glance up from the inky brew he had been sipping, and he forced a smile onto his face. “Morning,” the engineer returned, gesturing towards the pot that sat on the counter. “It’s still fresh, if you want some.” His own beverage was black, but with two spoons of sugar: bitter but also incredibly sweet. 

He took another mouthful. “Think there’s milk somewhere in the fridge-- it was powdered, so it might taste like shit until we finally get the cows out of shock and into that barn of theirs.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

nacremcnamara‌:

     “Luckily, no, but I’m looking forward to shooting the shit out of some of ‘em they second they decide to make themselves known.”

Nacre wasn’t an idiot: they weren’t hoping for some hostile alien lifeform to make itself known on Arcadia. They’d seen how Persia had played out, read about it on the newsfeeds even from the relative comfort of their shithole apartment in Terra Nova. Couldn’t decide at the time if it was a blessing from some higher power that had kept them off that mission, or if they thought it was karma for not letting them on, like they were good enough they could’ve made a difference somehow. 

Neither, probably. They didn’t really believe in fate, and they weren’t a raging egomaniac, no matter how good they were with a gun.

     “What about you?”

Their tone made him grin, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve seen a few.” Early days, on Ballast. His tour had just ended, the prospects of containing the colony and its success had seemed bright. A few months after they had left, the entire planet had been evacuated while he and his team partied on Erebus. He’d been-- felt younger then.

The engineer made a face, finding words to fill the pause he’d left. “On Ballast. Want a tip? Shoot them square in the head, or don’t bother at all.” He lifted a shoulder, “If it’s the same kind of hostiles that we dealt with there.” Tapping at the flame thrower, he glanced back at Nacre. “Or maybe it’ll be something different-- in which case, feel free to tap me in with one of these bad boys.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

gwen-hayes‌:

She made a noise from the back of her throat in response to his comment, almost a snort. “Yeah that would be enough to throw off your equilibrium. Has that paramedic been chasing you down every day with a banana bag?”  She had seem Tom all around camp, always seeming to be searching for somebody with great determination. At least someone was looking out for them.

As he finished, she stepped forward to look at his work, the heat lamp now fully functional, “No,” she paused briefly, running over her list of things that needed to be done. There was nothing broken on it.  “Nothing I can think of at the moment.”

Gwen frowned at his comment, eyes going back to him as he spoke. “I know, it is odd. It’s so strangely…quiet out there. Not every planet we’ve colonized has had fauna but, considering the habitat, it is unusual.” They had seen evidence of insect like life, but nothing else. It seemed almost impossible that there would be no animal life. If there was something out there, it was remaining well hidden - which was a daunting thought.

“Tom?” Johan lifted his arm, pushing the sleeve of his jacket up to show off the bandaid that was plastered on the inside of his elbow. “He already got me and gave me a vitamin shot. Apparently I’m skipping my veggies.” He grinned, resisting the urge to poke around the fragile green plants any more, “Maybe once yours are ready, I’ll be more willing to eat them.”

He nodded, but didn’t leave. “I might hide out here for a little bit, if I’m not bothering you.” The engineer gestured to the outside, “We’ve got to do the barn soon, but after unloading all that timber this morning...” Johan’s expression was sheepish, “I’m kinda beat.”

The conversation was interesting and he nodded. “Almost makes you wonder what’s hiding out in those woods.” He recalled a poem he had learned in school, something very old-- only the first few lines ever stuck. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. “Sometimes good things are worth the wait, but sometimes bad things bide their time.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

m-ebsen‌:

It became a balancing act – finding composure whilst confronted with the deepest sorrow of his past in front of a man he barely knew. It was rare for him to offer up this chapter of his book willingly. To be dependable and a leader in the field, Magnus had been forced to corner off the chaos and heartache her death brought on. Few had been able to coax out the grief-stricken parts of Magnus and he was reluctant in that moment still, but suspected Johan to be a man he could trust. A suspicion supported by the myriad of emotions he saw flash across the other man’s face; telling him they were both familiar with loss in significant ways.

“Thank God for small favours,” he said earnestly. The words were laced with melancholy, but also true gratitude for Johan’s well-being. He was often struck by how the random confluences of events that had such important outcomes. By the look on Johan’s face, however, he wasn’t entirely sure the other man felt any form of relief. He knew of the bond you form with your team, how their survival is intrinsically linked to yourself. “I’m sorry, Johan.” It was all he could muster, but Magnus hoped it was enough.

“I– I ask because you’re the only person I’ve met who was on the ground.” The emphasis on the last word hinted at his disapproval of the higher-ups who had so carelessly denied the aide from the safety of their control rooms. “I was supposed to be there but work– well, it forced me to stay on Meridian” Magnus spoke with some difficulty, “Josey, my wife. She never did have patience to wait.” He blinked at the tears beginning to form, smiling at the memory of her. 

Johan’s laugh was dry; a humourless sound that fell flatly between them in the warmth of the night. “He doesn’t deserve all the credit for my shitty luck.” Despite the fact that his supply would surely dwindle out rapidly if he kept at it as he did, he reached into his jacket to free another cigarette, tucking it between the seam of his lips. A flick of his lighter sparked the end to life, and he inhaled deeply. The apology was unexpected, and through the haziness of his exhalation, green eyes sought out Magnus’ genuine expression. “Me too.” 

War had burned them down like candles, it had left some as wicks, others as charcoal. Johan saw himself to be more like the latter, he still had moments where he could shine brightly. “I’m about the only one alive who was on the ground.” He took another pull, “I remember how excited everyone was, to be on a new planet. It was a fresh mission-- no one was eager to leave it.” Until they weren’t granted the opportunity. He sometimes imagined how the last day had been. Desperate calls would have flooded Earth, those pleas would have been left unanswered until the very last of communication blinked out, leaving Persia to be nothing more than a dead star in their constellation.

He had drifted into his thoughts, but the tail end of Magnus’ speech returned him sharply to the present. “Josey?” How many ties had followed him up into space? He lifted a hand, rubbing at his cheek before dropping it onto his companion’s shoulder. “I remember her. I remember that she was kind to the recruits. The younger ones needed someone like her on their side.” He wished that he could pass off a smile, something to ease the ache-- she died well, she was brave, she did good work, but they were soldier’s last moments, not the wishes of someone who existed outside of their line of work, and he hadn’t been there to see the end. “All of this pain,” he finally said, “And we still find ourselves up here exploring the stars.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

paramedic-tom‌:

Tom shook his head slightly at the crude joke as he reached into his bag for his tablet. His finger print scanned in the reader and he opened up Petterson’s file—a document that was filled with the dry reports made by combat medics like he’d once been, indicating a lengthy career in the military. “It says here you haven’t had your immunity booster shot.” He looked up at the man, a smile twitching on his usually serious face, “It’s like a candy multivitamin, but for adults.” Tucking away the tablet, Tom nodded towards the medical facility. “Might as well get it all done in one go. You need your base line tests too.”

Johan shook his head, biting to hide a wry smile. “If it’s not a Flinstone, I’m not interested.” Personally, he’d never had the vitamin in the shape of what he’d heard was once a cartoon for children; but it existed in legend and vernacular, something his mother would joke about if he skipped his vitamins. His gaze lifted to the shiny new medical facility, constructed on what had been just dry earth a few days before. “If it speeds things up any, I’m feeling about 70/30, which is a massive upgrade from the first two days.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

nacremcnamara‌:

Usually, military men put them on edge: there was an ego there, a hubris with which they were uncomfortable. But the way he said it was different – maybe he hadn’t been command, maybe that was the difference, but either way it felt like maybe their paths hadn’t been so different from one another after all. They whistled, low. “Fourteen, huh?” they replied, leaning against the empty wall beside them to take some of the strain off the stabilizers that ran down the sides of their legs. 

     “I was aiming for engineering, when I left Titan as a kid, but Vodin picked me up on a security contract instead. Then I didn’t have the experience for this mission to come along as anything else. Looks like it’s for the best: could have ended up like you, otherwise.” They matched his grin, easy, folding their arms over their chest. Waiting for his response. Somehow, this was the most fun they’d had since landing on the damn planet.

“Entered as soon as I could,” Johan said, still walking along the wall. He recognized some of the things that were set up there, some however, was tech that he’d never even heard of. A cautious finger touched at the unfamiliar-- he could almost hear his mother’s words in his ear, curiosity killed the cat. “We probably couldn’t have afforded to send me to a real school anyways. Bootcamp was easier.”

He grinned, “Nothing wrong with me. I’m technically retired.” They’d wanted to stick him back out onto the field after he’d healed post-Persia, and he’d tried it for a few years. It hadn’t of been the same, his connection with his team was fractured-- at the end of his term (eight months) he’d left the service. “UN pension sucks, but it does have dental.” Johan flashed another smile, exposing his real reason for joining the crew, “I couldn’t have let everyone else have all the fun up here.” He jerked his head towards the window. “Ever see one of the hostiles?”

[johanpetterson-blog]

m-ebsen‌:

The entrance of the tent opened to let out a group of people; their happy chattering and the murmurs from inside a stark change to the calmness between him and Johan. The group strode past them but soon disappeared to the darker, less lit part of the camp near their pods. Magnus stayed silent until they were gone, finishing his cigarette and flicking it towards the area where Johans’ own had landed.

Before he could begin to sequester that sadness that began to rumble, Magnus was brought back to the present moment with a sudden twist. It prompted his head to jerk toward Johan, brows creasing. “You were–” His throat closed up, suddenly dry and forced him to swallow. “You were on the team? How, I mean, how are you here?”

Words seemed hard to come by, feeling thrown for a loop. “I mean, the whole crew was lost.” Magnus schooled his impression as best he could, shoving his hands into his jacket for some false sense of armor. “Did you spend time with the others?” He asked quietly, voice shaky.

There was a shift in the conversation, a sudden faltering that had gone from easy to something with much more of an impact-- he paused, wondering where he had gone wrong. Persia was never a good conversational subject, he learned long ago that most people got fidgety around it: the government had failed them, it was an indication that they could very well do it again. Magnus’ reaction however was like that of a door slamming shut and after he spoke, his first thought was easy. Who did you lose?

He allowed a pause to settle between them, looking away from a gaze that was searching for answers. In his throat, he felt a welling of something recognizable, an acrid mixture of guilt and shame. How are you here? The engineer kept his gaze by his shoes,  “Shattered my leg in a stupid accident about a month in. The medics weren’t properly prepared to deal with it, and I was replaceable.” Johan tucked in a breath. “My superiors called me back off world to recuperate. I was in Neos again when it happened.” 

He looked back at Magnus, the last question forcing a hard set of his jaw. “They were my team.” The whole of security had been under his watch and his mind drifted to all of those who hadn’t made it home. Connor, Tristan, Enid, Allison. It wasn’t just security that he’d drawn close to, but the entire mission. Persia was a gaping wound, his expression towards his companion indicated thus.

[johanpetterson-blog]

nacremcnamara‌:

It was nice, to see his attention shift away from the mechanisms that worked their legs to the mech suits on the walls. At least his gaze hadn’t been a judgmental one, like they so often were: more a curious one, appraising, which made sense, with his being an engineer. They were old tech, low tech, nothing like the shiny expensive prosthetics they could have had if they’d stuck out their original Vodin contract, but they were good enough for Nacre, after all this time.

     “Thirteen years, give or take,” they answered. It seemed like most of the chosen security team had more military backgrounds than they did, but that didn’t make their wealth of experience any less valuable. Maybe more: war privileged things like tactical sacrifice, but security played by a whole separate set of rules. “Private, mostly. Corporate. Vodin, for a while, actually. What about you? What brings you to Arcadia?”

“Thirteen years,” Johan repeated, his tone mirroring the impression that the length had made upon him. They didn’t look much younger or older than he-- it meant that most of their adult life, like his, was spent in the service of someone else. They’d been an attack dog on a shinier chain, but the military’s grip upon him had been much the same. “I bet private pays better,” he spoke up now, his head fully behind the machine as he investigated the seams made by welding and the bolts that were used to keep the jaeger together.

The question was mirrored back to him and he lifted his shoulder. “Military.” They all seemed to have experience with violence, it was an asset in a place like this-- especially after the fall of Ballast and Persia. Johan reappeared, standing back in view. “Fourteen years.” His smile was impish, it wasn’t a competition. “I grew up around machines, I’m pretty good at them too. When I left service, I took up a few engineering jobs. Vodin wanted someone who could fight and fix broken things-- it was an easy job offer to take.”

[billy-crudup]

Joel Kinnaman as Erik Heller in Hanna (2019)

[johanpetterson-blog]

gwen-hayes‌:

“Agreed, it can’t begin to compare.” She grunted as she spoke, lifting the heavy trough to move it to a section of the greenhouse that had better light. After arranging some pots around it she stood back to look at her work, satisfied with the layout. As she turned to look back at Johan she peeled the dirt dusty gloves of her hands.

She met his smile with a warm one of her own “You would think they would have been pumping us full of everything we needed in cryo.” Fuck hypersleep. It was so terribly unnatural, and it wrecked your system for days after. Every night since they landed she had woken up at least once with overwhelming nausea washing through her body. She almost wished they had been given the option to stay awake for the journey. But nine months was a long time to be trapped with a large crew.

Nodding as he spoke, she crossed her arm and leaned against the table behind her, giving him her full attention. Gwen resisted the urge to make herself look busy - she was better than that. “Hopefully within the next week everything here will start to settle down. Eventually the C.O.O. will be sending us out into the great unknown.”

Johan made a face at the mention of cyro. “That would’ve been ideal if I didn’t spend most of the first day puking my way into dehydration.” One of the medics had chased after him with a water bottle, threatening him with an IV until he had drained it. The idea of having someone with a constant eye on his stats was strange, like big brother was always there to push him back off the edge if he brought himself to the brink of anything exciting. 

With a few deft twists of the wrist, the casing that covered the light finally fit on properly and he took a step back to admire his handiwork. “Looks good to me,” he said, flicking the switch on and off to ensure his satisfaction with it. The engineer straightened out, stretching long limbs. “Anything else that looks a little dodgy, while I’m here?” 

He nodded. “I’m curious, those woods look fine-- but I wonder what’s in them. Where there’s plant life, there’s got to be animals, but I don’t even know if I’ve seen birds.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

[johanpetterson-blog]

gwen-hayes‌:

His reply earned a faint smile from her, just the corners of her lips turning up slightly.  “No on the contrary is very, very good news. We’ll probably be able to start harvesting decent amounts of food by the end of the second month here. Vodin will be pleased,” She said absentmindedly, eyes following him as he worked. Suddenly realizing she had stopped what she was doing to stare at him, she quickly turned back to her work station, packing the dirt down with more force than necessary. Jesus why am I being so awkward? She though irritably to herself.  

“Probably a combination of both, the soil is extremely dense in the typical nutrient, but there is also an element I can’t identify.” There was nothing more exciting than identifying a scientific mystery, she had hopes to isolate it to study it further, but they hadn’t had time to do much research yet. Uncomfortably feeling that she had probably been behaving somewhat rudely, Gwen paused before following with, “Have you had to a fix up a lot of equipment so far? You would think everything from Vodin would have been packed pristinely.”  

“Means that Milo can stop feeding us that freeze dried crap, too.” Johan reached blindly into his bag, feeling around for a screwdriver as he talked. “I don’t care how good the technology is, nothing beats fresh produce.” He thought briefly of his time on Ballast, where they had eaten like kings-- Neos had it’s share of fresh foods, but its terrain didn’t lend itself to the bounty of others. He glanced over, catching her gaze and grinning. “I bet the medic’ll be over the moon to get some kale into us. Apparently I’m vitamin deficient.”

He nodded, not bothering to pretend to understand the science of growing things any further. His talents lay in practical things, where the predictability was certain. To grow, one required patience-- he tightened the new bulb in it’s casing. Johan’s work usually warranted immediate results. “Not too much, but enough to be annoying. We’ve got other things to build.” The tail end of her words made him shake his head. “There’s nothing wrong with the packing, it’s the unpacking that’s been the issue. Can’t blame their enthusiasm, but throwing equipment out of the ship isn’t the best way to make sure it all stays in top form.”

[johanpetterson-blog]

m-ebsen‌:

“Hardly.” The work was demanding, life-threatening and unforgiving; it took a toll on your body and Magnus had come to find some vices did less harm than they offered a moment’s relief. “Thanks for the heads up.” Not that the medical team could do much if he failed to meet their standards; they were all stuck on the planet, after all. He gave a look of surprise then. “You’re joking,” he laughed incredulously, dragging the back of his hand along his own thick stubble instinctively. “I’ll be on the look out for any razors. Not that they’d get very far.”

Magnus tapped off the excess ash onto the ground. “I respect that.” He had never placed any stock in the hierarchy, other than to keep the order. The higher up the food chain you got, the greyer the area became. He supposed he could have climbed the ranks even further, but the thought of commanding troops from behind the scenes made Magnus’ skin crawl.

His cheek twitched at the name. Years ago, the mere mention of Persia had been enough to level Magnus; like a switch that flooded his senses with grief, incapacitating him. Though the memory of her was bright and clear; Magnus found the loss had been given its own quarters in his mind, no longer a constant reminder. “You lasted longer than me,” he said eventually. “It changed things, for a lot of us.” 

“Never know,” he said with a half smile, tucking in the last of his precious cigarette before flicking it off in the direction of the nothingness that surrounded their camp. It would fizzle out there, a small marker of human life that had invaded the planet. What was more of a human legacy than leaving behind trash? “It’s an alien planet, maybe they’ll evolve and start growing legs.” 

Johan nodded, finding nothing more to say about his stand in his military career. He had been good at what he had done-- (wasn’t the best marker of that the fact that he was still there?) but it was also a chapter of his life that he had hoped to firmly shut the door on. Too many years had been lost being a service to someone else, too many were drenched in loss.

Had he of ruminated further in his own feelings, he would have missed the visceral reaction that seemed to ebb across Magnus’ features. Persia, Ballast, all the failed projects that had lead to nothing more than death and memories that ached. Johan forced a laugh. “I thought if I kept busy, I’d be able to bury it.” His brow raised at the sort of personal inflection that his companion used and it prompted a sort of curiosity. “I was on the team, my crew did security for Persia.”