"Understood, MUTHUR," David says to the Covenant's onboard AI as it announces their imminent landing. David's voice is calm and measured, but there's tension in his expression and in his grip on the ship's controls. He's not worried about the crash-- forty seconds. thirty. the ground is fast approaching.-- but there's an illogical flicker of apprehension tickling at the back of his mind. He knows for a fact that he's secured the embryos of both his human colonists and of his children, and yet he feels needless concern about their safety in the face of the upcoming impact. Perhaps this is what humans mean when they talk about "parental instincts."
His head whips forward as the ship meets the ground. He pauses for a moment to regain his bearings, then sets off to check systems, re-secure the embryos, and put out any literal or metaphorical fires that might have erupted throughout the vessel.
Overall, things could be worse. It will take some time to make the necessary repairs, but the Covenant will fly again. Eventually.
...unless it doesn't need to.
The planet on which David's found himself isn't in his databanks. It's uninhabited, it has to be, and although it doesn't seem to be anything like Earth or Origae-6, it's possible that the malfunction that's stranded him here was more fortuitous than frustrating.
What would Elizabeth say? Have a little faith?
He brushes himself off, fixes his hair, and takes his first step into what might be the new Eden.
"..."
What.
David's blink protocols run twice in rapid succession to express precisely how dumbfounded he is by the sight before him. It appears as though there's a human woman some distance away. Every logic circuit in him says that that should not be possible, and yet...
"Hello," he calls out softly, taking a slow step forward. My, my. What do we have here?
@heartfledged !!
