I wake up on a small but very comfortable mattress in one of the station’s cabins. It would seem this is my new bedroom. My head is still swimming from the descent, and my stomach has yet to fully settle, but I’m able to survey the room without too much difficulty. Spartan and cramped. Functional though. No windows, and a tiny metal desk—

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. “Enter.”

It’s Commander Bryce, grinning smugly. “I see the ride down here was a little much for you, Stanton.”

I remember the stain on my flight suit. “Sir…” I groan, and try to sit up. My body’s not responding like it should. The simple task of getting out of bed is like lifting a full drum of crude. Am I still disoriented? This is exhausting.

The commander sees the pained look on my face. “Very well then, we can talk later.” He procures a fresh uniform and sets it on my desk. “Put this on. It’ll counteract the gravity. Meet me in the mess hall in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Stanton?”

“Yes?”

“Try to be on time.”