Reviving Eris XII
Note: Image associated is from Ironage.media, specifically their prompt, 'The Excursion'
"Hey, John. Bi-hourly check: how are you guys getting along out there?" The radio crackled in the near-deadly silent cabin as her pilot guided the Extra-Planetary Scout/Terraformer Model 203, or ExPlaST-203, across the slowly changing moon.
"Doing good out here. No one's stir crazy yet." John radioed back through his throat-mike, the growing interference in the checks backing up the data the ExPlaST had collected over the last three weeks. Hieronymos III's moon, Eris XII, was responding well to the Planetarium's efforts. Better than expected, in fact. Perhaps the crackpot theory of it carrying life before was not quite as insane as previously thought.
"Good to hear. Let your teams know, it'll be Lillian from Head Office on the horn your next 4 checks, good luck." John swore in his mind. Lillian was, even by frontier standards, a ball-buster in the extreme. Radio procedure, every bit of data in the terabytes collected, even the power used from heating their rations, would be gone over with a fine-tooth comb. Even a 0.0001% discrepancy would be found, recorded, and then filed away in triplicate. Bonuses probably wouldn't happen this month, though maybe she'll play a bit nicer with everyone after four months in-system.
"Thanks for the heads-up, Henry. Say hi to your Missus and little Ricky for me?" John asked about his not-quite nephew, Henry's six-year-old son, who'd been born sickly. Docs were trying gene therapy the last time Henry had been willing to talk about it. Two weeks should've been enough time for progress to be made. Still, it was not the easiest thing to ask about, but he cared for the kid the same as Henry and Rebecca did.
"Will do. Keep your head on straight and you'll see them next week. See you then, signing off." Henry's words didn't betray much, but his tone sounded better even through miles of space. At the least, it wasn't strained as it had been when he'd told John that Ricky was in the hospital again. That little bit of hope lifted John's mood from contented to just this side of happy, even as he passed word to the nine other crews of Lillian's shift as controller for the mission on Eris XII. Multiple grumbles rolled back through his radio as the other 45 people on this slightly less than barren rock not in his ExPlaST heard the news. He even heard the two awake crew in his, sighing in frustration as they finished their 'food' before beginning to run through every system, diagnostic and update to get up-to-date numbers in time for their next check. At least John wouldn't be the one driving when the next check came through, though being the mechanic for that shift meant he could still be called to account for a discrepancy if Matthew couldn't answer Lillian's questions to her satisfaction. Damn Navy-inspired shift schedule. At least he'd have six hours to sleep through after.