Concept Designer

The Prism

 

Lance Corporal Speers, Callen E., Ceres HQ

Platoon morale has been on edge lately, what with the recent lost patrols and that eight ball NCO caught leaking intel to the natives. I hate to lose anyone, but I’m glad he’s gone. The machine has to stay oiled, prepared, ready. Out here, there’s nothing else. Just each other. The old man has been keen on keeping everyone as informed as he can, so I guess that’s something.

Muldoon’s distress signal began to fade some time yesterday, well before I could reach his last GPS location. I never found a body, just a few scattered pieces of gear half buried in the ice. Another fruitless chore, I thought, until I saw the prism. At first glance it looked quite beautiful there, hovering amidst rolling pockets of clouds, but impressions of awe quickly gave way to apprehension, then fear.

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