Routine Maintenance

CSCSS Nomad
JP with Omni and Lorem

Ander and Povel stepped into the dorsal airlock on A Deck, the heavy door sealing shut behind them with a pneumatic hiss. Povel initiated the slight ventilation sequence, depressurizing the chamber and adjusting the temperature to match the frigid conditions outside. As the airlock equalized, a thin mist curled around them, a ghostly veil as the warm air met the cold.

Povel opened the panel storing a spool of safety line, short tethers, and carabiner clips and collected the hefty bundle. The light above the hatch flickered from red to green with a soft beep, signaling that the external environment had been successfully mirrored within.

Povel pushed the hatch open, cold air rushing in as he and Ander ascended the access ladder. They emerged onto the top of the ship, the vast, icy expanse of the planet stretching out before them. They could see the ground team speeding away in their vehicles leaving behind a trail of snowy powder.

The wind, coming in from the east, was a steady force, not overpowering, but enough to remind them of the planet's unpredictable nature.

Povel and the android secured themselves to short safety lines, tethering themselves to the rail track along the hull. The cold metal surface of the ship was already covered in a thin layer of snow underfoot that made moving a little tricky, their footsteps muted by the wind. Together, they made their way to the first work area, the wind pushing at their backs, but the security of their clips holding them steady against the elements.

Povel braced himself against the biting wind as he and Ander began their careful trek across the top of the Nomad. The ship had landed securely on the frozen planet, its massive bulk settled into the icy terrain, surrounded by a bleak expanse of snow and ice. The hull stretched out before them, a vast landscape of darkened metal with patches of frost glinting under the pale, distant sun. The wind howled incessantly, carrying fine ice particles that stuck against Povel’s visor, forcing him to squint as he navigated the slippery surface. His EVA suit's internal heaters hummed steadily, doing their best to fend off the cold that seemed to seep into his very bones.

The safety rigging was their lifeline, each step carefully measured as they inched along the narrow path toward the communications and sensor array. Povel’s boots crunched on the frozen surface, the sound muted by the relentless wind. The tether line scraped against the hull with every movement, a thin vibration transmitting through his arm as he clutched the guide rail. Beside him, Anders moved with unerring precision, unaffected by the harsh conditions. The android’s servos whirred quietly, and the steady blue glow of his optical sensors remained focused on their destination.

Above them, the sky was reasonable clear with blue skies as far as they eye could see. The planet’s surface was a desolate wasteland, stretching out to the horizon with only jagged outcroppings of ice and rock breaking the monotony. The Nomad, grounded and imposing, felt like the only refuge in this inhospitable environment. There was no sensation of speed, no hint of the ship’s usual grace as it cut through space—just the stillness of the planet’s surface, broken only by the relentless wind.

The communications and sensor array loomed ahead, partially shielded by the ship's protective plating. Designed to withstand the rigors of deep-space travel and planetary landings, the array was housed within a retractable cover that protected its delicate components from the planet’s harsh environment. A cluster of antennae and satellite dishes jutted out from the hull, not only facilitating long-range transmissions but also collecting and analyzing data from the surrounding environment. Frost had already begun to accumulate on the equipment, and Povel could see the faint, irregular pulse of data streams flickering across the array’s surface.

Povel’s breath fogged the inside of his helmet as they reached the base of the array. The EVA suit’s gloves, though designed for fine manipulation, felt clumsy as he unhooked the safety line from the rail and attached it to a nearby anchor point. He reached for the toolkit strapped to his side, pulling out a compact diagnostic device. The screen flickered to life, displaying a stream of data from the array, most of it indecipherable to anyone not trained in deep-space communications and sensor technology.

As Povel worked, he adjusted the settings on the array, fine-tuning the equipment to account for the signal interference that had been plaguing their systems due to the building storm. The HUD in his helmet displayed a series of complex diagrams and readouts, the information overlaying his view of the array as he methodically made adjustments. He could feel the cold seeping through his suit, even as the heaters worked overtime to keep him warm. The temperature was dropping as the planet’s rotation brought the sun lower on the horizon.

As they completed the diagnostics in about half an hour, Povel could feel the array stabilizing, the once-erratic signal now a steady stream of data. The array’s sensors also began collecting data from the planet’s surface—geological readings, atmospheric conditions, and other critical information that could potentially aid the Nomad in its mission.

“Array diagnostics complete,” Povel muttered into the comms. “Signal restored and stable. Sensors are online and collecting data. Let’s secure the array, Anders.”

Together, they unrolled the protective covering that had been integrated into the hull’s design—a thick, insulated cover designed to shield the array from the planet’s extreme conditions without compromising its signal and data collection capabilities. The fabric, woven with advanced materials that could repel ice and snow while allowing electromagnetic signals to pass through, was carefully pulled over the array. They fastened it into place with a series of clips and locks to make a tight seal, ensuring that the array would remain protected until they were ready to retract it for use again.