William blinked as the EMT passed the flashlight across from one eye to the other, his vision swimming for half a second before clearing again. The light clicked off, and William scooped his helmet off the table beside him, holding it between his hands in his lap.

  “I’m not seeing any signs of a concussion,” the man said, already sounding relieved with the answer. He straightened and reached up into the rover’s overhead cabinet, pulling down a thin diagnostic pad and snapping a cable into William’s suit port.

  A soft chime sounded as the suit’s data streamed across the screen. “Vitals are clean. Impact dampeners did their job, and nothing unusual is cropping up from your biometrics.” The EMT glanced at the readout, then at William.

  “Little elevated heart rate, but I’d be more worried if it wasn’t.”

  William let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The rover smelled faintly of antiseptic and recycled air, sharp enough to sting his nose. He shifted on the bench seat, the fabric creaking under his weight.

  He was rather glad that the rover acted as its own mini environment. It made sense, of course. If someone needed emergency surgery, you couldn't do it through the thick layers of a suit. And you didn't want your patients suffocating from lack of oxygen as you checked on them.

  “Carlton?” he asked, voice scratchy.

  “Across from ya,” came the reply. Carlton lifted

  his arm an inch, the motion slow and deliberate. A patch of dark bruising was already blooming on his wrist and forearm. The detached arm case sitting on the floor, ready to be re-attached at any moment. “Doc says It’ll look real pretty tomorrow.”

  “Muscle strain,” the EMT added without looking up. “and some minor fracturing. You’re lucky it wasn't worse with how much you swung around.”

  Carlton snorted. “I keep hearin’ tha’- ow ow ow!” He flinched away as the EMT began spraying quick plaster onto his skin, holding his entire arm steady and glaring at him as if daring the man to move away.

  Through the open comms, William could hear raised voices- Quirie’s calm, clipped tone cutting through the murmur of technicians and survey crews swarming Drill 4b. Somewhere beyond that, someone was inspecting the crater that had been their dig site.

  The EMT disconnected the pad and sealed William’s suit port. “You’re cleared for light duty once command signs off. No drilling today.” A pause. “Probably for the best you take tomorrow off as well, just in case.”

  William nodded slowly. His hands still felt like they were buzzing, phantom vibrations left over from the collapse. He stared down at them, flexing his fingers once, then again.

  “Hows Jeff?” He asked, looking back up. The EMT shrugged, then seemed to mute the line to William as his lips moved behind the visor. There was a click as he re connected.

  “He has a cracked rib, but otherwise okay.”

  “Cracked rib my ass, I’m not paying premiums-” Jeff’s gravelly voice barked over the comm from the other rover.

  William flinched. That wasn’t anger. That was reflex, and one he knew far too well.

  “Sir, you’re covered entirely by Mars Medical,” the EMT said patiently. “Fifty dollar fee. That’s standard, you need to calm down before you worsen your injury.”

  “Get me outta this damn debt box,” Jeff snapped back anyway, clearly not listening.

  “And rowdy.” The EMT commented dryly, putting away the rest of his tools and patting Williams back firmly.

  “I wouldn't call that rowdy, I'd call that-” William began, but the EMT shook his finger and tapped his helmet. Ah- william thought, right. He's trying not to agitate him.

  “He'll need to calm down if he's gonna get the bonus for safety today.” The EMT dropped, making sure the last part was clearly heard over comms.

  “Bonus?” Jeff asked, and immediately switched tone as he heard the phrase- hopeful, even.

  “Yep, because nobody has any serious injuries, and you followed safety protocol, you'll all get a safety bonus.”

  Jeff went quiet as William raised an eyebrow at the EMT- who went back to putting his tools away, glancing at his partner- while the foam around Carlton's arm hardened.

  William didn’t smile- but the tension in his shoulders eased just a bit.

  “Yeah,” the EMT said, after waiting for Jeff to add onto his statement. “Safety compliance bonus. Crew qualifies if the incident report checks out.” There was a pause on the other end of the line.

  “…how much?” Jeff asked, his voice still tense- but attentive.

  “Enough to cover the fee,” the EMT replied evenly. “And some extra for yourself.”

  Another pause.

  “…okay,” Jeff muttered, “And do we qualify?”

  The EMT arched an eyebrow behind his visor. “Yeah, I don't see why not. You followed procedure to a T.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  William leaned back against the rover wall, helmet resting loosely in his hands. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving behind the dull ache that always came after. Not pain, exactly. Just phantom aches.

  Quirie’s voice cut in again, steady as ever.

  “Listen up,” she said. “Survey team confirmed the void pocket. We shut down Drill 4b until further notice, it goes deeper than we thought.”

  William closed his eyes briefly, leaning back against the rover wall as the EMT opened the airlock to the front of the vehicle- disappearing behind the door.

  “Good catch, Nightingale,” she added. Not praise. Acknowledgment. It felt nice.

  He opened his eyes again, looking down at the red dust smeared across his gloves.

  “…just doing my job,” he replied.

  “Yeah,” Isaac hopped into the comms line-likely from the same rover Jeff was in. “That’s kinda the point now, isn’t it?”

  The rover hummed softly as it turned back toward base, William tapping his fingers against the helmet.

  “I suppose it is, but before- before we did half a job, and a third of one on a bad day.”

  The comm went silent for a long moment at that line- not even the survey crews speaking.

  “Yeah.” Isaac broke the silence, his voice wavering slightly. “Or you got the ‘special assignment.’ “

  William tensed at the words, but before he could respond both EMTs cut into the conversation like a knife- voices nearly in sync.

  “How about lunch?”

  - - - -

  Jeff hissed through his teeth as he hung up his environmental suit, one hand rubbing his chest. Probably the cracked rib the EMT's had mentioned.

  “Smarts, don't it?” Carlton chimed in besides him, grinning like an ass before wincing himself as he attempted to use his own injured limb.

  “Stones in glass houses…” Quirie murmured, slipping off her own suit.

  “ey! My house is at least made out of rein’ forced glass, thank ya very much.” Carlton defended himself, wrestling off his suit with great difficulty.

  “More like a glass vase.” William commented, unhooking his suit with practiced ease and placing it on its docking station in one smooth motion. Nearly everyone paused and looked towards him simultaneously.

  “Hey, I can joke too.”

  Isaac, the only one who hadn't turned to look, slowly leaned back to finally join in on the staring fest.

  William rolled his eyes and began walking towards the cafeteria, pulling out his second food chip- blue again. The crew joined him moments later, Jeff lagged behind slightly as the strain of movement agitated his injury.

  “Blue?” Isaac asked, pulling his own orange chip from his data pad and looking from his own to Williams.

  “Yep.” Jeff answered, pulling out his own orange chip and flicking it into the air like a coin. “Two potatoes for the hero of the day.”

  “Why?” Cartlon reached the door first, surprisingly. He waited for the airlock to cycle as he looked back at William. “What? I'm curious. Ya almost always ‘ave th’ standard meal, even when we exceed quota.”

  Quirie placed a hand on Williams shoulder, shaking her head. “He doesn't have to tell us. Maybe he just likes baked potatoes a lot.”

  The door slid open, and all five of them entered the cafeteria at once. Getting in line for their lunch smoothly and without a fuss.

  The cafeteria was quieter than usual- low hum of vents, muted conversation from other crews scattered across the room. Trays slid along rails. Machines hissed and clicked as meals were dispensed with practiced efficiency. No one really thought about what they picked.

  Orange chips went in. Water. Juice. Protein shakes- and one extra drink that wasn't there this morning.

  William handed over his chip, the worker taking out two potatoes. Butter. His cube of cheese- his seasoning, and slid the tray toward him. Standard ration. Same as always. He stepped aside to let Jeff limp past, then reached out and grab the water bottle that went with his meal.

  He stopped. In Isaac's hands was a small cylinder. But not one he'd seen for at least a year. Not since the peace treaties were signed.

  Earth-brand logo. Clean lines. Bright colors that didn’t belong on Mars. An energy drink- one of the imported ones, not the local knockoffs. The kind you grew up with, and never thought twice about where it came from until it was missing. He stood there for half a second too long.

  Jeff noticed first. Then Quirie. Isaac’s eyes flicked up, and raised an eyebrow. As if asking what?

  Carlton, oblivious as ever, dropped into a chair with a clatter. “Dibs on the corner seat. Arm says I earned it.”

  William didn’t say anything, simply grabbing the drink and holding it up. Eyes hardening as he continued looking at it. It was definitely a subsidiary company of the big three, but which one he wasn't sure.

  “What up Will?” Jeff asked, taking a sip of his orange juice.

  Metal chairs scraped softly against the floor as the crew settled in. Jeff exhaled hard as the cold drink went past his injury, stretching the muscles.

  William cracked the seal on the can. The sharp hiss was loud in the quiet moment that followed.

  “Hey! That's mine!” Isaac called out, reaching for the can.

  He took a sip- moving away from Isaac and grimacing.

  It tasted too- right. Too sweet. Too familiar.

  “William?” Quirie asked, looking up from her own seat.

  “I'll- be right back.” William hissed through clenched teeth, barely managing to not crush the can kn his hand as he turned away and began storming out of the cafeteria- only getting angrier as he spotted more and more of the drink in people's hands.

  William didn’t slow down until the corridor began to fill with- doors. Not airlocks, but doors. His boots echoed loudly against the polished floor as he came to a stop outside Albert’s office, breath tight in his chest. The door was closed.

  Frosted glass. Voices inside- muffled, professional, calm. A meeting. It seemed pretty tense as well, so he decided against busting down the door and ruining it.

  He looked down at the can in his hand. Bright. Too bright. Blurry, cheaply made lines that didn’t belong in a place built with care and attention. He rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling the chill through the thin metal.

  This shouldn’t be here.

  His jaw tightened. He could feel the words already lining up in his head- sharp, unfair, ready to be thrown like weapons instead of used like tools.

  The can crackled softly under his grip. William stopped. He exhaled through his nose and loosened his hand before he crushed it outright. His shoulders were tight- and he forced himself to roll them back, one at a time. The tension didn’t go away, but it shifted. Became manageable.

  Yelling won’t fix this. It never did. Not before, not now. He knew that. Knew it the same way he knew how deep a drill could go before it hit a deposit.

  Inside the office, someone laughed. A polite sound. The kind meant to smooth over numbers and decisions already made. William swallowed and reached up, rubbing at the base of his neck through his collar. He stared at the drink again, this time with less anger. Not just what it was- but what it meant. Who approved it. How easily it slid back in, how the grimy, money hungry fingers of earth managed to touch this pristine place.

  The door slid open.

  A man in a clean gray jacket stepped out, already talking into his datapad, eyes never landing on William. An executive. An earth executive. He couldn't ever forget how they moved, how they talked. Their disregard for everyone around them.

  “Yeah yeah, the deal has been made. Honestly didn't get much out of it. He was pretty…”

  His voice faded as he headed away from the offices, disappearing down the hall.

  The door shut again, and William waited half a second longer than necessary. Calming himself as much as he could before standing, pushing open the door and placing the drink on Albert's desk.

  “What the hell is this Albert.”