27-43

c o m m u n i c a t i o n (Noun.)

the imparting or exchanging of information or news

As soon as the three --not including Selcouth as he was still not allowed within the building's walls-- entered the laboratory, all they could hear was the sound of those all-familiar dings echoed through the room. It was one after the other and a very little number of pauses between. The longest pause they heard was maybe thirty seconds.

Elain was on her chair in an instant, pulling up the chat that was causing the most commotion. It wasn't hard to see that everyone was awake and everyone was set on edge.

'Are we even sure that was HQ?'

'No.'

'Not entirely...'

'I doubt Head Quarters has been hacked.'

The messages went on and on. They flew by so quickly that Elain couldn't even see who sent what in most instances. She even had people written as their site numbers rather than their names to give them an easier time and, yet, it was still a hard time for her and the men peering over her shoulders to understand who sent what. If it wasn't for today, she would've forgotten that there was at least one hundred human people with them on the planet's surface.

Each of the sent messages were related to something that was posted by Head Quarters itself --or rather what it didn't post, since most of the digital responses were about Head Quarters not being in control. Elain found it hard to believe that Head Quarters finally sent something out just for it to wreak havoc in their chat, even though it was one hundred percent what just happened.

The biologist took Milo by the elbow and sat him in the chair she just left, ordering him to monitor the livestream, while she began to search through her email. She had multiple ways to get an electronic message, but none of them seemed to hold the answer to whatever everyone was causing chaos for. She checked her email, work and personal, then Milo's emails, all the way down to checking their history of alert messages. There was absolutely no digital trace from a new message via HQ. It was starting to drive her nuts. All this hype from visiting the native's nests began to dissolve considerably and they hadn't even been there for ten minutes yet. Brotte, sensing the rising panic, twitched and tapped behind them.

After twenty minutes of searching, she melted back into her rolling chair. "I can't find anything! There isn't even any residue in the code of whatever these scientists are bugging out about."

Milo stretched her way to try and see over her. The computer no longer had the code on the screen, rather resembling the one he was currently monitoring instead. He turned to give her his attention instead so he could report his lack of findings.

She beat his words to the punch, "There are hours of back-and-forth messages, yet no one decides to mention the problem at hand?"

"I suppose they do mention the problem," her assistant began in a meek voice, like he was expecting the terrible glare he was about to receive but couldn't help himself, "The problem is that everyone has a message from Head Quarters, even though it went offline."

Elain let out a frustrated groan, "Don't be a smart alec." The boy let out a soft sorry, but she was busy pushing away Brotte's hands when he tried to pick up the computer again. When the native finally stopped and took her arms in his instead, she sighed. "You're fine, I'm just frustrated. Can you please send a message to the chat for me? Let's find out what this is all about."

Brotte grumbled as he picked at her nails, which they were very blunt in comparison to his sharp nails. When he was done examining them, his attention swiveled to her choice in clothing. Her tank-top this evening was tight against her body with puffy black cargo pants. Her glasses seemed to intrigue him as the humanoid pulled them from her face and put them on himself, looking around the room to find some sort of difference. If this had been hundreds of years ago, maybe he would be dizzy or disorientated. With the technology they had now, the glasses should have refocused to fit his own prescription, though it may struggle since he didn't have defined pupils. This was confirmed when the curious creature jumped and tore the accessory away from himself and back into her possession.

"According to 79-15, HQ has been sending distress signals along with flairs, which makes sense as to why we haven't heard anything from them. We weren't above ground."

There was a few more noises as the boy began tapping against the keyboard keys again. A ding sounded as another reply came through.

"The place has sent an S.O.S. signal. The entirety of the spacecraft is going to initiate a manual crash at the edge of one of the planet's ocean systems."

Elain spun her chair to look at her assistant in confusion, but he was still looking at the chat with his own furrowed brows. Brotte didn't mind the exchange, only giving a huff when she made it harder for him to examine hair. She would give in to his curious nature at any time except now. "What why?"

"I have no idea."

"No, honestly, why." She sat up from her slouched position with a frown, "Most people on there wouldn't make it on Maia for twenty-four hours. Most people on Head Quarters were born there. They haven't even stepped foot on Earth, the dead planet. There should be no point in bring the ship down. They're our satellite as well. That'll take down all communication between sites."

Her mind ran a mile a minute, trying to understand the thought process. She had known the captain before she was put to sleep for all those years. The biologist had researched every available tidbit she could about the captain of the ship, as she did with her 'boss.' He was a sound man and wouldn't do something unless it was a last resort, or his superiors had demanded otherwise. He had done multiple space trips and never encountered an issue. This should not be necessary. They had plenty of what they needed up there, even if something was to happen. If they did an emergency crash landing it would kill off more than three fourths of the staff on board. This was nonsense.

"It's getting late. Go rest up, I'll take care of doing the background checks," the scientist waved away the boy when she noticed his drooping eyes. He had a long day, they both had, but one of them needed to fact check. She took the job upon herself, even when the yawn escaped. "If this is true, pray that it isn't, then we're going to have a lot of planning while we wait for it to actually happen." That includes written notes to anyone he left back on Earth and setting signals between close biome sites.

Milo did as he was told, but she needed to take Brotte by the shoulders and made him sit on her bed. Then she went off to work.

First stop? Checking out the light show that Head Quarters is giving them.