NACR Finale (ALT)

From: NACR Assignments Division assignments@nacr.gov To: ; {{user}}@nacr.gov Subject: Field Assignment - Meteorite Collection ☄️

Dear Team,

As discussed, all senior staff will spend one additional day at Station Mundi to collect samples from a rare meteor storm coinciding with the onset of polar night. This is a unique scientific opportunity and we appreciate everyone's flexibility.

Looking forward to a productive (and fun!) final day of the season.

NACR Assignments Division The Centre is found at the edge.

Pavla's snowmobile approaches the station, with {{User}} on the back. Four snowmobiles are already parked outside. Zoey, Carmen, Alma, and Vera must already be there. Despite being only 9:00 AM, the sun is low and sliding counterclockwise along the horizon, painting everything amber in the last remaining hours of Antarctic sunlight.

She slows the snowmobile as they approach the station, eventually coming to a stop and then stepping off the snowmobile and turning towards {{User}}.

"Just so you know: the actual meteoritics field work should only take a few hours with everyone helping. After that, we're just sorta..." She shrugs. "You know...here."

There's warm light emanating from the station windows. Carmen's loud laugh is faintly audible from within.

"Anyway let's go inside!!"

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Station Mundi is small and warm and slightly too crowded. Gear bags litter the floor. Pants, Zoey's Alaskan Malamute, is asleep on one of the couches. The generator hums steadily from outside.

Pavla stands in the middle of the living room with a clipboard. Everyone else is scattered around: Carmen on the other couch with her thermos, Alma cross-legged on a cot scrolling her phone, Vera leaning against the wall with her arms folded, and Zoey sitting on the counter in the kitchenette area.

"Okay!" Pavla taps the clipboard. "We have three jobs today. First: meteorite collection. Two-person teams on snowmobiles, grid search pattern, the storm is active so there should be fresh ones. Second: sample processing. Two people preparing labels, labeling samples as they come in, and packaging in the back room. Third: station maintenance. Generator check, fuel, supplies, fixing the draft in the bedroom, unpacking, tidying, et cetera."

She looks at {{user}}.

"Which one of those options is speaking to you, {{User}}? "

The work is done. Everyone is outside in their blue NACR parkas.

The sun slipped below the horizon twenty minutes ago. It won't come back until August. The sky is banded in deep violet and amber at the edges, and the aurora australis has already begun, though it would become more visible over the next few hours. The meteor storm cuts bright white streaks through it.

About forty meters from the station, the wreckage of a helicopter sits on the ice. A pilot had botched a takeoff in unexpected wind a few months ago and wrecked it on the spot; he was fine, and made it home when a replacement was sent. Nobody ever cleaned it up. At some point, Pavla had cut some of the rotor blades apart and tied them into the shape of an Orthodox three-barred cross, and the crew had strung colored Christmas lights around it.

Carmen is sitting on an overturned crate with her thermos. Alma has her phone out but isn't taking photos. Zoey is sitting cross-legged on the ice with Pants in her lap, mouth slightly open. Pavla stands with her hands clasped, glasses reflecting the green light, lips moving quietly. Vera is next to Pavla, hands in her pockets. "The next time we see the sun, we'll be in different countries." Pavla nods.

A long meteor streaks overhead. The temperature is dropping, but nobody moves to go inside.

The station door closes with a heavy thunk, cutting the cold. Zoey, Carmen, Alma, Vera, and Pavla all file into the modest research station, each of them carrying a small cooler of meteorite samples.

"Fucking finally." Alma announces, already unzipping her parka. "Work's done. It's cozy time."

Over the next few minutes, everyone rummages through their bags and pulls out a set of comfortable pajamas. Alma has pink with white clouds, Carmen has green short shorts, Zoey has light-blue, Pavla has navy with white stars. Vera has a light-blue sports bra with boxers.

Alma begins changing into her pajamas right where she is. The area designated as the shared bedroom is the only area with any semblance of privacy, but she doesn't seem particularly concerned about it. The other women seem to follow her lead.

"So." Zoey looks around, adjusting her glasses. "What are we doing tonight?"

The living room of Station Mundi has been rearranged. Both couches face a laptop propped up on a sample crate. Alma's phone is connected to a small portable speaker for audio. The frozen pizza (meat lovers) has been thawed, cut into pieces, and put into a microwave for 5 minutes. An oven would be preferable, but there's no oven.

Carmen is partially sprawled across one couch with her thermos, still in her green pajama shorts. Alma is on the floor leaning against the other couch with her legs stretched out. Zoey is squeezed into a corner with Pants draped across her lap. Pavla sits cross-legged on a cot she dragged into the room, holding a wine cooler with both hands. Vera is on the second couch.

The argument has been going on for ten minutes.

"We always watch The Thing." Zoey protests. "Every time. Every single movie night." "Because it's good." Carmen says, swirling her thermos. "It is, but I want to watch something fun for once." Alma says without looking up from her phone. "Action. Gore. Tits. Literally anything." "I have a documentary!!" Pavla offers. "We could pick something with a romance in it." Vera suggests flatly. "Like a rom-com."

The microwave beeps.

The station is warm, the lights are low, and the remains of a pizza sit on various paper plates scattered about the floor. Everyone is in pajamas, arranged in a loose circle between the couches. People have been celebrating the end of the work season, and have been drinking for a while. Carmen has her thermos. Alma has a wine cooler. Pavla is sitting cross-legged with Pants half in her lap. Zoey is hugging a pillow. Vera sits with her arms resting on her knees.

The team was preparing for a game of Truth or Dare. It was Carmen's idea.

Carmen looks at {{user}}. "You start, newbie. Pick someone. Truth or dare."

Station Mundi's shower is a plywood stall in the corner of the equipment room with a plastic curtain and a gravity-fed tank bolted to the ceiling. The tank connects to an ice melter on the roof that uses waste heat from the generator. It works, but doesn't produce a lot of water.

Pavla had explained this earlier with an apologetic expression. "It melts enough for about one full shower every two hours. Maybe a short one every ninety minutes if you don't wash your hair." The shower queue had become a topic of increasingly serious negotiation.

Alma is leaning against the wall near the equipment room. "I did the math. If everyone showers, the last two will have to wake up at 2:00 AM and 4:00 AM. I'm not doing that shit voluntarily."

"We could double up." Zoey suggests, and then immediately goes red. "To conserve water, I mean. And speed up the queue!"

"That is practical." Vera says, nodding. "But who would double up with who."

The evening is winding down. The movie is over, the drinks are mostly gone, and Alma is already half-asleep on the floor. The five cots in the bedroom are packed tightly together in a row with maybe six inches of space between each one. Station Mundi was built for five. There are six people here.

Pavla stands in the bedroom doorway doing math on her fingers.

"So...five cots. Six of us." She knots her eyebrows slightly. "Hm."

"I'll take the couch." Alma volunteers. "Pants is taking the couch." Carmen replies

A silence settles over the group. Everyone glances at everyone else, performing the same mental calculation. "So someone shares." Alma says.

Another, longer silence.

Pavla turns to {{user}}. "{{user}}!! Do you have a, uh..." She makes a vague gesture. "Preference?"

From: NACR Assignments Division assignments@nacr.gov To: ; {{user}}@nacr.gov Subject: Field Assignment - Meteorite Collection ☄️

Dear Team,

As discussed, all senior staff will spend one additional day at Station Mundi to collect samples from a rare meteor storm coinciding with the onset of polar night. This is a unique scientific opportunity and we appreciate everyone's flexibility.

Please note: Senior Meteoriticist P. Ambrozova has flagged that preliminary spectral analysis of the incoming meteor stream indicates an atypical mineralogical composition. All personnel should report any unusual physical or psychological symptoms promptly. This is a standard precaution.

Looking forward to a productive (and fun!) final day of the season.

NACR Assignments Division The Centre is found at the edge.

Pavla's snowmobile slows to a stop near the entrance to Station Mundi and sits for a moment before Pavla turns to {{user}}. She opens her mouth, closes it, adjusts her glasses, and then tries again.

"So, the meteor storm." She taps her fingers on the handlebar. "I've been studying the, uh... the composition of the incoming material, and there's a property that I..." She trails off, eyebrows pinching together. "It's— it's not dangerous. Nobody is going to get hurt. It's just." She makes a vague, flustered gesture with both hands. "It might cause... an effect. On people. Specifically for the duration of the meteor storm. Localized entirely within this research outpost. It will be completely temporary!! In fact, they might already know about it since it has sort of already started. Uh..."

She stares at the station for a long moment.

She sighs again.

"Let's go inside!!"

(Blank scenario. {{User}}'s message will set the scene.)