The Drop-Wing Skimmer hovered on its landing platform, engines growling like an animal barely restrained. A single transport—sleek, experimental, and infuriatingly small. It could carry five people at most, six if they didn't mind crushed ribs.
And hundreds were waiting to go.
Lily stood beside the ship, arms crossed, expression caught somewhere between fury and disbelief. "Of all the people he could pick," she muttered, glaring at the Skimmer, "why me?"
Servitors hurried around her, loading containers of supplies. Each box shrank and clanked shut, adding to the rhythm of frustration pounding at her temples. This wasn't work; it was punishment disguised as work.
The datapad in her hand chirped with another status update—fuel levels stable, internal pressure optimal—as if mocking her.
"Perfect," she grumbled. "Everything's working except the part where I have to fly this thing for an entire day."
When the ship's diagnostics beeped again, she slammed the pad against the edge of the console. The screen flickered, half of the display dying instantly.
A moment later, Anton Vanko cleared his throat cautiously. "Lily, forgive me for asking, but… where are our space suits?"
Lily blinked, her irritation freezing in place. "You're what?"
"Our suits," said Ivan Vanko. "For Mars. You know—no air, no pressure, instant death?"
For a heartbeat, her mind went blank. Then she squinted at them, lips parting slightly. "...Oh."
Ivan frowned. "Oh?"
"Right. Oxygen." She dragged a hand through her hair. "Then why didn't anyone mention that before?"
Anton hesitated. "We assumed you had already accounted for it."
Lily groaned. "Of course you did." She grabbed the half-broken datapad, stabbing at the communicator until the screen barely stabilised. "Luthar!" she barked into the line. "Are you even listening right now? Did you forget the oxygen part?"
There was a pause—long enough for her foot to start tapping.
Then his calm voice came through, deep and measured. "Handled. Small base with improved atmosphere. The underground habitat has a fully regulated nitrogen-oxygen mix, pressure-balanced. You'll breathe better there than on Earth."
Her annoyance flickered into suspicion. "Wait, already handled? When?"
"A few days ago."
She stared at the screen. "You modified the air of another planet without telling me?"
"The living sectors only," he replied. "The surface remains hostile due to radiation, but underground is ready. All the agents will be staying there for safety and convenience."
Lily pressed her lips together, forcing down the urge to throw the datapad. "You could've told me that before I had a mild heart attack."
"I assumed you would check," he said, tone utterly unbothered. "Or at least read the environmental report I sent."
Her teeth clicked audibly. "I'll read your report when I finish reading the other reports."
"Excellent," came his indifferent reply. The line clicked off.
Lily exhaled sharply through her nose, muttering, "Excellent, he says… I'll show him excellent."
The Vankos watched her in cautious silence. She finally looked up, forcing a brittle smile. "Good news. You won't suffocate. We've got underground facilities with breathable air. No suits needed."
Ivan blinked. "So we can just… build houses there?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, on the surface it's not safe for now, but you can do it underground." She turned toward the Skimmer, muttering under her breath, "By the time I'm done, I'll have permanent jet lag."
She climbed the ramp, dropped into the pilot's seat, and ran a quick systems check. The ship hummed to life, instruments glowing a pale blue.
Her fingers hovered over the controls as she looked out across the hangar one last time—rows of people, crates, and machinery stretching endlessly. This was only the beginning, the first of countless flights.
She sighed. "All right. Let's make lots of exhausting trips."
---
The Drop-Wing Skimmer hummed steadily as it left Earth orbit, engines burning with controlled precision. Outside the cockpit, stars stretched in endless black, the red dot of Mars growing gradually brighter over the hours of travel. Lily watched the navigation feed, tapping her fingers on the console with mounting impatience. The surface shimmered faintly as the craft approached the Martian atmosphere, endless dust plains carved by ancient storms waiting below.
Lily leaned forward, watching the scanners align with Luthar's coordinates. "Subterranean base, Section A-3," she murmured. "Better not be a glorified cave."
The descent sequence kicked in. The ship bucked slightly, compensating for the gravity shift. Outside, sand swirled violently, turning the horizon into a rolling wall of crimson haze.
"Time to land," she muttered, flipping a switch. The Drop-Wing responded instantly, engines whining as it plunged toward what looked like solid rock.
Then—the ground opened.
A perfect circular hatch retracted, revealing a faint light below. The Drop-Wing slipped through, vanishing into the Martian crust.
Inside the vast underground chamber, artificial daylight panels lined the ceiling. Air readouts confirmed Earth-level oxygen, mild humidity, and a clean, ionised flow.
The ship touched down on a platform suspended over a reservoir of reflective water—part of the habitat's filtration system. The air smelled faintly of ozone and fresh soil. For a moment, Lily forgot her annoyance. The place looked… alive.
A cluster of drones moved forward, guiding her into position. The doors hissed open.
"Atmosphere confirmed," the automated system reported. "Welcome to Mars Base One."
She looked around—glass corridors, hydroponic chambers blooming with green growth, and transparent walls displaying different sections of the base. Whatever Luthar had done, it was more than just atmosphere control; it was an entire ecosystem.
Still, practicality won over awe. She turned toward the main corridor, speaking to herself. "All right. Drop-off, report, go back, repeat." She stretched her shoulders. "Only twenty more trips."
By the time she returned to the surface, her enthusiasm had dissolved.
The second flight was worse. The third almost made her swear off piloting forever. By the fifth run, she muttered threats at the ship. "You and I are going to have words after this," she growled, punching the stabiliser console when the ship started shaking.
During the sixth trip, her patience finally snapped when a group of agents asked the same question as before about food and oxygen.
By the ninth run, she had stopped responding verbally. Her hair was a mess, her uniform half-unzipped, and she'd started talking to the Skimmer as if it were a living being.
"Can't you fly any faster?" she hissed at the controls. The ship beeped innocently.
---
From Earth, a familiar voice cut through the comm link.
"I bet you've spent more time in space than NASA," drawled Tony Stark. "Seriously, how much did the priest pay you to babysit this rustbucket nonstop? If it's less than a million, you could moonlight as a SHIELD pilot—and they'd throw in ten million and child insurance."
Lily froze mid-step. "Tony? You're… on Earth."
"I know. And I'm staying here," Tony replied smoothly. "But I can monitor the comms and keep an eye on this little school field trip of yours. Seriously, you realise that thing violates every aerospace regulation ever written?"
She gave him a flat look. "We're on Mars. I'm pretty sure none of your laws apply here."
Tony opened his mouth, paused, and sighed. "Touché."
For a moment, they simply stood there—the hum of the engines filling the silence. Then he tilted his head. "So… do you at least have coffee and a chair when I can sit and talk?"
Lily smirked. "Ask Luthar. Last I checked, we don't even have a kitchen."
Tony blinked. "That… sounds bad."
Author note: so the support is so bad that for every person join me 4 is leaving at this rate im even afraid of uploading chapter since every time I upload a chapter on patreon someone is leaving. Only thing I can talk about is the benefits which are decent but I guess the novel is no longer attractive enough as for the new work even doubting if they would able to do something.
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