Sol 309

Smokescreen farmed like he always did, harvesting his potatoes and planting more. He scratched at his jaw that had decided to grow a beard. His hair had gotten longer, too, and it took time to brush out. He didn't envy Arcee one bit, whose hair was longer and thicker, and now he knew how she felt.

As he passed the laptop, he tapped play, and RED filtered through the speakers. He sighed, humming along as he put a new mark on a notebook he constructed, marking how many days he had been separated from his team...

Time to walk outside, he thought. He suited up, strapping down his helmet and adjusting his suit. He went to open the door, but he hadn't noticed that the place wasn't fully prepared to endure Mars' pressure, and he had a moment of oops before the whole place burst open.

ooo

Smokescreen stared down at the plants. They were frozen. Dead. His only hope of surviving was gone, and he didn't know when NASA was going to come and get him. His shoulders dropped and he pulled out duct tape and a thick tarp. He secured it over the burst opening with the duct tape after cleaning out his greenroom, and then he corrected his mistake, stabilizing the place and then replacing the oxygen. But before he could go back and weep into Wilson, he had to inform NASA on recent developments..

ooo

Smokescreen. We are sorry to hear what had happened to the greenroom. But due to your story, NASA has been moved into action and we are trying to bring you home. The public is willing to help as well. Unfortunately, we had attempted to surprise you one hundred sols ago with a ride home funded by China, but our excitement led to less security checks and the ship along with thousands of dollars of supplies exploded before ever reaching you. We were too ashamed to contact you about the failure, and so we have been quiet with you. However, we have spoken to your team about your survival, and they are determined to turn around and help you, adding two hundred sols onto their journey. They have already turned around. They are most grateful for our information. In fact, if you look, you will see another chatroom has opened up. You and your team can talk now. Enjoy.

Smokescreen sat back as he processed this. He was heading home. He only had one hundred sols worth of food left. He was determined to cut back on how much he was eating now that he knew help was on the way. Thank Primus for that. Sitting forward, he decided to test out the chatroom with his friends...

Bumblebee had already sent a message.

ooo

Smokescreen. NASA has finally opened up communications with you. About time, right? Let me inform you on the current state of things: It's quieter, there's more room to move around, and no one complains much. In fact, we hardly missed you at all. Ultra Magnus has smiled more, even cracked a few jokes. The only downside is that we have to pick up your chores now, but it's just botany. It's not real science. Try navigating through space for once, see how fun it is...anyway, the others truly miss you. Arcee spends most of her time working out. Optimus hardly eats. Magnus just sits in utter silence. Ratchet wanders around for the most part. Sometimes, I don't even think he knows he's wandering. He just does. As for me? I sit in my bunk, paging through your diary. Sometimes I wonder how have I never done this before? but most of the time I wonder if there will be a day that you march up to me and hit me right in the face for reading your most personal entries and sharing them with the deaf ears of the crew. Talk to you soon, buddy. -Bee

Smokescreen smirked and he looked down at the keys before he rested his fingers on them. Then he started typing.

Bumblebee: Life on Mars is also quiet. I don't have responsibilities, I don't have to listen to Optimus nag me about how dirt isn't as important as whatever he does, and sometimes I go out on the hills to watch the sun rise just because I can. But I'm not saying I don't have more fun than that. Recently, I've blown up the base like an idiot and now have limited myself to less than two hundred sols worth of food, and because I've depended soley on my greenroom of crap and Mars dirt, I've pigged out. My body will hate me for this, but I must begin to fast so I can both conserve food and fit into my clothes once again. Lately I've been dressing in garbage bags and Martian ferns like Adam in the Garden of Eden. I'm waiting for the serpent to show me trees of forbidden fruit so I can eat the whole tree, bark and leaves included. I've also been snuggling with Wilson, Optimus' teddy bear I found on his bunk. He has been well-taken care of and he is my first mate on SS Misery. I am Captain Blond Beard, and Wilson is First Mate Wilson, or FMW. You guys can be my crew and we can be space pirates. Magnus will have to invest in a hook, though...anyway, to conclude: Smokescreen is an idiot and I miss you very much. -CBB

ooo

Bumblebee read Smokescreen's message aloud, looking around at the others as he read. Ratchet had his back to him, his head lowered. Optimus sat in a chair, studying the table. Arcee was doing crunches, already on one hundred and fifty-two, one hundred and fifty-three... Magnus was the only one whose attention was devoted to the screen. A small smile tugged on his lips.

Time was running out. Soon they, Optimus and the others, would have to go to bed as the computer and all the other electronics would power down to conserve energy. So Bumblebee quickly tapped out a response and sent it before the lights started humming as they powered down.

We miss you too, buddy. Good night.