[Location: The Beach Camp] [Time: Day 1. Sunset.]
We got back as the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the ocean in blood-red and violet.
Rook and Silas had built a shelter out of the ship's hull plating. It wasn't pretty, but it would keep the rain off.
"Fire!" Rook shouted proudly. "I got it started!"
A massive bonfire was roaring on the beach. Smoke billowed up into the sky, black and thick.
"Rook, you idiot!"
I dropped the water and sprinted toward the fire.
"Hey!" Silas stepped in front of me. "Back off. We need a signal. If the Fleet is still in orbit—"
"If the Fleet is in orbit, the Enemy is in orbit!" I shouted, shoving past her.
I kicked sand onto the fire.
"What are you doing?!" Silas grabbed my shoulder. "That's our only way off this rock!"
"The Enemy has thermal scanners!" I spun around, my metal arm humming with agitation. "A fire this big lights us up like a flare! Do you want a bombardment strike on our heads?"
Silas shoved me back. "I am in command! You don't make the tactical decisions!"
"I'm keeping us alive!"
She drew her knife. I raised my metal fist.
"Stop it!"
Lyra stood between us. She was trembling, holding her violin case like a shield.
"Please," she whispered. "Stop fighting. The noise... it hurts."
We both froze. Silas glared at me, her chest heaving. She slowly sheathed her knife.
"Put out the fire, Rook," Silas ordered, her voice cold. "Dig a fire pit. Cover it. Low signature only."
She turned to me. "You made your point, Specialist. But if I catch you undermining my authority again, I will have you court-martialed. Even if we are the last five people in the universe."
"Understood," I said.
The fire died. Darkness swallowed the beach.