Share
MidReal Story
Gravity's Edge: Survival on Gallifrey
Scenario:The planet Gallifrey, as it's named by the native population, is a desert planet in a densely populated solar system with seventeen other planets.
Gallifrey is about 31.0 times bigger than Earth and its gravity is about 13.22 times that of Earth.
Create my version of this story
Elara Voss
team leader,friends with Jaxon and rivals with Lyra,short black hair,determined and resourceful
Jaxon Renn
chief engineer,friends with Elara and Lyra,tall with curly brown hair,intelligent and cautious
Lyra Thorne
medic and scientist,rivals with Elara and friends with Jaxon,long red hair in braids,analytical and competitive
I trudge through the sand, my boots heavy.
There’s a way to walk in this shit, but I haven’t mastered it yet.
Every step feels like I’m lifting a thousand pounds.
My legs burn from the effort.
I squint into the bright light.
The suns are high now, beating down on me.
I can feel the radiation seeping into my skin.
We’ve been on this planet for two weeks now.
Two weeks of this sand and radiation and heat.
Two weeks of nothing but rocks and sand and more sand.
Our ship crashed here after passing through a black hole.
We were on our way to another planet for a mission when everything went wrong.
Now we’re stuck here with limited supplies and no way to communicate with the rest of the universe.
"I saw something."
Elara turns to Jaxon, shielding her eyes from the suns.
"What did you see?"
Her voice is tight with tension.
Jaxon points to a distant rock formation.
"There was movement."
My heart pounds in my chest.
We can’t afford surprises like this.
I join them, squinting into the distance.
"Probably a mirage," I mutter.
But my eyes are already scanning the horizon, searching for something out of place.
Elara’s eyes flick to mine, then back to Jaxon.
"Let’s go," she says.
She turns and walks back to the others, shouting orders as she goes.
The team jumps into action, preparing themselves for whatever is out there.
I follow Elara, falling into step beside her.
We move cautiously across the sand, our footsteps quiet despite the heavy boots we wear.
Our blasters are ready in our hands, pointed down at the ground as we walk.
Sweat drips down my face and neck, soaking my shirt and pants.
I wipe my forehead on my arm, then readjust my grip on my blaster.
We’re all dressed in black tactical gear, complete with helmets and oxygen masks to protect us from the suns and sand and thin air of this planet.
