They both knew the odds. The transmission they had intercepted—the one that had cost them their extraction team—was currently cooling in the data-pad between them. It was the key to shutting down the atmospheric processors, the only way to give the sky back to the people. But to deliver it, they had to cross the bridge. And the bridge was guarded by things that didn't feel the rain.
"When this is over," Sarah said, picking up her pulse rifle and checking the charge for the tenth time, "I’m going to sleep for three days. No boots on. No listening for the sound of a drone. Just… silence." [S5E10] When This Is Over
He sat across from Sarah, the glow of a single data-pad illuminating the sharp lines of her face. They were surrounded by the ghosts of their mission: half-empty ration packs, frayed wires, and the heavy silence of a radio that hadn’t chirped in days. They both knew the odds
"Soil under my fingernails instead of grease. We’ll plant things that don't need a hydroponic UV cycle to survive. Tomatoes. Real ones. The kind that taste like sunlight." But to deliver it, they had to cross the bridge