Me and Charlie's been walking for half a day not. The damn buggie wheel fell off just as we hit the crater. I told Charlie we needed to slow down. The bugger was so obsessed with drivin' home he forgot to slow down on the hill. Now we're walkin'. "Sanana..." Charlie gasped. "When I get home, Mac, the first thing I'm gonna do is chug a couple of Fosties and find a whore." I huff for a moment. "A whore?" Charlie growls. "You bloody damn know she's a whore. Those goddamn squirrels kept shoving their arses in my face wanting to nut. I thought they wanted acorns or my handie game. Bloody squirrels wanted to be nutted. Fukken nutty nutters they are." Charlie and I climb a hill. We see the station in the distance. Its a good sunny day even though its still bloody cold. "Well looka thah'." Charlie says. "They finally got the station out of the hole didn' they?" "Yeah," I say. Its a welcome sight seeing the station bloom like a bottlebrush. I notice everyone's busy around the station in camps and tents. "Hell yeah. Looks like a barbie and a party!" Charlie was about to tumble downhill but I grabbed his suit. "Look mate, you know the rules." Charlie sighs. "I know, I know, Mac. Business before pleasure. I've done this for years now. But sometimes you gotta sneak a snack every now and then to keep you sane. Come on! Let's eat."

The smell of food is enough to put a spring in our step. Charlie and I make our way down the hill to the camps. There the cooks are preparing rations for all the workers. Something seems... Off. "Notice something mate?" I ask Charlie. Charlie was busy waving at the Sanalites who see us approach the line. "So they wanted to try rustic outdoor cooking for once. So what?"

"That's the problem," I say. "Why are we cooking outdoors on a campfire when we have plenty o' kitchens in the station?" "That a question alright," says Charlie. "Why don't I connect to the message boards and..." Charlie takes out his tablet. He whacks it for a moment. "That's strange. The service is shut down." "Shut down?" I ask. "Not under maintenance either," Charlie says. "As in all internet is shut down. Bloody hell. That means I'll have to file paperwork the ol' fashioned way."

"So much for a lady of the night."

Charlie and I grab ourselves some grub in the sealed tent. I passed on the beer. Beef pot roast with taters, carrots, and peas might be British but it was welcomed over the last few weeks of eating MREs. We imported the beef from /who/ to freeze it for the winter. But the freezers are offline because the station is in emergency shutdown. From what I gather /nasa/ has ordered itself to lock down for the Grand Directive because our dumbass principal let some native into his bed chamber. "So I leave the station for a bloody month and the old kangaroos get into a scrap shutting the entire place down?" I ask the cook as I take a swig of water. "Yeah, that's the long and short of ih," he says. "And now the police general's stagin' a manhunt to fine the prince and his mastah code to bring the station in ordah."

"Bloody hell, Alex."

I finish my food and water. "Then I have no time to lose. I better report my findings to the station before things get worse." I find Charlie who's flirting with a couple of girls on his lap. I grab Charlie. "Oi! Mate! Wha'dya doin'!?" I shoo the ladies off Charlie's lap. "Apologies ladies, but I need to borrow this bugger for a while. Charlie, get your helmet on. We're going to the station." “Ah come on!” Charlie complains. “I haven't even finished tellin' my stories.” I put my helmet back on. “No time to waste, Charlie. Things will get worse if we don't do something about it now.” Charlie sighs. He grabs his helmet. “Oi, oi...”

Charlie and I arrive at the station. We climb the frozen escalators from the base of the ship's feet about two stories. Charlie and I arrive at a wall. We fumble around for a good five minutes or so.

"Oi, Charlie"
"Wot"
"Where's the bloody door to the get in the station?"
"Bugger me it's right there, mate"
"Then open the airlock"
"....oh. I see the problem..."
"Oh do you, you drongo!"

Charlie grabs my helmet and bends me over. The latch is tilted, or I should say back to its original orientation. I growl. “Don't I feel like an idiot.” Charlie laughs his arse off. “Not used to seeing the station under gravity are ya?” Before I can slide my ID card the the airlock opens. Immediately we're greeted by police units pointing forks at us. “This is a restricted area!” I step back raising my hands. Charlie's shaking in his boots. So I hit his shoulder. Charlie raises his hands too. The police pat us down. “My name is Colonel Mac Acres,” I speak. “My partner Charles Dickson and I have returned from an exploration mission to scout the planet's inhabitants.” The police check my weapons, a pistol and a rifle. They also check my backpack. Inside is a frame of a robot skeleton. “That is Wheaty. He served us well on our journey. He'll need to be baked again soon.” “Yeah yeah, shut it,” says the officer. He looks at my ID card, which is a thin device with a screen on it. “ID checks out.” The officer returns my card. “Just so you know your boss is not in the station. We don't know where he is.” The officer gets a radio transmission. “Well you're in luck. The general wants to see you. You're coming with us whether you want to or not.”