The world burned below me as I floated in the safety of the spaceship my dad had secured our passage on. I stood gazing out a small circular window at the soon to be charred rock previously called home. There were no more tears left in me at this point in the journey. My eyes were dried out knowing 8 billion people have died in the span of a week after the meteor hit earth causing monstrous tsunamis, devastating shockwaves and earthquakes, and lastly the wildfires that couldn’t be put out due to the intense thermal radiation and radical climate changes. Every single person I knew was gone. Every place I had ever been was destroyed. As soon as the meteor neared our atmosphere yesterday, dad and I had taken our go bags and we boarded the ship. It departed one hour before the asteroid leveled cities. We were the lucky ones. If you could call us that. My dad and I, along with 48 others who were able to pay the amount required to survive the apocalypse and had a beneficial skillset for a new world, witnessed the immense devastation from the safety of our spaceship. The sobering silence that permeated the atmosphere lingered the first few hours after departing earth. Nothing and no one wanting to be the first to talk after the harrowing experience of seeing the extinction of all that called the Earth home. Eventually, everyone moved to their assigned bunks or stations based on their role. I had gone straight to my bunk and covered my head with the thin covers. Today, the Earth was growing smaller as we neared the moon. We were almost halfway there which meant I was that much closer to entering cryosleep to quicken the experience of our journey to planet Eos. Eos was discovered by the scientists tasked with finding a suitable new planet for mankind that our spaceship, Inizio, would take us to. They said that Eos was covered in turquoise waters and evergreen mountains. It had three moons that you’d be able to see in the atmosphere that was forever tinged purple, coral, and peach. The colors of dawn. It didn’t truly matter what the planet looked like, only that it was hospitable to our biological needs of breathable air, drinkable water, and land we could grow food from. I place a hand on the thick glass of the window before me. A final goodbye to all I knew. I wouldn’t look back again. It was time to prepare for what was coming and no amount of emotion I had would change the course the universe had for the surviving humans in this ship. Turning from the depressing view, I walk into the fray of bodies moving within the tight quarters of Inizio. Several turns and shoulders brushed as I maneuvered through the halls, I finally make it to the makeshift greenhouse where I was stationed. On Earth I was an agricultural engineer turned farmer. My love for designing farming systems drove me to experiment so I had purchased land and recruited my dad to help me. Together we had created a self-sustainable system that produced organic crops at a faster rate than ever before with the added benefits of improving biodiversity, minimizing waste and negative impacts to the ecosystem. This drew the eye of the scientists when we applied for seats on Inizio given the unique challenges of farming on a far away planet. When we had been approved we began the process of collecting and purchasing all the necessary materials for starting new life on Eos, including a seed bank with every type we could get our hands on in the short time we had to prepare. I walk in to the greenhouse and find my dad already rotating through the space to check on our hydroponic system of vertical towers housing the crops we started. He looks up and gives me a grim smile before returning to his task. He was a man of few words, which suited me just fine. “How are things looking?” I walk to the farthest tower and begin to inspect growth rate and development, leaf health, and any indications for nutrient deficiencies or imbalances in the solution our system distributed based on the column of crops that it was intentionally designated for. “Water and air flow is as expected, along with solution distribution. Ph levels are appropriate.” Dad ambles over to the computer and begins typing at a lazy pace. “Will it be ready to self-sustain by tomorrow when we enter into cryosleep and prepare for deep space travel?” I nibble on my lower lip. That part of the journey would determine our survival rate on Eos. We had projected that we must retain a minimum of 90% of the crops so we wouldn’t be at risk for food shortage or reduction in our crop genetic diversity. Without looking up from the screen, he says, “The monitoring system and all the sensors appear to be functioning correctly. The AI system has been adjusting conditions as we planned, so I believe we should have minimal failures.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. “Alright. I’m going to finish checking on these crops before calling it a day.” He grunts in response and we both return to our respective duties. Hours pass before we both depart the room, neither of us interested in menial chit chat as we head to our bunks. I drop on to my bunk and shut my eyes, wiling the recent events and worries for my crops away. I fail as they play on a loop behind my closed lids. Eventually everything fades and sleep overtakes me. A soft alarm beeps and startles me awake from a nightmare of flames. Sweat coats skin and my jaw is tight, likely from clenching it overnight. Ignoring the stress and trauma, I’m quick to prepare for the day which passes in a blur of preparation and emotion. Soon I find myself climbing into my cryotube being put into suspended animation. As the glass slides into place, I settle my body against the foam cushion I rest on. My heart falters for a beat as I realize I didn’t get a chance to see the moon one last time with the busyness of the day. I begin counting to control my breathing and the edge of my vision grows dim as I enter into nothingness. A tingling like an icy frost begins in my fingertips. My body feels heavy as I struggle to move and my throat is tight. My heart begins to race with the inability to open my eyes or move in any way. Where am I? What is happening? A faint light grows behind my lids and a mechanic hum begins as memories assault my mind. I gasp as I process everything and work to calm myself down. The pinpricks spread and slowly I’m able to wiggle my fingers and blink a few times just as the glass slides open. The air whooshes in I am greeted with the aloof face of my dad. As soon as the wires, sensors, and needles are unhooked from my body, I climb out of the tube with shaky limbs. “We’re there?” My voice cracks from the lack of use. He nods and gives his arm to me for me to cling to as we make our way out of the cryotube room passing others being waken or helping to wake others. Throat tightening, my stomach falls as the most important question crosses my mind. I don’t even want to ask but I know I have to. “The crops?” “I haven’t checked. Let’s head there first before we have to strap in for landing.” We make our way to the greenhouse and a bead of sweat slides down my back. Not from exertion but out of the anxiety pooling in my gut. I tuck a strand of my chestnut hair behind my ear after letting go of my dads arm, not as shaky as I was before despite the tremor now holding my fingers in constant movement. When we finally make it to the greenhouse, my dad pushes open the door and allows me to go in first. The sight that fills my eyes cleaves a sigh from my lungs. The vast majority of our crop not only survived, but thrived. Dad rushes to the computer screen with a rare grin on his face before he turns toward where I still stand at the entrance, my feet glued to the floor. “We only lost 7% of the crops!” A smile pulls at my face, loosening the tightness that had formed. “Which towers?” “4, 21 through 25, 58, and 79.” I rush over to the columns mentioned and take note of the losses. Nothing catastrophic, and nothing with long lasting impacts to crop survival or to human and animal nutrition. “Passengers of Inizio, welcome back from cryosleep. We are approaching the atmosphere of Eos. You have ten minutes, please prepare for landing.” A male voice comes over the intercom system and my heart races. It’s time. My dad and I adjust a few items to ensure nothing gets ruined with the landing before we make our way to the designated seats in the greenhouse and strap ourselves in. I grip the straps across my chest and shut my eyes. I had seen photos and heard so much about Eos. It would be a new life, a new start, and so much hard work just to survive. I don’t think I am ready. The time we had spent in cryosleep to make the journey in deep space hadn’t be significantly long. It was necessary though to limit supply usage that would be vital when we arrived in Eos but the time spent did nothing to alleviate the trauma we had lived through. So much grieving and healing was going to be necessary alongside the physical work of starting our settlement. Turbulence hits and I’m jostled within the confines of my straps and seat. My fingers gripping the straps tighter and I clench my teeth. After much movement and loud sounds, the impact of Inizio landing grinds through my bones and leaves me wheezing. We are here. My shaking and white knuckled fingers undo my straps. Dad and I make our way to the exit hatch along with the other passengers. We all gather at the door and an energy builds among us as people shift and whisper. The hatch clicks open and air whooshes as the door opens before us. Heads begin to move to peer into the outside of our new world and we are greeted by an indigo twilight sky slowing growing brighter as a new sun begins to crest the horizon of the rolling hills in front of us. Our group slowly walks through the doors and out into the new world, passing by me as I hesitate to leave the confines of the ship. Taking a deep breath I move to join them and step onto the greenest grass I have ever seen, velvety soft beneath my boots. Glancing around at the most untouched environment I have ever seen in my life, my jaw hangs at the raw beauty of it all. The new sun rises slowly, turning the sky above me into a wondrous mix of purples and oranges dotted with unnamed constellations and moons so big I could see every crater. My heart sputters as I take it all in. We are only experiencing this new world because our home was destroyed. We had no choice but to come here or die. What will we make of this new world? Will we thrive here? I take a step forward and set my mind on making this haven my home.