Kirsen’s eyes flutter open to blinding whiteness, her ears ringing too loud to make out anything else. Even the sound of her own voice is muffled, her groans are barely discernible as she tries to shift in her seat. Her eyes adjust to the light and she sees the control panel in front of her; now missing the steering ball and the buttons next to it sparking, sending a thin trail of smoke out the broken window. Past the smoke and broken glass, the pure white of snow glitters when the occasional ray of sun pushes through the clouds. A spot of glitter is erased by a black boot trudging through it, holding up a person in a bright red snowsuit. They are wearing a bulky black helmet covering their whole face with a flexible tube coming from the mouth. An old fashioned mask. The accident must have blown her off course, though she has no memory of what caused it. Kirsen counts 8 red suits, but there could be more. She shifts in her chair again, yanking her left leg away from the lower controls but is only able to cause herself a sharp pain shooting up into her body. She can feel the supports for her feet being crushed by something. Probably the power source stabilizer. It’s pinning her left leg inside, each tug to free herself causing her to whimper. 

A loud creaking noise from behind makes Kirsen flinch and turn to see another red suited person opening the door to the cockpit. Tall and broad shouldered, wearing the same black mask covering his whole face. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches and she realizes the ringing in her ears has stopped enough for her to hear them. He lifts the visor covering his eyes and walks eagerly up to her pilot’s chair.

“Wait wait wait! You can’t approach it without approval.” A shrill voice says as another red suit walks through the door. 

“I-it…it’s human” the man walking manages to stutter out, hands trembling. The dark caramel color of his eyes is overshadowed by the intensity of his stare. 

“What is your name? How did you end up on this UFO?” His voice is steady and direct now, but he is still jittering his fingers by his sides. 

UFO? What did they expect to find in a spaceship if not a human? The closest aliens are the Odornu and they are light years away. A ship like this can’t travel that far. She must be further off course than she thought.

“I’m Kirsen Vito, ID number X23-14795. I’m a pilot for The Green Colony, my commander’s name is Orlan Khol, ID number X21-93256. I was on a mission and somehow crash landed here. Where exactly did I crash?” she asks. 

“Um…You’re in Montana” the taller man says as he gives a strange sideways glance to the other man and takes a small step away from her.

“What’s Montana? What color colony am I in?”

Before she can get an answer, the other man walks over to the power source stabilizer that’s pinning her leg and leans down to pull it off only to be startled to the ground by Kirsen yelling to stop. 

“Are you crazy!? Your snowsuit has really bad radiation protection and that thing might not be stable after a big crash.”

“I know they might not look like much, but these suits are the newest ones developed. They are supposed to be modeled to protect from radiation as bad as chernobyl” he retorts proudly. 

That’s an ancient reference, she thinks. Then, as a realization begins to dawn on her, she can feel all the blood drain from her face. She finally remembers what happened before the accident. As she was flying back to Earth, the ship was suddenly being pulled back by something. No matter how much she boosted the engine the ship couldn’t fight it. She feared it was a blackhole but if it were she would still be stuck inside, now another idea is beginning to worm its way into her head.

She stares out the window at the snow of Montana for a moment, her mouth barely stopping itself from falling agape as she tries to find words, “What year is it?”