The World is Flat
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The craft bucked and jerked under atmospheric pressure, gravity, and the buffeting of strong upper-atmosphere currents. The incredible rattle shook the compartment from head to tone with a mind-bending consistency. Stop was forced to grip the arm of his seat to avoid the worst of it... and then they landed. Like that; a slight impact, a *pooof* of white, and the grinding and rattling was gone... for a moment, all was peaceful. The the others interrupted that quiet.
Stop remained entirely silent as the others bantered about pointlessly. The landing and the entire procedure did not end in their deaths; something that was surprising to no end. One would imagine with a powerful planetary defense weapon a foolish scheme like this wouldn't work; obviously an AI wasn't in charge of the defense. If an AI was managing that installation, they would have calculated for the likelihood of a suicide drop to assess the situation on the planet's surface and actually programmed the weapon to strike major 'debris' which could in actuality be anything, from strike teams to bombs. Apparently that wasn't the case.
Stop knew he could be quite wrong, but AI systems generally held better contingency parameters in check than their organic contemporaries.
Sighing, the Quasai adjusted his harness, his eyes searching the faces of the crew for uncertainty; doubt. He found it. Feeling himself compelled to offer his council to these fools he spoke quickly and to the point. "Remaining in the wastes is our best chance, not our worst. You do not seem to grasp the reality of the simple fact that here we are absolutely inconsequential; and in an environment where the threat is unknown, that is exactly what you want to be."