Kyle Thurston and Alicia Wyeth returned to the colony of Griffin XIII safely enclosed in their spacesuits, protected from the poisonous atmosphere that filled the settlement, shielded from the radiation that streamed upon them through the shattered, overhead glass. They were both experienced in their spacesuits others would find cumbersome, and so Kyle and Alicia never stumbled upon the corpses of the patriots of Griffin, their boots never disturbing the small piles of ash they often discovered as they progressed through the settlement. They had returned in heavy spacesuits to those colonies the followers of Zeb Griffin founded twelve times before, ample time to become familiar with the way a spacesuit constricted the arms, of how alien gravity played tricks upon the legs.
Alicia came to a standstill in the middle of a ring of ash. Her helmet leaned backwards to consider the overhead glass before Alicia pointed towards the sky.
"Looks like it was one heck of a shoot-out," Alicia's voice transmitted through her suit's communication gear. "You can see where the laser pulses shattered the glass overhead, where the atmosphere first compromised the ecosystem."
Kyle bent to a knee and carefully pried a gun out of a corpse's cold hand. "Didn't seem to be as many ash piles this time around. Maybe there's hope yet for the patriots of Zeb Griffon. Maybe they'll establish a colony in the future that will survive."
"Can't say I share your optimism," Alicia's dark visor hid her face's features. "Another wasted settlement filled with death. The thirteenth cracked shell filled with the skeletons of these fringe isolationists. They self-destructed in less than a year this time. They might be able to build like no one else in the United Systems, but they are incapable of sustaining anything. Number thirteen. And still, they bring ruin down upon themselves."
Kyle's helmet nodded. "But you have to give it to them. They are such incredible builders. There is no better breed of founder, no people so courageous to float among the starts."
Alicia carefully stepped between piles of ash and lightly touched her partner's forearm. "You shouldn't touch that gun, Kyle. Leave it to the dead. Those guns are wicked, evil things. I'm not proud knowing the United Systems always grants these people with that final delivery the patriots of Griffon are always so determined to possess."
Kyle smirked behind is dark visor. "You sound like a superstitious, ancient and old crone. You talk as if these weapons hold some kind of soul. They are only tools. Nothing more. Nothing less."
"And I've come to wonder to whom those tools truly belong."
Kyle gently placed the weapon back upon the ground and grabbed Alicia's gloved hand into his own. "You're learning, Alicia Wyeth. You might make a good delegate yet. The United Systems will send new settlers to this planet, who will repair, repopulate and rename this colony. Sooner than we know, it will be forgotten that this was ever attempt number thirteen for the followers of Zeb Griffin. The glass will be replaced. We'll pump a new atmosphere into this shell, and this time, we'll fill it with people who will see it thrive."
Alicia watched as an alien breeze lifted motes of dust from an ash pile. "And they will live upon the labor of these followers of Griffin."
"It's good construction," Kyle answered. "It would be shameful to let it waste."
"And what of the other followers of Zeb Griffin? Many more still growl in the shadow of the United Systems."
"Our drone scouts have already charted half a dozen, new planets more for their efforts. They will happily board one rocket after another in chase of that paradise where they will never need to answer to anyone other than themselves, where no one but themselves will ever taste the fruit of their labor." Kyle paused a moment. "We will give them their guns, so that after they build, the patriots of Griffin XIII can also destroy. And ever again, we will follow to pick up the pieces of their ruin."
Alicia turned her attention once more to that lavender sky streaked with golden veils. "This sky is as beautiful as it is deadly. But who could resist this sky? I can imagine resorts, and tennis courts, and pools filled with warm, purple water."
"Ah, you see the future too," and bounding to her side in the thin atmosphere, Kyle Thurston embraced Alicia Wyeth with a spacesuit hug, "but first, we're going to need to give this rock a new name."