❝There is no guarantee that the universe will conform to our predispositions.❞ - Carl Sagan.

"T-minus 2 minutes."

// 10 years prior. //

The tour guide intricately informed the group of each aspect of the display items as they came to pass each object, her pretentious descriptions an obvious confirmation of the pride she obtained of her occupation. The group listened intently to each sentence, a few mother's having to swat away the hands of their children who were eager to touch the ornaments as they did so.

With each display item having its origin or purpose explained in extreme depth, the group would then shuffle after her to the next item. NASA's headquarters was an extremely complex building that made getting lost a gazillion times easier so 'remaining as a group' was a requirement accordingly.

As the tour continued in it's peaceful environment, a few perplexed stares were suddenly shot towards the no entry door from the distant shouting that was sounding from the other side of it. Slowly it was becoming more audible and clear that it was the voice of an adolescent girl, protesting loudly.

Casting glances back to their tour guide in confusion, she shuffled in her step awkwardly with a forced smile, "you needn't worry, I can assure you it is nothing. You wouldn't believe how common it is-"

Suddenly, the door was heaved open to reveal two hefty security guards handling a feisty brunette who dragged her feet out infront of her in protest, grimacing and pulling at her arms that were restrained by each security guard. Everyone's eyes immediately widened and the large room fell silent as they watched the whole ordeal.

"Stop fussing," one of the two security guards hissed quietly as she slightly slipped from his grasp but only for him to quickly retrieve her arm to stop her from completely breaking free.

"Sure thing, you utter moron," she sarcastically replied as she dug her heels further into the ground, forcing her entire weight into her legs to stop them. Rolling their eyes, the two security guards effortlessly lifted her from the ground by her arms so she was mid-air.

"You know what Steve," she grumbled as she kicked her legs in the air, "I am sick and tired of you manhandling me, put me down!" She yelled as more eyes landed on her, "let me down!"

Mutters flourished into laughter as the two security guards carried the girl with ease, despite her clear amount of effort. She scowled at the embarrassment that she was being forced to endure before bringing up her elbow to jag Steve's partner in the nose.

"T-minus 1 minute, 55 seconds."

He yelped in shock and stammered in his pace, creating the smallest time gap for her to break free and sprint for her life. The crowd 'oomph'ed at the sickening crunch of the hit before she darted for her life, yanking her arm free from Steve and sprinting back to where she intended to head.

The crowd dispersed and moved aside as she tried to squeeze past, a whole lot swifter than Steve who yelled and barged rather clumsily after her. Her blood streamed with adrenaline and even despite the overwhelming amount of trouble she was to be bathed in and the intense panic that her entire future could fail in any second, a small smirk adorned her face at the humour of it all.

Her intentions, unbeknownst to the arrogant security guards, were good. However, with being born to a rather poor family in the United Kingdom, her aims were tunnel visioned as she desperately urged her way through the plan instead of steadfastly approaching every obstacle - she couldn't afford to mess this up.

Crowds gathered as she breached through the 'no entry' door with ease, watching the security guards failings to keep up with a fifteen year old teenager in amusement before finally the show was behind confidential walls.

Panting with each prance, she pushed herself through the dwindling hallways at such a speed that the security guards voices were soon becoming inaudible. She had never been relatively good at sports, her days were spent enticed in books so the pondering thought of what her gym teacher would think made her slightly chuckle - before quickly regret it for wasting breath.

Her plan was going exceptionally well as she curved around a corner, before then violently slamming into another person in the process. With an agonising headbutt, she was thrown backwards at the force with a heavy headache that slurred her vision.

Placing both hands to her head, she grimaced as she regained her vision slowly. The pain was unbearably intense and not only was that pestering her but the gap between her and the guards that was shortening in length with her slip up.

"T-minus 1 minute, 35 seconds."

Laughing suddenly sounded infront of her and as her heart leaped, her eyes landed on a boy who was roughly her age chuckling as he pressed his hand to his forehead. His vibrantly blue eyes crinkled as his smile flashed gleaming, white teeth which was enough to pause her from her panic as she discovered how naturally precious he looked.

Suddenly the voices grew louder and in an instant she shot to her feet, slightly stumbling in her efforts. Breaking from his laughter with widened eyes at her startled state, he climbed to his feet with a curious expression before then it dawned on him.

Looking behind her, she noticed the guards running through the sets of doors through the windows and so then turned back on her heel, ready to sprint through the hallway before the boy grabbed her arm.

"I know what to do, just follow me," he ushered as her eyebrows furrowed, slightly pulling her arm from him before his grasp tightened, "I'm not going to rat you out, come on-"

With that, he pulled her into one of the doors connected to the hallway and shut it behind her. She couldn't see anything of the room in the dark, so the only thing she found herself focusing on was the sound of the heavy steps that belonged to the security guards.

The boy did the same, with an accomplished smile on his face at his rebellious behaviour, he never really did anything out of the ordinary. His insides bubbled with pride as the security guards ran past their door, shouting for the girl before he reached for the light switch.

"They're not the brightest," he spoke with a light laugh, sending a surge of confusion as to wether he was referring to the light bulbs or the security guards through Bronwyn.

She furrowed her eyebrows, opening her mouth to speak before stopping herself in gratitude. No matter what his intentions were, he had just helped her.

"Sorry by the way," she sheepishly apologised, "and thank you, I wouldn't have gotten very far by running around the building like a headless chicken."

His face brightened, "you're alright."

"T-minus 1 minute, 15 seconds."

She smiled as he reached for a panel on the wall, flicking more switches which sent the room into an array of light. She hid her eyes from the sudden harsh brightness for a moment before gradually focusing on the room.

Her eyes instantaneously widened in admiration.

"This isn't real," she gasped, slowly making her way to the large screen that was situated behind a dozen computers. She stood below it, gazing up in amazement as figures and equations laced the screen. She turned to look at the boy, "is this the original mission control?"

He nodded, "sure is! But for the Mars Series they've updated the software and moved the working equipment elsewhere. Updates and all that," he replied as she remained stammered.

"My father knew about about this place," she gleamed fondly.

"Did he used to work here?" He asked curiously before her face suddenly fell. He instantly noticed. "I, uh- I'm sorry that was rude, but anyway I'm Chris, Chris Beck-" he enthusiastically leaped over the table to run to her for a hand shake.

A ghost of a smile played at her lips at his innocence, "Bronwyn Evans," she announced as she shook his hand.

"You're British," he acknowledged to which she nodded, "but you're not exactly English are you?"

"I'm Welsh," she retorted, "but all the same, British."

He nodded before crossing his arms, joining her as she returned to gazing at the screen. "Why are you here?"

"T-minus 1 minute."

Back home, her disappearance left teachers sipping 'knowingly' of their tea, the snobbish words of "if only she had listened to me, she wouldn't be such a dead-beat," on their sharp tongues. Multiple heads would of course nod in agreement, replies and retortments like "the stubborn ones never win" and "children thinking they know better than teachers when it comes to the world is beyond me."

Her aspirations in Wales were largely viewed quixotic as with being unfairly known as a 'pretentious trouble child' locally who wanted to be better than the 'common folk' around her, it was clear to see the unusual scared the majority of her hometown. Her dreams were too impractical to consider they had repeatedly told her, but with every circle time in class where they'd exchange what their idealistic career would be, despite all the horrible and unnecessary hatred towards her aspiration, she'd still everytime firmly announce, "astronaut."

Of course, sympathetic glances about her father were thrown occasionally and distasteful eye rolls out of shortened patience at her adament decision that refused to change but it never discouraged her. The teacher would then consider his or her words carefully with the knowledge she would soon need to pick a realistic career option so that she didn't jeopardise her future but when faced with their reply, she would then retort wether it was unrealistic because they had not accomplished it or because the concept of something so great, like travelling the stars, was something too great for someone of her gender.

She'd then be shushed, but she knew that it was not because they disliked her reply but instead because they simply had no reply. Whilst sent to the corner to reflect on her rudeness, her mother and stepfather would again be called into the office to receive a scolding for entertaining her 'childish behaviour.' Her mother would then as always simply reply, "are we here because my daughter has misbehaved or that you feel threatened by her intellectualism that doesn't fit to tick box standards?"

The usual argument would then have taken place and with grim glares from the teachers by the up-rest she had created in school, she dully noted teachers only ever wanted students that made their job simple and unproblematic; a lousy system that she soon grew to detest. Perhaps her tendency to unintentionally go against the current is what made her both so admirable but problematic.

Not soon after she left with her mother's reluctance, it was clear to see she was absent mindedly fueling a movement as she slowly but seemingly became a leading figure to most girls in her small hometown of Aberdare. Her stubbornness and determination motivated a large quantity but still the teachers would constantly retell the story of the 'problem student.'

"T-minus 58 seconds."

Bronwyn paused for a moment before answering Beck's question, "he did use to work here, he was on the space shuttle Columbia back in 2003. I was two when he died so I had little to no recollection of him but I suppose he's partially why I'm here."

She fell silent, Beck's soft gaze encouraging him to carry on before she drew in a breath.

"But yeah, I guess years passed after the accident and then finally, I took an interest in Space when I was eight and I stumbled across his work files. I must have spent atleast a week not sleeping and not eating just to finish reading every page- I was so intrigued, you know? Space is incredible."

"It sure damn is," Beck laughed as she mustered up a chuckle, nodding agreement with a genuine smile.

"I was uh- I meant I declared to myself and everyone around me that one day I'd have a career orientated with space but my family are not exactly financially stable and I can't exactly afford the luxury of getting into NASA without being dubbed a teenage criminal- but uh, my mother-" she paused as she reached in her pocket, slightly wiggling around in her stance to get it out causing Beck to laugh, "wrote me a letter to give to a man called Mitch Henderson, who was supposedly best friends with my father. I don't have a return ticket home, so this is or should I say, was my one shot," she said as she fumbled with the letter in her hand. Tracing the edges of the envelope, she slowly handed it to Beck before hesitating at the clank of an opening door.

Suddenly, the entrance door slammed open and a group of people stood with expressions of distaste. Bronwyn's blood pooled in her feet with her heart in her mouth as Chris avoided their gaze.

"Breaking and entering is a criminal offence," a formally dressed man announced as he stepped into the room, "and encouraging that behaviour is equally as irresponsible, Mr Beck," he sternly snapped at Bronwyn's new friend.

"I am sorry," Beck lied as he stared down at his feet, "I brought her here, it's not her fault it's mine."

"No, it is not-" Bronwyn interrupted, "I am my own person, Chris was just trying to be thoughtful. I was just here to see a Mr. Henderson and I know I had no authority but then security," she quietly bit in distaste, "misjudged my intentions."

"Well," a man with ashy hair and a worn face spoke, "I am Mitch Henderson but I have not met you Miss..."

"Evans," she confirmed.

"Why do you need to see me?"

She fumbled with the letter in her hand before timidly approaching him. The group of people stiffened and security stepped foreward as their anxieties rose that she was to attack him but with a scared expression adorning her face, Mitch waved his hand at the nonsense and they relaxed.

Reaching out, Mitch ripped open the letter and trailed his eyes over each word. The room fell silent as he did so.

His voice was stern as he suddenly spoke, "can you all give us a moment, please."

Glances were shot among the group in confusement but knowing not the argue they obliged. The door shut with a bang and the room was silent before he spoke again.

"T-minus 55 seconds."

"Beck, what you did was neglecting your responsibilities as a trainee. You had no authority to bring Miss Evans in here and it was very foolish and could have jeopardised the entire mission," Beck melted under his gaze as Bronwyn silently loathed herself for getting him into trouble.

"But take no notice of them lad," Mitch laughed placing a hand on his shoulder. Bronwyn's face contorted into bewilderment as Beck relaxed at Mitch's down to earth personality. "They're very dramatic, live your life Chris. They're all just grumpy sods flaunting their pressed suits, take absolutely no notice."

Bronwyn widened her eyes in amazement, relieved he wasn't at all there for scold them.

"You've brought me someone I've been dying to meet since 2001," he added, before glancing at a confused Bronwyn. "Your father," he began before nostalgia swept onto his face, "wow, what an absolutely brilliant guy. He promised I'd be able to meet his 'little gem' the day you were born, but the sod was so excited he darted off without my ass without so much as a warning. I had him back, beat his ass in darts that following weekend."

She chuckled fondly before he added solemnly, "ah lass, I'm sorry about your father. He was a gift, an absolute gift and my right hand man."

She sheepishly looked to her feet, "my mother told me he was a good man, I guess I've always assumed he was amazing just by faith as she refrains from telling me stories about him," she genuinely replied.

"I have loads of stories about that man," he laughed to himself, "but the most valuable is what he personally told me he wished for you."

Bronwyn furrowed her eyebrows as he continued, "he made me promise to leave the door open for you if you ever wanted to follow in his footsteps. You're his next of kin, it is only right NASA trial you," he smirked having read the letter.

Her mouth dried, a lump instantly forming in her throat at the statement. As she processed what he was saying she eagerly nodded, not trusting her voice before blurting out, "yes."

Beck smiled largely as Mitch smirked, "well this a bloody honour and half - Bronwyn Loren Evans, daughter of Commander Samuel Llewellyn Evans, would you like to be assigned under my management?"

She froze, bleakly nodding her head, "please do not be joking."

"Not in the slightest! Well it's obviously not as easy as that, there's paperwork and parent consent that has to be beyond the consent from a letter etcetera," he quickly added which made Beck and Bronwyn laugh, "but would you both care to follow me?" He asked as he made his way to the door.

The both obliged, Beck shooting a mischievous smile to Bronwyn would shook her head in disbelief as they walked behind him.

"Buds?" Beck asked quietly as he reached his hand out to Bronwyn.

"Buds," Bronwyn laughed quietly back before shaking his hand.

"T-minus 40 seconds."

Years blurred by and with the overstated consent of her mother, Bronwyn was to accompany Beck and four others on ARES III. Within that time, Bronwyn and Beck became inseparable. Through the tormenting training, extortionate psychological monitoring equipment and constant abundance of doubts, they became known as the 'siblings' of the soon to be crew. Mischievous in each other's company, most often or not rules had to be enforced or if all else failed, they'd be separated for the day - but that had little to no effect aswell.

When they came of age, the two would spend their free days in the nearest town, drinking eachother under the table; making embarrassing but valued memories with one another. But even despite their rebellious behaviour that was slightly peeking through, they were the best NASA had ever gambled on.

Exceptionally high in expectations and remarkably intelligent, the two were valued highly by the scientists of NASA who had every bit of faith in them. Not only encouraged by the support of the worlds top scientists but also Mitch Henderson who ritually watched over them, carrying a genuine care for the wellbeing of the trouble makers.

When Beck would leave for small holidays to be with his family every so often, Bronwyn would spend time with Mitch and try to teach him her mother tongue: Welsh. Mitch would laugh at his failings and she'd brush it off, exclaiming that his pronunciation was well for a non-Welshman.

It was during one of Beck's holidays that Bronwyn met Jonathan, a British journalist studying the mission. Mitch had warned her to watch herself, mentally thinking of Beck, but Bronwyn was completely oblivious of his growing attachment to her and soon fell head over heels for Jonathan.

Upon discovering the news, Beck was deflated but forced a smile that she was happy, even if his somewhat selfish pleasure was to be the one to make her happy himself. Within time, the relationship swerved into an engagement and Beck's hopes of winning Bronwyn back were gone. He couldn't compete with someone who had swooned her into marriage.

With the brilliant news of the mission discretely hidden from the press' eyes as much as possible, the news that did get out deemed fake, her mother would ignore that her daughter was the talk of the town with the mental reminder of how she had insisted they kept her flourishing status on the silent. She had stayed in America to pursue her ten years training, leaving behind a smug family and fiancé who knew the glorious truth; Bronwyn was soon to be the first British Female to walk on Mars.

But little to Wales' insults and doubts of the girls success, Bronwyn's intelligence of the world and the universe alone was impeccably far from what they could have possibly comprehended and as the BBC News channel had suddenly blared through the teachers staff room with breaking news one day, their conversations fell instantly silent as their nosey minds waited to see what news they could gossip about next.

"Confirmation of the ARES III mission has just been broadcasted to every corner of the Earth in recent minutes, with the crew members names now officially setting our suspicions to rest. As suspected, Melissa Lewis, Rick Martinez, Mark Watney, Alex Vogel and Christopher Beck will be set to fulfil this mission along with an unfamiliar but soon set to be nationally famous face with her soon fulfilled titled. British girl, Bronwyn Evans is set to be the first British Female to walk on Mars-" her face appeared on screen, a gleaming smile at her obvious achievement adorning her face as the news reporter continued to express the pride the nation currently felt for 'their girl.'

The staff room had remained as silent as the dead. No one dared to break the quiet and address the sinking feeling of their stomachs. Oh how much more glorious it would have been if only Bronwyn could have witnessed.

"T-minus 30 seconds."

Bronwyn remained low for a while as Britain demanded multiple interviews and for their girl to come home for one farewell before she left for four years. She eventually returned but briefly; attending one interview, reuniting shortly with her fiancé and family before she finally took off back to America as NASA stressed they had to keep her under constant mental examination in the run up to the big day.

Time zoomed past and through the chaotic climax of such an event, it was difficult to maintain a focused mind as camera flashlights flashed mercilessly in their faces on the day. Commander Lewis warned the walk to the shuttle would be the most nerve-racking moment of it all, and she was initially right with Bronwyn having tripped in the first few seconds of the walk - fortunately Beck caught her just in time.

"T-minus 25 seconds."

But everything counted on the last few moments as they entered the shuttle, it was detrimental they did not mess up a single procedure at that point. So, with much anticipation they climbed into their seats and buckled themselves in, a certain airy-ness tingling through their legs as they realised the height of everything.

"T-minus 20 seconds," the radio announced as Commander Lewis continued her quick checks. At the acknowledgment of the time, she commanded the crew to shut the visors of their launch and entry suits. They instantly obliged.

"T-minus 16 seconds."

The shuttle stirred slightly as the suppression water system at the launch pad was activated, it's function to protect the shuttle and its payloads from being damaged by the strong acoustical energy during take off. The movements were a natural feeling to the crew now through multiple training excersises, though if not for the seriousness of the situation, the motion was sure to spark more excitment in them.

"T-minus 6 seconds," Commander Lewis started each of the three engines at the announcement, each engine roaring to life furiously as she did so.

The crew braced themselves, Bronwyn and Chris reaching for each others hands before clasping them tight as they smiled proudly to each other in both reassurance that they both had each other's backs and achievement.

"T-minus 0-" in an instant, the solid rocket boosters were ignited. At the exact same moment, the bolts that secured the shuttle to the ground were abruptly released explosively, which instantly allowed the orbiter to rocket into the sky at an incomprehensible speed.

At the force of the acceleration, they instantaneously sunk into their seats as their stomachs screamed with the insanity of the adrenaline rush, not at all having enough strength to change their positions under the weight of the force that threatened to break Bronwyn's and Chris' grasp but tightly holding on, they prevailed in not letting go.

The blue sky was swiftly changing it's shades as they travelled through it, leaving the celebrating crowds and NASA behind them. Bronwyn's mind wandered to her father and how he made it no further than what she was enduring, and with a pang of sadness she looked to Chris who was gazing through the window in disbelief.

The speed continued to rattle their bones as they ascended, Chris and Bronwyn firmly focused on the sky knowing to savour every single moment; Bronwyn owed this to her stubborn teenage-self who's sacrifices were the very reason she was present.

But before long, the weight of the shuttle seemed to lift and the vibrant array of blue was now a soft darkness as they broke through the skyline.