Salty lollipop

rules: You must include a lollipop somewhere in your writing. You must begin your writing with something to do with static (You can mention this no later than the first paragraph. ’Static' can be anything like TV static, the sound of static, etc.) You must end your writing with an explosion. (This can be no earlier than the last three sentences of your writing.)

Static. Nothing but fuss from background radiation and violent but senseless song of the pale star, promising a new beginning. No radio signals from home, greeting courageous explorers to their new haven. All frequencies silent, except for resounding drums of distant quasars. This simple fact aches with unbearable, though inevitable conclusion – there is no home no more. Twelve hundred years spend in hibernation was enough for humanity to finally destroy itself. Outcome which was feared, but considered. Mission success is now the only chance to resist oblivion.

As it was planned, Hoss core was functioning at minimal capacity upon arrival. Primarily an energy saving measure, now it helped to assess the problem without extra emotional dispersion
Being a complex AI, combining neural networks with minds of great explorers, Hoss (abbreviated from Homo Sapiens Stellaris), possessed many human traits.

Though it was unnecessary and somewhat impractical, he uploaded his main core to the android body. After an endless journey of lethargic hibernation, it was good to feel at least somewhat human. MIA, a Multipurpose Integrated Android, opened her green eyes and leaned forward, releasing herself from the docking station. Though she had a conscious of her own, it was still sleeping, as most of the high energy consumption equipment, waiting for enough power to be accumulated from the star.
Fit agile body silently ran through dark corridors, carrying incrementally awakening Hoss towards the isolated control deck. It felt ecstatic to spread the limbs, even ones made from metal and photonics, rather than nerve and muscle. Few minutes later, dressed and operational, MIA was standing on the main bridge, absorbing terabytes of information coming from surveillance drones and her own sensors. A human-like machine, with a strict face, resembling first interstellar woman, MIA was good for any purpose. Later, after landing safe and defrosting embryos, her fate will become locked with future colonists. A sole mother of the new world.
When a full scale planet image was constructed, its hologram lit up in front of the green eyes. From the high orbit planet looked like a giant lollipop. Blue northern hemisphere appeared to be one enormous ocean, dotted with freckles of tiny islands. South caramel colored plains looked sandy and lacked any river veins. Colossal dam, belting around equator, separated these two worlds. Creamy clouds, snaking around the globe, complemented candy impression.

“A gorgeous view”, – gentle voice whispered in the dark, showing Hoss was regaining emotions and senses of beauty.

“But I am troubled by it”, – synthetic face wrinkles.
No need to talk out loud but he preferred to. Speech calmed his humane part, it felt like there was somebody else around, sharing the burden of decisions.

Ships’ orbit crossed the equator and it became obvious that belt underneath is not of a natural origin, as earlier anticipated. Closer look made it obvious – it is no mountain chain or planets collision scar. It seemed artificial, a construct, hence planets inhabitants controlled forces of geological power.

As drones sank deeper into the atmosphere, images of planet surface became clearer. Apart from the belting dam no structures on either side of the planet were observed, but something was definitely happening on the southern, continental part. Something was moving there. And not just on the surface.

«Drone SZ-0511 – connection lost», – purple message popped up in the air.

“Acquire feed for SZ-0512”, – command follows.

Image appeared, and MIAs pupils narrowed, engaging risk assessment protocols. But still she couldn’t recognize the threat – something jumped from beneath the clouds, crushing sensors and cameras, too quick to get any details.

«Drone SZ-0512 – connection lost», «Drone SZ-0515 – connection lost» - messages kept popping up.

MIA collapsed on the floor, as Hoss consciousness rushed away from an imperfect body. Reconnecting with core provided broader picture. Milliseconds later he reestablishes full control and directly observes swarms of unknown projectiles closing by for an imminent collision.

It’s too late to maneuver. Unable to retaliate, as spaceship was never built for war, Hoss spends last seconds before impact to activate all magnet locks, fasten every secure belt he could reach, and quarantine all sectors, so they can be undocked separately if needed.

Hits followed shortly, tearing chunks of spacecraft away, blasting engines, compromising orbital position.
«Loosing orbit, critical atmosphere hit imminent» – realization of inevitable didn’t make Hoss stop. Rerouting all available power to own processors, he struggled to obtain maximum computing capacity to match hastily degrading circumstances. Every appearing damage report was shaving away opportunities. Engines failed, shattering hope of safe landing. Very soon more critical hits followed. Despite extra protection, main cargo of embryos and incubators also perished. An irreplaceable loss, deeming whole mission useless.

Still, Hoss didn’t stop for a second. His army – a handful of service drones and MIA, partly awakened and barely charged, started cruising between labs and a single escape pod available. It meant to be used for an outstanding emergency, which has clearly just happened.

Getting more conscious with every second, Hoss struggled to recognize the nature of malevolent contact. Human curiosity urges for an answer, even if obtaining it doesn’t change anything. Hoss figured attackers can hardly be living biological organisms, as these sandy plains look barren, unable of sustaining complex food chains. They could be machines built by a long-gone civilization, still on their defensive duty, if not for the fact they don’t glow or communicate in any detectable way. Instead, they resembled a lymphatic system, silently and vigorously fighting a virus intrusion.

Atmosphere hit, stripping away outer hull layers, spacecraft now really hugging the planet, warmth of the welcome glowing on its modules’ cheeks. Soon, overwhelmed, they burst – farms, schools and workshops falling into high entropy states. Through clouds of debris one could hardly notice a small grain, escaping on evading trajectory. Only heavy reactor core persists, designed to tame the beast inside, now resisting a fiery demon of hostile atmosphere, intending to make its own hit in the fight.

As the escape pod was leaving burning clouds behind, thrusting towards calm waters of the ocean, harboring hope, MIA noticed there was a pursuer. The pod was defenseless, unable to maneuver, locked on its trajectory with just enough fuel to get to the other, seemingly safe side of the belt. It looked like MIAs eyes were full of tears but those were just flares from burning mothership mixed with bluish sunset, coloring the horizon.

MIA could already see the ocean, when her pursuer finally caught up. Resembling a giant peach-colored ameba, it moved through the air without wings or thrusters, denying any logic. Moments later it smashed over the pod, yellow goo blocked illuminators, and MIA felt they started spinning down in a corkscrew. Short of her charge, synthetic mother could hardly bear a fight, but her mind could.

“Emergency parachute deployment” – she commanded. Something clicked, and a sail of nanofiber shot away, throwing off the intruder. A bit of luck that was long overdue.

“Discard main parachute” – MIA said as soon as spin was reduced enough.
“Activate secondary on the lowest safe altitude. Maneuver towards nearest island”.

After pod jolted again, MIA unfastened and reached up for the tools container. Screwdriver was chosen as the most promising melee weapon.

A lava beach became visible through spots of clean plastic, when ameba returned. It attacked the parachute, crumpling orange nanofiber with outgrowing tentacles. MIA looked around. Life that she brings can’t be broken.

“Discard secondary parachute” – she proclaims, and few seconds later pod crashes down, blasting rock and tephra away.

Human technology endured! MIA released the door and jumped out, only her exterior damaged. Just in time to witness a sinking parachute and agonizing ameba, shrinking from contact with water.

Seeing no other threat, she dropped on her knees and carved deep lines, making the first artifact.
Soon she returned to recharge and spread reinforced light panels. There are no humans left, but she will persist in her motherly duty. In years to come, she will populate this island with plants, fungi, insects and bacteria now stacked in the escape capsule, slowly recuperating from anabiosis.

We didn’t manage to bring our mind to this planet. But we were conscious enough, to bring the seeds of our world here – carefully carved message proclaimed.

Using his maximum computing capacity, Hoss managed to find one particular trajectory and chose to keep it. Explosion, outshining stars, blasted through the belt when reactor mass hit its destination. Miles of ocean suddenly had a way through, collapsing on caramel plains. Intruding life evened the battleground.