The planet in the viewers was a large green one. More landmass than visible waters. At least from the relative distance of space. In fact, the true danger of this world was the face that the ground was more like flotsam in some places then solid ground. So you had to tread carefully while on it's surface. There was water everywhere, and unlike some planets, it was mostly fresh. Sure, there was a couple of large salt lakes, but they were not what drove this world's ecosystems. It was all about the tides, eddy's and pools of the fresh water. For the intended inhabitants, walking upon a solid ground was not an issue. Mostly dwellers that preferred to live high from the ground in treetops, this world had been an easy model to terraform.<br/><br/>It spun around the star that served as it's sun in a rotation of about 400 days, which was what counted as one calendar year, and turned on it's slightly tilted axis once every 30 hours, a day there on the peaceful seeming planet. It teemed with life of many varieties, all carefully selected and bred to grow on the planet, down to the last insect and microbe. All made to help the ecosystems flourish and thrive in a natural process.<br/><br/>It had two moons orbiting it, one significantly smaller than the other, and the large one further away than the small one. From the planets surface they looked to be same distance. However the smaller and closer of the moons, cycled faster than the larger farther away moon, and it was by the smaller moon that the peoples who would eventually come to live here would gauge the turning of the months. The larger moon marking the turning of the seasons.<br/><br/>Only one thing marred the surface of this Eden like world. A large crater that was not even three years old. And in that, the debris of a large science vessel. The final resting place of the<span style="font-style: italic"> Elora De'nai</span>and 99.99% of her crew. It was there that Amadalia Silverleaf stood on the edge of to throw another woven ring of flowers into, whispering the Goddess' prayer of rest.<br/><br/>Two years here, and no other sentient being since Sameli passed away from an odd fever. She had been a female from the other side of the Homeworld. A person who knew how to fight and survive. It would have been much harder to remain alive if it had not been for her. Those first few weeks, teaching Amadalia how to gather plants, fish, and other animals to survive. It wasn't often they ate meat as a general rule, but the furs and other things there had made it easier to continue existing. Then one day, she had become ill, and less then one day later she had been given to the mossy depths of the planet they had survived together, leaving her alone.<br/><br/>It was there with the remains of the ship on the earth in a small oddly green and flowered mossy section that Amadalia stood. Remembering her companions and their dreams. She felt a tear fall, and again felt so lonely that she had no way to compensate for the loss within her heart that she rose her face skyward and let out a heart rending call. A song of legend and hope for her people that the Goddess had passed onto them long ago. Legend had it that it was a song of summoning or calling of a soulmate to you. Not that she believed it, but it was comforting to sing it, and hear it sung. She sang for hours, until the glowing of the planet grew dusky.<br/><br/>Amadalia turned in her softly glowing suit, as the sun was setting and made for "home". It was likely to be another long night of nut stew. Not that she minded at this point, since a little over 800 days with no one else, you learned everything there was to know about yourself. Amadalia left another tribute of remembrance for Sameli.<br/><br/>She rose to the treetops, where the small landing craft had been altered to make a secure and permanently warm home. There was a way to process food, keep her suit clean, and clean her own body as the unit had a water catching and filtration device that was also self cleaning. She moved aobut in the dim light closing up the little home and getting ready to make her stew. She had found it far easier to only catch prey very sparingly, and so often ate only what the planet could provide by plant life. She slowly climbed out of her eco-suit after she set the stew on to heat and ran through the sanitizer. Then she sat down in a chair and open up a small audio book that read her one of the many legends of her people. At last she put her dishes away, turned everything off that wasn't necessary and settled into bed. But sleep did not come. Only the heartache of loneliness.