"The alien has things that have wires in them, just like in the round metal thing, but not as smashed."

"And not doing anything that any of us can perceive, or you'd have mentioned that?"

"Yeahh, but they're not structural either - sometimes they're flexible. The alien is doing something with one of the objects now, come look!"

It is not actually true that nobody present can perceive the wires doing things.

But does he have any idea what they're accomplishing with their tiny background murmuring? Nope.

He's certainly not going to turn down food. He feels like he's about to fall asleep, honestly, but - this situation is very confusing and it feels important-

The metabolism mods are fairly complicated. The endocrine system is complicated.

It wouldn't be that hard to make him waste away, but it would be different to any known species. Also you'll need to attack more different paths than usual. He'll metabolize more things than average for a human already. He has a strong tolerance to some kind of stimulant drug already, and is in the last stage of withdrawal from it. That sticks out. And it would be relatively easy to prevent wasting even if he was fed mostly simple carbohydrates- He's overall unusually resilient. Too much fat, or salt, or carbs, or protein, or potassium, or cholesterol, or a dozen other things, won't hurt him. Not enough of any of the usual culprits will hurt him, but less.

...Yep, there it goes, 1% and charging, once it warmed up. He lets it boot, softly glowing LEDs playing the little video and startup tone, and then there is a picture of the ship looking proud and shiny, and the word EXODUS, and his name, M. Hernandez, and below that a password field.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptap. 'Sign In'. Clearly a well practiced motion. Aaaaand here's a home screen. Tap tap.

Aaaaand here's a gallery of photos. He scrolls through them, looking for one to illustrate his confusion. Then he blinks and notices everyone's intense interest in the little tablet computer.

(The photo he paused on is of himself, standing among rows and rows and rows of densely packed plants under purple lights, grinning and holding a plastic basket of tomatoes.)

(Woah, thinks the liefling.)

The alien makes light! With the head objects, with this hand object that shows images, and, as shown in the image, with the long glowing rods. Real light, that can grow plants!

This changes everything, for Ansaf, and nothing, for what they do now. They need to know the constraints on the light, the materials used to make the light objects...and they haven't established communication enough for that yet.

They seem to like the hydroponics! Great! He'll scroll through more of those- Point at things and name them, maybe-

-Hurhhh, the tiredness is hitting him all at once here. He feels like he's going to fall asleep sitting up.

(Is ABSOLUTELY writing furiously on the side here.)

Something strange is going on but it feels like he's driving through fog, like it's five AM after an emergency drill at night, and you're trying to stay awake, because...

...Bath. It's awkward to try to charades a bath and shave. But bath more urgently. 

He attempts it anyway. The first aid kits have soap in them for some reason at least.

They can heat the bowl of water and bring him a piece of cloth?

Better than nothing. He will use plenty of soap. He badly needs sleep. 

(The PDA will die within a few minutes of reclaiming his charger and curling up on the door to sleep.)

When he wakes, the vehicle is gone, the tunnel continues out of sight in both directions, and there are only a few people around: a few of the fire people, including the black-and-white one from before, sleeping; the same furry-but-not-fire-person from the vehicle, and a giant beetle. When they see he's awake, they offer him more water and nuts, and wake up the black-and-white one.

A - not a night, a time - of fitful sleep has put him in a slightly refreshed frame of mind.

The Exodus is still out there, he hopes. Singh is still out there, maybe but does that really matter?

They said a lot of platitudes during the training. About - being pioneers, stepping beyond the surly bonds of Earth, beyond nations, to the highest and noblest purpose of humanity.

For once, he actually thinks he gets it. Whether these are space aliens with fire-producing cybernetics, fantasy races like elves or something, or a long-lost colony of humans, or some insane secret project, he has got to get his shit together. No room to freak out. 

Whatever the situation is, it demands that he take it seriously, and is possibly the most important thing he will ever do in his life.

You do what you can with what you have. And what does he have? Himself, his mind, his patience, and a PDA with a starkly limited battery life and no current method of recharging it. He'll ration the remaining battery power, making sure to turn his helmet computer and suit warmers off, and managing the chain of chargers and cables to concentrate the remaining charge into one of the big power cells.

"Gentlepeople," he says, "I know you don't understand me right now, but I want to say it out loud. I am delighted to meet you all, and looking forward to learning from each other."

And then... They can get to drawing and mime and pointing and vocabulary games, and diligent, focused mock conversation, like one of the better quality language classes. 

Time continues to pass, as it tends to do. The Exodus colony shifts to a slow and careful surveying and scouring of the debris field, with one rover continuing to search for a path off the glacier.

Three more days pass.

Recent finds: A lot of scrap and debris, a damaged recycling module (brought in anyway in hopes of repairing it), a third habitat module, a mining module in good shape, and a few intact-ish supply lockers. They take the time to start mapping out the most dangerous areas of fallout, cautious work with dosimeters and such. They have highly reflective metal signs, freshly fabricated and painted with the unmistakable yellow and black trefoil, and pound them into the ice with sledgehammers at even intervals.

They recover the Shuttle, ready for inspection and refurbishment. More modules go up. A second Hydroponics. The third Habitat, giving everyone more room to live in. An Entertainment Module, full of sports courts, a swimming pool, miniature theaters, video game and VR setups, and even a miniature spa, almost entirely automated.

They don't find the Bridge.

The name vote ends up lingering for longer than anyone expected, as submissions continue to roll in and the senior officers allow the debate to continue. By now it's down to a top ten.

...Okay okay, fine. Twelve.

Sheesh! Sixteen, sure!

A lot of people are pushing hard towards 'Icehole' as the one remaining obvious tongue-in-cheek option.

Nivis
Glacies
Whiteplains
Nova Terra
Nadir
Icehole
Charon
Foundation
Exodus
Aurora
Mir
Faith 
Stygia
Refuge
Frosthaven
Solstice

"It's funny how quick everything becomes... Normal. Isn't it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Here we are on an alien planet, frigid as the antarctic plain, having survived a catastrophic crash, and... It's just life. My boy is going to school. We're building the colony. I'm holding meetings and discussing the situation with everyone, but it all feels like just another drill on some level, doesn't it?"

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Uh, sure. I'm not actually military, you know?"

"I think that feeling of normalcy is not something shared by the general population. It's not shared by me. I'm- I'm the one who interacts with the general public while your duties consist of liaising with the officers, managing inventory, and planning future operations and work. Relatively few people. Who know you, and act professionally... The general mood is not one of normalcy and saying so is something of a shock."

It stings.

...He maybe has a point. She's always been prone to that mental attractor, the typical mind problem.

"This situation feels very, very non-normal to me. People we both knew are dead. It is not normal. It should not be treated as normal. Ma'am."

"Tell it like it is, huh. No, you're right. I don't know. I'm just feeling... Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Mmh. I don't disagree."