Evangeline stood in combined bewilderment and bemusement at the scene that had unfolded before her.
Those two are the only people that could ever happen to. And they're the only two it ever will happen to.
A heavy sigh escapes the woman's lips as she shakes her head in disappointment for a moment before issuing an order over the radio.
Someone get down there and get that ship out of the sand. Oh and make sure they're both alive, too.
One of the small fleet of robotic vehicles suspends its' current duties and moves over to the "crash" site under control of a man riding atop it in a space suit.
After traversing the combination of smoothed-out landing pad, mounds of discarded rocks and slag and slipping over the spongy sand dunes, it eventually crawls over to the stranded ship. The tractors' driver hops off and unenthusiastically, yet professionally, slaps a towing chain to the Eagle's rear end. Evangeline watches over the entire procedure from the comfort of the border world transports' luxurious command room.
The tractor is put into reverse and pulls at best speed backwards. The chain is pulled taught and heaves heavily on the embedded vessel. Although it is moved a significant amount, it is not freed on the first attempt. A second subsequent tug is made, this time the ship is successfully evicted of its sandy residence. It clumsily falls to the ground after floating for a short distance in the meagre gravity well the moon offered.
The young, male driver of the wheeled vehicle removes the chain, his gaze crossing Rachel's with clear malcontent, shaking his head as he angrily returns to his post on the tractor and returns to his original duties. He briefly speaks over the radio.
They seem alive enough to me. I'm going back to work.
Evangeline observes the two standing figures of Billy and Rachel seemingly engaged in a lovers' spat in the dust cloud beside the rescued, yet still dead, Eagle.