Rules and Guidance for Astronaut Welfare on Small Moons

By: submission | July 28, 2026

Author: Kevlin Henney

Alcohol is not permitted onboard any landing vehicles or habitats.

“Damn, Natalya!” Don chokes. “You sure this is vodka not fuel?”

“It’s good, right?” Natalya takes back the cylindrical metal flask.

“And you distilled this on the way out?”

“The journey to Saturn is s-o-o long.” She inserts her straw and takes a sip. “Nobody cares as long as you share.”

No food or drink is to be consumed during any extra-vehicular activity.

Suits on, visors up, they stand in the airlock.

“Gum?” Don holds out a gumball.

Natalya pops it in her mouth.

“Ready?” Don asks. Thumbs up. They close their visors.

Except for emergencies, spacewalks shall not be undertaken if any member of the EVA party is in any way mentally or physically impaired.

“Oh, hang on,” Natalya slurs. She locks Don’s helmet into place with a click.

“Good catch,” Don’s word stumble back.

“Me?”

Don leans in to examine Natalya’s helmet. Misjudging, they knock visors. Thumbs up.

Natalya pulls the lever to depressurize the airlock. In the near-absent gravity they float out of the hab, their home from home from home, onto the crater rim before descending the long, icy slope toward the crater floor. Taking flight with each stride, bouncing with each stumbled landing, they head toward the central peak. Only stars, moons and the drifting glint of the station, their home from home, can be seen in the black sky, Saturn hidden from view beyond the horizon.

Equipment shall only be used for the purposes and within the parameters of its original design.

“OK, the sample gun is as level as I can get it,” Don says, adjusting the tube atop the pitoned tripod. “Should be pointing in the right direction, give or take a couple of degrees.”

“How fast d’you reckon?” Natalya asks, handing Don the empty vodka flask to load into the tube. “Too slow, and we just hit the crater floor or, maybe, the crater wall. Too fast, it shoots off into space and we never see it again,” she starts laughing, “but maybe the station picks it up.” Don joins in.

“Just under 600 kilometers per hour should do the trick,” Don says, recovering.

“OK… just under 600 kilometers per hour… 400 grams, give or take… set. Ready?” Thumbs up.

The flask shoots out the tube, lost to the horizon in moments.

“If we got that right, it’ll circle back in about an hour,” Natalya says. “We should probably get off the peak, just in case.”

Equipment use should be planned and thoroughly reviewed before deployment.

Midway between peak and rim, they glance at the time as they scan the sky.

“There!” Natalya points at a glint of light that shoots past directly overhead.
High fives and laughter shared, they head back.

“Something we should’ve considered,” Don says as they bounce up the crater wall an hour later, the hab visible up ahead, “is that flask is now in orbit.”

“I know, right?” Natalya laughs.

“It’s just going to keep going until its orbit decays or it hits something.”

“What’s it gonna hit? The peak is the highest point on the moon.”

“Well, parts of the crater rim are almost as high.”

“Oh–”

They look up in time to see a near bullet-speed glint of light end its journey with the appearance of a hole in the hab. The hole silently rips outward, an expanding confetti cloud of hull, air and everything inside the hab.

In the event of a habitat emergency, suit oxygen supplies should be sufficient for most rescue attempts from orbit or other habitats.

Remember: stay safe.