Business went on around the Pelican Mk IV as usual. Each person manning their post, running their checks, taking their breaks, or otherwise living as normal aboard the merchant ship. As such, nobody noticed when a small craft, made more of pieces than organized parts, blurred by in the other direction. It barely warranted a blip on the nav panel, and the system was so old that the pilots had learned to ignore the occasional mistake. But then everything changed when they breached the energy field. Screens went fuzzy, people were knocked off balance, plasma-blow torches fizzled, and the FTL drive lulled for one panic inducing moment. It reengaged, but the ship and changed course by a few degrees, and was now moving deeper into the dangerous zone. All systems were on the fritz, and mechanics were trying to cut off non-essentials while guards controlled the chaos. Unfortunately for those around the generator, all of it was in vain. The first explosion, which would have been audible well over a mile away were there air in space, took most of the crew. Around half of the ship’s volume was severely damaged when the generator detonated, and another third was affected by the FTL drive shortly there after. Of the 17 which survived that, only 9 survived the Crash. As the survivors emerge from the wreckage, which had once served as their residence, they quickly realize the severity of the incident. The ship had skidded across a rather dense forest, leaving a large portion flattened. Vital components seem to be scattered across the terrain, some of which are incredibly damaged and warped. As if the condition of the ship is not bad enough, the insides are a truly horrible sight. Bodies of the newly deceased crew members, damaged equipment, and cargo litter the rooms and corridors. It would take people with rather strong stomachs to count and record the salvageable supplies. The remaining crew must now work together. The 9 of them must survive, discover, and explore what this planet has to offer, and to depart before Death greets them, or worse.
Wyatt awoke with a splitting headache, matched with a set of ringing ears. He had been fully conscious during the explosion of the generator, but as the ship crashed onto the terrain, he lost consciousness. He could barely feel his left arm, his vision was blurred, and his right leg was weak, but he was determined to get up, Wyatt felt skeptical about staying. He arose with a limp, and almost fell when he looked around. The sight was indescribable, and the smell was unimaginable, both bringing Wyatt to tears. His friends, crew mates, who he'd been living with for nearly 3 years covered the floors, motionless. He gagged, desperately trying to get out of the room. "Hello?!" He yelled, terrified at the thought of being the only survivor. Please!" He cried. "If you're alive, make a noise, move, something, please!"
The screeching of metal crushing metal caused Rowan's eyes to finally open, and the metal panel that fell directly in front of his head with a thud shocked them into closing again. ... Rowan groaned as he reclaimed his senses. His body felt numb and tired. His mouth dry. His stomach upset. His feet... he let out a short yelp as he pulled them out from under what looked like a table. His feet, draped in his battered black shoes, were still there. Thank god. Rowan overcame the agony that enveloped his body and pulled himself to his feet. He now realized how close that metal panel was to crushing his head. He shuddered. Turning himself around, Rowan took in the whole situation. The plane crashed... and... he frantically surveyed the ground, ...bodies... He winced and held back the tears that tried to break free. Okay... okay okay... I need.... to find someone. As he lifted one leg to begin searching for survivors, he heard someone yelling from what he guessed was about 20 feet away. He trekked over the wreckage towards the voice while avoiding the deceased crew mates. Soon he found the source of the voice. A face he recognized from having seen it a few times. Not completely sure if his voice would work, while also not sure what to say, Rowan coughed out a shaky "Hi" to the man. He took a moment to regain his composure. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
The world was upside down. Well, to Crazyon it was, as he was hanging upside down, one of his limbs tangled up in some wire. "Uhg, this is rather inconvenient..." He popped his arm out of the socket quickly to dislodge himself, then he quickly popped it back into place. He rotated his arm once, and upon hearing a click, he stopped moving it. "Now...Let's see what has happened..." He briefly viewed the scene before him, it was a rather grisly sight, as nearly everyone who had been around him were now nothing but piles of parts. Crazyon sighed. As he began to gather the remains, he mumbled to himself. "Well, this isn't great, but at least I'm fine...I should at least bury what I find, plus, scavenging for materials is always useful."
Wyatt quickly wiped the tears which had run down his face. He was a guard, he shouldn't be showing so much emotion, even in this type of situation. He looked at the man before him, unsure of what to think, but he took the man's concern for him as genuine. "Thank God." He said after studying the man. "I'm mostly alright, just a bit of pain in my arm and leg, but other than that I should be fine." "Right..." Rowan replied. He hadn't fully assessed his own health yet, as he was eager to find someone else. His body for the most part felt tired and heavy. The emotional pain might be a bit harder to get past... "So I guess we should search for anyone who might need our help." "Absolutely, there must be others. It would be best if we stick together for now, seeing as how the ship's condition may have left some areas hazardous. We also should try to find an exit, I can only remain around the dead for so long." He joked, attempting to lighten the grim mood. Rowan tilted his head down and forced out a laugh. He stood for a moment, readying himself to begin searching with the man. "Oh, by the way, I don't even know your name. I've seen you a few times on the ship though. I'm Rowan Seong. Communication and negotiations." Wyatt put out his hand and Rowan shook it. "Wyatt Banks, Security Guard."
The unmistakable taste of blood filled Gouto’s mouth as he rose from his short-lived sleep. Everything had gone wrong. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He’d been trained in dealing with situations like this, but the grim reality of the situation left him stunned. People had died around him and he had been powerless to stop them, he’d been trusted with the lives of the crew of the Pelican and he had failed to protect them. He was a- No, stop. Gouto willed himself away from those thoughts as the fog in his head cleared up. The room… no, hallway, he was in was barely visible, illuminated only by small strips of red emergency lights that survived the crash. He could have sworn that they were white. He was slumped against a corner with a wall to his back and his right. There were several shapes that stood out against the darkness, some which seemed distressingly familiar. None of the shadows moved or made a sound. From the far end of the hallway there was a faint light coming from where the hallway made a sharp turn to the right. His entire body was devoid of feeling save for a dull ache in his midsection. He looked down at his body to survey the extent of his wounds. His armor and uniform was covered in blood, unknown to him if it was his or someone else’s. There were several pieces of sharp, twisted metal stuck to his vest, though it seemed that the padding had stopped them from getting too far. Thankfully, everything seemed to be where it should be and after several minutes, he managed to coax his limbs to move. Have to get out of here, Gouto thought. Rescue would arrive soon and take them away, the company would get their insurance payment and the workers would get their reparations. He reached out to find something to hold on to, eventually settling on a safety railing and hoisted himself into a standing position. The lack of feeling in his body worried him, as did the large amounts of blood, but he was good at ignoring things like that. Ignoring the little things is what got him here today, after all. Using the railings for support, Gouto made his way towards the light.
Of the numerous sensations now pounding at Polaris in the dark, airtight sample fridge that barely saved his life, it was faint shouting that jolted him to consciousness. He kicked feebly at the door, desperately trying to get out of the tiny enclosure. After numerous, panicked kicks the door budged. A faint sliver of light poured into the fridge, greeting the blue Novakid with the acrid smell of burning fuel and something...sweet? Shit, I'm not dreaming. Creaking noisily, the heavy door swung open. Polaris had to grab the edges of the fridge to keep from tumbling out of the now-missing research facility. The only reason he possibly survived was because the lock had melted the fridge shut in the explosion that sent most of the research facility out to space. All four floors of it. "H-help!" Polaris screamed out at the fifty-foot drop. Had this been different circumstances, the view of the forest would've been breathtaking (well, one could say it still is, but for completely separate reasons), but now it just couldn't be appreciated. Polaris slowly began to crouch, grabbing a hole in the freshly scorched floor. He slid out a bit, hooking his foot onto a hanging wire. "HELLO??" Anybody!" He shouted, looking around. "Oh, Christ..." He whispered to himself, now noticing what the sweet smell was. The lab he was in had a thick glass wall separating it from the forensics department. On the other side was bodies. People he used to work with, scorched into shriveled, black figured. "C-Cassy!" He struggled his way up to where the door used to be, climbing up and resting on the doorway. He picked up a slightly misshapen metal O. "My wife..." He stared at the brand in shock and disbelief. "Why...why couldn't it have been me...?" He silently lamented. After the shock came anger. He wouldn't let himself die up here, he'd make his undeserved survival worth something. Polaris tucked the brand into his belt and shakily walked across the diagonal floor, one foot on the floor, one on the glass wall. He managed to make his way over to the corner of the wall, reaching down and grabbing a rather thick wire that was entangled on the warped wall. He pulled on it with all his might, ripping out the entire line. "This should make the fall survivable, at least." He told himself, tying it tightly to his waist. Either way, he'd fall to his death or starve up on the ship, and to him, falling would be the better way to go. He shimmied back to the empty doorway, leading the wire with him. He tied it messily into a gap on the doorway and let himself slide off. Despite being prepared for it, he did scream quite loudly, instantly regretting his decision. Suddenly, he was jolted mid-flight, pain flaring throughout his torso. After a few minutes of recuperation from the jolt, he looked down, judging the fall to be about 15 feet or so. "This is going to suck." He repeatedly told himself as he untied the thick wire from his chest. *WHUMP* Stars danced in his vision as he sat up, shaking his head and dusting off whatever dirt/ash/or anything else that clung to his clothes.
"Ughhh, what the..." James awoke to find himself surrounded by an impenetrable inky blackness, the only sliver of light available through hairline crack, no more than a couple of millimeters thick, just above his head. Wherever he was, the air was musty and thick with dust, as if it had been kicked up by some kind of impact. As James shifted to a sitting position, he felt his body wracked with pain. "Aaargh!", He couldn't help but cry out, clutching at his side. While he sat, he took a minute to regain his composure and assess the situation around him; recent events starting to fade into memory. I remember now, the generator exploded and after that... total chaos. I must have been knocked out somehow. Slowly it began to click: James was sitting buried under a pile of debris from the crash. Panic began to set in: Oh shit! I'm trapped! What if nobody finds me? What if I was the only one who lived?! This is it; I'm going to die here. I'm going to fucking DIE trapped under a sheet of metal- That's when he noticed it, on his wrist -The kinetics module! Maybe this thing still has some power left. Surely enough, as James pressed a button on the device it whirred to life, a small, dimly backlit display now visible. Flashing on the display in small red lettering was the text "Warning: 5% power remaining. Recharge immediately before next usage." Looks like this is all I'm going to get out of it for now. He pointed the kinetics module at sliver of light above his head, the sounds of metal groaning and creaking around him as the debris shifted. James moved the panel above him slowly and steadily, widening the gap above him to create a hole large enough to climb out of. As light flooded in from the outside, he could see he was in some kind of dense forest. Once the opening was large enough, James climbed out of the pile of debris and briefly surveyed his surroundings. There was only a few bits of burning rubble scattered about. I must have fallen a little ways from the main crash site. As he looked around, James could see no signs of any people, let alone another survivor. "Helloooooo? Anybody alive?", he called out, hoping somebody would be around to hear him.
Glancing in the direction of the voice, Crazyon had just finished burying those that he had found. "Eh? Are you alright...?" He called out. As he was calling out, a small purple box drew his attention. "It made it!" He mumbled to himself. He quickly scooped it up and placed it in his coat.
Come on... One... Two... Three... Four... The flickering red light illuminated the ruined medical ward. In the center of a hastily made clearing sat a form casting off a soft white light onto the unresponsive body that it appeared to give chest-compressions to. She knew it was senseless to try, but she could never leave the possibility of another survivor. After a minute or two of attempted revival, the Novakid decided to accept the idea she was alone in the heart of the ship. She stood up and walked across debris, ruined medical supplies, and a body she did not want to identify to get out of the room and into the medic offices. She ducked below hanging ventilation units and cables, tripped over broken furniture, and slipped on mysterious liquids until she reached the locker where her bag was stored. She unlocked it, thanking whatever divine being that was apparently watching over her and taking everything of use out of the locker. A few bandages, some scissors, and her well-worn medical bag. She etched the stitched name on her bag "Centauri" and felt a bit better about her awful situation. She peered out the doorway of the room and looked down the hallway, lit eerily by fading red light. There is nothing to hurt me... Nobody is going to pop out... Centauri reassured herself. She took one feeble step down the dark hallway, using the glow from her body to guide herself. A slight breeze tickled her, giving her hope that she was not trapped by a collapsed hallway. Please, oh please mean there is a way out of this hell. After almost two hours and a half of a nervous breakdown, Centauri saw the best thing that ever greeted her, light. She wanted desperately to call out for anyone, to know if she wasn't the only living soul on the ship, but she knew that was bit possible, so she picked up a broken pipe and began to make as much noise as possible, hoping to attract the attention of at least someone.
A small child looking up towards the heavens. The feel of soft hair brushing against one's neck. The sound of a woman sobbing in the distance. The taste of a succulent well-done steak. The smell of charred skin. The...wait...what!? Yury eyes fluttered open as he gasped for air and struggled to remove whatever was lying across his chest. Though his vision was blurred, Yury realized that was it was Alexei he was attempting to pry off his chest. He immediately stopped, "Alexei..", he whispered quietly....no response, "Alexei.", more forceful this time....no response, "Alexei! Wake up!", still....no response. It was then that the fear and realization begun to settle in, but Yury knew he couldn't allow them to take root. So, after few deep breathes and some mental preparation, Yury grabbed hold of his former crew-mate's shoulders and pushed with all of his might. The result of his exertion was....gruesome to say the least. A sickening sound, like asphalt being peeled from pavement, echoed though-out the whole of the maintenance deck, followed closely by a pained scream. Yury's breathing turned ragged and his eyes widen as he gazed upon the torn skin across his upper body, though that was not the worst part. It was when he saw the remnants of Alexei's face glued on his left pectoral was when he lost self-control. Bile rose from his stomach as Yury scrambled across the bunk room in a desperate attempt to reach the near-by bathroom. Unfortunately, his stomach would not be denied and he proceeded to empty it's contents all across the metallic floor. This went on for several seconds till Yury was reduced to dry-heaving and gasping for air. He eventually managed to regain control of his faculties and lifted himself off the harsh metal grating. Now slumped against the wall, he slowly made his way towards the bathroom guided by a small emergency light above the door. The engineer grabbed the latch and manually slid the door aside until he could pass and entered the washroom.Lit only by a small orange emergency light above the mirror, Yury staggered towards the sink and hoped the water condensers were still functional and upon one turn of the valve he got his answer. Much scrubbing and drinking later, Yury walked back into the bunk-room and headed towards his locker, all the while averting his gaze from Alexei's corpse. He placed his hand against the id scanner, the heat from his touch was enough the power it and the subsequent click was music to his ears. He quickly opened the locker door and removed a few articles of clothing from inside the its murky depths. A pale blue jacket with orange shoulder, elbow and cuff padding followed by a white buttoned shirt, light brown pants and dark brown leather boots. After a minute of changing Yury took the remaining contents from the storage container and closed it shut. Numerous items laid before as he spread them across his bed. A small paper notebook, an artificial amaranth, a brown glove with a mechanical wrist attachment, and a faded photograph. Yury first put on the glove and proceeded to check whether or not it was still functional and wasn't surprised to find any signs of damage. Next, he took the paper notebook and stored it away inside of his jacket pocket. However, he lingered on the last two items, almost unsure whether or not he should take them. With a resigned sigh, he took the amaranth and photo and secured them within his coat. Taking a deep breathe, Yury walked towards the main door grabbed the latch and slid it open, but looked back regretfully at Alexei's body before stepping into the maintenance deck. "I'm sorry...", and with that, he stepped into the main hallway and sealed the room shut.
Jack managed to flutter his eyes open, struggling with the pain from the crash that had just occurred. Dangling off the side of the ship, a hole at the other side of the corridor Jack was walking through moments before, he glanced upon the vast green forest that beheld him. He vaguely heard noises coming from all directions; shouting, the screeching of bending metal and the buzzing of the fire. Jack pulled himself up onto the side of the ship, and scanned the corridor of any way to escape. The floor appeared wet from burst water supplies and flickering red lights barely illuminated the surroundings. The ship was tilted downwards, so getting through this was going to be excruciatingly difficult. Jack took only one step, and this was more than enough for him to slip over onto his back and begin sliding down the corridor floor, unable to stop himself. The further the ship took him, the darker it became. And the darker it became, the hope of getting out alive grew thinner. Jack was still sliding down the corridor floor when the floor gave way, unveiling a mass of buzzing wires and electrical machines that could kill any man that were to fall on-top. Just before he reached the end of the floor, he jumped and grabbed onto a set of poles above him. He then had to 'monkey bar' across to get to the other side. "I.. need to find someone". Once Jack reached the other end of the corridor, he passed out into the darkness. Around 10 minutes later, Jack awoke feeling dizzy and dehydrated with a splitting headache. He had to get out, and this was his last chance. Using his mechanical hand positioned on his right hand, he punched the door as hard as he could which erupted from it's hinges. Jack was launched through the air and as he was falling, he braced himself for the upcoming glass window that he was evidently going to have to smash through. A loud sound of shattered glass echoed around the area. And Jack just laid there, debating if this was his final rest place.
Crazyon was thinking. He was lucky, among all those who had been around him, he was the only one who received little to no damage. Among that, his belongings were still safe in their container. Debating on what to do, Crazyon decided on trying to find others who had lived...
Wyatt and Rowan went forth, determined to find other survivors. The damage to the ship seemed to be greater the further they went from the spot where either had woken up. The bodies were becoming increasingly charred with each room they passed, as they were getting closer to the spot of the former generator. "We should turn here." Wyatt suggested, pointing to an empty hallway. "the closer we get to the generator, the smaller the chance of us finding a survivor." Rowan nodded in agreement and they stepped into the hallway. The hallway was dark, but Wyatt pointed out a small tinge of red light flickering around the walls further down. As the duo travelled down towards the light, they began to hear the sound of heavy footsteps echoing faintly around them. Picking up speed, they followed the noise and soon found its source. The red lights illuminated the shadow travelling along the edge of the hallway every few seconds, revealing its form- a hylotl in a bloody guard uniform. Gouto continued along his path towards the light. He had begun hearing noises along the ship. Muffled voices calling out for help, loud banging along the walls, footsteps in the dark. He couldn't tell what was real and fake. Feeling had slowly begun creeping into his body, bringing pain along with it. He'd made it the last few feet, but it was clear that he would have to stop. There was clearly something wrong with his ribs and the back of his head felt sticky and damp. He clutched his chest as he tried to slowly lower himself onto the ground. His hand slipped from the railing and he was sent crashing into the ground face-first. Good enough. Wyatt and Rowan rushed over as they saw the hylotl fall. "Hello?!" Wyatt yelled in his face. "Rowan, I know this guy. He's another guard!" Gouto muttered inaudibly to himself as he tried to push the source of the noise away. It was clearly a person, but their words were muted and their face blurry. He decided to stay quiet for now. Wyatt picked up Gouto, and carried him, fireman style. "Let's get going. He looks pretty banged up." Rowan began to object, thinking that it's dangerous to carry someone who could be severely injured, but decided against it. The three made their way outside, only to find a man laying on the ground, surrounded by glass.
Meanwhile, James stumbled about the forest, following the signs of wreckage and hoping to find the main crash site (and any potential survivors along with it). "ffssssrgh" Each step, he bit his tongue and grit his teeth to distract from the excruciating pain. Miraculously, James seemed to have avoided any major injuries during the crash, but he was still heavily bruised and contused all over, making moving any considerable distance a painful prospect. He attributed this to the pile of debris he was trapped under; ironically the metal sheet he thought would spell his own death had actually acted remarkably well as a shield, providing James with a little cavity in which he was protected from other falling parts. After what seemed like an eternity of walking in his current state, James happened upon what was undoubtedly the main crash site. Before him was a scene of complete and utter carnage. The foul stench of singed flesh permeated the air, causing the technician to reflexively gag and choke. There was no survivors to be found here, only death. The ground was littered with tens of charred and burned corpses, any distinguishing or even recognisable features long since melted away. James could only stare in absolute terror at the remains of the Pelican's former crew - even in death, their forms still seemingly writhing in pain and agony. The prospect of him being the only survivor was seeming more and more like it was actually the case. Suddenly, the eerie silence was broken by the sound of shattering glass. Another survivor?! James made his way towards the source of the noise as quickly as he could. There, he found another body, lying in a bed of broken glass. He didn't recognise the person but whoever he was, he was certainly worse for wear though definitely still breathing. He must still be unconscious James grabbed the man by the shoulders and gently shook him, hoping to wake him. "Hello, can you hear me? Are you awake?"
*THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK* The loud banging reverberated off of the narrow hallways. Centauri slowly began to hit the walls with a little rhythm to keep herself distracted from the horrible situation she found herself in. To her, it almost felt as if the light she saw grew ever so further away as she trudged on. Please, oh please don't let me be alone, Centauri thought to herself ad nauseum as she approached the light, now blinding to her after the almost interminable darkness that permeated the newly made mausoleum. As Centauri hopped down from the opening, she noticed that she was within a massive crater the ruined vessel had ripped open. Huh, it's almost beautiful, in a sick way... After a few moments of taking in the scenery, she began to walk the perimeter of the ship, hoping to find supplies or survivors, all the while whacking any metal scraps she neared with the pipe she'd been using. As she walked on, her mood worsened. She had passed numerous bodies, some she could have saved had she passed by minutes earlier. I probably couldn't have saved them in time anyways... They had to have been dead for hours... Centauri reassured herself as she sat down and buried her face in her pink, crystalline hands. Distant shouting jolted her from the brief moment of crushing guilt, her face lighting up with hope. Literally. She started glowing a bit brighter as she stood shakily and started slamming the pipe she took against a nearby pile of scrap. Please hear me...Please...
Yury walked along the narrow corridor at a brisk pace, eager to find a passage that lead him to the outside world. However, it was slow goings due to the amount of rubble that impeded his progress. He was either forced to backtrack in-order to locate another route or shuffle awkwardly through the debris, more of the former than the latter. It also didn't help that it was nearly pitch black, save for the flashlight attached to his muti-tool. After what felt like nearly a half an hour and several cuts and bruises later, Yury finally emerged from the depths of the maintenance deck only to knocked back from the stench of the medical ward. Unlike the previous deck, the medical ward was home to almost three times the amount of crewmen. Disgusted yet determined, Yury covered his face with his left hand and proceeded down the dimly lit hallway, all the while averting his eyes from the remains of his ship-mates. The only positive was the fact that is was much easier to traverse the corridors here than in the other deck, though it wasn't much of a consolation. "Just how many died during the crash..." , the engineer thought wearily to himself. Yury shook his head, deciding it was best not to dwell on those type thoughts and focus just on exiting the fallen craft. Several minutes passed before Yury located a partial opened airlock and couldn't help but smile as he noticed the sun shafts the streamed through the opening. However, after several attempts of trying to open it, Yury realized the latch mechanism was jammed. "Of course it wouldn't be that easy.", Yury forlornly said to himself as he stared at his only path to freedom. Not giving up though, he started to inspect the latch in hopes of finding a way to release it. His efforts were rewarded when he found a small shard of metal embedded within the latch. Activating the plasma cutter on his muti-tool, Yury begun cutting away the shard and after a several "shaving" Yury managed to remove the shard and free the latch. Grasping the handle with both hands he pulled the airlock open. Unfortunately, in his rush to escape from the Pelican, he didn't realize the floor had mostly collapsed and ended up tumbled down through the chamber and out the torn hull. "Shit!", Yury cried as he flew out from a hole in the hull and dropped nearly three meters before landing with a painful thud infront of a startled Novakid. "Ughh..." the tech moaned as he hoisted himself into a sitting a position and rested his back against the ship's hull. He turned and looked at the white Novakid, "Sorry...didn't mean to surprise you. My name his Yu-Keith Landen...uhh..I worked in the maintenance deck...Arghhh.." Yury grasped the right side of his abdomen and upon pulling his hand away he noticed it was covered in blood. "Just my luck...", he mumbled to himself.
Starting his way out, Crazyon checked his helmet to make sure it was still in working condition, luckily it had barely been scratched. To his dismay,most of his equipment was decimated due to the impact, and was unrepairable. Sighing to himself yet again, Crazyon climbed out of the hole, and walked away from the wreckage of the ship. Standing a fair amount from the ship, Crazyon surveyed it from the dark shade of a nearby plant, watching for anything moving.
Centauri, a little shaken by the human that just fell in front of her, gestured to her throat and shook her head. She raised her hands and signed "I can't exactly talk, so I hope you can understand me. Upon noticing the man that just introduced himself as Keith was bleeding, Centauri held out her medic bag and pulled out a roll of bandages. Yury looked puzzled for a moment at the hand gestures, but quickly realized what she meant. "Ah, I understand..., sorry though I don't know sign language." He noticed the of bandages and sighed happily. He quickly removed his jacket and lifted the lower part of his shirt. " Thanks.." Centauri nodded as she unrolled a large portion of the roll. She knelt down to get a stable footing for wrapping his side, stretched out a length oft he bandage, and began to tightly wrap the bandage around Keith's abdomen. Well, this could be worse, but too bad I can't ask if there are others. When she finished, she stood and dusted her pant legs off, giving a 'thumbs up' to signify it was all fine. Yury nodded in appreciation and slowly put on his jacket. He raised himself off the ground using the hull for support and gazed at his surroundings. It appeared that the ship had created a small clearing upon impact, though beyond that all he saw was a dense forest canopy. Yury tilted his head towards the medic, "I suppose you haven't found any other survivors?" Though Yury could already tell what the answer was going to be. Unknowingly reaffirming the newly mended human's thoughts, Centauri shook her head sadly, the ripe stench of the other crew members still fresh in her mind. She showed him the pipe that she was using earlier to attract attention, overly exaggerating a swinging motion against the ship's hull and cupping her right ear for emphasis. She almost found the situation amusing, being unable to communicate with the only other living soul she had come across. Centauri shrugged after her explanation and started walking on, waving her free hand at Keith as if to say 'come on', all the while banging her trusty pipe. Yury pushed himself off the ship's hull and followed closely behind, gripping his wound all the while. The engineer couldn't help but be amused at her explanation and laughed softly to himself. "Now that you mention it...", He said as they trekked near the ship, "I do remember hearing some banging on my way down. Though, I wasn't really focused on that at the time." Yury sighed and the the two fell into a somewhat awkward silence. Yury completely unsure of what to say and Centauri because she could not speak. He wasn't accustomed to having to make conversation, he always had relied on wife to cover for him. Yury shook his head refusing to habor on such thoughts.
After much searching, shouting, and scavenging for supplies, the small group of survivors have set up a temporary campsite composed: of six tents made from torn up fabrics and ruined clothes from the ship set up in a half-circle; a rather substantial fire burning freshly cut wood; and a ramshackle fence built from in-salvageable scraps. Unfortunately, the group was only able to scavenge enough supplies to last for a few days, but they had greater things to worry about, as the sun was just touching the edge of the horizon and icy temperatures would plague their first night. Of course, the fire would be more than enough to keep the terrible cold at bay with enough collected wood to last the night. Food would certainly be an issue for the survivors, as not much survived the initial generator explosion. The situation was as grim as the group's spirits. After all, one could only function so well after having their world ripped up from the ground and torn to shreds. Lost on an alien world they know literally nothing about, no way to contact others to rescue them. As the night approached, the massive cloud of dust and ash in the air that was sent up when the ship impact made impact darkened even more, heralding the deadly mistress of impending and almost certain death. It was as if the forest knew this as well. No birds chirped, no animals chattered, only deafening silence permeated the chilling air, as if the very forest was holding its breath, waiting... But for what?
