Your head is pounding and your ears are ringing. Your body is covered with sweat and you feel bruised from head to toe. Your vision is too blurry to discern anything at first, but it is slowly clearing. You have a metallic taste in your mouth and you smell something burning.
As your vision clears, you see sunlight overhead. That can’t be right, but why not? You struggle in vain to remember who you are, where you are, and what just happened. As the colors and shapes form around you and sharpen, you realize you liked it better when you couldn’t see.
You’re lying on a twisted chunk of metal; the hull around you has been ripped away, exposing you to the balmy open air. Smoldering sections of the ship you must have been on are scattered as far as you can see. There are bodies strewn about, some bloody, some burned, and none are moving.
The sun is odd. A bit too large and orange to be Sol or Wasp12, but how do you know that when you can’t recall any details about those places? The foliage is thick and dark blue. You’re sure you have never been here and something about being ‘outside’ continues to nag at your senses.
You try to move. Your arms seem to function, though shakily. But when you try to move your legs, you discover a nasty gash under the torn, blood-soaked left pant leg of your dirty orange jumpsuit. On closer inspection, you see a metal shard jutting out next to a fragment of your broken shin bone. This is very bad. The bleeding is slow, but the skin around the injury is very swollen and turning green and white. You imagine the alien microbes that have already entered your system and are busy causing a nasty infection. You need to remove the metal shard, set your broken leg, and find some nanite-gel, or this wound will likely kill you.
As you look around, trying to see a med-kit, preferably within arms reach, you hear an odd skittering noise that sounds close and seems to be getting closer. A weapon might be nice right about now too. Looking around with quite a bit more urgency, you spot both items, but neither is in easy reach. Attached to a bulkhead, about 2 meters to your left, is a med-kit. About 3 meters to your right is the grip of a weapon, just visible underneath the corpse of a man in a black jumpsuit. You have a sudden flash...
There is a man in a black jumpsuit, MPL (Military Pulse-Laser) in hand, shoving you down a dimly lit corridor. You have the urge to kill him with your bare hands, but they are bound.
The odd approaching skittering sound pulls you back to the present. You notice scabs circling your wrists and you wonder why you were bound and how the binding was removed, but now is not the time for reminiscing.
You fight the urge to panic and force yourself to make a somewhat clear-headed decision…
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