Author's Note: This is going to be fiddled with, but ultimately it's finished.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Song for the Chapter: Colors - Crossfade
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After Dusk
By: Lady Neverafternon
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A planet, far away from any human civilization once more came into the light. Like a bowl filled to the brim with flaming light suddenly tipping, dawn flooded the dark world and brought to light horrors that could only be imagined. Shapes, terrible shapes that had swarmed over the planet like vermin out of a nightmare suddenly screamed in pain and terror, before crawling back into the ground from whence they came.
A torn, broken, despairing figure crawled slowly from the crack in a rock formation she had been hiding in and drank in the welcome light from the three suns. The body of the figure should, by all possible means, not even be moving. The woman's left arm was broken and shredded so that it hung at an odd angle, an ankle was sprained badly, several ribs were cracked and one was broken, her back was torn open by what looked by the talons of some hideous beast. The wounds had long since stopped bleeding but the huge dried scab mixed with cloth and mud where the figure had obviously tried to staunch the bleeding was discolored and not healing well.
The woman slowly and painfully drug herself to a spot where days before a small spacecraft had broken free of the planet's gravity and made its way to space and freedom.
They'd left her, they'd really left her. A dry sob choked her throat. After all that had happened, after all they'd been through she had been left behind. They'd left her. He had left her. Left her to die.
She lay there on the burned and charred area of sand miserably before dragging herself to her feet.
She looked from horizon to horizon. All about her was nothing but sand, sun, and blistering heat. It was a far cry from the wet dark hell it had been only hours before, but still, the view was decidedly bleak. After a moments of bleary eyed looking around, she spied a vehicle that had rumbled to life the moment the sun rose. The SandCat had rumbled to life the moment the brilliant fuel had struck its sensors and it purred like a baby.
Finally, hope in a desolate situation.
The woman limped to it and sank with a sigh into the hard seat. She grunted, shifting, attempting to get comfortable. The plated seat hurt her back and she knew that the vehicle's jostling would probably make her wound worse, but honestly that was something she was prepared to live with. She'd prefer being shuttled over walking any day no matter how uncomfortable it was, especially after the awful time she'd had. Pressing the power button, she fed energy into the engine. Leaning back into the seat she sighed with relief. The welcome comfort of technology was not a fixer, but it made her feel slightly better and gave her a level of security that was a balm to her ruined psyche.
The desert buggy leapt to life and jolted off into the desert away from the research station.
The corners of her eyes burned, but the woman stared straight ahead and refused to acknowledge the tears of pain, rage, and disappointment prickling at the corners of her eyes. What was done was done. Crying about it would not fix things.
It did not take her long to reach the crash site of the ruined wreckage of the Hunter-Gratznar. She stumbled to the wreck and reassessed the damage. The ship itself was trashed beyond fixing, but the there were a few sections with minimal damage and others with none at all. With a determined growl she set about cleansing and binding her wounds with a med kit before turning to the wrecked craft itself.
It took her almost six months to salvage the wreck into a feasible flying craft, and even then it was not a sure thing that it would even break orbit. For all intents and purposes though, she'd built a spaceship. It look like she'd taken random chunks of ship shaped metal and nailed them together with spit and a prayer.
She had been terrified that the suns would disappear again, and that the creatures would return, but they didn't. She spent all her time fighting tooth and nail with the wrecked ship sealing holes and transferring power from the left over power cells into her makeshift vessel. It was tedious and slow work, but it finally was finished. She was pleased as punch when the Hunter-Gratznar's test system transfered without a problem and she was able to run a systems check on her new ships computer and engine.
The computer promptly informed her that her patchwork craft would never pass regulations but it was feasible. The last thing she cared about was passing Company standards. Well, Carolyn Fry decided she would get out of here or die trying. The hell with spending the rest of her life in this godforsaken shithole.
With closed eyes and a single murmured prayer, she flipped on the engine for the final burn.
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Edmond McLain, Ed for short, was 42 and the chief mechanic on the space station Grolier Classic II. He wasn't proud of his job, but it was a living and he did it well. As for his personality he was nice enough, a little on the rough side and being Irish he had the stereotypical wild thatch of red hair and the fondness for drink. He lived a normal life, went to work and managed his crew and sent money home to his lady and kids. Days flowed together in a mundane blur. Nothing out of the ordinary really happened on the Grolier Classic, except for the occasional brawl between roughnecks and settlers.
That was to be expected though. Life was a blur out here on the edge of the known universe. You worked, and you kept your nose clean. Nothing really happened out of the ordinary.
So the day that the makeshift spaceship came crashing into the hanger was quite a day indeed. The ship looked like it had been half-hazard nailed together and about ready to fall apart. And more than half of it did fall apart when it landed, strewing his hanger with smoking debris. If that could be called a landing. More like crashing delicately. He was even more surprised when a young woman, who looked even more worse off than her ship, stumbled from its interior. She stayed conscious long enough to say two things.
"M-my name's Carolyn Fry. May I have a drink of water please?" Then she collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.
Which was not surprising considering the situation; the woman looked almost as shitty as her ship.
Ed McLain whistled in astonishment before motioning some men over to take this Carolyn Fry to sickbay. He stood looking at her ship for a long moment before shaking his head. He was impressed in spite of himself.
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It would be days and days before the last survivor of the dark planet awoke, and when she did she had no inkling to speak about where she had come from or who she was. She also denied vehemently that her name was Carolyn Fry. Instead she called herself Abigail Lee. Ed felt guilty about it, but he had to tell her about the damage her ship caused to the hanger, as well as her massive medical bill. She had listened in silence before telling him she had no way to pay off her debts. She didn't talk about her pilot status with the Company and she figured the Company had cut ties with her long ago, and appearing back on their radar would not do her a lick of good. They'd detain her and being detained by the Company was no joke.
Ed McLain was silent a moment, thinking.
"Well lass, since you have exceptional skills as a pilot and mechanic, I'll sign you on as one of my deep space engine mechanics. After a while, when your debts are paid, you can leave. Or you can stay if you like. The lodgins' good, plain but comfortable. And you'll be left alone. All workers get their own set of rooms, company provided o' course," Ed McLain said. He held out his hand.
Carolyn stared at it a moment before shaking it firmly.
Ed nodded his approval. "You'll start when you're well enough to work."
When he left she fell back against the pillows. Closing her eyes, she tried to find sleep but a pair of silver eyes haunted her dreams.
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To be continued...