Red lights flashed and klaxons blared as the girl stumbled from her hiding place behind two huge crates. The floor bucked sickeningly under her feet as the captain's voice suddenly filled the vast metal room, echoing disconcertingly. "All hands to escape pods! This is not a drill. Repeat: all hands to escape pods; this is not a drill."
She stood for a moment, indecisive, as the thought I'm going to die floated across her mind. The ship bucked again, and she fell against the wall. Looking up, she saw the unmistakable crimson sign on the far wall and silently blessed whatever bureaucrat had made extra escape pods mandatory.
She tried to sprint across the room, but the floor was too unsteady and she fell against the edge of a crate. She hissed in pain as the ship listed wildly, sliding her across the room to the wall only a few meters from the pod door. She grimly scrabbled along the wall, praying that emergency override had been enacted as she slammed her fist down on the access button. The bindings on the heavy crates now overhead creaked ominously as the wall opened underneath her and she fell into the pod.
A calm female voice filled the space, tiny in comparison to the vast cargo hold. "Please fasten all restraints and remain seated until safely landed." It then repeated the warning in several other languages, one of which the girl thought might be Bocce. A hysterical laugh bubbled up out of her throat as she struggled to fasten the plethora of straps. The blast doors slid shut, and the girl slumped back against the seat in relief as the wail of the klaxon was blocked out. "Thank you," she said to the air.
She flinched as the cool voice answered. "You are welcome. Now entering ionosphere and engaging retrothrusters." A viewscreen appeared in one wall, displaying an alarmingly large planet surface.
"That doesn't look like Alderaan," she muttered.
"Coordinates at the time of the malfunction indicate that we are now orbiti-" The voice was suddenly cut off to be replaced by the empty hiss of static as the viewscreen flashed painfully bright. An explosion rocked the tiny pod, and debris rained on the outer shell.
The girl blinked, sunbursts filling her vision. "Ow," she said, her voice unnaturally loud. "Uh- computer?" There was no reply, only the continued hiss of static and the pings and clangs of debris. Suddenly, the pod shook under an impact and the viewscreen went black. "I have a bad feeling about this," she said, as the pod shuddered wildly from another impact. Her head pitched forward, striking a control panel hard, and she blacked out.
Several kilometers below on the planet surface, two men in full armor stood watching the space cruiser's demise.
"Impressive," one said. He was tall and square-shouldered, with a deeply tanned complexion and dark hair.
His companion, slightly shorter with a bushy moustache, grunted. "It's scared off all the game for a hundred klicks."
The first speaker shrugged, slipping his helmet back on. "We can go scout the debris field. Might find something interesting."
The other man waved a hand. "You do that. I'll take the speeder back to camp."
"What, and leave me to walk? I don't think so!"
The moustache twitched amusedly. "Well, it was worth a try."
The two men surveyed the wreckage of the ship with interest.
"Very impressive," the first declared. "Better than a holovid." He began picking his way through the ship's remains. "Hey, is that an escape pod? Looks pretty beat up. Wonder if anyone's inside, or if it deployed automatically." He stomped out a small grass fire and made his way over to the pod.
"It's not opening!" he called over his shoulder, stabbing at the melted control panel with one finger.
"Try opening it and messing with the wires," his companion called from the landspeeder.
He did, prodding gingerly at the half-melted mess. It sparked, and he jerked his hand back, swearing, as the blast door slid open. He peered inside and his eyes widened in surprise. "Orade! Bring the speeder! There's a girl in here!"
He cleared a space on the ground and was slicing through the restraints holding her in by the time Orade reached them with the speeder. "Toss me the medpack! I think she broke her nose, and she's pretty beat up."
Searing pain accompanied her return to consciousness. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped in pain, immediately shutting them again. Sunlight was streaming into the pod, stinging her eyes and turning the inside of her eyelids a dull red. She felt something cool on her face, accompanied by the pain, and instinctively lashed out with one hand. Someone caught her wrist and a man's voice said, "Udesii, ad'ika! Ni kebbu gaa'taylir."
"Wha?" she croaked, opening her eyes a slit.
A man's face swam into focus. He was tanned and clean-shaven, with golden-brown eyes and dark hair, and, she noticed with surprise, was wearing a full set of emerald green body armor. "Basic?" he asked. She nodded. "Your ship crashed," he continued. "I think your nose broken. Be still and I fix it."
His accent was strong but not unpleasant, and she was grateful for the fact that he did speak Basic. She didn't think she was in any condition to think hard enough to communicate otherwise. When he dabbed at her face this time, washing away the dried blood to see what her injuries actually were, she gritted her teeth and let him, hissing when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. When he had finished, he applied something cool and white to her swollen nose. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief.
"Better?" he asked. "Good. Your nose probably broken, but only shallow cuts on your head. You have a big headache, but not a concussion. Can you move?"
She opened her eyes and shrugged, croaking, "I can try." Her throat was so dry… "Water, please?"
He held a canteen to her mouth, but she struggled upright and took it from him, drinking deeply. He nodded approvingly. "Can you stand? I have speeder."
She finished drinking and licked her lips. "I can try." He extended a calloused hand and she took it, levering herself carefully out of the pod. Her feet hit the scorched earth, jarring her aching head, and her knees bucked. She clutched at his arm, steadying herself. "Ow," she said weakly. He grasped her elbow, helping to support her, and she took her first real look around.
The piece of planet she had crashed on was a seemingly endless rolling plain, broken only by bits of hull and smashed or melted crates and a landspeeder with another man in the pilot's seat. His armor was a deep red. Smudges far on the horizon might have been trees, or possibly mountains. She couldn't tell. She suddenly realized that her rescuer had said something.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You stand; can you walk?" he repeated.
"Um, maybe." She took an experimental step. It produced no immediate ill effects, so she took another, and another. He moved smoothly alongside her, kicking debris out of her path and finally helping her to lie down in the back seat of the speeder.
"Better?" he asked, smiling.
"Yes," she said, leaning her head back.
"Good. You sleep; we take you to a real medic," he said with a slightly self-deprecating grin.
"Oh, I don't know about that. You did a pretty good job on me." She smiled. A pleasant numbness was spreading over her face, and she decided that she was rather enjoying being drugged right now. "One thing," she said, struggling to keep her eyes open. "I'm Zace."
"Zah-say?" he said. She nodded. He touched his chest. "Davrel."
She nodded again in acknowledgement, smiling woozily, then closed her eyes and surrendered to unconsciousness.