Chapter One: To Trudge
The Hunter Gratzner. A merchant vessel transporting commercial passengers and goods to the Tangier system. A freighter preparing for an eleven month long run. To the crew this ship is a place to work and to live, to others it is just transport to a new life. When looking at the tickets in their hands, some read the letters specifying the destination at the end of the run, but not everyone.
Others stare at the numbers until they were burnt into their minds. The departure time. The time of escape to those who are oh-so-ready to run. To those who are oh-so-good at it, too.
A girl with vibrant red hair sat against some cargo before the ship, this Hunter Gratzner, taking in the blocky structure, the decaled letters, the beauty of her escape, before turning back to her ticket. To the numbers. To the time of departure. So soon, but maybe not soon enough if they don't get the passengers into the damn ship.
Half an hour to departure and none of the passengers had been loaded. Under normal circumstances passengers are loaded several hours before departure time, but Captain Mitchell had explained to the forming crowd that 'special cargo' had to be taken into account.
She waited some more, staring at her ticket.
She stood from her makeshift chair- several crates containing birds of the poultry variety- as the crew started ushering the herd toward their cryo-slumber. She dove into the crowd roughly, all elbows and feet stomping to get a cryo-chamber near the front, and stared at her ticket once more before handing it over to the designated hands.
Strapped into her locker she looked at the numbers displayed on the glass before her. The world clock. In 35 minutes they will be irritated that she's late. In 45 minutes they will worry about her whereabouts. In one beautiful hour they will realize that she jumped planet, but they won't have any idea where to begin looking for her. Perfect. Freedom, finally.
She gladly slipped into the dreamless cryogenic slumber.
Red. Black. White. Red. Black. White. Red. Black.
Flashing lights outside of her cryo-locker. And turbulence. In space?
'What the fuck?' She began to blink her drowsiness away, pressing her hands against the cold metal of the door. She read the stats displayed on the glass. CHRONO: +22 WEEKS FROM DEPARTURE DATE. WAKING PASSENGER: KIERA GLASGOW. EMERGENCY. Her cryo-locker jerked harshly to the side, and her head whipped backwards, hard against her headrest. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with the shaking of the ship.
Then there was light and heat. Kiera covered her head as her weight seemed to shift every which way. Fear enveloped her. 'What the fuck is happening!?' She was rolling! Her entire locker was rolling! 'What the fuck is going on!?'
Blackness.
Creaking. Like strained metal.
Kiera woke to her locker slowly tipping from its upside down position. The cryo-chamber crashed onto its side and her head began to throb. 'How long was I upside down?'
She felt for the buckle and pressed the release, falling heavily onto her side, and landing painfully on her arm. Light spilled in from the bottom window, but Kiera lay very still assessing the damage to her person. She knew what adrenaline did to people in crashes and she wasn't going to injure herself more than necessary. Or at all, preferably.
Kiera's knee was in pain and so was her corresponding elbow, but they hurt worse than they were actually damaged. She could still think clearly, so no damage to the head. Maybe. She gently felt at her neck before gingerly moving her torso. Kiera sagged in relief; no broken spine or neck. Kinda thirsty, though.
Now, to see the damage outside of the locker.
Somehow managing to swivel in the cramped space, so she could look out of the bottom half of the door to her locker, she saw blue sand. Blue? And fuck was it bright out there. 'Where did the ship go?'
There were several missing chunks of glass from the door and she could still breath, though it was a bit difficult, so there must be some sort of breathable atmosphere on this planet. Hopefully every lungful wasn't poisoning her. Wait. 'We crashed. Onto a desert planet.' Kiera finally realized the situation, caught up with her instincts.
"Damn," she cursed numbly. "Guess that explains why I'm so fuckin' thirsty." Then she moved on.
Her cryo-locker wasn't in the front of the passenger cabin, so if she had survived there must be others. There had to be. Time to find them.
Kiera kicked unenthusiastically at the door release lever, not expecting it to work, but hoping anyway. She did just roll out of a spaceship that had crash landed on some fucking desert planet. However, finally a pleasant surprise! The door fell off the locker with the sound of cracking glass and she pulled herself out clumsily. She had a feeling that the door opening had more to do with her kicks jolting the locker than the lever releasing the… hinges.
Removing her sweater and tying it around her waist she observed her surroundings. Everything around her had a decidedly blue tinge to it. Her hair even looked purple. Was it the atmosphere? High in the sky the sun harshly shone down on the planet. Midday, then.
Far into the distance, littered around a deep and wide furrow in the sand, were several other cryo-chambers, pieces of cryo-chambers, various pieces of hull, and machinery; some still spewing lazy curls of smoke. Kiera carefully kept anything resembling a body in her peripheral vision. Ahead lay a seemingly intact piece of the ship burrowed partway into the ground and beyond that the torn up front section of the Hunter Gratzner. Or, at least, what she thought was the Hunter Gratzner.
Kiera looked at the ship forlornly and began to trudge toward it. There was no hope of piecing that back together. All she could see of it was shredded metal and tubes. If the ship had been an organism, it would resemble 'just been mauled by something with large claws.' Which was too bad, as that look went out of style ages ago.
Feet stopped moving on the sand as Kiera paused to question her sanity, placing her hand gently against her forhead. "I must have hit my head harder than I thought."
Kiera wearily sighed and continued limping through the heat toward what she hoped was survival. And maybe something to drink.
'Escape one hell only to enter the next level of it,' she grumbled to herself. I suddenly undertand 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire' with-' There was an umbrella set up ontop of the crash ship.
Ignoring the pain in her leg and lungs she sprinted for the survivors. She lengthened her strides, covering ground quickly. As she got closer she could see a man sitting down in a chair under the umbrella. Relief flowed through her even as she strained herself to reach that umbrella and what she could now make out as a man. Until she heard the gunshots.
Kiera stumbled to a stop, gasping for air and trying to wet her mouth. She continued forward at a jog, giving herself time to think.
Maybe they were having target practice. Who knows how long I've been out, they could be suffering from extreme boredom. The man sitting under the useless umbrella doesn't seem to be startled... Maybe I should call out just to be safe. I'd hate to startle someone and get shot.
A/N: Hello readers! Thank you very much for taking time out of your very busy fanfiction and real life schedules to read this story of mine! I'd love to hear your opinion on this lovely first chapter of mine. Harsh criticism is welcome, anything to help improve my writing.
I'd like to make note that Kiera is pronounced KEER-ah, just like Kyra in the third Chronicles of Riddick installment. The name was accidental and at this point in time I do not plan on making Kiera a role model that Jack would except. Jack looks for a father-figure anyway, so beyond friendlyness I'm not planning on having Jack name herself Kyra in homage to Kiera or anything (whoa, that would be confusing not written on a page). Not to worry, Kiera shall not be a Mary-Sue. Or I would have named her as such. :)