Note: I came up with the idea of this story when I decided to do a run through the game as Ziggy Stardust. I came up with the character Iggy along the way and the plot sort of fell together around him. This won't be an incredibly long work, but I do hope you all enjoy it and I look forward to any feedback you may have.

Crash Landing

A lone saucer-shaped craft soared through the vacuum of space. The starship was painted a bright shade of crimson.

Inside this metal disk sat a solitary starman. On all sides, he was surrounded by glittering buttons, flashing monitors, and neon dashboards. He kicked his feet up on the desk that circled around the interior of the ship. He was tall, unhealthily thin, and his skin was abnormally pale.

The alien's tall platform boots matched his electric red hair. His belt was of the same color. Red lipstick, matching eye shadow, blush, and dark eyeliner decorated his pale face. His cobalt jumpsuit was extremely tight. To top it all off, he wore an enigmatic, triangular vest which came to a point past either of his shoulders.

It was a particularly unique shade of red that he always incorporated into his outfits. It could be seen only in his clothes and makeup. At least, that was what the fashion designers with a worrying lack of confidence told him when the alien commissioned the creation of a brand new color that was, of course, named after him.

In his hands was a red and white electric guitar which was plugged into one of the many amps that decorated the ship. He casually played random notes. It was a right-handed guitar, yet he played it left hand. His eyes were locked on the instrument in his lap. He leaned back in his chair next to his radio and only partially listened to the voice coming from the speakers.

"Ground Control to Iggy. Can you still hear me?"

Abruptly, the alien did not speak but replied with a rather loud strut of his cords. There was an audible sigh on the other end of the radio.

"I'll take that as a yes… Now, as I was saying, would you rather have us wait and let you address the press in person or can I release a statement," the voice inquired. It was a male's voice who spoke loudly over the radio.

The starman's grin grew. He did not stop playing nor did he takes his eyes off of his guitar, but he did slow down his rhythm ever so slightly.

"No, you can say something to 'em."

"What do you want us to say?"

Iggy averted his eyes to the ceiling in contemplation yet his amused smile never wavered. "Tell 'em that it's preposterous," he finally replied. "Of course, I don't have a shrine to that woman in my closet, but that's not to say she doesn't have a shrine of me in hers."

"I'll write that down and send it off. Anyway, do you think you'll make it to the concert on time? I should remind you that it's been sold out for months. The Supreme Leader himself is going to be there. This tour has been legendary, spanning multiple galaxies. You can imagine the headlines when the news dropped that you would be traveling alone and taking a long detour into unknown space. Have any statement you want us to release on that?"

Iggy snickered at the questions. He sniffled a bit as he thought of something to say.

"I'll be there on time and of course, it will be the best show the civilized universe has ever seen. I've never missed a show and I never will. I took this route because I need some time to myself. I have something special in mind for this final show of the tour. As for our Supreme Leader, tell him that the wait will be worth even his time."

"If you say so. Is there anything else you need before I sign off."

"Not at all," Iggy halfheartedly replied. "Peace and love, man. Peace and love."

After laying out a thin line of white powder, Iggy lowered his head to the desk and snorted it. He swiftly leaned back in his seat upon practically inhaling this powder and let out a relieved sigh. Iggy picked up his guitar and prepared to resume his session when one of the lights across the ship caught his attention.

Aside from his bed and the hatch, the ship was lined with glistening neon consoles. There were thousands of little buttons and screens to fiddle with and each of them had a distinct glow. However, none of them glowed red. That was by design. Naturally, when one of the buttons started flashing this dangerous color, it immediately caught Iggy's attention.

He placed his hands on the desk and pushed himself out of his chair. Iggy's right palm accidentally landed on a switch labeled "GRAVITY ON/OFF." Immediately, he felt his body become weightless as he clumsily floated upward and hit his head against the top of the ship.

"Ow," he whined. "Ugh! Iggy to Ground Control," he called out.

After some audible groaning on the other side of the radio, Iggy heard a response.

"Ground Control to Iggy. What seems to be the problem now?"

"One of my lights is flashing red," Iggy explained as he practically swam through thin air to get to it. "What does it mean? I'm not going to die am I?"

"Well, red normally doesn't mean anything good but it usually isn't that urgent if it's just one light. Of course, that's gonna depend on the light. Which one is flashing?"

Iggy read over the label and his eyes quickly widened. "The code is 4722/B. Isn't that just an indication that I'm being affected by a source of gravity? I know I'm flying over a massive planet right now."

"No," Ground Control flatly stated. "The light to directly to your left will indicate that and even then it will only flash orange."

Iggy glanced over to the light in question to find that it was indeed flashing orange and a totally different entity to the one he was looking at. His brief glimmer of relief was instantly squashed.

"Iggy," the radioman asked as if he were a nagging mother. "Did you change out your old reactor like I told you to do?"

The starman nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh… You mean nobody did that for me already? I bought the spare. It should be around here somewhere..."

"Oh, my… Listen, that light signals a power failure! You're probably not going to be able to escape that planet's pull. I need you to sit down, fasten your seat belt, and tell me exactly where you are."

"You mean I'm gonna crash!? You ain't jiving are you?"

"Iggy, I've never jived in my life! Stay calm and give me your location. I'll send someone to come pick you up."

The alien superstar nodded his head. In a panic, he fluttered his way back across the ship and toward a small monitor next to his bed. He fiddled with the knobs beneath it until the screen switched on.

Unfortunately, the only image to appear on screen was nothing more than gray static. Iggy slammed his fist against the console which caused him to unintentionally push himself upward. He once again bumped his head against the ceiling.

"Damn, it isn't working!"

"You mean you didn't even replace your guidance system before you left!?"

Iggy gave the radio a harsh glare. "I'm not a mechanic! I don't know how to do any of that complicated shit! I could easily just pay somebody to do that!"

"Well, did you!?"

Iggy hesitated for a moment. He finally dropped his head like a guilty child. "...No."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the radio. Instead of waiting for further instructions, Iggy grabbed a remote which was floating next to him. He pointed it forward and pressed a red button on the top of the device.

A slim metal door slid open on the opposite wall revealing a large monitor. The screen switched on only to reveal the image of a massive blue planet. He could clearly see cloud formations which usually meant two things; running water and a functioning atmosphere.

"Ground Control to Iggy. You still alive?"

"Of course I am," Iggy snapped.

"The planet. Is it a gas giant? Can you tell from where you are?"

"Seems to be habitable," Iggy explained nervously. "I see clouds and shit. Like regular clouds. I think I can see landmasses down there as well."

"That's a good start," the radioman announced. "All right, here's the plan. Try not to land in the middle of the ocean. Don't die on impact. When you land, don't leave the ship. Stay put because god only knows what's down there. We're gonna try and pinpoint your general area from this end. How much food and water do you have?"

Iggy thought for a moment. He placed his index finger against his chin in contemplation. It did not take him long to remember.

"Oh! Like none."

Yet another long sigh could be heard from the other end of the radio. "Don't tell me you... Even without the threat of crashing, you weren't expected to arrive in the Yorp System for another ten light years! Did you eat all of it already!? How much did you leave with?"

"I didn't pack any, man."

"What!?"

"I had to make room for the cocaine," Iggy admitted.

Iggy heard a thud from the other end of the radio. It sounded as if someone had just slammed their forehead against their desk.

Iggy turned back to face the monitor only to realize that he was inching ever so closer to that planet. The speed of the ship was beginning to pick up. It was hard to believe that one failed reactor was all it took for his ship to go kaput.

"I don't get it," Iggy complained as he accidentally turned himself upside down. "Even with a dead reactor, wouldn't I just be propelled forward."

"That's gonna depend on how far you are from the planet," Ground Control explained. "The reactor is kinda crucial because it keeps a hell of a lot of things running on your ship. Without it, yeah… not looking good. That's exactly why you need to fasten your seat belt and start praying because it's not looking good right now."

Without seeing a better option, Iggy complied with the man's advice. He floated over to his chair, and after wrestling with the lack of gravity in the ship, he managed to turn himself upright. He then promptly pulled himself into the chair and strapped himself into place.

He watched the screen even as his ship steadily increased its speed. Iggy closed his eyes out of fear. He heard the radioman speak up one more time after that. Unfortunately, it was not the most calming thing to hear.

"Ground Control to Iggy... Ground Control to Iggy... I hope you've got your helmet on. I know I said to stay on the ship, but given your situation, that's probably not going to help. There's no telling when a rescue party will find you. If you can replace the reactor, provided you still have that spare and are able to repair any damages you suffer on impact, you might make it out of there on your own."

The ship soon started rattling as it fell straight through the atmosphere. All the while, Iggy was left wondering how things could have gone so wrong so quickly. He was likely to miss his show, because of this nonsense. The most important thing on his mind at that point was who to blame for this mess which could in no way, shape, or form, be his fault.

Iggy was still clinging to his chair long after the ship had landed. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. He mustered the courage to open his eyes and looked around. The ship was positively wrecked.

His guitar was somehow hanging from the ceiling. Luckily, it and a couple of the amps did survive the ordeal. Sparks flew from a nearby console. The large monitor that once gave him a clear view of the outside was now revealing nothing but white noise and static.

"Iggy to Ground Control," the alien muttered in a daze.

He was not given a response.

"Iggy to Ground Control," he called out once more in a louder tone.

Yet again, he was ignored. Iggy unbuckled himself from the pilot's chair and turned to the radio behind him. Surely enough, it was smoking and the occasional spark could be seen flying out of the speakers. He smacked the radio in a pathetic attempt to force the device to work, but he only succeeded in hurting his hand.

He hissed in frustration as he stroked his left hand with his right until the stinging subsided. Iggy went around to all of the monitors and controls to see if anything was working at all. Parts of the ship were and others were not. To his luck, he was still able to operate the hatch.

Iggy hesitated for a moment. He recalled Ground Control's warning about leaving the safety of the ship. Despite that, however, his curiosity did get the better of him. He knew he could always just run back inside and close the hatch. What could possibly go wrong?

Iggy crossed his fingers in anticipation. "Here's hoping the atmosphere isn't made entirely of methane!"

He entered a code into a panel on the wall which caused the hatch to open up all on its own. The door rested on the ground, acting as a makeshift ramp for Iggy to step foot outside. He was immediately assaulted by a gust of cold air. Iggy quickly crossed his arms and started shivering in response to the drop in temperature.

The starman flinched at the sudden flood of sunlight. He swiftly pulled out a pair of rather flamboyant gold sunglasses from a nearby drawer and put them on. Only then was he able to get a proper look at his surroundings. He gasped when he realized that he managed to land on the side of a mountain. Not the most ideal place he would have picked, but it was far better than a large body of water.

"Woah, man. Outta sight!"

Iggy became awestruck by the landscape. He was surrounded by mountains, snow, and towering pine trees. He breathed in and out slowly only to be greeted by a livable atmosphere.

"Well, ain't that wonderful? I'm not dead yet," Iggy announced with excitement. "It would really suck if I were to say… contract some horrible native virus that causes my skin to melt or something like that. Hmm, I hope I didn't jinx myself, there."

Iggy cautiously wandered outside and immediately looked back to survey the damage to the outside of his ship. As he expected, it was not in the best of conditions. He let out a horrified shriek at the sight of it.

There was not a single square inch of the hull that was not scratched, dented, or even cracked. While the interior was mostly manageable, the exterior was completely wrecked. Iggy placed his hands over his cheeks as he took in the horror before him.

The ship was half buried underneath a mound of snow. Only by pure luck was able to land on a flat area of land which, at the very least, prevented his ship from sliding down the side of the mountain and taking further damage.

"It's a god-awful small affair," Iggy told himself. "And I just bought it!"

The abrupt sound of distant shouting naturally caught Iggy off guard. It sounded like someone shouting, yet it was abnormally loud. At the same time, he could have sworn he felt the ground beneath him shake. He twirled around, as if performing a dance number, and approached the nearby ledge.

"That didn't sound fabulous at all," he whispered nervously.

Iggy cautiously peered downward. Despite the fog and snow, he eventually managed to see what all the fuss was about. He saw indigenous life not but a short distance beneath him. They looked extremely similar to him, which intrigued him greatly. They appeared to be fighting each other with swords, axes, and other similar weapons.

"Oh, man," Iggy muttered. "Look at those cavemen go. Wonder what those cats are fighting about."

He watched them curiously for a moment. The majority of them wore the same brown and red uniforms, whereas a small, unfortunate cluster of men in blue cloaks fended off their attackers. They wore downright medieval armor that matched their barbaric weaponry.

Suddenly, a metaphorical light bulb lit up above Iggy's head. He snapped his fingers in realization. He was then left wondering why he had not come to realize it sooner.

"Oh! They must be taking part in," Iggy began before assuming air quotes. "Historic reenactment. Pretty convincing display, but where's the audience? Are they just practicing?"

Suddenly, one of the natives plunged his sword downward and lopped off the head of another man. Iggy's eyes widened at the sight of blood spewing everywhere. He promptly gave the "performers" a nod of approval.

"Groovy! The effects are convincing too," Iggy thought to himself. "Almost had me thinking that cat really lost his head! Good acting all around. They're so absorbed into the performance that they didn't even seem to notice my landing. Wish the band was this dedicated."

Iggy quickly became interested in how this would turn out. He took a seat and allowed his legs to swing freely over the ledge. He reached into one of the pockets of his pants and pulled out a small bag of white powder. With his eyes glued to the battle below, he opened the plastic bag and carefully lowered the opening over his right index finger. He allowed the powder to sprinkle out in a straight line along his appendage. The alien then promptly ducked down and snorted it.

He tucked the rest of the powder away and continued watching the brawl down below. He sniveled a bit but mostly kept quiet as he did not want to draw attention to himself. Fawning fans begging for autographs were never a group he liked to run into without his band backing him up.

After a few minutes had passed, it looked as though things were wrapping up down below. The men in the blue uniforms, what were left of them, held their hands up in surrender. One of the gentlemen was either a really good actor, or he genuinely was knocked unconscious and laid face-down in the snow. That particular man was not wearing either of the two uniforms and appeared to be dressed in clothing made entirely out of burlap sacks.

There was one other person who did not seem to be on either side of this fight. A scrawnier man who attempted to retreat on horseback, but failed to actually get on the animal in order to ride off. He was promptly tackled to the ground by one of the men in red which did cause Iggy to let out a sadistic giggle.

"Aw, man," Iggy complained with an amused smile. "I was really rooting for those hunky boys in blue. Gotta love the underdogs."

The rock star from beyond the stars stood up and let out a long sigh. He turned back toward the ship, but as he took his first step forward, Iggy slipped and lost his balance. Before he knew it, he was tumbling down the slope of the mountain and landed flat on his back in a mound of snow.

He laid there for a moment, not quite sure what happened or even where he had landed. However, when one of those strange natives wearing a red uniform approached and stepped into his peripherals, and stared down at him with a bemused look. It was a rugged gentleman, musclebound and giving a hardened stare. A total contradiction from the makeup and glitter adorning that scrawny little alien.

Iggy quickly sat up when another man approached from the opposite side. The two quietly stared down at him, giving him death stares. He let off a nervous laugh in a hopeless attempt to fight back against the awkward and oppressive silence.

"Who's idea was it to make icy slippery, anyway? Am I right?"

He heard no response. Their expressions remained unchanged.

Iggy awkwardly stood up and began stroking his locks to clear out the snow and hopefully, reorganize his oddly specific hairstyle. It always proved a difficult task when there was no mirror present, but Iggy managed.

"So, you cats out here doing a nice little reenactment? I was watching from up that way," he proclaimed as he turned and pointed to the ledge directly overhead.

By this time, the natives in blue were already bound and being loaded into nearby carriages. Even after such a fight, no one could help but stare at this makeup-clad stranger. His mannerisms and fashion sense both drew the attention of everyone nearby. Of course, this did not bother Iggy. He was used to being the center of attention. In fact, he would normally consider it odd if all eyes were not on him at every waking moment.

"That was a great show, and I'm sure you're all just dying to know why I, the famous Iggy, has decided to grace your primitive world with my presence," Iggy explained as he continued to fix up his hair. "Well, it wasn't exactly planned. I have to be totally honest. My ship has crashed and I am in need of assistance!"

Iggy turned to the man on his left and placed his hands on his hips in an almost pompous manner. "You there, go fetch me your planet's best engineers at once!"

He then twirled around to face the man standing to his right. "And you! Take me to your leader! Also, do keep in mind that I have a show to attend so get a move on! Chop, chop!"

There was a brief moment of hesitation. Iggy snapped his fingers rapidly to express his impatience with the two natives.

"Are you deaf!? No comprende!? I told you to..."

Iggy was cut off when the man on his left abruptly grabbed both of his wrists. He then twisted Iggy's arms behind his back and started tying them together.

"Hey," Iggy exclaimed. "Don't touch me, you crazed groupies! Do you have any idea who I am!?"

"Enough," one of the men interjected with an authoritative tone. "You're being apprehended as a suspected Stormcloak."

Iggy suddenly stopped struggling and met the man's gaze with a surprised expression. He then let out a nervous laugh after deciding that such a situation clearly required the sort of grace and charm he was known for back home.

"Oh, so we do speak the same language. What a coincidence! Look, you cats don't have to go through all this trouble. If you really want a couple autographs, then I suppose I can do you all the honor just this once. All I ask is that we keep this hush, hush from the press. You dig?"

"I said be quiet," the native ordered.

"You hear that, stranger," a man called out from afar.

Iggy's eyes wandered in the direction of the voice. Among the group of blue-clad men stood one native with a distinct outfit. He wore a fur coat and had dark blond hair which was just as long as Iggy's although not nearly as glamorous.

While his hands had already been tied around his back, he wrestled with one of the men in red who desperately attempted to wrap a piece of cloth around his mouth.

"They care not for your misfortune! They care not if you truly are a rebel! The Imperial swine is only out for the blood of..."

The knight managed to mute the man before he could finish that thought. Iggy met the man's gaze just before he was turned around and hauled into one of the carriages.

The alien resumed his struggling but his attempts to squirm his way to freedom were quickly thwarted when he felt a sharp, metallic object press against his stomach. He looked down only to find a sword pointed at him. Only then did he realize that it was not fake. He suddenly became very still, very quickly.

Iggy looked to the ground where that decapitated man still laid. The blood did not exactly look fake and neither did his severed head. Finally, it clicked with Iggy. The alien came to a harsh realization and let out a horrified gasp.

"Wait a minute! You guys aren't BDSM loving groupies and those corpses aren't roleplay props," Iggy practically screamed.

"This ain't Rock 'n' Roll! This is genocide!"