Cara rushed to Din's side as fast as she possibly could and knelt down beside his prone form. His cape was even more ripped than before and his boots were badly scuffed from the rocks.

Carefully, she gripped his shoulder to roll him onto his back, but stopped when her hand came away bloody.

A close inspection revealed that the hit he'd taken to the back of his shoulder had missed his Beskar and left him with a nasty blaster burn that was starting to bleed, likely due to it being scraped on the way down the mountain.

Cara inhaled deeply to calm herself before gripping his other shoulder to finally get him on his back. He was definitely breathing, for which she was grateful. Without his Beskar, she doubted he would have survived such a tumultuous fall. Cara quickly began checking for any serious injuries, finding numerous scrapes and bruises through the rips in his black flight suit. She couldn't see with all of his armor, but she wouldn't be surprised if his ribs had been bruised or broken during his descent.

As Cara began to scan the rest of her friend for any more external injuries, she noticed his right leg was at an odd angle that looked less than comfortable. Fearing it was broken, she reached to feel for any breaks when a grip as strong as a whip chord suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"Cara," Din breathed, his voice ragged and strained. Cara looked into his black visor, hoping to meet his brown eyes she had seen only once.

"You had quite the fall there, buddy," she remarked lightheartedly in order to calm him as she attempted to inspect his leg again. As soon as she laid her hand on it, Din groaned in pain loudly under his helmet. She quickly removed her hand, feeling guilty.

"Your leg's definitely broken, maybe in more than one place. Is anywhere else hurting significantly?" Cara probed, knowing he could have more injuries that she couldn't see.

Din took a shallow breath before answering, his right hand still maintaining a tight grip on her wrist while his left was tentatively wrapped across his torso. "Ribs," he told her through gritted teeth as a wave of pain shot through his middle. His shoulder also painfully reminded him of the blaster bolt he'd taken between his Beskar. "And shoulder."

Cara nodded, having expected this. "Okay, well we gotta get to our bucket of bolts so we can get out of here. You think you can try walking if I help? You're a bit heavy for me to carry all that way," she asked of him, well knowing that he weighed a significant amount due to his Beskar.

"We can try," Din offered, not sure if he could manage the trip but knowing there weren't any other options. He felt certain that he'd broken at least a couple of ribs on his way down the mountain side, and every time he attempted to shift his leg a wave of unbearable agony ripped through it. He wouldn't be surprised if it was broken in three places.

"Well then, let's get you sitting up first. I'd like to get out of here before dark," Cara said and offered him her hand. He took it and grunted as sitting up jostled his searing ribs. For a moment he gripped her hand and attempted to take a few breaths that didn't cause a considerable amount of pain.

"You good?" Cara asked, concerned, and he nodded. The last thing he wanted to do was stand up and move his right leg, but he knew he didn't have a choice. I've been through worse, he reminded himself as he thought back to the cantina on Nevarro, when he'd been dying from a skull fracture and unable to move as fire engulfed the building. I can limp for a quarter mile.

"Let's get this over with," Din said to Cara. She came around to his back and put his uninjured arm around her shoulder.

"All right, ready?" she asked him, knowing that the action would cause him considerable pain. He grunted in affirmation, and she slowly began to stand up and pull him along with her. He yelped when his right foot touched the ground and carefully lifted it off the grass to avoid putting any pressure on it.

"Good to go?" Cara asked her comrade, who was currently panting heavily from exertion and pain under his helmet. "I think so," he said between breaths. With that, Cara slowly began taking steps, grunting from his weight on her shoulder. He wasn't putting any pressure on his leg whatsoever, rather keeping his foot from even touching the grass. Which caused most of his load to fall onto Cara.

They stumbled on like this for awhile, the only sounds being their grunts and groans. The ship wasn't far, yet their going was slow and painful for Din, so it was almost thirty minutes until they got around the hill Cara had sniped from and arrived at the ship.

By now Cara was heavily sweating from practically carrying a fully armored Din for half an hour, and she could feel him trembling from exhaustion. Luckily, their ship was there waiting for them, with the ramp already down.

With a deep breath, Cara heaved Din higher up onto her shoulder and helped him up the ramp. He was still avoiding letting his right leg even touch the floor, and ever time it did so he let out a grunt of pain. Cara suspected the break was bad; fortunately, Nevarro's infirmary had bone-knitters that were uncomfortable but efficient in healing any breaks quickly. All she had to do was get Din there, and he'd be fine in a week or so.

Finally reaching the cockpit, Cara slowly helped Din sit on the co-pilot's chair, then sat in the pilot's seat and prepared to take off from Tranon.

Except the ship wouldn't do a thing.

"Dank ferrik!" Cara exclaimed in frustration as the ship failed to respond to her commands.

Din's helmeted head rolled to the side tiredly, looking towards the controls. "What is it?"

"I don't know, but this bucket of bolts won't take off," Cara explained as she punched the engine startup for the third time with no results. She even tried hitting random things, such as the lights and the ramp control, but nothing responded. The ex-shock trooper growled in irritation. She didn't want to have carried Din for half an hour only to be stuck here after dark with no way out.

"Maybe that popping sound from when we landed was important," Din suggested, his voice sounding as though he was struggling to stay awake.

"Probably," Cara agreed. "I'm gonna go check the engines, you stay here."

"Can't really move anyway," Din half-heartedly joked, which got him a tired laugh from Cara as she walked out of the ship.

She made her way around the small, rusty freighter towards the ship's engines to look for the culprit, but she found it before she got to them. The ship's small fuel tank was open, and there was green fuel dripping out onto a very large puddle on the ground that was likely the ship's entire fuel supply.

"You sons of mudskuffers..." Cara muttered as she thought of the well-meaning New Republic officers who'd lent them the ship. She was grateful for it, but at least it could have been a little bit more durable so they wouldn't get stranded like this. Plus, the ship was old, so everything in it depended on fuel, including all of its power. The ship was useless, and they had nowhere to go and no way to contact Greef. If Din was up for walking, they could have maybe made a long trek to one of the towns, but they were at the very least ten or fifteen miles away from the nearest one and Cara knew she couldn't carry Din that far.

With a sigh of resignation, Cara stomped back up the ramp and into the cockpit to inform Din of their predicament.

"So that sound we heard was the fuel tank..." Cara stopped her sentence when she realized that Din's helmet was resting against his uninjured shoulder and he was breathing rythmatically, fast asleep. His arms were wrapped protectively around his middle and his right leg was bent at an angle that made Cara grimace. She felt like she should reposition it, but the movement would no doubt be painful and she didn't wish to rouse him. She'd have to scavenge the ship for food, blankets, and supplies since it was clear that they would be stuck here for at least a night or two. Greef knew they were on Tranon, and once he gets word that their transponder is mysteriously turned off due to the shop's loss of power, he'll come looking for them. It was simply a matter of how long it took for him to decide to come after them and how long it took for him to find them out here. Cara was aware that it could be as long as three or four days.

She was exhausted, but she couldn't afford to sleep. Night was already beginning to fall, and she wanted to be prepared for possible temperature drops and hostile fauna. They needed food and water as well, and if possible, some equipment to build a distress beacon or a comm. Since the ship was without power and the ramp wouldn't close, Cara decided it might be wiser to sleep outside. She'd be able to keep watch much easier, and the grass outside was softer than the durasteel floor and upright pilot seats that had a very thin layer of foam for padding.

Decision made, Cara began opening up every nook and cranny of the ship in an attempt to find extra rations and supplies. She and Din had brought their own small ration packs and canteens of water, but they were only meant to last for a few hours. They needed enough for a few days.

After about ten minutes of rummaging through the ship, Cara found two worn blankets, a few soiled bandages, a rusty lantern that by some miracle actually worked, two matches, five very stale looking packs of rations, and a jug of warm water that looked a bit dirty. She wasn't surprised by the items' lack of quality; the ship itself wasn't much better. She could probably find better water at a stream or brook, but as for now she didn't dare leave Din alone at night since she still didn't know if there were any hostile creatures looking for dinner.

Gathering up her findings, she made her way outside the ship and dropped her load into the grass. Darkness had just fallen over the mountains of Tranon, and with it the sky was painted with stars and there were insects singing in the bushes. It was rather peaceful, but the air was slightly chilly and would no doubt get colder as the night went on. As she organized the blankets and turned on the lantern, she thought back to Din slumped over in the co-pilot's chair. Cara knew that he shouldn't be sleeping in such an awkward position, since it was possible that his leg would begin to heal in the wrong way and cause him prolonged problems.

She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes before standing up to get him. She still didn't want to wake him, knowing that he was utterly exhausted and consciousness only meant pain for him, so she decided to attempt to carry him out and lay him on the grass.

She made her way into the cockpit to find Din just as she had left him, still out with his leg lying at a crooked angle. She deduced that the easiest way to carry him would be bridal style, despite the fact that he'd hate her if he ever found out. With a deep breath, she carefully wriggled her arms under his back and lifted, the effort of holding his considerable weight causing her to grunt. To her slight surprise, he remained limp, so as quietly as she could she walked down the ramp with him in her arms, careful to avoid his wounded shoulder. She reached her makeshift campsite and after some thought, rolled one of the blankets under his back so he wouldn't lay on his burned shoulder. Sighing in relief that he remained sound asleep, Cara let the soft breeze and chirping insects lull her into a much-needed sleep.