TWO
Embedded into the thick wall of an over hanging slope was a lone escape pod that had plummeted severely off course after the dreadful explosion rocked the skies above the violent world of Belsavis. Cold air filtered through the thin, expanding cracks on the windshield. The sudden flush of brisk morning air awoke the single occupant, who bursted awake in sheer terror. Pale hands clawing at the confining space, he desperately craved freedom, but it did not find him.
"Carth," a familiar voice called. "Carth, hang on!"
The young man eagerly rubbed his fuzzy brown eyes, before his now cleared vision laid a windshield thats fog was slowly fading. Taking a calm breath, Carth swiftly stroked the sleeve of his arm to and fro on the window, until the condensation had dissipated entirely. Just outside, a single hand pressed firmly against the glass, was Jon, easily Carth's best friend aboard the Nerf Herder. He smiled, pleased to know Jon had survived.
"Oh, no," Jon gasped. His eyes fixated on Carth's lower half.
Confused, Carth followed the trail and stopped just at his legs, staring in awe at the grotesque picture; a shard of ice had punctured through the back of the pod, piercing Carth's left thigh. The young man's face twisted into a pale, nauseated expression of fear and disgust. A pool of blood had amassed beneath his boots, and yet he was so cold. Carth had felt nothing.
A massive scream echoed through the pod, traveling through the winds of the barren world. Carth fell into a panic, desperately pulling away from the wound, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Enough," Jon demanded. "Look at me. Carth. Look- At- Me."
Jon slammed his palm on the window, hard. Carth stopped, his chest heaving. He carefully shifted his gaze, slowly moving his glance away from the wound, up toward Jon's still eyes.
"Don't move. I'm going to get you out," Jon stated.
Jon leaned away from the pod, his other hand tightly grasping the rappelling cord that wrapped around his waist, and up into the hooks he had lodged along the slope's wall. When Jon released a slow, heavy breath, it was so cold Carth could see it. With his free hand, Jon tugged at the clasped pickaxe around his belt. After it finally snapped free, Jon prepared to swing the axe at the pod's sealed hatch.
"Cover your eyes," Jon said.
"But you said don't move," Carth argued.
Jon looked at the injured man dismissively.
"Just do it."
Carth obliged and braced himself, protecting his eyes. Jon swung the axe, striking it into a weakened corner of the pod's lock. Metal creaked and cried as Jon violently yanked at the pod's latch, his muscle tensing through his shirt. Jon tilted his head back and yelled into the sky as he forced the door open. It was a success! The latch shattered, but Jon lost his grip on the axe and sent it careening off into the snow.
The pod's door hissed open, barely opening its mouth wide enough to allow Jon easier access to Carth. So Jon helped it along, using his free hand to elevate the door further, until it could be opened no further, snow dribbling down the sides of the pod as Jon disturbed the resting blanket.
Jon leaned inside the pod, wrapping his arm around Carth's abdomen.
"Hold on to me," Jon ordered.
Carth simply nodded in confirmation, wrapping his arms around Jon's neck. His muscles tensed as Jon's breath tickled its way down Carth's back. It was awkwardly comforting. Carth blushed and shielded his face from Jon's view.
"This is going to hurt alot," Jon warned.
Before Carth could even completely grasp Jon's wisdom, the man had yanked Carth off and away from the ice that had broken itself through Carth's leg. He howled in agony as blood streamed down the open wound. Carth bit his lower lip until he suddenly drew blood, and stopped, scolding himself. It's not like he had the blood to waste.
With Carth's grasp as tight as ever, Jon rappelled down the rope. Fortunately it was only a short distance from the ground. The man's thick boots struck the ground and sank several inches into the snow. Jon sat Carth down on a pile of snow and dug into the backpack that had carefully been laid down before the human started his ascent up the slope.
"Thank you," Carth said.
"Don't thank me yet," Jon replied. "We ain't out of this yet."
Jon winked at Carth and returned to the large pack, rummaging through it for select goods.
"It's so cold," Carth said between shivers.
"It only gets colder after nightfall."
Jon silently congratulated himself and pulled out a large coat, furry around the collar, midnight black in color. Jon smiled warmly and handed it to the wounded man. Carth gently smiled and took the coat from Jon's grasp. He pulled the jacket around him and with Jon's help fastened the buttons.
Jon dug into his own jacket and removed two pairs of gloves.
"You'll need these too."
Carth caught the tossed pair and slid them on over his frozen, soaked hands. Carth's eyes trailed up the slope to the wrecked pod, and then looked back at Jon.
"How long was I up there?"
"A day and a half," Jon answered. "Took a while to find you."
"Jeez," Carth muttered.
"Yeah."
Jon strolled over to Carth after digging out the sled that had been buried beneath the snowfall. It looked as though Jon had used it to stock his equipment on as he made the trek to Carth's location. Now, though, it was going to be Carth's ride. Jon knelt over and picked Carth up. He carefully laid the wounded man on the sled, propping his legs up on top of the pack that he had settled on the sled.
Jon swung the sled's ropes over both his shoulders and began pulling it through the thick blanket of snow. Carth sat there uncomfortably, he felt absolutely useless as Jon tugged him along like a wounded animal that was to be a meal. Carth paused. after frightening himself; was he going to become a meal? Exactly at what point was cannibalism acceptable to survive? Carth shook his head, erasing the line of thought from his mind.
Carth laid his head back and watched the swirling clouds in the sky as the sun peaked, and then slowly began its descent. His roaring stomach returned Carth to the present and he lifted his head.
"I'm so hungry," Carth said.
"Almost there," Jon stated, nodding his head toward a camp site.
Carth looked ahead eagerly, a fire was burning, smoke rising into the sky, noting the site's position in the dwindling sunlight. Carth sighed, he was relieved. He might actually be able to find a moment's peace among all the bad that had befallen this crew.
When Carth and Jon arrived at the camp site, the two human men were greeted by other members of the bridge. Most notably; Kirk, the male bothan; Uhura, the young, dark skinned human; Janeway, the lady cathar. But that was all, apparently no one else had survived.
"Welcome to our humble abode," Kirk greeted.
The group had apparently set up camp far away from any escape pods, as none were in seeing distance. The surviving crew all huddled close to the fire as Jon pulled Carth toward the warm glow of the flames. Roasting above the fire were several slabs of bantha meat, cooking finely, Carth thought. The smell was mesmerizing, calling to Carth's aching belly.
Carth looked around at the crew, and then finally at Jon, who shook his head in silent confirmation; they were all that was left.
Another inspection of the group revealed that the bantha's meat had not been its only viable resource; its bones had been shaped into Carth's very sled, while its fur had been fashioned into blankets, or rather fur coats for the crew. While it looked positively absurd, its what would keep them all alive.
Kirk, being the chief medical officer aboard the Nerf Herder, stood and wobbled over toward Carth. The bothan diligently inspected Carth's gaping wound, tenderly turning his thigh over. Confident in his diagnosis, Kirk patted Carth on the shoulder and quietly joined Jon's opposite side at the fire.
"If I'm to treat that, we'll require medical supplies from the Herder," Kirk whispered.
Jon sighed. "Can he make that trip?"
Kirk shrugged. "We either try, or he'll die."
Jon's mouth sunk into a frown as he watched Carth happily accept a slab of the bantha meat, eagerly chomping away at the fat. The fire cracked and snapped as Janeway passed around the meat to each of the crew, preserving any remaining pieces in a lone bag. The crew would need to ration their meals if they hoped to survive. Taking down a lone bantha had no doubt been task enough. But it could have been days before they would set their sights on another herd.
The crew silently ate their meal around the camp fire as a full moon rose into the clear skies above Belsavis. Just as they were wrapping up dinner, a spine tingling howl stretched across the flat lands that surrounded them. Kirk nearly choked on his meat out of fear as the hairs along his spine stood up.
"Wampas," Uhura said, hopping to her feet like a predator.
"Wampas, here?" Carth said between mouthfuls.
Jon shrugged as he got to his feet and prepared to sling the sled's rope over his shoulders again. But Kirk stepped in, gesturing his hand.
"I'll do that," the bothan said. "You need some rest."
"What's going on?" Carth asked as Jon took a handful of snow and smothered the fire.
"We walk at night, sleep during the day," Janeway explained.
"But you haven't slept at all," Carth said to Jon.
Jon just shrugged. "Always on the move."
Throwing their personal packs over their shoulders, Janeway packed up the last of the food and slung an additional bag over her arm. Together, the crew trekked through the snow, following Jon's specific instructions. He would be leading them to the Nerf Herder.
"Won't whoever shot us down look there first?" Carth asked, peering over his shoulder at Jon. Kirk was pulling Carth so that the wounded man was facing away from the group, watching their rear.
"We have to take that risk," Jon answered. "We need supplies, food."
"Aren't there any bases here?" Carth wondered.
"This world is barren," Uhura said. "There are no settlements here. We're on our own."
Carth slumped his shoulders in defeat. They were all going to die.
The injured man twiddled his thumbs as he was pulled along, Uhura had taken a turn now. Carth absent mindedly played with the pieces of hair from the fur blanket that had been laid over him. He rose his head as his eyes saw lumps of snow moving toward them. Carth assumed it may have been blood loss, but he was assured that the cold would slow that down.
The lumps of snow grew massive, and were charging. Carth felt his heart leap into his throat as he choked out a warning.
"What is that?!" Carth cried, pulling at Uhura's arm.
The survivors stopped and looked back just as the furry lumps rose high into the air, eyes glistening in the darkness.
"Wampas!" Kirk shouted.
The survivors panicked, scrambling toward the shattered remains of the Nerf Herder.
"We're almost there!" Jon yelled.
Carth was crying as he threw chunks of rock and snow at the rampaging, starving beasts. They leapt at him with their massive claws, the scent of blood hanging in the air. Carth knew they were following them because of him. He grasped at the cloth covering his chest as one of the wampa's nails scrapped across the bones that made up the sled.
Janeway tripped in the snow, tears streaming down her face as Kirk rushed to her aide, pulling at her to get up. Begging for the young woman to hurry. During the fall Janeway's bag had caught onto a fallen piece of debris from the Nerf Herder. She violently shoved Kirk away, demanding that he save himself.
Reluctantly the survivors left Janeway behind. Blood curdling screams filled the night as the wampas devoured the helpless victim, their meal. Carth watched in terror as Janeway's extended arm fell into the snow. Her dead eyes intently set on the poor young man's soul.
"Inside," Jon demanded.
The crew had successfully reached the remains of the Nerf Herder, but not without their losses. After Uhura dragged the stricken Carth into the belly of the Herder, Jon collapsed the wall, protecting them from the burden of the wampas hunger.
Jon leaned forward, resting his hands against his knees as he heaved up vomit, his entire meal spilling forth on the almost familiar ruins. Carth shivered as he watched his friend and was forced to finally look away while Uhura comforted Jon. Kirk strolled away, his furry paw dragging along the inner wall. Kirk was never broken apart by death, perhaps that was the territory of being a combat medic.
Carth was barely holding himself together, and Uhura was more than capable at holding the team together, they all needed her now more than ever. Just as Carth was resuming his functions, he heard a heavy moan.
"Oh my stars," Kirk said.
Jon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and he and Uhura rushed to Kirk's side. Carth sighed and stretched out his neck the best he could, just barely catching sight as Jon lifted and removed the metal girders that had shaken itself apart during the crash.
"Han, he's alive!"