pslplz | Starship Kingdom

All things considered, he should count himself lucky to be alive. Piloting a ship manually through that kind of magnetic turbulence with half of the sensors down could not have been easy. It's a testament to Akaya's skill as a pilot that they're more than a smoking crater on the planet's surface right now.

And as a result of that skill, there's work to be done. The communicator offered nothing but piecemeal words between static on the way down; it won't be in any better state now. Moreover, the ship is surely too damaged to handle lift-off and propulsion through the heavy atmosphere. And yet, the idea that they should content themselves to securing basic needs and then waiting for a rescue party is unconscionable. No, they must act decisively, first to secure survival needs and then to either repair and reinforce the shuttle or to attain some other means back to the ship.

Right. Time to move.

It's with this thought that Sanada wills himself to open his eyes, then to release his seat buckle, then to rise to his feet and verify that no one is in need of emergency medical attention. His left leg hurts to walk on, and he suspects he's suffered several burns from the heat of the particle emitter leaking in through a crevice in the cabin where it had crumpled in against his seat. These injuries will not impede him. They mustn't.

Niou's forehead is bleeding, but he seems conscious and alert and warns him he's ready to be turned over with his usual enigmatic half-smile. This is hardly the time for such jokes. Sanada will, however, take that comment to mean that the man is fine, and that he should move on to Akaya.

He braces a hand on the back of the pilot's seat as he steps forward through the pain shooting through his leg, checking him over even as he says his name in a bid for his attention.

"Akaya."

He disciplines his voice to remain level, strong. They cannot afford panic. And, he's not sure how comfortable he is broadcasting the full depth of the concern he feels in that moment at what his eyes have found.

As a pilot, you have to be prepared to for a couple bad landings once in a while. Not that Akaya has had many of those in his time behind the controls. He’s a better pilot than most (in his opinion anyway) and in any case, there a multitude of shields and safeties built into these crafts to ensure that the fuselage stays in one piece in most impacts, and that the fuel tank doesn’t explode through the same. Unfortunately, one of those safeties means they had to jettison much of their reserves before they crashed. That’s an issue Akaya will think about once he gets his bearings.

“Uh. Yup. Got us down here in one piece, didn’t I?” he says with a smirk. He moves to unbuckle himself, and furrows his brow just a little. If you don’t know what to look for, you might’ve missed it.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. There’s definitely some muscle sprain or possibly a hairline fracture in his right shoulder. He braced a bit too tightly as they bashed through the hillside before they came skidding to a stop. The impact snapped him back to his seat too hard.

"Yes. Good work." Simple praise, but such is Sanada's style. The words are genuine, sparse though they may be. And with that recognition offered, he moves straight to business.

"Report on your injuries."

“Meh,” Akaya says with the nonchalance he always uses when pushing through an injury. After all, if Sanada puts him out of commission over a stupid shoulder sprain, who’s going to put this ship back in flying shape so they can finish their mission? Priorities, he has them.

He shrugs out of the belt with more care than normal, slowly.

“I had to jettison the reserve. We might not have enough to launch.”

He’d have to make the fuel calculation based on the planet’s atmosphere and trajectory of their take-off, neither of which he can do until the computer system comes back online. Of course, they could always go look for the reserve pack - assuming it didn’t land hundreds of miles away or in the middle of an ocean or something.

'Meh' is not a clear answer, and Sanada is not pleased about it. But as with Niou, he's not going to press him. They have neither the time nor the energy to spare towards quarrel. Akaya is an adult (hard as that can be to acknowledge at times) and entitled to his dignity. Usually. If he considers himself to have no injuries to speak of, Sanada will do the same.

"In that case, we should prepare for an extended stay. How far to the point of ejection?"

Meh means not big enough to whine about, especially now that they’re stranded on some unknown planet for who knows how long. Waiting around for rescue isn’t Akaya’s style, and he appreciates how it’s not Sanada’s either.

He pulls out his tricorder from his away kit and calls up the beacon function. Fortunately, the beacon wasn’t destroyed on the reserve pod when it went down.

“20 miles due south,” he says. That could be anywhere between 5 hours to a day, depending on terrain.

Edited 2022-07-10 05:33 (UTC)

"I see. We'll make provisions to camp here tonight. We retrieve the pack first thing tomorrow."

Given the hour and the unknowns of the world outside, their best bet is to wait for the next sunrise. There's plenty they can do at the crash site in the meantime.

He turns towards the cabin to check Yagyuu, but pauses once he sees the man already engaging Niou.

Edited 2022-07-11 15:20 (UTC)

“Roger that, Commander,” Akaya says, with an almost exaggerated emphasis on Commander, a rarely used formality. He does respect the man, him being his superior and mentor and all that, etc. etc. But even so, he doesn’t usually address him by title, if only because Akaya likes the casual intimacy of their relationship. Maybe it’s an intimacy he pushes on him, because Sanada has much by way of things up his backside, and can use a little loosening up. That Akaya even bothers to shows he cares about the man beyond the official association. He starts to get up, but he hears the medical officer’s stern command:

“I trust you’re not intending on disembarking before I clear you, Lieutenant?”

“Er. Of course not.” Figures! But as Yagyuu would know, the nose dive would affect the pilot the most, being in the forward position when they crashed. He sinks back into his chair to wait assessment.

—-

Yagyuu suppresses and smile and turns back to scanning Niou’s head with his medical tricorder. It doesn’t look too serious from the preliminary standpoint. He flashes a light into Niou’s eyes and peers closely in as he holds up a finger from his other hand and moves it slowly left to right.

“Follow with your eyes, please,” he says.

Someone less observant than Niou might miss the small twitch in Sanada's expression at what he must interpret to be sarcasm. The man looks to be tempering himself against devolving into a scold. He's even more tense than usual right now. Well, that's probably to be expected. It's quite the predicament.

And yet, it could be so much worse. Niou is hardly an optimist, but he is very aware of all of the complications that were avoided in Akaya's crash landing. They're all alive. The reserve pack is retrievable. They have two crew members who came out of the crash unscathed enough to make that 40-mile round trip journey (don't think he didn't notice that you're favoring your right leg, Sanada). As the Lt. Commander deduced, the situation is salvageable.

There's no need to be so uptight.

Yagyuu, of course, is performing his duties in his typical manner as well. Courteous, efficient, analytical, and attentive-- he really is an eerily good doctor. Too bad Niou isn't nearly so good a patient.

"I'm afraid there's a light shining in my eyes. I can't see."

As Akaya waits for the doctor to finish up with Niou, he preps the ship for standby mode. He subtly glances at Sanada as he taps away at the screen.

Yagyuu snorts softly and shifts the light to a better angle so he can still see but it’s not flashing directly into Niou’s face.

“I am glad that the head trauma has not adversely affected your witty repartee.”

Yagyuu is as unflappable as always. Of course he doesn't rise to the bait-- that would be too easy. Nor is he ignoring it in hopes it might simply disappear. The man is smart enough-- and knows him well enough-- to know the challenge only makes him more interested. If Yagyuu were an easy target, it wouldn't be fun.

But what really makes it engaging is that he welcomes the game. Yagyuu's bantering response is all the proof anyone should need of that. Challenge accepted.

"Wouldn't that be a loss," he says, his eyes fixated on Yagyuu's. Never mind they're supposed to be following a finger.

“Indeed, it would be quite disabling, for a man in your position,” Yagyuu says without missing a beat. His finger keeps moving as though he hasn’t noticed that Niou’s eyes have failed to follow it. Yagyuu’s gaze might look deceptively amused.

“But perhaps you have other agreeable qualities to recommend yourself.”

Up front, Akaya lets out a brief snort.

Talk about asking for it.

Niou's easy half-smile expression turns devilish, and without missing a beat himself, he speaks in a perfect imitation of Yagyuu's voice, as though the man's barb were only the first half of what he had to say.

"If nothing else, I can confidently report on your physical attractiveness as beyond reproach."

“Ah.” That’s the remark that finally makes his finger stop mid-air.

“Your wits I can account for, but vision - what shall we say, since I’m dubious as to your sincere participation in this exercise?” And maybe that finger wags a little bit in reproach?

Sanada, who had become tense as a tightrope with secondhand embarrassment and was just about to ream Yagyuu because what kind of unprofessionalism is that, mercifully realized the trick in time to spare himself the firsthand variety.

"Maybe I have more interesting things to look at than your finger," Niou retorts back in his usual voice.

"Try holding up a different one."

Like you know you'd like to, Mr. Gentleman.

His lips twitch a bit before Yagyuu lowers his finger, and the hand holding up the light. His expression softens as he says privately to Niou: “Perhaps at another time.”

Poor Sanada, Akaya thinks as he watches the man tense up. He should learn to roll with it, because this rag tag crew has always been this way. But maybe crash landing on a random planet might be cause for new tension? Akaya thinks it’s better to lighten the mood instead of being full of doom and gloom and seriousness.

“Hey Doc, can you scan me so I can get outta here?”

“Of course.” Yagyuu tends to Niou’s head wound deftly before getting up.

He lets the conversation end there (for now). Yagyuu rises to tend to Akaya, and Niou turns his attention to what he can see outside the bit of front window visible from where he sits. It's arid and barren where they landed, but there's vegetation in the distance. That will be where the water is.

Unfortunately, it won't be where the fuel reserve pack is. Are they in for a desert hike? It seems that way.

Sanada offers Yagyuu a singular nod as their doctor moves to the pilot's seat to scan Akaya, then takes a moment to check the environmental scans he's conducting via the sensor array. Air is breathable, although sensors indicate elevated levels of compounds known to be harmful with long-term exposure. For the span of time it will be relevant to his team, the compounds will simply be an irritant.

He folds his arms and turns his attention to Yagyuu and Akaya to hear the doctor's assessment.

A brief scan with his handheld shows that Akaya has a shoulder sprain. Yagyuu gives him some pain meds and applies a cooling pad to bring down the swelling.

“No heaving lifting, no vigorous movements,” he says, while Akaya grunts discontentedly. “I could put it in a sling,” Yagyuu adds with a tilt of his head.

The young man opens his mouth and then closes it again, sighing. “I hear you.”

Yagyuu gives him a warm smile and gets up to tend to Sanada’s burn wound. Those can be tricky things, but thankfully it hasn’t penetrated too deeply to cause major tissue damage. He cleans it carefully and adds a cooling gel that will dull the pain and also help to shield it from infection.

“It’s fortunate that we still have some mobility amongst us,” Yagyuu says to him as he wraps the leg with gauze. Given Akaya and Sanada’s respective diagnoses, it is clear who among them is suited for the task of retrieving the reserve pack. He pauses expectantly for orders.

Sanada is a stubborn man, ~~often~~ sometimes to a fault. He is no idiot, however, particularly when it comes to his team's welfare (granted his ideas of what's best for them may be unorthodox at times). He issues a low sound of concurrence to Yagyuu's comment, then stands, gingerly testing the doctor's treatment. Still injured, of course, but the pain is much diminished.

"Priorities for the remainder of today are scouting and ensuring structural integrity of the ship. For tonight, it is our most reliable source of shelter. Niou, Akaya: you two are scouting. Disturb nothing. Stay within a kilometer, and prioritize exploration to the south. I expect a full report on opportunities and threats. Yagyuu and I will tend to the ship.

"At sunrise, Niou and Yagyuu will depart for the pack. Make preparations accordingly. Dismissed!"

Niou rises from his seat and tosses a sidelong glance at Yagyuu, though his only comment is to no one in particular as he retrieves a phaser and tricorder from storage and starts for the hatch. "Now then, let's have a nice little nature walk."

Nature walk, ha. Akaya actually enjoys exploring new planets, though it’s usually from the vantage point of his cockpit. Trudging along terrain by foot feels much less informative, slower. Still, it’s what they’re tasked with, and he intends to come back with the best possible data so they can complete their mission and get off this rock in one piece. The painkiller is working well, thank you Dr. Yagyuu. He doesn’t mind pain, but it can be a distraction when it’s too intense.

Akaya straps his kit around his waist and pulls out his tricorder, which doubles as a flashlight. He orients himself and heads south, per orders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us off this planet soon so no one will be deprived of your witty repartee for too long,” he says with a smirk as he heads into the woods.

He might be devil-may-care humor on the surface, but as they exit the ship and begin exploring, Niou's senses are on hyper-alert. It's not that he's nervous, it's just what he does. It's also what he's paid for.

Right away, he can smell the slight ashy burn in the air that he assumes is what those air readings were warning about. Not enough to discolor the sky, it seems. The soil is soft and loose, about an inch of give under the feet. Vegetation is healthy minus signs that insects and larger creatures alike enjoy feeding off it. Rolling terrain. A few hills and valleys.

"Aren't you reliable," he drawls in a semi-dismissive way. "Try being quiet a little. There's life here."

And it might not all be friendly.

“No shit,” Akaya says sarcastically. He doesn’t like being shushed like a child, nor being told the obvious. Nevertheless, he does keep his voice down as they venture inward over the squishy grounds that form the perimeter of their crash site.

‘Life’ he has found, is mostly hostile on other planets. It’s really the level of annoyance that they have to measure and prepare for in these cases of unexpected contact. As far as he is aware, there is no advanced species on this planet, so at least he’s confident that their tech won’t be outmatched.

He scans the vicinity for chemical and biological agents. For now, the readings fall safely within acceptable ranges. Something moves suddenly in the bushes up ahead. Akaya glances at Niou and nods towards it.

Offensive? Maybe, but it shut down Akaya's teasing right quick, which means it had also been effective. Anyway, being less disruptive is a good thing too. Frankly, he can't fault any wildlife its hostility towards them; they're the intruders, after all. They should disturb as little as possible.

He of course sees and hears the rustle among the foliage, but keeps his senses alert to the full 360 degrees around them. And he eyes the ground around the bushy area. No notable depressions.

"It's small and lightweight." Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean harmless. "Fast, probably."

And easily spooked too, it turns out. The moment Akaya takes a careful step towards it to investigate further, it flies out of there in a hurry, heading straight for them before launching itself upward. A flurry of leaves and debris follow quickly behind, and Akaya barely has time to shield his face with his arm.

He glances up to watch the creature’s silhouette against the sky. Something like a bat, maybe? Definitely not bird.

“Uh. Hopefully it’s running from us?”

That's not a good sign.

"It wouldn't run towards us if we were the threat," Niou reasons, and focuses more heavily on the vicinity beyond the bush. "Be ready."

Just in case. There's a considerable size difference between them and that creature; if it's the flying creature's natural predator, that could be enough to scare it towards them without it necessarily spelling trouble for them. On the other hand, hunger can be a powerful motivator, and humans are remarkably lacking in natural defenses against the food chain.

He sees nothing. Hears nothing. It's the air that changes. A stench of decay.

"Smell that? Rotting flesh. It's coming."

That’s not a great sign. Akaya tucks his tricorder in his belt clip and arms himself with a phaser instead, pointing it toward the bushes. They part, and out comes a fleshy looking beast, almost like a hyena but taller, lankier. Its eyes seem to look glazed over, casting a pale yellow hue.

Akaya notices that its skin seems to be peeled back, exposing the rot that Niou so aptly described. He stays still, so as not to alarm the thing into attacking.

“You know,” he mutters under his breath, “I was really hoping it was your stinky breath in the air. Not some fucking zombie alien.”

It looks diseased.

No assumptions for alien life is the rule-- this could be its natural state. Maybe. It's a sorry sight, though. Niou gets the impression it's not fully aware of its surroundings yet.

Staying still has its merits, but it's going to notice them sooner or later, and it's an open question how it will react. Niou shifts his hand to his utility belt and releases a small drone from it, activating it with his thumb. It rises in the sky with barely a sound.

He notes a couple of trees nearby that look scalable and tests a few slow steps back. It gets the animal's attention, but its body language communicates confusion and alertness more than danger. No fundamental change in its posture.

If they can remove themselves without engaging it, that's the best option. Calm, subtle movements to redirect course and cede the area to the being that actually belongs there.

Starship Kingdom

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