[b]Unknown Planet: [/b]
Eric groggily gets up, lighting streaking behind his eyes as he attempts to stand. Before he knows it, he's back on the ground, with blood streaming out of the back of his head.
[Artemis]||: Careful there. Detecting multiple lacerations, a concussion, four broken ribs, torn ligaments in your knees, a shattered wrist... And your arm's missing.
Much to Eric's surprise, Artemis was correct in that statement: where his prosthetic arm had once been, there were merely a few torn strands of nano-fiber, plasteel, and cauterized flesh. He couldn't feel most of the rest of his body though, thankfully, but what he could feel was pure agony. As Artemis injected him with a bio-gel pack, slowly his pain number enough for him to stand... Only for him to fall again.
[Artemis]||: That pack should reconnect the ligaments, and heal a few cuts, but your balance is shot. So is your depth perception, judging by your stupid attempts to get back up. Judging by the imperfect geometry of the binary stars, we are in a system... An uncharted system, fairly close to the Exalin. In fact, luckily, it's in this system, just a few planets away.
Eric rolled over on his back, spitting acidic-tasting grass out of his mouth as he did so. This planet had a comfortable enough atmosphere, but the nights were abysmally cold, and his chances of surviving those were between 0 and .01%... Judging by his calculations.
"Can we establish... C-c.--"
He's cut off by severe coughing; a rib might have punctured a lung.
"Contact. Can we establish contact?"
[Artemis]||: August hid a tracking device on us, judging him based on our first impression. They might be on their way.... Might not. I have no way of contacting them, so all we can do is hope.
"We?"
[Artemis]||: Sure. If you die, I'm stranded here.
"Great. So... We're screwed, right?"
[Artemis]||: As screwed as an AI chip can get.
"... If Phantom can track us, then couldn't he track... Him?"
[Artemis]||: Possibly. Ginger didn't seem like the kind of guy who [i]wanted[/i] to be tracked though.
"So... How do you want to die?"
(Open for rescue. It's a long story)
English
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A gunship lands about a mile away*
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[spoiler] http://quesocito.deviantart.com/art/Reaver-Gunship-346223118.jpg[/spoiler] Eric sees a ship fly across the sky
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Artemis alerts him to the incoming ship, and flares his shields a few times, the light reminiscent of that of a dying star. Hopefully the ship will use that as a beacon.
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A comms channel can be heard, although a little patchy "The hell is that?" A very British accent can be heard replying "That is a spike in energy reading." "I could've figured it out." "You wouldn't have." "Whatever. What could it be?" "A number of things, actually. Could be a person, a group of people, or an anomaly." Suddenly, a loud and clear message comes through "Is anybody out there?"
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Eric groans an unintelligible response. The med-pack Artemis injected him probably contained a sedative... Or perhaps he had a concussion or two. Regardless, Artemis replies in lieu of him. "This is Artemis of the Exalin carrier, do you read me, over?"
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"I do. What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"
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Edited by GingerlyWalnut3: 9/29/2015 8:03:59 PM"It's a long story, but now's not the time to retell it. Quickly, we have a an bleeding out over here, and I'm not exactly a corporeal being."
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"Of course you're not. Coming down now." The ship lands and a man with slightly graying hair but predominantly brown in a brown cloak that seems to move on its own and an alien step out [spoiler]http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Drall_(species)[/spoiler]
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Artemis is nowhere to be seen, clearly, but Eric is lying on the ground, barely recognizable. Scans reveal numerous, perhaps fatal injuries (see the post, I'm too lazy to repeat them), and he requires immediate medical attention.
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The man walks over "Alright, he doesn't look good. Sheyen, help me out here." We carry him back to the ship and I head back to the cockpit and set coordinates to the Exalin, while Sheyen carries Eric to the medbay
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He begins to deliriously speak, though he's unintelligible. He continues to move the stump of his Prosthetic arm as if he's fighting, though the arm itself is nowhere to be seen.
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Sheyen sighs and speaks "For God's sake man. I daresay that I'm becoming a little angry."
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A voice plays through an external speaker in his armor. The voice is female. "What did you expect, poetry?"
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"Well, something coherent at the very least. If you can, see if you can work your way to the cockpit. Deceiver is there."
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"... In case you haven't noticed, I don't have a body. The person in this suit of armor is unconscious, because he just got the shit kicked out of him. What's our ETA?"
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"I can very well see that you don't have a body. I was referring to going to the cockpit through wiring. About 30 minutes to an hour, is say."