Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
The Colony, sometimes referred to as Colonial Forces, is a private organization of human settlers willing to go places others will not. The Colony has settled over a hundred planets previously believed to be uninhabitable by humans due to hostile previous inhabitants. We have ways of subduing almost any kind of native creature. But sometimes, we just like to have fun.
I am too busy admiring myself in the mirror to notice when the ship first starts to fall. We entered orbit about three hours ago, and there should be ten or so more hours until I land, feather soft, at Colony Alpha.
It’s a bright flash of light outside that alerts me to the fact that the ship and I just passed through an atmospheric boundary, which means we are no longer in orbit. Gravity has taken hold, and it is doing what gravity does best.
The instruments on the bridge confirm my suspicions. The ship is falling. Not crashing, because that would indicate that there was some apparent malfunction, and the ship would sound alerts and alarms. None of those have been activated. The ship seems quite happy to careen toward the ground. If not for the atmospheric flash, the first I would have known about it was when I was suddenly turned into human paste against the planet’s face.
I hit the emergency button, a big red hexagon on the console. It does not seem to do anything.
I hit it three more times in quick succession.
The planet below is getting bigger by the second. I am about to crash nose-first at terminal fucking velocity.
There are manual controls on this ship. They are not designed to be used by the passenger, but are there for the techs to use when maneuvering the craft around for maintenance and repairs. The controls are nothing more than a flight stick and pedals tucked away underneath the base of the console.
I hike my gown up and slide into the pilot’s seat. Grabbing the flight stick, I pull back hard, trying to bring the nose of the craft up and away from the ground. I have to break this momentum. I have to get this thing to fly rather than to fall. If we can get back into orbit around this planet, that will keep me safe until I can get help.
But we’re already too low, way past orbital height. As the nose comes up, we go from a fall to a glide, passing over dense forest. I haven’t averted disaster, but I have slowed it down slightly.
There is a life pod of sorts on the bridge. It’s designed to withstand asteroidal impacts and weapons fire. It’s basically a big ball of cotton wool for humans. I rush for it as the front and side windows of the ship reveal an uncomfortably close view of terrain, tops of trees whipping past the glass.
I belt myself in the safety zone with seconds to spare and brace for impact.
The feeling when the ship hits the ground is like no other. It is a jolt hard enough to make every single molecule in my body rattle. Fortunately, I managed to get it to slide rather than simply crash, coming in at a shallow enough angle that we are more like a stone skipping across water than a stone being smashed directly into my face.
I stay conscious. I don’t know how. Bits of the ship are coming off, scattering into alien terrain. I can hear them being ripped off by rocks and other elements. When I open my eyes, I see the outer skin of the hull peeling off around me. The main structure is still intact as we hit something very large and hard, big enough to spin the ship around with its momentum. Now I am going sideways, my hair whipping across my face. The sound a ship makes when it is being deconstructed by force is enough to destroy all sense of hearing.
I don’t hear it when we hit the mountain. I don’t notice anything. One moment I am screaming along with the rest of the ship, and the next we are all completely silent.
An indeterminate amount of time later…
I open my eyes.
My dress is ripped almost completely off my body. My underwear is still in place, and my comfy, fuzzy white boots are still on my feet. My footwear has stayed on. That’s the only bright sign so far.
There is almost nothing left of the ship, and absolutely nothing left of the supplies. I find myself suspended in the remnants of the framing of the fuselage. Most of the strapping and all of the padding has broken away or exploded in the crash. When I move, I tumble out of the harness and onto the rocky ground below.
“I’m alive,” I mumble to myself.
“I’M ALIVE!” I repeat it louder, defiantly. It does not feel like I am supposed to be alive. It feels like I’m supposed to be a smear across the planet. “HELL YEAH! You see that? You see what happens when you try to kill me with accidents? It doesn’t work! I’m a SURVIVOR, baby!”