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Topic: Lone Wolves Squadron: Razor's Log: Crashed and Marooned (Ongoing) (Read 3232 times) previous topic - next topic
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Lone Wolves Squadron: Razor's Log: Crashed and Marooned (Ongoing)

OOC: Topic will be corrected and modified as it goes. I probably won't have enough time to write it all in one go. So feel free to read it again if you want and spot the changes. Upon completion there will be a notification in the title or the first post.



[ Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Icy Planetoid | Day 0 ]

Everything felt like a blur as the nose of the Mk III Valkyrie was dug in tightly into the snow. Alarms were blaring faintly as Thomas opened his eyes and felt the aftermath of his crash landing. 'Back on this icy crap hole...' he thought to himself as he looked around him dazed. His eyes following yet the vision still blurry and systems sparking inside the cockpit. He closed his eyes for a few seconds as he tapped the instruments for a detailed damage report.

Critical failure:
Primary thrusters
Shields

Weapons offline.
Life support damaged.
Structural integrity compromised.

The report wasn't pretty and Thomas groaned as he checked himself, his body ached all over from the impact yet the flight suit had protected him from shattering or snapping any bones. Internal hemorrhaging was still a risk, yet one he neglected for now. After a careful patting over his entire body it seemed he'd probably have a whole lot of bruises and scratches on him. He stared up as the snow was still dropping down on him, yet whilst looking up, he knew that the only way out of this shit hole was to fly. He activated his emergency beacon, in case rescue parties would be sent his way. Which was unlikely due to the jamming effect of the nebula and if Rawley had a say in it, they'd probably have him exiled for a so called crime he couldn't remember.

As he looked around him to see what else was around him, he spotted various jagged rocks and icy cartel edges. Yet his eyes stopped at the wingtip of a Reaver sticking out of the snow right next to him.  "For fuck..." he blurted out as he reached down to grab the type III phaser assault rifle that was standard issue in the fighters. The moment however his mind reminded him that he had used the rifle to shoot Nightmare sent a chill down his spine. He had tossed the rifle over to a deck hand in order to survive the mutiny. The spot was empty and he reached for his hand phaser instead as he felt his stomach churn.

He opened up the cockpit as he was greeted by the sub zero temperatures, a batch of snow dropping in the cockpit as he crawled out and shivered a little while his exosuit did it's best to thermo-regulate. The area around him proved to be dire if not hostile. He remembered the animals that roamed the planetoid and how 'unfriendly' those were. He seemed to have crashed his ship in a canyon. The walls of the canyon covered in ice and snow and at some levels it seemed the wind had shaped blade like icy spires that stuck out of the canyon. The sky was cloudy, darkly clouded as the snow continued to fall.

The ship seemed badly damaged itself as there were plasma fires raging over the belly of the ship. He eased his way over to the cockpit only to notice it was empty. The rest of the fuselage was rather damaged with twisted metal and fluids leaking out which froze up pretty rapidly due to the cold temperatures. He looked around as the winds picked up and gusts of ice and snow were plastered against both ships. In the distance he could see the second chasing Reaver. It had been slammed against the chasm and lost it's wings, yet the fuselage looked intact. He'd have to venture to the wreck at some point to scavenge it for supplies.

For now though, he choose to return to his ship and make an inventory check. He wasn't going to get of this planetoid any time soon, so he imagined he'd have to make due with what he had. He closed the canopy once more, as he tried to keep himself warm inside. He opened up his first pack of rations as hunger began to gnaw at him. He checked piece by piece as light began to creep away from the canyon, a cold long night ensured to follow...

Re: Deleted Scene: Razor's Log: Crashed and Marooned (Ongoing)

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[ Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Icy Planetoid | Day 1 ]

Morning came sooner than expected, or so he imagined as Thomas had no real indication of time on the planetoid. The storm had raged on for most of the night, and had subdued only a little in the last couple of hours. Thomas stirred a little in his cockpit and looked up at the sky which showed the outlines of the nebula above. He sighed and started to rummage through the confined space. His rations were there although besides the first two packs, the rest seemed to be done for as one of the hits to his bird had burned through the fuselage and burnt up half of the rations. It had plugged the hole somewhat yet there was no way he could eat those.

He stomped down against the floor of the cockpit as he let out a frustrated shout. He opened the first pack and only took half of the ration to get through for now. He had no clue how long he'd be on this rock, nor if he'd ever get out of here. As he chewed on the dry ration that was nothing more but compressed variable foodstuffs he looked around him to see what the day would bring. He still needed to investigate the crashed Reaver not far from here and he could attempt to put out a distress call on a high point.

After a while he suited back up to protect him from the cold and opened the canopy. The wind still sheered around him as he hoisted himself out of the ship. He walked over to grab the things needed for a remote distress beacon and heard sounds in the distant that didn't even came close to humane or animal like. God knows what terrors stalked the planetoid and Razor could only hope he'd not meet any of them during his stay. That prospect probably not realistic as the sounds did seem to come closer.

The first few hours he inspected the external damage to the Valkyrie from the outside. It was substantial and he'd need to find a way to get the damaged Reaver off his ship. In fact he might even need components and pieces from the Reaver to make his ship fly in total. He'd investigate it further after he got his distress signal up. He scavenged what he could find in the cockpit of the downed Reaver before making his tour to the downed ship further ahead. The snow cracked under his feet as he made slow progress, yet he could also hear ice break from behind him in the distance. He turned his head around and looked over his shoulder as he heard something charge up from in front of him. A discharge was heard and Thomas managed to drop down in the nick of time as a shot connected further downrange against a pile of snow. It even caused a little splash of ice and snow.

Looking forward bewildered Thomas could see a form of pilot in the downed Reaver. The pilot holding a rather big rifle like weapon that charged up again as it scanned for a target to shoot. "Shitsticks..." he murmured as he kept hugging the snow "Just what I needed." he took out his hand phaser and set it to lethal. He poked his head up yet had to duck down for a new shot that missed him for a hair. He returned fire without aiming at first and then looked up to deliver more pin pointed shots. The impacts dropped in near the cockpit and fuselage. The aimed shot hit the pilot, yet left him unphased as the shots seem to go right through him. "What the fuck!" he shouted in frustration as he got suppressed in no time.
Rolling over to cover the firefight lasted for a few more minutes before parties stopped firing. The relative peace returned to the canyon they were in and Thomas decided that this needed to end now. For all he knew, the pilot might crawl out of his canopy and come out for him during the remainder of the day or during the night.

It was impossible though that his shots had missed. he had seen the shots connect to the frame of the pilot. There was no chance he survived it! Yet there he was taking fire from a seriously big gun. He contemplated about what he needed to do before it hit him. What if the pilot wasn't real at all.... A projection like Thea was... It would make sense...


To be continued

 
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