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“The ID Markers were destroyed in the crash.” Lessa closed her eyes, thinking back to that fateful day. The battle had been particularly rough and her ship was battered by plasma fire to a point that her squad commander had ordered her to retreat. Several ships had been lost in the encounter and hers was one of several coming in for a landing on the space station they called home. “And I was critically injured.”
The raiders were fleeing and being pursued by more capable fighters. Lessa had skillfully brought her ship around to land in one of the open shuttle bays when her communication lines ceased functioning. She chose an open bay and brought her ship in roughly, startling and almost killing several workers as they were clearing the bay for other ships that they expected to come much later.
Lessa’s fighter had been more damaged than she knew. It came in without landing gear and the docking equipment was not in place. The ship tilted and crashed into the floor of the bay and within moments the sparking bits of exposed circuitry exploded in the oxygen rich atmosphere – a parting gift from a specialized raider weapon to ensure more damage should a crippled fighter make it back to the space station.
Lessa had time to eject the shielding from the cockpit so she could get out, but her seat belts held her captive. Her left arm had been caught in the ship’s gear when the crash crumpled the nose of her fighter like a cheap metal toy, sending pieces of the frame against her arm, jamming the seatbelt and almost completely removing her arm. The pain had been excruciating as fire spread through the rips in her flame proof uniform and the cracks in her helmet. The inside of the helmet had caught fire before a pair of fast thinking crewmembers wrenched her free of the wreckage, burning their own hands and arms in the process.
“They didn’t know who I was.” The crew had pulled her aside and immediately called emergency care to come and get her while they worked to put out the burning fighter before it exploded. They had left her in writhing agony on the floor of the bay. They didn’t want to touch her with her injuries and concentrated on with what they could handle.
6 thoughts on “12/17/2010”
Philistine21
Interesting. It would seem that their ships don’t have some kind of black box designed to survive the crash, because that would have told them whose plane it was.
Starcat5
Even money says she was in a coma and the ADC used her as a genetic “Easy Bake Oven”.
Redlion
@Starcat5: I’ll second that bet.
Cyanobacterium
The panel on the left is really exciting. I especially like the ripples in the force field thing. The sparks look good too.
Meh
Hope easy bake oven theory is right otherwise, why the hell would someone have that many kids on a tiny space station? Also how the heck did Lex become dice property if he had so many family members, including a “twin” of another species?
Hornswaggler
Agreed. The ADC is apparently very good at wiping records, or someone would have found out by now.
Although Riley isn’t legally his twin, as it was just the whole ‘born on the exact same day a year later’ thing. Riley tried (as far as I can remember) to adopt Lexx once he found out about his parents, but I guess something didn’t work out with that.
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