LoK Concentrate and finish the mission.
From Create Your Own Story
Krystal shakes her head, as if to clear it, and does her best to focus on the mission. The rich mineral deposits play havoc with her sensors, making her wonder why no major interests have ever ever tried setting up mining operations here. Surely the price of extra security to keep the natives from killing your workers would be worth it? Then again, Sauria did have an uncertain reputation from when it sort of...broke into four pieces within recent memory, with the Krazoa spirits evidently being the only thing keeping the moon from being turned into a new ring system by the gravity of its parent body. Shuddering, she thanks her birth stars that Andross' madness never had a chance to succeed, leaving her trapped in a crystal prison on a lonely asteroid for eternity.
Try as she might, she gets no closer to her goal of activating the secondary drone, weaving twisting paths through the maze of jagged, volcanic ridges and narrow valleys as she hunts the weak and intermittent signal in vain. The temperature in the small cockpit rises, as the flightsuit seems to constrict around her lithe, sweaty frame. Groaning in frustration, she loops around a particularly impressive and rugged mountain range in an attempt to give her sensors a high-altitude scan of the target region, surprisingly not volcanic despite the prevalence of extinct Ashemounts in the surrounding area. As her Arwing circles the snow-capped peaks, eyes trained carefully on sensor readouts, her engines begin to flicker and whine. Snapping to attention, she scrambles to run diagnostics as she fights to keep control of the fighter, letting loose a series of expletives that would have shocked her elderly tutor into a long overdue grave.
Cursing even more foully, she blinks in disbelief at the readout, helpfully informing her that roughly nine out of every ten systems needed to actually make the Arwing fly and keep her protected from the vacuum of space are failing due to recent battle damage, and noting that the systems responsible for automatically monitoring her Arwings internals are not responding. Vaguely, she recalls Slippy saying something about having to re-route her automated diagnostics through a handful of backup computer cores, making them vulnerable to damage. As she fights to keep her Arwing level in its spiral to an inevitable meeting with the hard, hard ground, she curses the frog and his family six generations back. Why the Hell should she have to die because just this one time his warnings actually meant something? He should have spouted less jargon and made sure she was actually listening!
Her eyes flicker desperately to the weather readout. If she can just... There! Sighing in relief at the lucky updraft, she slams the emergency maneuvering jets into action with her fist, giving her the extra control and power she desperately needs to make her imminent crash survivable. Bracing for a hard landing, she closes her eyes tight as her precious Arwing slams through the jungle canopy, a symphony of snapping branches and cringe-inducing crashing noises singing her to her collision with the rocky soil. Slamming against the front of her harness, she all but blacks out as her starfighter slowly grinds to a halt. Taking one last look around, she looks at her clock, blinking in surprise at the time. Minutes? That crash felt like four hours of continually smacking trees! Collapsing back onto her seat, she slips into unconsciousness thinking that she wished the crash had broken part of her canopy open. It's so damn hot...
Some time later, she feels vague impressions of being in motion, of a smell familiar enough to warn her of danger but not immediately recognizable, and an oversize hand squeezing one of her firm ass cheeks. Trying to tell whoever it is to sod off, the words fail to escape her mouth and she falls the rest of the way into darkness.
What does Krystal do?
Location:Krystal's Arwing (Flying)
Status | ||
Health | Uncomfortably Hot, Unconscious | Equipment: |
MP | 0 | |
Conquests | 0 |
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