Chapter 2

His heart started racing.

Warning: Auxiliary power failure

Warning: Sensors failing

Warning: Engine failing

Warning: Oxygen depletion imminent

Warning: Main computer failure

Warning: Hull compromised

Justin looked away from the litany of death scrolling across the console screen. Naturally, his eyes were drawn to the glowing jewel of a world and the mint-colored clouds that swirled in its atmosphere.

Inspiration struck him like a lightning strike, because only potentially habitable worlds had air currents if he remembered his science right. Justin pulled up the sensor program and ran it, hoping the stupid thing worked enough to at least tell him what kind of atmosphere it might have.

The ship bucked again, doing a strange shimmy, and then picked up more speed just as the sensors relayed back the planet’s information. Justin cursed his luck and gave the data display a quick glance before sliding back over to the directional controls. Class M. He could breathe on that green ball of salvation.

It was a slim hope to hold on to.

The neon lights of the directional controls flickered erratically for a couple of precious seconds but stayed lit and functional, which was a miracle in and of itself. Justin acted quickly, nosing his ship down, trying his damnedest to aim for the planet peacefully floating in space below him and locking in the route. Without the computer to guide him, it was a crapshoot.

When he was sure there was nothing else he could do, Justin sat back in the chair and buckled in.

Justin watched the stunning planet grow larger in the slowly dimming view screen intently and prayed to the Gods he hoped were really watching over people like him. The Nittihit the outer atmosphere like it was a slab of concert, but somehow the ship managed to hold together.

The quick deceleration made him light-headed. Seconds later and the deafening impact with the ground was the last thing he heard as the darkness consumed him.

* * * *

Justin grimaced as he hefted the med kit out from under the upturned navigation panel. His hands still shook with adrenaline. He’d woken up with a start, Gods know how long after impact. He was still feeling slightly buzzed with the threat of death, his mind on autopilot. He was sure the shock would come later.

The console next to him sparked bright, too close to his face. He took that as his cue and slid the kit across the battered floor, managing to get it pretty close to the half-shattered exit hatch. The minor scuffs, bruises, and sprains that littered his body could wait. Justin scrambled to his feet and ducked around the hanging bits of his ship’s command cabin. With more energy than Justin really wanted to use, he shouldered the hydraulic door to the sleeping quarters open.

Most of his belongings were flung everywhere. Clothes spilled out of the compartments, boots and tools scattered across the deck, what few personal treasures he owned were in pieces all over the place. Only the bedding seemed where he left it. Justin grit his teeth at the mess and got to work.

He snatched up the first duffel bag he stumbled across and started stuffing clothes haphazardly in it. The other two bags were similarly packed and Justin dropped all three just outside the forced door before turning back to the rest of the mess. The couple of holographs he had of his old squad were done for and so was the miniature Rilexan harp Justin loved to play. He bypassed all that and went for the secure cubbyhole hidden behind the wall panel between a couple of shelves. The nearly invisible pressure lock gave way as soon as he poked it, the door swinging open on silent hinges.

It was a squeeze to get his hand in, but Justin managed it faster than normal, the memory of sparking wires spurring him on. When his hand closed around nothing up shattered glass, Justin cursed quietly. Without the subcutaneous tracker, Justin would be impossible to find on this world, if by some miracle the world itself could be found. Damn thing didn’t work if it wasn’t implanted and the glass injector housing it to keep it sterile busted in the crash, he assumed. Another thing to look into if he ever got off this rock. And if the syringe was broken, that meant suspension fluid in it had soaked his translator tech sitting underneath it. Shit.

The lights surged for a heartbeat before settling and Justin abandoned everything else for the moment. Once he had a camp set up, he’d be back to salvage what he could and see if the Nitticould be fixed.

Justin hustled back to flight control and pulled open another wall panel, triggered the manual override, and punched the button to shut down the ship. He wasn’t going anywhere near the consoles again until they were powered down. The six hours that it took for the full power down would be plenty of time to find a secured spot to hole up.