Threads of heat from the crashed escape pod weave through the biting, bitter cold, but it isn’t enough to get my many limbs to stop shaking.

Focus.

I’m stuck on a strange alien planet surrounded by frozen H2O particles and odd growths. Possibly indigenous natural growth? This is quarantined territory for a reason; populated by dangerous, violent creatures. Many species share the surface and liquid saline H2O. Terrifying to consider what they will do if I’m caught. Sheer stupidity drove me to run through this space. Dying here will be a welcome relief to my torment on the Council prison transport, though.

Something inorganic hums over the hiss and pop of the crash site.

What if I didn’t go fast enough, and it’s the council?

Panic drives me towards the wreckage instead of into the growths. This technology cannot end up with the natives. It’d prove disastrous for the lives of everyone in the free verse and beyond.

A growth grabs my foot, taking me to the ground. I stumble to my feet, refusing to give into the black at the edges of my vision.

Back at the pod I punch in the code I saw my guards use. Thankfully, the code works, and the guards' bodies will be dust and debris along with everything else here.

Things get darker. The loud rumble of the auto destruct shakes the ground. While I’m losing my only shot at getting the comms array working, it will set a beacon the resistance can ping.

Or the council.

Hopefully someone, anyone safe, finds me before they do. Stealing the small escape pod and running will only make everything worse for me if I’m caught.

More odd growths attack as I’m trying to run from the implosion. This time, they pull me to the ground. I’m only vaguely aware of the loud, violent explosion as I finally succumb to the darkness clouding my vision.

+++

Warmth cradles me. Moaning, I try to open my eyes.

Loud angry noises bounce nearby, causing panic to swell in my throats.

With great effort, I get an eye open. Odd growths and frozen H2O particles no longer surround me. Apparently I’m inside a dwelling? Some type of synthesized material is imprisoning me and a containment module of fire burns in the wall.

Two creatures are here. One has 4 appendages, a shaggy coating, and emits loud vocalizations, trembling. Shaggy Beast launches at me and tries to eat my face with a pink appendage surrounded by sharp white blades.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Fear causes me to release a cloud of smoke and try to run, but it’s hard to get out of the soft cell. Another puff of smoke puts a second barrier around me as I heat my hands, trying to burn my way out.

The alien erect on two appendages has what could be hands (only two?) up with a calm demeanor. Shaggy Beast makes a high-pitched sound, trying to attack again. The other alien turns, says a single word (at least I believe it’s one?), and the beast slumps to the ground.

A single word can make others sleep? Stars above, I have to avoid them using this power on me.

All my eyes finally open, helping me see better; my wounds are crudely and inefficiently covered.

The vocalizations are quieter, but still angry and jumbled.

I prepare to release another cloud of smoke and burn through the wall of the dwelling. It seems to be constructed from the growths outside.

May the mighty have mercy. These monsters pile the bodies of sentient entities and live in their carcasses!

Should I have taken my chances with the council?

Grief causes me to tremble so hard I slump down the wall. I don’t want to die like this.

The creature follows my movements to the ground with me. Still holding an awkward pose.

I mimic the movement, hoping they will spare me. Its face contorts and I want to grieve again. It stops holding the posture, so I do too.

Putting a hand on itself, the alien repeats something several times.

Perhaps they have first contact rituals as we do? I never learned we’re not allowed to initiate first contact.

“I am M’Awk,” I whisper, fear gripping my voice.

The words cause it to cringe and put hands on the side of what I’m assuming is a head (there is only one).

“M’Awk?” it gestures to itself, “Sally.”

“Sally?”

Perhaps my vocalizations are too loud for the Sally alien? It cringes again.

I try to speak as quietly as I can. “Please do not eat me,” I beg.

The Sally moves to an odd box and opens it. Cold wafts out along with H2O particles.

Tears fall faster, at least I can cry without a punishment protocol initiating, that’s nice.

My name repeats softly, even if the tone is harsh.

Okay, it’s trying to reassure me of something?

The Sally puts a vial from the cold box to a hole with sharp white things and tips it back. Before holding the other out to me.

Ah, its offering local sustenance.

I take the vial and tap my holopad; it hasn’t been online since the crash. Which is both a blessing and hinderance. The holo cannot start rehabilitation or punishment protocols, which means no pain. However, they blocked my translation centers, so I have no way of communicating without it.

“I can’t ingest it without a scan,” I explain as quietly as I can.

The Sally repeats, “M’Awk — safe,” several times.

Then gestures around before walking away. Shaggy Beast gets up and goes too. I don’t know how to get out from under these dead bodies, so I curl around myself in the dwelling’s corner and cry myself to sleep.