Falling, that’s what he was trained for, falling. Not crashing.
At least, not this type of crash. There aren’t too many procedures for surviving a capital ship crashing into the planet’s surface. If he had the chance, he would have tried jumping out of the ship, but the reentry heat said no. As good luck, for once, would have it, he didn’t need that escape jump.
But maybe that would have been nicer.
Buoy wakes up, breathing heavy. Feeling wet, he instantly flailed about, trying to go up before his limbs hit metal walls. He lets out a half-swear, biting down into an angry grunt like someone stubbing their toe. Eyes clinched from the pain, Buoy opened them back up to look at his surroundings and himself.
I’m not drowning? Not drowning!
He almost throws a fist into the air before remembering the flail pain. His joy faltering to his new reality.
“Oh no,” he droned. That’s right, we crashed.
He remembered heading for a spot to brace himself and was awake until impact. Might have received a concussion. Something knocked him out, if only shortly. Hopefully just shortly.
Buoy tries moving, repositioning from his odd sitting position. The space in this coffin was small, but like any crawlspace, had enough to reposition. He crawls his way out, following the only path available until out in the light.
After checking for enemy forces, he tumbles out and climbs back to his feet. The worst part when your ship gets wrecked is figuring out what part you ended up with. And with wreckage everywhere, it didn’t help. In looking for a marker, any indicator to determine position, he finds a white arm. Someone crushed under a chunk.
“Brother?!” He calls and rushes over, but upon checking them finds they were flatten.
A harsh breath escapes him and then Buoy notices the blaster nearby. Realizing he no longer had weapons on him, he picked up the rifle.
“I’m sorry brother, but I’ll be needing this. You’ll get them next time.”
With some further searching, he finds a couple more grenades and then his coms go off.
“This is CC-2897 to any surviving GAR personnel. Any surviving Republic forces, please respond.”
“I read you CC-2897. This is Cap-agh-Captain Duke. All forces, leave the ship, Immedi-augh, immediately.”
“Copy, commander. My position is around main hangar. Standing by to assist.”
Hearing his brothers voices causes him to smile. Yes, he wasn’t the only one! There is a pause in communication, Buoy waiting to hear if others call in before Captain Duke called again.
“I repeat, all units, get out of the Harbinger . Rendezvous at the front of the ship.”
Or perhaps not. With that order, Buoy starts making his way out. Once further enough out of the ship, he thinks he knows where the front is now. As he heads for it, he hears another brother chime on coms.
“This is CT-2904, location bunk room cresh. I am trapped, and Captain Duke is injured. Requesting assistance”
“Understood. I am currently rescuing another trooper, and I will be on my way.”
“Negative, soldier. We have all the help we need here. Rescue the trooper you’re with now, and report toward the end of the ship.”
To the end? Is that still the front or… Buoy wonders. He finally opens up coms to ask.
“This is CT-8604 reporting in sir. Am I still to head for the front of the ship or another end captain?”