Trini gritted her small teeth, hesitating for a moment, her mind racing. She had glimpsed the devastation on the platform below, and flames and heavy fighting still occurring as some gigantic, fire-spewing insectoid horror battled what looked to be a Rancor, the remains of the local defense forces trying to keep out of the way as they in turn fought the Joiners and Killiks. Around her, Dusty and Kyle gathered seemingly random equipment.
I don't belong on a rescue shuttle!
Much as she tried to deny it, Trini was a being of action. While it had been gratifying to finally receive her professorship, the life of a university academic had been weighing on her. She was used to being in the field, as action-packed and terrifying as that had often been for her, and she could fight. She could make a difference.
"Kark it, wait for me!!"
As Dusty and Kyle piled into the escape pod, Trini dashed after them, her tail clearing the hatch just before it irised shut. There was a lurch, and the pod fell away from the ship, engines burning as it rocketed toward the landing pad below.
"So! What's the-"
Escape pods, by necessity, had some of the most powerful inertial compensators in aerospace, but even they could not completely absorb the impact as the little craft slammed into the Tanker Killik, knocking it off the elevated walkway and plunging with it down to the ground. The Amaran was barely able to keep herself from being thrown around the tiny compartment as they plummeted and then impacted.
Sensing - for all it new - a standard atmosphere, the pod's main hatch popped open automatically, as it was designed to do. Trini, who had been leaning against said hatch, yelped as she tumbled out backward, scrambling to her feet automatically. She narrowly dodged splattering ichor as she did, squeaking in alarm as she looked up to see the Tanker; it was injured, but evidently not dead.
Trini did not bother to shoot up at the monster as she ran.
Heat from the Tanker Killik's inferno stream gusted at the Amaran's back as she sprinted toward the relative safety of a tangle of parked starships, most of which looked to have been crushed, blasted or otherwise damaged. Ducking behind a landing strut on a partially collapsed shuttle, she caught her breath, and looked around. She needed a vehicle, a ship; she could fight on foot, but she would be much more effective with-
"Ugh, really??"
The SX-18A Salamander - or was it an '18U someone had retrofitted? - stood incongruously in the shelter of a badly mauled corvette, the larger ship seeming to have sheltered the much smaller one from the ruination that had visited much of the landing pad. It looked to be someone's personal sport flyer, painted in a glossy, decidedly non-military red-and-white color scheme, but the barrels of laser cannons peaked out from inside the scoop-like air intake, and Trini could see the seam of an internal missile bay door along the belly. The little 2-seater would not have been her first choice, but it was something, and the Amaran doubted she would find anything better on short notice.
She gritted her teeth and sprinted for the little ship.
I don't belong on a rescue shuttle!
Much as she tried to deny it, Trini was a being of action. While it had been gratifying to finally receive her professorship, the life of a university academic had been weighing on her. She was used to being in the field, as action-packed and terrifying as that had often been for her, and she could fight. She could make a difference.
"Kark it, wait for me!!"
As Dusty and Kyle piled into the escape pod, Trini dashed after them, her tail clearing the hatch just before it irised shut. There was a lurch, and the pod fell away from the ship, engines burning as it rocketed toward the landing pad below.
"So! What's the-"
Escape pods, by necessity, had some of the most powerful inertial compensators in aerospace, but even they could not completely absorb the impact as the little craft slammed into the Tanker Killik, knocking it off the elevated walkway and plunging with it down to the ground. The Amaran was barely able to keep herself from being thrown around the tiny compartment as they plummeted and then impacted.
Sensing - for all it new - a standard atmosphere, the pod's main hatch popped open automatically, as it was designed to do. Trini, who had been leaning against said hatch, yelped as she tumbled out backward, scrambling to her feet automatically. She narrowly dodged splattering ichor as she did, squeaking in alarm as she looked up to see the Tanker; it was injured, but evidently not dead.
Trini did not bother to shoot up at the monster as she ran.
Heat from the Tanker Killik's inferno stream gusted at the Amaran's back as she sprinted toward the relative safety of a tangle of parked starships, most of which looked to have been crushed, blasted or otherwise damaged. Ducking behind a landing strut on a partially collapsed shuttle, she caught her breath, and looked around. She needed a vehicle, a ship; she could fight on foot, but she would be much more effective with-
"Ugh, really??"
The SX-18A Salamander - or was it an '18U someone had retrofitted? - stood incongruously in the shelter of a badly mauled corvette, the larger ship seeming to have sheltered the much smaller one from the ruination that had visited much of the landing pad. It looked to be someone's personal sport flyer, painted in a glossy, decidedly non-military red-and-white color scheme, but the barrels of laser cannons peaked out from inside the scoop-like air intake, and Trini could see the seam of an internal missile bay door along the belly. The little 2-seater would not have been her first choice, but it was something, and the Amaran doubted she would find anything better on short notice.
She gritted her teeth and sprinted for the little ship.
- TL;DR
- Trini jumps in the pod with Dusty and Kyle, falls out after landing, sprints over to the cover of some wrecked starships, and finds an intact starfighter which she intends to use.
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