#(so i hope this will work despite it being 4am sjhdfgsjkd)

[respondedinkind]

Plotted starter for @ssolessurvivor

Something must have gone wrong at some point during Ka'anh's escape - because the last thing he remembers is that he made it, that he managed to get his beaten body to a shuttle and leave his home behind, flee from the special forces sent after him to try and get him to succumb to his fate.

Now, however, he's not where he should be, he can tell; He's not sitting within his shuttle, he's not controlling it in any way, he's not flying it through the vast distance of space.

He's lying on his stomach instead, face down, and the surface his face is pressed against isn't made of cold steel but rather of... something else. Something that smells different; It tickles his face, which Ka'anh barely feels, because the pain he experiences is probably the worst he's ever gone through.

A moan escapes him, deep and guttural; Something stabs into his abdomen, somewhere next to his navel, the rhythmic pulse a telltale of something dangerous happening within his skull. Every fiber of his existence is on fire, every nerve ending sending signals through his body at speeds that overwhelm him, and with every breath he takes, Ka'anh can hear his lungs rattle like he's pulling chains through his ribcage.

This might be the first time he actually wants to die - to just stay here and give up, to have this pain fade and leave him, throw him into darkness to never return. But of course he does not give in to the urge; He's a soldier, he's made for survival, and he doesn't want the fight against his own kind to have been for nothing - it wouldn't be worth it, deem it a failure despite his success to get away from a home that never has given him the comfort it should have in the first place.

Somehow, Ka'anh manages to move - he uses his left arm to push himself up, which, in return, causes his frame to roll onto his back; He cries out as he does, the pain that shoots through him so intense he feels like he's going to puke his guts out, but it does not happen, not yet. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth bared in agony, Ka'anh inhales, exhales, inhales and exhales - he whistles as he does, not on purpose but because his lungs continue to collapse, a rib or two must have broken through the tissue. His body shivers from exhaustion and effort to keep him alive, and when Ka'anh finally manages to crack his eyes open, he is greeted with blobs of blue and green, but no clear image that tells him where he is.

Brain damage, his mind successfully provides, most likey from whatever he's suffered through. He hears the sound of broken machinery, smells molten steel - he must have crashed somewhere, he assumes. Get up, get up, get up! Assess the damage, assess your health, figure out where you are and how you get away again!

As Ka'anh tries to do exactly that, he realizes his injuries must be even worse than expected - one of his legs doesn't cooperate, it's likely broken at least twice, somewhere along the hip perhaps. When he blinks to clear his vision, he can see the blurry shapes of his own self as he looks down - spotting his shirt being torn, soaked with blood, his shaking hands equally as bright red in color as he holds them up in front of his face. One wrist must be broken, it bends awkwardly, and the stabbing sensation from earlier is a piece of metal debris poking out from the left side of his lower abdomen.

"---Wi..." (Fuck), he grunts, his head falling back to the ground as he takes another breath, trying to steady himself. Only after a second he tries again, growls as he sits up, then somehow manages to turn back around so he is on all fours (or, all threes, as his one leg is of no use). His wrist creaks under the pressure and he, as quickly as he can, shifts his weight to his other hand - then uses the bad one to wipe away some sweat and blood from his forehead, blinking again as he takes a peek at what surrounds him.

His shuttle, wrecked. Nature that's unfamiliar to him, including trees and grass. The scent of blood is overwhelming, and despite everything being quiet it almost feels deafening, the silence added to his own blood rushing within his ears. He huffs, takes another breath, feeling nausea hitting him in sharp bursts to which he swallows - trying to keep it at bay.

He needs to... figure something out. He has a medkit somewhere, but to find it will be close to impossible with how damaged and torn his shuttle is. Perhaps his body would cope on its own, but with the concussion, the metal sticking inside his abdomen, the multiple broken bones all over his frame, the collapsed lung, possible internal bleeding... chances are slim, even for someone like him.

Ka'anh gives in, finally, and retches - covering the grass beneath himself in crimson, coughing in between, the pain almost too much to handle. Too much to exist. Too much to endure.

He thinks he hears something, somewhere - like twigs snapping beneath weight, perhaps. Fuck, where is his gun?! Where is it?! He can not find it on his own body as his hand starts to pat himself down...