The pain in his neck and the icy feeling of the soaked cloth on his forehead trigger another shift in memory, and Jim comes back to awareness in a cramped escape pod, his shoulder aching where that pointy-eared bastard nerve pinched him. His broken hand throbs unpleasantly, but it's honestly the least of his concerns as his eyes focus, and he realizes he's looking through frost on the glass escape hatch.
Frost? "Ugh, computer, where am I?" he asks, a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Location: Delta Vega," the computer replies pleasantly. "Class M planet. Unsafe. There is a Starfleet outpost fourteen kilometers to the northwest. Remain in your pod until the arrival of summoned authorities."
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Jim leans forward, now aware that the escape pod is sitting at a skewed angle, to get a look out the hatch. The escape pod has carved a hole in the snow and ice, making a rough pit almost thirty feet deep. An easy climb, if it was rock. But it looks cold as fuck, and he has no climbing gear, but fuck no he's not staying put. He digs through the emergency gear to find the cold weather pack, but there's no way he'll be able to climb up after he bundles up.
The icy temperature blasts through the pod as he opens the hatch, and he slings the pack over his back as he scrambles out of the pod and reaches for the ice wall. "Hurry the hell up," he mutters to himself, "unless you want frostbite." His broken hand screams with the strain, but he can't afford not to use it, shivering violently as he scales the wall barehanded.
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Frost? "Ugh, computer, where am I?" he asks, a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Location: Delta Vega," the computer replies pleasantly. "Class M planet. Unsafe. There is a Starfleet outpost fourteen kilometers to the northwest. Remain in your pod until the arrival of summoned authorities."
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Jim leans forward, now aware that the escape pod is sitting at a skewed angle, to get a look out the hatch. The escape pod has carved a hole in the snow and ice, making a rough pit almost thirty feet deep. An easy climb, if it was rock. But it looks cold as fuck, and he has no climbing gear, but fuck no he's not staying put. He digs through the emergency gear to find the cold weather pack, but there's no way he'll be able to climb up after he bundles up.
The icy temperature blasts through the pod as he opens the hatch, and he slings the pack over his back as he scrambles out of the pod and reaches for the ice wall. "Hurry the hell up," he mutters to himself, "unless you want frostbite." His broken hand screams with the strain, but he can't afford not to use it, shivering violently as he scales the wall barehanded.