Rite Of Passage

Marooned on a Desert Planet. A human finds a half-buried Ship in the sand.

Jarden knew he was in trouble. All systems seemed to be malfunctioning: Controls, Communications, Life Support. Ahead of him, the second planet in this system, one of Dust and Rock, loomed in front of his eyes and was coming up fast to meet him. He barely had time to get into his Life support space suit.

The outside of the ship took on a Red hue, radiating up from the planet's surface. Then the crash. Hitting the sand with the impact of a bomb exploding, Jarden bounced off the control panel. The seatbelt did little to keep him from harm. If there were no broken bones in his chest, then he would be badly bruised. Being knocked out, he had no way to know if the enemy had followed him down to finish the job they had started a light year away.

He woke up later and did not know if only minutes had passed or it had been hours. The one he did know for sure was that his ship had its final burst of glory. Now it is a pile of junk smashed into the sand on a planet he knew nothing about. He had survived the crash, but would he survive this Planet? That is the trillion-dollar question for which he had no answer.

Crawling from the wreckage took some time and planning. He would need some key things for survival, and most of them were under pieces of a wrecked spaceship. That his suit was intact with no rips, and the helmet was not cracked to leak out what precious oxygen he had, a major factor in his survival.

The canope was broken in many places, so he busted the rest of the way out to have better access to the outside. With deliberate movements, not to tax his strength and life support, he gradually rummaged through his ship and made ready to explore his new home, such as it was. The homing beacon he took out of the spaceship, as it would do nobody any good to come to his rescue and find only a smashed, beyond-repair ship of the fleet.

Saying goodbye to his ship, his companion through many battles, was like saying goodbye to an old friend. He walked away into the sandy landscape toward a distant point, a point he picked out by closing his eyes and pointing in that direction. The sand beneath his boots varied from being as hard as rock to almost like water, swallowing up every step he took.

Jarden could not see any mountains to indicate rock formations, only sand hills, to be swept about by a wind that was gentle at times and fierce when not. Up and down small hills, he trudged, always wondering what was over the horizon. As he got to the top of another hill, he could see off in the distance a huge sand hill. One he could think of as a Mountain. He set his sights on that mountain of sand and put one foot in front of the other.

Jarden did not look back behind him; he figured there was no reason, his ship was miles in the past. Had he bothered to take the time, he would have seen the sand move as something slithered beneath it, and that slithering followed him. It would stop when he did. In time, he would find out he would be in the Battle of his life. A battle not to live with what he had been given, but to survive.

The Orlon beneath the sand hunted by vibrations, and the thing making all that noise above it sounded delicious. It could not wait to wrap itself around the intruder, squeeze its razor-sharp spikes into it, secreting a neurotoxin that paralyzed its victim, but letting it be alive as it ate the victim.

Jarden paused as he checked his life support. Those two suns were scorching, but his suit kept him at a controlled cool temperature. The outside readings showed the temperature was over a hundred and fifty degrees and rising. He needed to find some kind of shelter, and soon, his suit could only do so much. He did not want to be broiled to death.

The next hill of sand and rock rose higher than the other ones he had already crossed. Steadily, he climbed toward the top, figuring on getting his bearings and then deciding where to go next. He came to a section where he had to climb over some rocks protruding from beneath the sand.

Between a couple of rocks, he saw something that looked metallic in nature. Moving them aside as best as he could, he had found part of an old spaceship. He wondered how big the piece of metal was, but he had to find shelter first from the heat of the two suns. So, he now knew others had visited this planet, and maybe what they had left behind would help him out. He continued his climb to the top, and finally, he stood on the top of the massive sand hill.

He looked around and below him, the area at the bottom of the hill seemed to be a hard sandy plain. Upon closer inspection, something seemed to be sticking out of this sand hill. Maybe it could shelter him from the two suns. Jarden wondered if this planet had a cycle of night. He imagined if it did, the night cycle would be freezing temperatures. He would worry about that later.

Down the hill, he moved one foot before the other. Each step swallowed up by the sand two inches into the hill. He had to take his time; otherwise, he would fall and roll all the way to the bottom, an easy four hundred feet. If he did fall, the sand would clog up his rebreather, the only oxygen he had, and that would not last long, a few days at the most, unless he could find someplace to take off his suit and replace the filters.

The Orlon had lost track of its prey as it reached the top of the sand hill. It felt slight vibrations, and the Orlon started in that direction, its body pushed along by the spikes along all sides of its body and the muscles beneath the skin. It wiggled like an earthworm or a Snake.

Jarden paused halfway down, and the Orlon gained ground.

He continued on his way. Soon, he reached the thing sticking out of the sand. He froze in place as he recognised it to be a ship, a ship which he had never seen before. Definitely Alien. With caution, he stepped closer. Damaged, but still intact for the part he could see.
He reached out and touched it, hoping he would not lose his hand in the process. So far, so good. Jarden ran it over a large enough section to realise it is made of no metal he knew of. He stood on an Alien vessel. He laughed, the first time in a long time.

The ship's hull stretched above him in a curving outward radiance, and for the moment, he was out of the two Suns' glaring heat. One problem had been solved, if only temporarily. He would take the win and go onward. He sat down with his back against the hull and fell asleep. He did not know how tired his body had actually been. He thought he was in great shape, and he was. Anybody else probably would have already given up and died.

As he slept, he did not see the Orlon poking its head out of the sand at the edge of the ship's hull. Though in reality it was blind, it could see through inferred appendages sticking out half an inch from its body. Wiggling, it climbed a foot over the edge and then raced backward, as the heat radiating off the metal burned it. The Orlon left behind a smear of purple, thick and mucous in consistency. Hurt, but not out of the fight, it retreated to heal itself, and that would take a bit of time. It has been decades since the Orlon had been hurt, and in fact, by the inhabitants of this particular vessel.

How long he had slept, Jarden knew not, but he was refreshed when he woke. Hungry and thirsty for sure, as his suit only had basic rations for a limited time in the spacesuit, and he was sure he had already passed that time hours ago. Those who had designed and made this suit would have been impressed. Too bad they were not doing the experiment, he thought to himself. He wondered how the war was going for the Galactic Empire, of which Earth was only a small portion.

Standing and waiting for the fainting spell to pass, he leaned against the hull. Then he noticed the wind had picked up in strength, and particles of sand began to hit him with force, a force that warranted concern. He had to find shelter from the windstorm. Glancing out across the plain before him, he saw the rolling storm of dust hurrying toward him, a hurricane of sand and small rocks.

Jarden moved his hand a foot to the right, and a section of the hull opened beneath his feet. Where it led, he did not care as the storm soon would reach him. It seemed large enough to accommodate his suit, and he entered. Down a few steps, he went until his head cleared the doorway. It slid back into place as the storm hit full fury outside. He stood where he was to gather his senses. The light on his suit came on automatically. It showed him a midsize room that held lockers along each side, a few standing open and empty. Others were closed, a few had strange-looking locks on them. He would have to investigate them later on.

Opening the nearest locker, Jarden found a spacesuit the likes of which he had never seen before and a hologram picture of a family, somewhat human, but definitely Alien. Those staring back at him looked friendly enough. From what he could tell, it was a man and three women, two far younger than the other. Jarden wondered if they still lived or he would eventually find their bodies mummified inside this ship. Putting the pic back, he found a light source, a chemical stick, three of them in fact. He took all three, placing two in his pocket and snapping and shaking the remaining one, it immediate began to shine bright. It showed more of his surroundings than the light on his suit.

Opening more lockers, Jarden found a knapsack and more of the chemical sticks, twenty in all. He could hear the storm blasting against the hull outside, thankful to be inside, though he did not know what lay before him. At least he was out of the two Suns. As he reached the end of the room, a panel slid open, revealing a corridor that stretched before him beyond his line of sight. Pausing only a moment, he walked through, and it slid closed behind him.

The walls were smooth, or so it seemed to him. Slowly, he stepped forward. The chem light showed what appeared to be light panels inside the walls. He wondered if any of them still worked, as the chem light could only last so long. Maybe he would find a control panel. The corridor came to a junction of two others leading in opposite directions. Here he paused, not bothering to leave any mark of his passing. Would he switch to another corridor or continue straight ahead? For the moment, he decided to go straight ahead.

He went forward past the junction and no longer heard the raging storm outside. How large was this ship? Was there anybody left, and if there was, what would his reception be? What species would he find?

Soon, he found doors along each side of the corridor. This was something new. He stood before a door that was numbered #1907. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he turned and opened it. The room beyond seemed to be a laboratory of some kind that appeared to concentrate on Plant life. Not of this Planet for sure. This species must have been explorers. Interesting? He would have to remember this room to be investigated later on.

Closing the door behind him, Jarden continued down the corridor, pausing here and there to open a door. Crew quarters and a Mess Hall, one of a few he would find. In the Mess Halls were store rooms filled with enough supplies to last years. A computer console on the wall interested him and he wondered if there was any power left in the ship. Seemed to be a standard console, so he hit the power-up button and the lights flickered on. Now to see what he could do. He turned on the lights in the Mess Hall, and surprisingly, they worked. Still, he would not throw away the chemical sticks. You never knew when they would come in handy.

Checking the regulator on his suit, the air seemed breathable with no lasting effects on his body. So, taking a chance, he removed his helmet and the seal hissed as it unlocked. At least the air here in this room he could breathe. He looked over the supplies in the storeroom and found rations he had eaten before and bottles of water, which he grabbed a few. Sitting down at a table, he opened a bottle and took a taste. finding it to be normal to a human, he downed it without stopping. Then he ate the rations to settle his stomach. He filled the knapsack with food rations and water.

As he did not know what the air situation would be outside of this room, he snapped his helmet back in place before exiting. After finding water and food, he no longer seemed to be out of place inside this Alien ship, and that was strange indeed. He had to find some kind of map to find the control bridge and hopefully working computers. Logistics, life support, weapons, engines, and flight controls. Maybe if he was lucky he would find some of the occupants, and they would not kill him on sight.

On the wall next to the room he had left, a map detailing the passageways and where the most important sections could be found. He noted the way toward the Bridge and headed off down the corridor. Jarden ignored the closed and open doorways he passed by. Time stood still as far as he was concerned. The only thing that mattered was the Bridge of this ship, and hopefully, answers to any of the questions running through his head.