A sᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴘ sʜɪᴘ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ. Tʜᴇ sɪᴛᴇ ɪs ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏ sᴛɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇꜰᴜʟ. Is ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴄᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀs ꜰʀᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴛ.
(Sorry if its a little rambly, I tried to get it out quick)It was early morning as a pair of figures moved quietly in the dense underbrush of the forest. The air still held a considerable chill that made Jonathan wish he had grabbed a jacket before setting out from camp. Turning his head to look at his companion, Jon watched the ease at which the scout moved, slightly envious that she seemed so confident in her footing while he second guessed every rock or twig he stepped on, waiting to either fall or make too loud a noise. Pulling a soft breath into his lungs, Jon quickened his pace to walk alongside Samriah to be able to speak with her. “Are we close yet?” the scavenger questioned. When the ISC: Legacy crashed to Earth on its attempt to return the atmosphere after 300 years apart, a section of the pod broke off and hadn’t been found. Or, hadn’t been found until a week ago. The pair was heading to the site to see whether or not the wreckage had any salvageable parts or even survivors aboard. Stepping over a log in the path, Jon tried to get an idea of where they were in relation to the base camp, far north was all he could tell with the mass of trees and lack of viable sky. The woods all began to look the same to him after a while. While Jon tended to work alone, he often made expectations for the one friend he did have from back on the ISC ship, Samriah. Jon enjoyed scavenging and often devoted much of his time to it since it allowed him time away from the busy base camp. The pair had been walking for the better part of an hour now when Jon noticed a slight constant electrical humming noise further ahead. It seems like the crash site was right where the scout said it would be.
The early morning did not seem to bother the scout, seeing as she seemed bright and alert, though it made sense as she hadn't yet fallen asleep. The entire Drop Pod had been trying to make repairs to the ship, and she was not a stranger to the work either. Samirah had been up looking at the blue prints that had been gifted to her from the lieutenant to see if she could gather any information about peices that looked even remotely like these. The worker had engrained these images into her mind, able to spot them from miles away, not able, or more like not wanting to fall alseep. She hadn't actually gotten a wink of sleep for the past week they had landed. Claimed it was unreasonable, and useless, when there were a myrian of things one could do when awake. A bit of a workaholic, and an insomniac is what she was, but nevertheless, good at her job. As Jonathan crept along to her side, asking a fair question, Samirah didn't answer. Stuck on complete autopilot, completely, and eerily silent. More than usual. Twisting and turning throughout the trees, as if it was simply a corridor on the ISC, they soon arrived hearing the pulsing of the spare engine still running, even a day later after they had found it. "We're looking for these." She said bluntly pulling out her leather journal to give Jon an idea of the parts. They were sketched out completely in detail, names, and what they did. "Any found surviors, you know the drill." The quite literal drill, the ones they had practiced on board of the ISC, before entering Drop Pod 001.
Jonathan wasn’t too surprised when the scout didn’t answer his question, he was accustomed to Samirah’s quiet nature long ago. Sometimes he would go days without hearing her voice even when they spent a good majority of their time near each other. Truthfully, Jon liked the silence most days, but lately a strange uneasiness with it was overtaking his body. He turned his green eyes towards her again and noticed the intense focus the girl was projecting, fully immersed into her role. She wasn’t the head scout by some fluke. The woods were her element, and it showed. The pair continued walking towards the sound when Samirah’s voice startled Jon, his eyes flicking towards the notebook she held. Scanning the sheet, he made mental notes of the parts, nodding his head a moment later. “Always” Jonathan responded back to her as he pulled his part’s bag closer to his side. As the large wreckage came into sight, Jonathan found his eyes widening. A large swath of trees were torn down, large chunks of metal wrapped around their bases and embedded into their bark. Even a few hundred feet away, Jon could feel the chill in his body being chased away by the strong heat the secondary engine still gave off. Smoke rolled off warped pieces of unrecognizable hunks of metal, and Jon found his heart sinking, maybe this wasn’t going to be the treasure trove of parts it was first thought to be.
Still obviously deep in thought, Samirah focused continuously on her job not even complaning about her achilles heal which was so thobbing with pain. She hadn't gotten it checked out because of one valid reason. Pure stubborness. If it wasn't bleeding, broken, or interrupting her from her work, then she saw no reason not to stay on her feet. Putting both forward into scouting out new territories, one that looked familiar in the textbooks she had read, and comepletely barren lands with wildlife that was transmutated into something completely different. Feeling the almost dangerous warmth that took over her body, Samirah went closer to it, almost in the opposite direction of what Jonathan was taking. Yet in the corner of her eyes, she saw a clean peice of metal that seemed to have survived the crash, in oerfect condition gleeming in the sun. The only problem: it was seemingly a bit to high for her height. Mainly, seven feet to high for her small 5'6 frame. Searching for any place where she could reach up and maybe even knock it off onto a patch of forest grass where it would have a less chance of being damaged would help. As she scaled the small metal beam in chances of reaching the crucial part that the engineers claimed that they had needed, and she would get it. Though as she reached for it, it was just a little ways away, touching her fingertips and.... she fell. The result ended up with her back in a few bruises as it hit the metal with a speed unnatural, and a sharp cry to be let out as she made contact with the ground. "JON! J-JONATHAN!" The first few words she had said in day, and they were cries of help. Pathetic.
Pushing down the trepidation he felt, Jonathan broke away from Samirah’s side and found his own path down the precarious wreckage. The pair worked in complete sync, each taking a side, knowing they would meet again in the middle once the work was done. Jon searched pile after pile of wreckage, often kicking large chunks of melted metal to the side to search for any less damaged parts underneath. It look him a while to find anything at all that was salvageable, but eventually a few undamaged tools went into his bag, followed by a fuel canister that make a soft watery sound when he shook it, making Jon assume that there was at least some measure of fuel left inside it still. The heat of the site is what truly concerned Jon, within feet of the site he had already felt the dry and oppressing warmth. He made slow work of scavenging since patches of metal glowed red hot underneath his feet and he did his best to steer clear of them, favoring the cooler outskirts of the crash.He wasn’t too far into his side of the crash site when a loud scream jerked his head up. Before he could even mentally processes what he was doing, Jon found his feet running towards the place where he last saw his friend. “Samirah!” he called out, not paying any mind to the uneven surface he ran upon and how it shifted under his feet, just wanting to get to her side as quick as possible. “Samirah!” he called again as the girl’s prone frame came into view a few meters ahead of him. He could feel his heart threatening to leap from his chest as he scrambled down next to her. Once at her side, his hand brushed gently along her arm in a small manner of comfort as his wide green eyes studied her face in an attempt to assess how badly injured she was. “Are you alright?” he asked quickly, worry dripping into his voice, knowing the question was absurd since she was clearly in pain, but he unsure of what to say in the moment.
Grunting and writhing in pain, Samirah still had time to be dumbfounded at his incredibly idiotic question, even though it was out of pure instinct. "Do I look okay?" She added sharply, before letting out a cry from moving her ankle too much. What would her parents say if they saw her right now? 'Samirah! You dumb girl, why didn't you get your ankle checked out!' She could hear the condecending lilt in thier voices already. "Jon. Get the peice now. You can come back to me, I won't go anywhere, but just get it. I can make my way back to the camp." Her voice was dripping with sleep, or more the lack of it, and up close it was much easier to see the blackish purple that blanketed the bottom of her eyes. Her curly hair was unsually frizzy, and it seemed as though the coffee had worn off after the snap that came from her ankle, clear as day. Grabbing onto the nearest, and sturdiest beam that supported her weight, and leaned herself against it, letting out a sigh of relief. She once more glarred at Jonathan, still focusing on her job instead of her injuries. "Get the damn piece and lets go! We don't have all day Roman!" Letting her usual monotonous voice take on a tone of irritation, Sami began to take in sharp breaths not looking at her right ankle knowing that it would cause more pain. It was unusual for Samirah to use anyone's first name, and she only did if she was close to them; and she most definitely did not use just anyone's nickname. So the fact that she had went fron his name to his last name meant that she was inarguably livid. Not at him, but mostly herself, which was where most of the blame took precedent in her life.
If there was one thing that Jonathan didn’t enjoy, it was being yelled at, and the scavenger bristled slightly at the girl’s dismissive tone. However, the cry from his friend caused his breath to hitch. “Forget the part! You can barely stand Samirah” Jon spoke bewildered. He turned his head slightly at the piece of metal she had fallen trying to grab, and Jon couldn’t understand her fixation. Why she would ever try to reach for it, it was clearly out of her shorter reach, and barely within his. Seeing that the girl was foolishly trying to stand on her own, Jon bent down and placed her arm around his neck, his own arm snaking around her middle. Helping to take the weight of her ankle. “Scream at me all you want, Sammy. I don’t care” he spoke, worry flooding any sense of duty he had for his job. He returned her glare with one of his own. “The part is also not going anywhere, but if you ignore that ankle for any longer you can damage it beyond repair. You're not indestructible. What’s a scout with one leg?” Jon shot back in irritation that she hadn’t told him about her injury, and now was further pushing her limits. He decided that threatening her job would be the one way to get her listen. They could always come back to the crash site, but the Medics couldn’t just make her a new ankle, this wasn’t the ISC, they didn’t have the means or resource for that. His face screwed up slightly when she called him by his last name, something no other has ever done. He knew she was angry, he could feel it roll off of her in waves, but Jon was always loyal first to his friends, and then the ISC.
What did she choose to bring the one of the only people who didn't actually care to be intimidated by her icy glares and commanding voice? Of course, that was one of the few reason Jonathan was her friend. Or perhaps how he even got close to her in the first place. "Jon. A scout with one leg is a scout that can still stand. Just get the piece, it's for the crew!" She struggled to get be released from the grip that was around her waist, but her average strength was depleated at the moment. Feeling weak caused a hidden anxiety to emerge from Samirah, and she broke out into a nervous sweat, not able to move freely. "And, I know I'm not indestructable, but the ship clearly is, and it needs that part for repairs!" Sammy continued to struggle but eventually grew exhausted and began to phant heavily her anxiety beginning to take over her entire body. God, she hadn't had this problem since she was fifteen. Why was it appearing now? Samirah had promised that her past sicknesses wouldn't interfere with her job on Earth, and it hadn't for the most part, but right now it was really messing with her mind. Jonathan was the only one who knew besides the Commander, Lieutenant, and Head Medic, for obvious reasons. "Just, get the peice. Please?" She asked beginning to plead, something that was extremely unheard of coming from someone as headstrong, and stubborn as the scout.
Realizing that arguing was getting the pair nowhere fast, Jonathan huffed slightly in exasperation. He turned his green colored eyes from the scout to the piece of metal, warring with himself over whether or not to leave Samirah’s side. Fearing that Samirah wouldn’t budge if he didn’t grab the part and knowing she was incredibly stubborn, Jon decided to do something completely against his nature. “Fine…” the scavenger ground out, ensuring the girl was stable on her feet before detangling himself from her. Cautiously making his way over to the tall metal structure, Jon pulled a large breath of air into his lungs.Now standing in front of warped wreckage of the ship, Jon was regretting agreeing to retrieving the part. It laid over seven feet above his head, and Samirah had proven it was a perilous climb. Dropping his scavenging bag to the ground with a soft clang, Jon reached up his arm, looking for a hand hold in the metal. Finding one after a moment of searching, Jonathan pulled himself up slightly, feet scrambling for another hold. There were a few things that someone never really had the chance to learn back on the ISC Jon realized once he was couple feet off the ground, and that was that he didn’t particularly like heights. With his new revelation, Jon shot back a glance at Samirah. “I hate this” Jon grumbled out with a nervous lilt to his voice. Groaning when the ground came into his view, Jon’s head whipped back to look at the sky instead. Half way up the metal structure, Jonathan blindly searched for another hold, and he found one which quickly caused his hand to jerk back in pain. He had foolishly grabbed onto a chuck of metal that had been sitting in the harsh sun for days. “Ow!” his hissed with a light swear, pulling his hand to his chest and blowing out a breath over the red skin of his palm, the coolness calming some of the searing pain. “The Engineers better appreciate this” Jon again muttered to himself and he shook his head. Deciding that he was far enough off the ground, Jon instead of searching for another handhold, reached out his arm as far as he could reach. His fingertips brushed against the much-needed part. Stretching a little farther, Jonathan was able to knock the part closer to him where he could grab it. With a small holler of delight, Jon tucked the part under his arm and began climbing down again. Reaching the ground without further event, Jon released a harsh nervous breath, stuffing the part into his bag and returning it to his shoulder. Walking back over to Samirah with a large grin on his face, Jon showed her the part in his bag. “Happy now, Sammy?” he questioned, slightly giddy from the adrenaline running through his veins. He stayed close to her side, as his face watched her in worry. Actually looking at the girl caused Jon’s heart to sink as he noticed the exhaustion on her face, having never realized how tired she must have been since the crash. She was always ready to work, often dragging him through the thick wilds, that Jon never paid much attention to her face since she was always ahead of him. He spent much of his time with her staring at her back and hearing himself ask questions that rarely went answered. Lightly reaching out his non singed hand, Jon placed it lightly against the girl’s elbow. “How can I help?” he spoke softly, vowing in that moment to ensure his friend didn’t push herself too far again.
Hearing that one simple word of agreement, a word of submission, after a quarrel between two headstrong people, was like seeing a shooting star go across the sky in broad daylight. Almost unbelieveable, and slightly shocking. Though the minute Jonathan had set her down, she felt some of her bodywarmth depart along with him. A small shiver ran up and down her spine, leaving her chilly, even with the heat from the low engines still exuding. Samirah knew that she was lucky to have Jon as a friend. He was kind, considerate, and just as stubborn as she was meaning that he could take care of her without feeling bossed around, and even though she hated to admit it, he was right. She could not continue to stretch herself throughout the days, getting up early and going to bed late, and during the time when she was supposed to be asleep, her brain kept working not alloeing herself to heal properly emotionally, and clearly, physically. Her eyes began to shut close when she heard a sharp expression of pain being sharply released into the air, that caused them to snap open. "Jon!" She cried out weakly, begining to move to go and assist him before quickly remembering her ankle that was starting to swell up. Letting loose a small wimper, she silently berated herself, letting out all of her internal anger. You keep doing this to yourself. When are you going to learn? You had to get someone else to do the job because you tripped when doing it. Pathetic. How the hell did you get Head Scout? You don't deserve this position. You don't even deserve to be on this ship, let alone the ISC, you freak of nature. You don't even deserve to be alive. You are supposed to be dead. Her heart hardened continuously as she said those curses to herself, and the sad thing was she believed them all too well. Samirah worked way to hard for someone her age, even for the ISC, she had completed school early and immediately set to work, she didn't really have a childhood, or time when she would goof around on the ISC. All the time, she was either studying, training, or eating her basic meal components. She had somehie hurt Jonathan with her stubborness, allowing her sense of responsibily to harm him made her feel an intense ammount of guilt. Pathetic. she told herself once more, the name rang in her head as if was the name given to her at birth. Running a hand through her insanely curly hair, Samirah had to crack a little smile, or as much of one she could muster at the moment. Watching him successfully return with a near perfect alluminium part in his bag. "Yeah, I am." Letting out a gargantuous yawn, she leaned against the metal pole feeling her weight begin shift once more, the guilt crushing her once more. Now Samirah wasn't often one to give compliments, and she didn't see the need to at least. Yet watching his look of concern on his face and hearing the gentleness in his voice after he was the one who had gotten injured because of her she had to say something. "Thank you, for doing that. You are a great person." The question that came after had really shocked her. Nobody really asked her what they could do to help. She often gave some of her time to do whatever anybody else needed to do, all hands on deck, but one had yet to offer her the same courtesy. "Please. Just, get me to the infirmary." She mumbled, and if it wasn't just the two of them it would have been impossible to hear.
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