[pre]where am I[/pre] [h1]/accessing memorybank/[/h1] [h2]/creating new memory[/h2] [h3]///STARTING MEMORY RECORDING. . .[/h3] [center]DAY 292, YEAR UNKNOWN, DATE UNKNOWN[/center] --------------------------/ [i]Wrrrrrrrrrrr...[/i] [pre]"damn it."[/pre] SAM laid there on the floor, face down, violently sprawled out. Based on the previous memory recording he made, the attempt to steer the ship to civilization didn't quite come into fruition. At least, when you look at the bright side, the ship seems to not be exploding or hurtling through space. Actually, there were quite a lot of fortunate events that came from that little mishap, the cargo barge was not completely obliterated by the potential meteoroids also whisking through the star-laden void. SAM also could have landed on a planet that was improper for human, or any form of life. Perhaps he landed a mere mile away from the nearest city or hamlet, he could jog that distance, he did it all the time. Enough speculation, it was time to make an informed opinion about his situation. SAM kicked off a drab green crate that fell onto him presumably from the crash landing. Something seems different about the ship, the floor has slightly less blood stains that he remembered it having. Something catches his eye, or rather the lack of something; the control panel. It had simply vanished seamlessly. He strides over to where it used to be. Wait a second... SAM looks up at the ceiling. There he saw the control panel. Well, it was clear the ship landed in an unusual way, but this sprung forth an idea. The ramps to unload crates and such were on the bottom of the ship, there was a convenient little button panel right next to the ramps. All that was needed was a solution to flick some tiny silver switches. The switches would be a painless matter of throwing something and if your aim was sharp, it would open. The problem came with how to actually get up there. Or, perhaps someone will find the crashed ship? No, only scavengers or raiders would even consider a downed cargo vessel. A rescue crew would be more desirable. Execute phase 1... Within a few minutes, a sizable bolt was chucked at an arch at the control pad. [i]Ping.[/i] It just nearly missed the main switch. The cargo bay ceiling was considerably higher up, or in this case, lower to the ground than SAM had thought. If at first you don't succeed... [i]Clonk.[/i] A miscellaneous pipe or bar he had found struck the panel with a echoing metallic clatter, vaguely in the area of the green-capped switch. It was too high up to get a clear view to see if it worked. A slow, squeaking cry emanated from the ceiling before it turned to a roaring, groaning screech. A ray of sunlight pierced, thin as a sheet of glass, through the gap in the ramp. He had a hinting notion that it was sunrise outside. A good portion of the bay was now basked in light. Phase 1 successfully executed... Now, how to get up through this new opening? Those wires for the floodlights look about as big as a rope... [i]Swisssh... Clink.[/i] Execute phase 2... A black strand flies towards the sky, with three broken tripod legs tied to resemble and function like a standard grapnel. SAM tracks it as it soars towards the ramp, a child watching his kite dart through the park. The sunlight obscured the hook, though, it was hard to see if it was going to actually land- [i][b]CLONK.[/b][/i] It bounced off his visor and onto the floor. Loosening his grip on the cables, SAM swung the hook around like a lasso before trying again to land it on the ramp. Just like he previously thought, if at first you don't succeed. He waited in anxiety, premeditating if it would rebound off his visor again. It did not. With a hard tug, the makeshift mountain climbing gear held strong and sturdily. SAM pounced onto the cable and was hiking up it with grit and persistence. The reward of simply getting out of his crashed prison was enough motivation for him. The straining vigor of the light only grew more intense as he was closer before he saw what lay before him on the outside... Sand. Sand for miles and miles, nothing in sight except for sand. But SAM didn't care, at least not at the moment. The rush still painted his view of the situation as a triumph. Even as he realized that this was barely an improvement, his confidence did not wane. Climbing atop the underbelly of the great unnamed ship, he proudly stood over the desert dunes. But, it would be a while before someone or something contacts him, so he would have to play more of the waiting game. The [i]wrrrr...[/i] fades out. [h3]///ENDING MEMORY RECORDING. . .[/h3]