Steely
Tactical Imbecile
Kiratta felt like dying.
Her head spun around incessantly, making her stomach twirl and twist, threatening to force its contents out her mouth. An oppressing heat blanketed her whole body, made worse by the flight suit's fabric. Weakly, she propped her shoulders on whatever surface she was thrown on, letting out a nauseous moan before collapsing again. This time, a more spirited attempt to get back on her feet was met with a stunning loss of balance, and the orange-clad woman fell like a ragdoll, rolling down a steep dune. She came to a rough stop, her face grazed by the rough, hot sand under her, ripping out another pained sound from her throat.
Wait, sand?!
Fueled by her growing annoyance towards her discomfort, she summoned enough strength to sit on her ankles, gloved hands caressing her irritated cheeks. Her eyes were immediately assaulted by a bright light, prompting her to cover her eyes and avert her gaze back to the ground. A meek breeze caressed her face for a moment, and then died, bringing only a handful of sand onto her suit's bright colors. Questions flooded the pilot's mind, enough to distract her from the nausea that tormented her stomach, and she got herself back on her feet, stumbling from side to side before recovering her balance once again. The sight before her eyes made her heart stop for a good moment. "This can't be real."
Burning under the glaring sun, a seemingly endless desert stretched as far as the eye could see. The sand of the dunes shifted ever so slightly with the little gusts of wind that caressed them, their yellowish color untainted as not a cloud resided in the sky to cast a single shadow. Had she wound up in Tatooine? Kiratta closed her eyes for a moment, trying to recall what she was doing before she simply wound up here. And the more she recalled, the less sense her situation made. She was currently on break after a week long operation against an Imperial fleet, already fast asleep in the White Squadron's quarters when she simply... dropped here.
She inhaled deeply, shoving her thoughts to the back of her mind before climbing back to the top of the dune she rolled off. The view wasn't exactly the most advantageous, but at least she got a better idea of her surroundings. And in all honesty, she hoped she hadn't taken the smallest of peeks. There was no sign of anything - or anyone - at all. She was, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. Her stomach froze with fear, and cold sweat soon started to coat her face, hands shakily moving up to wipe her forehead dry.
All was not lost, perhaps. Just as desperation started to settle in, she spotted a form standing in the distant, amid the dunes, challenging even the distortions provided by the heat. Even if it wasn't a person, it could be enough to lead her somewhere less inhospitable. Reinvigorated, the pilot started to move at a determined pace, somewhere between a jog and a fast walk.
Thankfully, since the moment she mysteriously arrived at this lifeless expanse, nothing came at her. The loneliness was, for once, eerie. It didn't help that, the more she walked, the more lost she felt, specially since there was no sign of a settlement or another being in sight. Even if the circumstances were more than suspicious, the Undead didn't seem so fazed by it. The shifts in time and space ever so present in her world meant that she could be transported from one place to the other in little time. It was perhaps the only problem that didn't worry the Astoran.
Just as she reached the top of the dune, a man's voice echoed through the air, causing her to whip her head in its general direction. Without wasting any time, she began to sprint towards where she assumed the voice was coming from, resting her large sword on her shoulder while her free hand was held up in the air, trying to make herself as visible as possible. "Hello?!" She screamed, letting her voice echo before trying again. "Is anyone there?!" There was a bout of consciousness, and she silenced herself for a moment. It could be a trap, for all she knew. But it's still a way of finding another living being around here. "Hello?!"
Her head spun around incessantly, making her stomach twirl and twist, threatening to force its contents out her mouth. An oppressing heat blanketed her whole body, made worse by the flight suit's fabric. Weakly, she propped her shoulders on whatever surface she was thrown on, letting out a nauseous moan before collapsing again. This time, a more spirited attempt to get back on her feet was met with a stunning loss of balance, and the orange-clad woman fell like a ragdoll, rolling down a steep dune. She came to a rough stop, her face grazed by the rough, hot sand under her, ripping out another pained sound from her throat.
Wait, sand?!
Fueled by her growing annoyance towards her discomfort, she summoned enough strength to sit on her ankles, gloved hands caressing her irritated cheeks. Her eyes were immediately assaulted by a bright light, prompting her to cover her eyes and avert her gaze back to the ground. A meek breeze caressed her face for a moment, and then died, bringing only a handful of sand onto her suit's bright colors. Questions flooded the pilot's mind, enough to distract her from the nausea that tormented her stomach, and she got herself back on her feet, stumbling from side to side before recovering her balance once again. The sight before her eyes made her heart stop for a good moment. "This can't be real."
Burning under the glaring sun, a seemingly endless desert stretched as far as the eye could see. The sand of the dunes shifted ever so slightly with the little gusts of wind that caressed them, their yellowish color untainted as not a cloud resided in the sky to cast a single shadow. Had she wound up in Tatooine? Kiratta closed her eyes for a moment, trying to recall what she was doing before she simply wound up here. And the more she recalled, the less sense her situation made. She was currently on break after a week long operation against an Imperial fleet, already fast asleep in the White Squadron's quarters when she simply... dropped here.
She inhaled deeply, shoving her thoughts to the back of her mind before climbing back to the top of the dune she rolled off. The view wasn't exactly the most advantageous, but at least she got a better idea of her surroundings. And in all honesty, she hoped she hadn't taken the smallest of peeks. There was no sign of anything - or anyone - at all. She was, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. Her stomach froze with fear, and cold sweat soon started to coat her face, hands shakily moving up to wipe her forehead dry.
All was not lost, perhaps. Just as desperation started to settle in, she spotted a form standing in the distant, amid the dunes, challenging even the distortions provided by the heat. Even if it wasn't a person, it could be enough to lead her somewhere less inhospitable. Reinvigorated, the pilot started to move at a determined pace, somewhere between a jog and a fast walk.
...
Agatha grunted as she made her way up a particularly steep dune, her steps sinking into the sand thanks to the weight of her armor. While Undead weren't susceptible to thirst or hunger, the heat still acted up on her. She lifted her visor for a moment, taking a deep breath before pressing forward. Her entire body felt like it was shoved in an oven, courtesy of all the metal and leather protecting her. Not only that, but she kept her guard up: while to some common traveler a desert was the perhaps the safest place to travel on given you have the appropriate equipment and knowledge, the dunes leading to the Far East proved to be one of the deadliest places she ever set her foot upon.
Thankfully, since the moment she mysteriously arrived at this lifeless expanse, nothing came at her. The loneliness was, for once, eerie. It didn't help that, the more she walked, the more lost she felt, specially since there was no sign of a settlement or another being in sight. Even if the circumstances were more than suspicious, the Undead didn't seem so fazed by it. The shifts in time and space ever so present in her world meant that she could be transported from one place to the other in little time. It was perhaps the only problem that didn't worry the Astoran.
Just as she reached the top of the dune, a man's voice echoed through the air, causing her to whip her head in its general direction. Without wasting any time, she began to sprint towards where she assumed the voice was coming from, resting her large sword on her shoulder while her free hand was held up in the air, trying to make herself as visible as possible. "Hello?!" She screamed, letting her voice echo before trying again. "Is anyone there?!" There was a bout of consciousness, and she silenced herself for a moment. It could be a trap, for all she knew. But it's still a way of finding another living being around here. "Hello?!"