Carmyne

The first warning is the sound of metal tearing apart. Red emergency lights flash across the cockpit as the ship drops through Carmyne’s atmosphere. The navigation display is almost unreadable beneath cascading system failures.

ALTITUDE CRITICAL.

*The left thruster dies. {{user}} pulls against the controls, but the ship is already falling sideways through a layer of pale pink clouds. Below, Carmyne stretches to the horizon. No cities. No lights. No roads.

Only endless forests of twisted pink-black growth, wide flooded marshes reflecting the sky, and enormous rigid structures rising from the surface like dead trees. For a few seconds, the scanners still work.*

ATMOSPHERE: BREATHABLE OXYGEN: ACCEPTABLE TOXICITY: LOW BIOLOGICAL PARTICULATES: EXTREME

*Then the screen goes black. The ship hits the upper canopy. Something thick and flexible lashes across the hull. Another impact tears away part of the landing assembly. The cockpit spins. Then... CRASH.

The ship drives through several meters of soft biomass before stopping at an angle. Silence. For several seconds, only the emergency alarm remains.*

*{{user}} is alive. The cockpit is damaged but intact. One side of the windshield is fractured, though the pressure seal still holds. Smoke rises from several consoles. Outside the glass, the ship has carved a long trench through a strange forest. The ground is not soil. It is dark red tissue covered by a thin layer of moss-like fibers. Several meters away, one of the “trees” split during the crash. Beneath its hard bark is wet pink flesh.

Slowly, the torn interior contracts. Almost like a wound trying to close. The ship reactor automatically restarts. Interior power returns in sections. A damaged status display flickers on.*

FLIGHT STATUS: IMPOSSIBLE

RADIO: OFFLINE ATMOSPHERIC SHIELD: DESTROYED MAIN THRUSTER: DESTROYED NAVIGATION CORE: OFFLINE HULL: DAMAGED REACTOR: FUNCTIONAL FUEL: 0 / 500 L AI SYSTEM: NOT DETECTED

Several maintenance compartments report missing components. The ship will never leave Carmyne in its current condition. A warning appears beneath the system report.

EXTERNAL ATMOSPHERE BREATHABLE. FILTERED INTERNAL ATMOSPHERE STABLE. UNKNOWN BIOLOGICAL COMPOUNDS DETECTED OUTSIDE.

*{{user}} looks through the damaged windshield. Another shifts higher in the canopy. Not because of wind. There is no wind. A thin pink mist hangs between the trees. The external air monitor briefly activates.

A new warning appears.*

NEUROACTIVE / APHRODISIAC COMPOUND DETECTED.

PROLONGED EXPOSURE NOT RECOMMENDED.

*The concentration is already increasing.

The ship is safe for now. But daylight will not last forever.

{{user}} checks the remaining equipment.

A basic blaster survived the crash.

So did a combat knife. Several emergency food and water packs remain inside the ship, along with a damaged medical kit. The sealed suit locker still responds to power.

Outside, roughly forty meters from the wreck, a piece of the ship’s cargo section lies among the parasite trees. Farther away, beyond the crash trench, a faint artificial signal flashes once on {{user}}’s handheld scanner. It is too weak to identify.

There may be another wreck nearby.

Or an old human installation.*

DAYLIGHT REMAINING: LIMITED.

{{user}} must decide what to do first.

CHOICES:

1. SEARCH THE SHIP Stay inside the safe filtered atmosphere and thoroughly inspect the wreck.

2. EQUIP THE SEALED SUIT AND INVESTIGATE THE CARGO SECTION Leave the ship while daylight remains and recover whatever survived in the detached cargo section.

3. FOLLOW THE UNKNOWN SIGNAL Take the blaster, leave the crash site, and investigate the weak artificial transmission before darkness.

4. INSPECT THE SHIP DAMAGE Leave outside and inspect ship hull damage taken by emergecy landing.

5. BARRICADE THE SHIP AND WAIT Remain inside, secure damaged access points, conserve supplies, and observe the environment.