“We’re about to hit the ground! Brace for impact!”
The shuttle descended through the air, smoke billowing from the damaged thrusters as blasts of energy filled the sky behind them. Tandon Fell, a young man who simply wanted to escape the world that had brought him so much pain, sat near the back of the damaged vessel with gritted teeth and white knuckles as the passengers on board all cried out in terror as the Tarisian surface rapidly grew closer and closer. The sounds of Sith fighters following the carnage echoed around them as a reminder of what the armada had come here to do. There would be no mercy, it seemed. Not even the innocents would be allowed to flee.
The shuttle hit the ground, throwing nearly everyone from their seats as the wreckage skidded along the platform before coming to a complete stop as it slammed into the base of one of the world’s glittering towers. It wasn’t sparkling lights that illuminated the tower this day however, as fire had engulfed much of what was above the surface. The collision of the shuttle and tower would shake a great deal of debris free, raining down on the grounded refugees.
Tandon’s head would ring as he struggled to push himself to his feet. The warm sensation of blood oozing from a freshly opened wound on his forehead reminded him that he was still alive, a fact that he could not say for certain for the remaining passengers. Their screams of fear were silenced, only the sounds of fire and war existing beyond the downed craft. As his mind cleared, the boy could see the bodies of the others surrounding him. Many were dead, others knocked unconscious like himself though they were beginning to stir. The pilot wasn’t even visible any longer. In his place was a giant hole through the screen. It would seem he had been thrown from the wreck and only the higher powers knew where he would have landed.
Coughing, Fell soon found his footing and stumbled his way to the access hatch. The ship’s power was cut, keeping him and the other survivors as they awoke in place. Frustrated, Tandon slammed his fist into the wall with a loud bark of anger.
“What are we going to do?!”
“This thing is going to get crushed! We need to get out of here!”
Turning back to the cockpit, Tandon pointed in it’s direction.
“That way! Crawl through the glass! Go!” the man yelled as he began ushering any survivors in it’s direction. The refugees, with a cattle-like mentality, followed the demand without question and began to pile into the pilot’s cabin. Blood decorated the tips of the shattered visor but any remaining shards were soon busted out as the survivors crawled through and to the surface. Last to escape, Tandon jumped to the ground with a tumble, discovering that his left leg had been cut. Grimacing in pain, he held the wound and fell to his side. From this position, he could see the crimson colored sky. Smoke swelled, explosions echoed.
His home would be destroyed, regardless of the outcome of the invasion...