Datapad Disruption Due to Excessive Mositure Exposure…
They say that when disaster strikes you have to strike back. That’s certainly what the Empire did after Yavin. Their hammer fell and fell hard on us at Hoth. Now the Alliance is regrouping at a location I will not name here. They’ve been harried, harassed, and hunted ever since we took out their planet busting space-station.
That was a walk in the park next to what has happened to me lately. Honestly, I don’t know if I have the energy to strike back at my own situation. It’s all so, I don’t know, overwhelming.
So when I last wrote I was looking forward to getting cleaned up and then setting about finding this great warrior so that I can learn the stuff that Ben always wanted to teach me. Kiss that dream goodbye.
So there I am, taking my fighter in for a landing, not having received any coordinates or even a hail from panet-side nav com. As I enter the atmosphere everything gets bantha blasted at once. Extreme white-out conditions overtake my ship and we’re thrown about in the worst atmospheric turbulence I’ve ever felt. I was like I’d picked up a whole blasted herd of Tuskens who decided to jump, jive, and jizz-wail on the s-foils – while they were tearing the ship apart. All my scopes were dead, I couldn’t see a thing. Repeated attempts to raise anyone on the com went unanswered. Even R2 couldn’t pick up anything. Anything! Sure, he was able to pick up plenty of life, the planet positively shivered with writhing ecosystems, but there was no com signal on the tight beam or broad beam or any other channel, even the military ones. I assumed everything on this side of the planet had probably been taken out in the storm I was landing in. The thought never crossed my mind, amidst the frantic, blaring, destabilized, white-out descent, that these hemispheric sized storms were regular on Dagobah.
Well, suffice it to say that I threw training and protocol to the wind (or rather, the storms took it) and I threw down my landing gear and engaged my repulsorlifts if only to slow my descent. It’s a good thing I did too, because no sooner had I done that, that we slowed (a bit) and slammed down through wet trees and viney tangles and crashed right into a swamp. A blasted tusken spitting swamp!. Flipping awesome landing, Skywalker. The old boys of Red Squadron would be whooping it up and cracking jokes about “farm-boys and technology” if they saw this.
The entire front end is submerged. I think the nose gear found the bottom of the mudhole and, after it did some initial settling, is stable. At least the cockpit is dry. As long as the engines stay clean and contaminate free, I should be ok. I would have moved the ship, if there was a place to move it to. There is a clear flight path through the trees diagonally down into where I made “splash down” but the problem is that there is no place to park the ship, much less turn it around. The boys at Incom haven’t deigned to put in a reverse thruster configuration so that one could fly backwards. Thanks for the forethought guys! It would really come in handy right about now.
So once I was down, I was down and I tried to be optimistic. I’ll admit, I’ve failed. This place is the pits. R2 was attacked by something (huge) as we disembarked but he was spit out onto a mud bank. It’s a good thing he doesn’t taste too good.. I was able to set up camp without too much trouble, I got R2 recharging and was able to start unpacking some of my emergency survival gear. I’ve got to give credit where credit is due – the Incom survival stock task force was able to maximize the small storage space in the X-wing and provide nearly everything a stranded pilot could need. Including a manual: “Stranded Pilot Push-Ups and Other Cast-Away Calisthenics” I am soooooo glad they managed to fit that in there. I mean, really, the thing I am thinking most about here is sculpting my physique. Morons.