621 AS
When they were in basic training, the castaway and his fellow volunteers would often talk about what they would do if they were marooned on a planet. Typically there would be obstacles and challenges thrown in by others to make the person describing what they would do to get flustered and trip up in creating a viable survival scenario.
Not one of those fantasy scenarios involved deserted tropical islands on a warm water world.
It was too comfortable compared to many of the worlds he had visited as an Imperial marine. He found the emergency blanket to be too warm at night and had instead hung it across the doorway of the escape pod to keep the omnipresent light out. So he could at least sleep without the weird light of the planet keeping him awake. The air was warm during the day and night, and the stars were always out. Whenever he was too warm, he would dive into the ocean's water to fish.
He judged, based on what fragments he could remember of the basic planetology course they had given him, that this planet was primarily composed of air, water, and fire. While life elements were a decent sized part of the planetary composition, the planet was not particularly earth aspect. There was a lot more life in the oceans. The planet wasn't terribly cold so that meant that fire and air elements were in rough proportion to each other. Water predominated though.
It was another day, another routine day. He didn't have the knowledge of artifice to fix the escape pod or to fashion a ship from the available materials. So, the castaway went to sleep, leaving a fire to cure and smoke the remains of the day's catch.
Day after day.
---
A pod of void whales had decided to make planetfall, accompanied by families of beacon dolphins with their gems flashing to each other. The void-bound cetaceans paraded down from the sky, diving gracefully into the languid turquoise waters. Each of the void whales were bigger than the patrol cutter he had been on, and capable of sailing the galactic ley lines that linked the stars. And with the amount of things that lived in those streams of raw elemental matter, he could hitch a ride on one of the gentle leviathans and get off this planet.
He didn't know how long he had, so he started packing things like the canned rations and water bottles into a backpack and satchel. Down came the emergency blanket and into the satchel it went. The emergency pressurized shelter was lashed in its rolled up form to the top of the pack, along with the tough cloth tape he would need to keep it affixed to the back of a void whale. Then he donned his aegis armor, since he would need it to survive the airless void, the familiar glove-like fit of it somehow putting him at ease and calming his frantic mind. He hoisted the heavy backpack on with the easy strength granted by the magical enhancements of the armor, and put the large satchel bag's strap across his chest, making sure both were affixed to the harness rings on the armor. The lightning lance was secured firmly in its compacted form on his leg.
He took one last look at the camp that had been his home for the past few months. He checked things off in his head, grabbed the tough survival knife from the rock he had left it on when carving up yesterday's catch and stowed it in the sheath on the armor's chest. Certain he had everything he would need, he spared a moment for the graves. Like any good person would, he said a prayer for the two lost souls, wishing them peace and a swift entrance to their next lives. No need to foster new ghosts.
With his duty to his fallen comrades done, he jogged towards the beach, crashing through the vegetation heavily in his armor. He stopped at the edge of the starlit sand, the sound of surf and whalesong competing with the thunderous beating of his heart. At the edge of the water was a figure in a crimson robe that faded away into the air like waterfall mist, watching the void whales play in the placid waters of the planet. He approached the figure cautiously, plucking the lightning lance from its leg mount and extending it.
"Are you... a survivor?" he asked, hearing the shakiness in his own voice. It had been so long since he had spoken aloud. His voice sounded dusty and unused, hoarse.
"After a fashion. I survived falling through the cracks of the world." The voice sounded too perfect, too uncannily controlled. Like somebody was pretending to be a person. The castaway's reaction was to fire the lightning lance, white electricity leaping forth from it. The figure blew apart into a flurry of red-winged butterflies and black foam, leaving only a porcelain white mask with a horrible smile and spatters of blood lying on the beach. High keening laughter filled the air around the castaway as the world around him grew dark and receded away from him, snatching away his breath and pulling him to his knees.
He work up terrified and bolted upright, smashing his head on the bunk above and rattling the supplies he'd stowed up there. Eyes swimming with bright spots of pain, he regained his senses and realized there were no voidwhales or beacon dolphins. That he had either dreamed them or the stranger had chased them off somehow.
After a spell spent contemplating what had happened, he walked outside into the glare of the planet's light. The wind was moaning low through the trees and the air around him was filled with the rustling of the leaves and brush. He knew that he would need to spend the day preparing for the storm that was coming.
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