“Pull up!” Ammash shouted, entirely out of instinct. Between the both of them it was quite likely that Rath was the better pilot. This salient fact did little to alleviate the terror in her belly, while the ship crashed into the surface. They had only seen a small patch of earth on their way down, but the field was unmistakably a farm.
It took a short eternity for the ship, with its four rattled crew members, to come to a stop. Ammash was almost impressed that they had not yet died. The heat rising from the molten belly of the craft was still keeping that possibility available.
As she kicked out the hatch she could see the fresh air rushing in to greet them. It had occurred to her to wear an exposure suit, but it wouldn’t matter much either way. If the air was toxic the suit would only delay that death for a few hours. As Ammash looked back she could see the rest of the crew’s bare faces had adopted an equally pessimistic outlook. The foreign breeze struck their faces only moments after Ammash broke the seal. Tetlee seemed to be the only one who had reservations about going out of the searing ship, but the fear of being left behind and cooked was enough to motivate her.
Where Ammash had expected to see a fertile farm she saw something entirely different. For at least fifty paces around the ship lay nothing but ash and embers still glowing as a symbol of their impact. It took Ammash a moment to realize that the farm they had seen from the sky had been almost entirely decimated by their hot landing.
She stepped off the ship. Her boots made an unexpected crunch on the crisp ground. Blackened soil surrounded her while she desperately tried to understand her new world. Far from them grew stretches of trees which made the scene seem almost picturesque, if one could overlook the still burning stems of vegetation recently incinerated. The smell of burnt plants almost distracted her from the distant sight of someone rushing towards them from the nearby structure. If she had studied history a little harder she may have recognized it as a primitive earth homestead, complete with thatched roof and all.
The brownish roof made the small hut seem cozy, in spite of it’s now unfortunate surrounding. Coming ever closer was a single figure dressed in a simple yet elegant white gown. Despite knowing better the crew felt she would have been suited to a peasant wedding. She rushed across the field to meet them with a degree of haste which suggested either rage or concern. It was neither.
As Sar made her way to the strange craft she could hardly contain her interest. She knew it was rude to stare but her lips adamantly refused to form any coherent words, and simply grunting at these new landers was certainly rude. Even thought it would seem startling she had no better option but to rush to them. This was quickly followed by staring blankly trying to think of something valuable to say.
Her mind landed on the simple word, “welcome.”
It hardly suit the situation, but it did a lot better than just continuing to stare.
As it turns out a star ship crashing in a field is anything but discrete. Sar was not the only habitant who had noticed the fallen bird amongst a burning field. It did not take long before they were surrounded by a gathering greater than Ammash or her crew would have liked.