The adventure continues as the crew of the cargo ship Icarus narrowly escape a deadly collision.
1800hrs. 14th Oct. 413P.C. On the surface of Bronos, the island of Baro-Lii.
“Get that damn light out of my face!”
Captain Vizirov sat up slowly, cringing from the sharp pain in his forehead. He touched a hand to his head and quickly drew back three fingertips covered in blood. Everything was spinning. It looked like someone had covered his eyes with film, a thick grey haze that he could not blink away at first, try as he might. A tall figure stood over him, shining a light in his eyes. It was Jaime – the ship’s medical officer.
“Sir, you need to lay back,” Jaime said, flicking the flashlight down at her feet. “You may have a concussion.”
The Captain ignored her. “Dullard, status report.” He blinked hard and got to his feet, the haze finally beginning to recede. “Dullard!”
“He’s below deck checking the ship with the rest of the crew. You took a pretty nasty blow to the head when we– um, landed, sir.”