A hot, stabbing pain ran through him and left him gasping for air.  He tried to open his eyes but had to squeeze them tightly shut as the pain centered in the middle of his forehead.
     Slowly he reopened his eyes, which watered painfully in the bright light that was shining into the cockpit.  It actually hurt to think but something about sunlight shining into a spacecraft and waking him up… felt… wrong.  The fact that green trees were outside the broken windows was also disturbing.
     Struggling to sit up his harness cut into his already bruised chest and shoulders.  Gritting his teeth he wiped a hand across his forehead and it came away with blood.
     A groan from behind him caught his attention and he fought with the harness in order to look in the seat behind him.
     Finally breaking free of the restraining device he twisted in his seat, inhaling sharply as the pain centered in his left arm.  But he quickly forgot all about his discomfort when he saw who was in the back seat.  Cowboy….
     It all came back to him, slowly, like the remnants of a foggy dream.  They were on their own for the fourth time doing sweeps of the sector as practice flights.  The red warning lights had flooded the cockpit a malfunction in the computer.  Cowboy had tried to radio for help but Lance, who’d been focused on landing them on an oxygen-based planet he couldn’t remember the name of, wasn’t sure if he’d gotten through or not.
     Facing forward again he pulled the hatch-release lever, causing the hatch of the cockpit to move upward with a screech of metal.
     Fighting sudden sense of nausea he turned back to look at Cowboy. Funny how he couldn’t remember the blond’s real name… he thought as he slid along the side, perching with a leg on either side of the back of his seat as he examined the unconscious pilot for injuries.
     He almost sighed in relief as he determined that Cowboy probably hadn’t sustained internal injuries as he’d previously thought.
     A trickle of something thicker and stickier than sweet slid down Lance's forehead near his eyes and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.  Satisfied that Cowboy had suffered only a concussion and minor scrapes and bruises.
     Unbuckling the first aid kit under his seat, careful not to jar his broken arm, Lance opened and removed some bandages and an injection to ward off infection.  Carefully he dressed the deeper cuts that Cowboy had before giving him the injection.  It wasn’t easy and he had to prop his left arm up so that he could use both hands in process.
     He wasn’t going to be able to put his broken arm in a sling by himself so he set the first aid kit on his seat before straddling Cowboy’s knees so that he could reach the radio.  Lifting it to his ear he found there was no static. It was dead.  Letting out a heart felt sigh escape he put the helmet down, only then wondering were his had gone.
     Hearing another moan from Cowboy, and he dug through the emergency supplies and pulled out a blanket that he carefully laid over top of the skinny blond.
     If the radio was broken, there was a possibility that the beacon was as well.  If neither were working and Cowboy hadn’t gotten through. No one would know where they were, unless he could fix the beacon, which was located under the ships… If was broken at all….
     Making sure Cowboy was comfortable he dropped the toolbox to the ground, which was a good fifteen-foot drop from where he was.  Normally he would lower his body from the side and let himself drop down, but unfortunately he couldn’t put that amount of pressure and weight on his broken arm and his good one wasn’t strong enough to hold his weight.
     Which all added together to form the conclusion that he’d have to jump from where he was.  That in itself wouldn’t have been so bad, but he wouldn’t be able to roll with his arm broken and if he landed flat-footed he could break both legs.
     Lance’s lips twisted sardonically.  He’d have to take his chances with the roll. If only the computer hadn’t gone out on him, he might have been able to tell from the light on the control panel labeled ‘Beacon activated’.
     Which also reminded him that once he got down he would have to go up; without a ladder, rope and probably no help from his unconscious companion.
     A bitter laugh escaped him.  “Don’t I just have all the luck.”  And with that he pushed off the spacecraft.
     His roll lasted longer than it would have typically. He remained, folded in a fetal position fighting off tears and the darkness that tried to engulf his mind, instead of springing to his feet, as he usually did. font>
     When Lance’s breathing returned to normal he managed to pick himself up and, with toolbox in hand moved to the undercarriage of the ship where he unscrewed a slightly dented panel.  Looking inside he felt his throat close up. Apparently the dent in the panel had been there before they’d hit the planet’s atmosphere… he knew that for the simple reason that all the panels, wires and circuitry were melted… including the beacon.
     Which meant that they were probably very much on their own.
………………………………….
     To get back into the ship, Lance had to climb one of the trees they had crashed into - and were inconveniently hanging from - and then drop down onto the nose of the ship.  Most of which he managed to do without aggravating his arm too much.  He sat on the edge of the now open cockpit and stared hard at the busted radio.  If only he could get it to work again he might be able to notify the Space Academy and get them off whatever rock they’d landed on…
     He struggled against his injuries as he moved around Cowboy and gently examined the equipment.  If he used the wiring from the navigation system and the circuitry from the auto-pilot which was similar…  They could get a message to the Academy, though they wouldn’t be able to receive any in return because they had no spare speakers. Still, if the Academy followed the transmitting signal to its source they might be able to pin point their general location.  It was a job for two hands though… biting his lip against the pain he knew was coming he went to work.
…………………
     Sweat covered his face as he worked.  It was getting so dark that he could no longer see what he was doing and as a result he left the radio and rechecked Cowboy, who was doing fine, except for his concussion.
     With a sigh he leaned against the edge of the open cockpit and looked down. With the glass so broken up they, would need something to protect them from the elements; a covering of some kind.  It came to him suddenly and he laughed at his own stupidity.  “The raft!  I can use the raft… It’s in the protective compartment underneath the plane, right next to the parachute!”
    Grinning he jumped back down, ignoring the pain in his arm and using a flat-edged screwdriver he pried the hatches open happy to see that neither had been damaged.  “Maybe our luck is finally coming together…”
     With awkward movements he managed to spread the raft over the hatch, propping it up with the open hatch.  He fell halfway through, the air knocked out of his lungs as he landed, his hand cracking against a rock that protruded from the uneven ground.  Breathing deeply he waited until the stars stopped whirling around his head and then turned onto his side and stopped abruptly as his eyes locked onto the strangest looking creature he’d ever seen.  It had rabbit-like ears, a monkey’s tail, a fox’s face, and the body of a small cat.  It wasn’t much bigger than a guinea pig but something about it sent warning bells off in Lance’s head.  He got the distinct impression that though it appeared no more harmless than a stuffed animal that was all just a disguise.  Underneath the cuteness was something dangerous.
     The creature watched him intently, then without any warning it moved forward and pain erupted in Lance’s midsection.
     When Lance opened his eyes, and sat up, it was gone but his stomach was in agony.  Getting up he climbed back up the tree, quickly finished working with the raft and then slid into the cockpit.  Sitting gingerly on his seat he slowly lifted his shirt with his good hand and gazed down at his bloody stomach to see it slightly distended.  Seeing that made something he’d learn a long time ago come back to memory.  The creature had been a Ramfa.  And it had just laid it’s eggs in a suitable host body… his body.  Much like a fly the Ramfa laid it’s eggs in the body of another creature, and then when the eggs hatched the young would eat the body, in effect killing the host.
     Feeling sick he let the shirt slide back down and turning on the cockpit lights, went back to work on the radio.  He only had about a week or maybe less no one had ever recorded any information on a human as a host.  If his body was at the right conditions, the little bastards could hatch in three days.
……………………….
     A day went by, Cowboy had woken up briefly but had just as quickly fallen back asleep.  Lance had thrown up a few times, a side-effect of a foreign body being residing within him.
     The only good thing was that the radio was almost fixed… or so he hoped, if he was honest with himself he knew that he’d only really know it was fixed when they got rescued; if they got rescued.
     Lifting the radio to his dry lips he began transmitting.  “Mayday.  This is Lance Braddock of the Star Academy.  If you can hear me, trace our signal.  Repeat trace our signal.  Medical assistance necessary.”  He started over, repeating the same message until his voice was hoarse and he was forced to stop.
     Leaning back he closed his eyes and prayed that someone would come, and that they arrived in time.
………………….
     Lance wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at the blood for a moment.  Coughing up blood could mean a lot of things and he hoped it was just internal bleeding, though it was a very real possibility that the eggs could have hatched.  Cowboy was awake right then, he couldn’t move much because of his head injury but when Lance had told him what had happened he’d taken up transmitting.  It was the second day since the Ramfa and laid it’s eggs inside of him and if someone didn’t come soon, he’d be forced to leave so that Cowboy wouldn’t be infected as well.  He found that his strength was waning and it took everything he had just to sit up straight.  And he sure as heck didn’t need a doctor to tell him he was in trouble, he could feel it.
     Closing his eyes he let himself slip into a fitful sleep.
…………………………..
     His world was shaking.  And in front of him, standing steady, unaffected by the world's tremors was the Elder.  His face was grim as he eyed Lance.  “You cannot give up.  Your destiny has yet to be fulfilled, Lion’s Heart.  Reach inside you for the strength that is your own.”
     Then in a misty fog the old man disappeared and the shaking got worse.  Grudgingly he opened his eyes and met Cowboy’s blue eyes.  “Lance they’re here,  Game Master and Ditch are on their way up.  You’re going to be okay.”
     Lance smiled weakly at his friend.  He wouldn’t give up.  He couldn’t, his heart wouldn’t let him.

TBC in Surgery.