“It would appear that we have crashed-landed.” A flat, almost dead voice carried through the air from the interior of the ship, and 7872 stepped down the ramp, some of the others moving to give her a wide berth. “Given the violence of our arrival, it would have been either an equipment malfunction, or we were forced down by an outside party.”
Ignoring the others for the time being, she swept her eyes across the grassland.
“Breathable atmosphere, no evidence of toxicity. Life-bearing, possibility of colonization or non-human sapients,” she muttered under her breath. Not the best place to land, all things considered, but it was far from the worst.
“Water source, possibly contaminated from crash, will need to boil to destroy bacteria… shelter a non-issue. Food, unknown. Short-term survival, likely. Long-term, unknown.” Her eyes flicked to the sky.
“Signal… none. Either out of range or no available network.”She blinked, as though just now noticing the others, and her voice became more audible.
“Still, it is doubtful this was our intended destination. It serves little purpose to have stranded us here.” She glanced towards the man who had questioned their presence and followed him beneath the ship.
“What sort of supplies do we have?”Throughout it all, her voice remained flat, almost monotone, and her expression remained unchanged.