As Garridan made his way across the scarcely-inhabited landscape, he found his mind wandering. Was he really going to be here forever? Was it even possible for the galaxy, as a whole, to accept the existence of crossbreeds? He and all the others here had been born without a choice as to who, or what, they were, and yet the universe seemed blind to that fact, intent only on exiling those unfamiliar to them; and yet at one point, early in the history of the various races, they must have been unaware of the existence of other species, so why now did they choose ostracism? Perhaps there was hope for crossbreeds in the long run, given the general acceptance the universe had for each of the purebred species now, but would it be within his lifetime that any change was seen? He crossed his arms as these and other questions made their way through his mind, continuing on his casual walk down the dirt road that led to the usual drop-off zone.<br/><br/>About halfway there, he noticed something in his peripheral vision. High above him, in the sky, was the ship that presumably carried their supplies. His eyebrow arched; as far as he was aware, it was uncommon for the ship to fly as low as it currently was. What was more interesting, however, was its trajectory.. It seemed as if it were on a path leading straight toward the ground, and as he continued to watch it, it showed no signs of pulling up. Garridan's pace picked up noticeably, his arms falling to his side as he began half-jogging down the road. Either this was someone's idea of a cruel joke, or something big was about to happen.<br/><br/>Once he was within view of the site, he stopped moving; if there was going to be a crash, it would be unwise to be too close. And sure enough, the ship continued to fly at the same angle - until eventually coming into contact,<span style="font-style: italic">hard,</span>with the ground, sending a veritable earthquake through the earth and nearly knocking the man off his feet. Debris and dust crowded the air, and for a time, it seemed like the world was completely still, in a state of shock at the event that had just transpired. Garridan's eyes were as wide as his genetics would allow, and his mouth hung open ever so slightly.<span style="font-style: italic">Is this seriously happening..?</span><br/><br/>It was quite some time before the shockwaves and rubble settled. Once the majority of them were wearing off, and walking was safe once again, he began making his way forward. He noticed various onlookers nearby; probably people who, like him, wanted to be the first to get supplies, but it surprised him that none of them seemed to be taking initiative. Perhaps they were concerned it was a trap or a hoax of some sort?<span style="font-style: italic">Suits me just fine if that's the case.. Not much reason to be alive here, anyway.</span>Regardless of the reason why, he was soon standing mere feet away from what could be his ticket off of this forsaken rock.<br/><br/>He casually walked around the exterior of the ship, examining it intently. It was mostly made up of uniform metal plates, giving it a relatively old look compared to the sleeker models most spacecraft nowadays used. His hand stroked his chin thoughtfully, and he would occasionally stop to peer closer at individual parts and pieces, speaking to himself as he did so. "Hm.. Looks like an STC-12.. Lightweight, sturdy; fairly old, but a trustworthy ship nonetheless. Usually used for equal parts travel and hauling cargo. Makes sense they would use one like this." Upon seeing the unprotected windows, his palm quickly moved to come in contact with his forehead. "That's one mystery solved," he groaned. "I have a<span style="font-style: italic">horrible</span>feeling it's gonna smell like ass in there."<br/><br/>Eventually, he came across what he had been looking for. The door wasn't as much of a<span style="font-style: italic">door</span>as it was a rectangular indentation on the hull of the ship, about two feet off the ground; it was definitely recognizable as an entrance, but it blended in well at a distance. More of an aesthetic decision than anything. There was usually a ramp that unfolded, allowing easier access, but it was currently retracted for obvious reasons.<br/>Garridan quickly stepped over to the door and ran his fingers along the groove. "<span style="font-style: italic">Dammit..</span>" he cursed under his breath. "This is definitely locked." He took another few moments to look around before stepping back, crossing his arms and staring down at nothing in particular, lost in his own thoughts. It had been a long while since he had worked on a ship like this, but there was<span style="font-style: italic">something</span>he could do to get it open. There had to be.