Another five kilometers further west along the beach from Aura's lifepod was a third capsule.  Like the others, this one smoked and was followed by a deep, blackened trench.  This one hadn't had the fortune of landing on the beach - the long strip of sand was a very narrow target, after all - but had instead skidded along the top of the jungle trees, igniting the foliage in its wake like a pebble leaves ripples behind it as it skips over water.  The pilot was trying to bleed off speed before he reached the ocean, hoping to bring it down smoothly on the wide beach separating the forest from the water.  He was middle aged, in his late fifties, and had been flying spacecraft for decades.  First as a superiority fighter, then a cargo hauler when he injured a nerve cluster in his right thigh, and then as military transport.  He was inexperienced, and knew they'd be coming into Novus' atmosphere too fast.  He had air braked, presenting as much surface area as he could to the incoming air.  Although it put him in a better position than the other pods, he was still going too fast.  The pod smashed through an unusually tall tree, and a kilometer distant, the pilot saw the ocean.  He gritted his teeth, dropping the lifepod's altitude as the beach rapidly approached.<br/><br/>And then it hit a boulder.<br/><br/>Fortunately, the blunt nose of the pod was stronger than the igneous compound rocks that made up the monolith of stone.  The rock shattered, chunks flying in all directions, some as far as the distant beach.  The Comp-A nose of the vessel was dented as well; quite a feat.<br/><br/>Since the pod had been descending when it struck the boulder, its nose was a good two meters lower than the rest of the craft.  This caused the back end to flip up and over the snubbed nosed, and for a disorienting instant, everyone in the pod was upside down.  Then the top of the pod crashed down on the remains of the boulder, it's momentum causing it to flip a<em>second</em>time.<br/><br/>When it finally stopped moving, the spacecraft was propped against the edge of the boulder.  Its nose was planted deep in the soft earth, and its tail end was resting on the edge of the rock's remains.  Water from overhanging trees hissed as it dripped onto the hot metal, and steam wafted up and through the canopy of cottony foliage.<br/><br/>Inside, the pod was cramped.  Unlike the CACC, standard lifepods were built to hold twenty five people.  They were seated in five rows of five, their backs facing the front of the ship.  That way, deceleration pressed their entire body into a deeply cushioned seat rather than jerking them forward against a harness.  However, acceleration could be deadly.<br/><br/>It was that design that saved most of their lives.<br/><br/>*   *   *<br/><br/>Raine woke to water splashing on her face.  Her mouth opened and some of the liquid poured through, pooling on the back of her throat.  She reflexively coughed.  It was harsh and racking, and she quickly tasted blood.  Faintly, she remembered when she had been sick with strep throat when she was a child.  This felt just like that.<br/><br/>She brought her arm up, wiping at the spittle that had collected on her mouth.  When she pulled it away, her too-pale skin was smeared with crimson.  Groaning, Raine dropped the limb heavily onto the metal beneath her and looked around.  Moving her head hurt, as if she had a terminal stiff neck.<br/><br/>She recognized the inside of the pod she had left the ship in.  Judging from her position, she had fallen out of her seat in the back of the pod: to her left was the row of crash couches, to her right the dark interior bulkhead.  The rest of the interior seemed little worse for wear.  Somewhere behind the crash couches, bright daylight filtered in.  An aromatic scent burned her nostrils, enticing but far too strong.<br/><br/>Raine began to move, with the intent to find other survivors.  However, she seemed pinned.  Something was inside her, and it wasn't moving.  It didn't hurt, but it<em>did</em>feel unnatural.  The mechanic was suddenly nauseous.  Bringing her chin to her neck, Raine craned her neck uncomfortably to look down her torso.<br/><br/>The deck of the pod was lined with rails attached to the wall.  Standard poles of metal used for balance or to maneuver in zero-g.<br/><br/>One such pole had impaled Raine's abdomen.<br/><br/>The woman gasped, one hand grabbing the pole, still slick with fresh blood.  Her face bore a look of horror, of dismay, her mouth open in a disbelieving "O" as a terrible wail came up through her throat.  Panic began to set in.<br/><br/>Her hand slid down the pole till it reached her shirt.  The fabric was torn.  Raine's fingers dipped beneath the cloth and felt out the wound.  It was smooth, a single puncture with no tears or cuts moving away with it.  If she placed the tips of her right fingers on the top of her hip bone, and the side of her palm on the edge of her abdomen, the wound would be at the base of her thumb.<br/><br/>The edges felt crusty; coagulation.  She couldn't feel any more liquid coming through the rupture, though her stomach was covered in warm blood.<br/><br/>"Help?" she called out, looking around at the interior of the lifepod.  "Help?  Help!<em>Help?!</em>"<br/><br/>The lifepod was empty.  They had left her behind.<br/><br/>Raine continued to scream.