That only thing your processors can retrieve from the last minutes of your is a sudden jolt from your ship and a sudden crash, with your visual feed cutting to black soon after.

You watch the scene of gradually ramping up chaos to suddenly see everyone on your ship become crushed from the impact of the landing over and over again. But your system’s primary life support systems kick in, jamming you in the back with several adrenal shocks to your spine and speaking to you in it’s familiar alien language, although a bit glitchy.

“Life support s-s-system sy-ONLINE. resetting visual numeral-al link.”

After saying this you feel your body quickly regaining its feeling and you start to pick yourself up, with loose bits of debris that laid on your back skidding off and falling to the floor. Everything is eerily quiet, but you hear the small whisper of wind across your armor and chirping emanating from the large trees surrounding you.