When we last left our hero, Blast Anderson's star ship was being assaulted by Porkarian Battle Hammers! Though his evasive maneuvers are top notch, his weapon systems are still disabled from his battle with the space vampires of Orlok VI.
No matter how hard he fights, the outcome is inevitable. Blast's star ship is no match for Porkarian plasma torpedoes. Damaged, his ship spirals off course, smoldering as it spins into the atmosphere of a random planet. Luckily, Blast's descent is slowed by a very tall tree. ...And another. And another. And from scraping across the side of a nearby mountain.
Indeed, his descent is slowed, but each impact strips more and more from Blast Anderson's ship until all that's left is the pilot... and his once very comfortable chair.
Blast (with seat in tow) hits warm sand with a dull thud. It takes him a moment to find his footing, and begin to assess the situation. His surroundings look very... tropical, but it's no world he recognizes. All he has are his wits, his strong jaw, and his ray gun.
Blast knows that he had more supplies aboard his ship--they've likely been scattered across this jungle now, the items flying everywhere in his crash landing. Objects like his universal translator could definitely be of use, if he can manage to backtrack where the fragments of his ship fell. He suspects they should be sprinkled more or less west of here.
To the south, Blast's strong senses pick up the potent aroma of ocean water.
To the east, Blast smells... cooking? He definitely smells some meat being cooked up, and it smells delicious. Now that he considers it, it has been a while since he got a chance to eat, and it might be hard to escape this backwater planet on an empty stomach.
What should Blast do?
(This is an interactive story. Post a reply with what you think Blast Anderson should do next. My goal is to post one of these every day, Monday through Friday, though that schedule might change depending on activity and what all I need to sprite up.)