They don't recruit the faint-hearted into the fleet, and you've got a long way down...you think. At least your radar says you do, even if, by sight, it doesn't appear that way. You decide to trust your altimeter, and try to get control of the craft.
The sheer is threatening to blow the ship to pieces, and you know you've taken damage. But you're still better off if you can get her down, even if in pieces. It's a big universe, and it could take years for them to find you, even with the locator beacon on your wrist. You remember Sammy, how he was on the planet of the octopodes for sixteen years....
You stop thinking about that, and put your focus into landing your ship. You finally get her pointed in a general direction that's going with the wind -- you don't have much choice of where you'll end up, but at least you'll come in with a controlled descent, and you'll have a chance to do some repair work. Heck, there could be a civilization on this planet -- you might have help.
Soon enough, you're approaching touchdown. Your main thrusters are pretty much useless, you're gliding in for a landing. You can see your target now -- enough room that you should be able to land without hitting anything. You're aiming for....
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