I wake up to a voice coming in over my comms unit, "Toxic Protection, Low". Just my luck, I've finally made my way into space and I crash land on a planet whose very environment wants to kill me. I allow myself a moment for resentful reflection about all of the explorers out there who are blissfully skipping along an idyllic grassy plane, taking their time to discover new creatures, and climbing the nearest mountain to take in their surroundings.
Not me. Nope. I'm running around like a madman trying to figure out how to fix my current predicament. I pull up my inventory, hoping to find something useful there. I hear another voice come over comms, "Life Support systems, low". Life support what? I page through my inventory systems until I find the interface associated with my suit. It looks like my suit protection is approaching 50%. I investigate further, and the system indicates that I can charge my suit with oxides ... I KNEW I shouldn't have spent chemistry class at the academy playing Gek Invaders on my retinal projection console. Trial and error it is!
Before I start digging for resources, my jaw tightens, I grit my teeth, and I tell myself, "I'm not going to let this planet beat me. This is the hand I've been dealt, and I have to do everything I can survive. I'll be a strong explorer for it." I take aim at what looks like a fossilized mushroom and start blasting with my mining laser. "WARNING: Incoming Storm" flashes across my visor. "UNBELIEVABLE!" I think to myself. Toxic rain is seconds away from hitting my location, my suit protection is not looking great. I start searching for some sort of cave or overhang that might at least shield me from the rain, but I still haven't even found this mysterious "oxide" needed by my suit.
The rain and wind hit me like a boiling caustic soup. The environmental toxicity levels spike, and I watch in paralyzed horror as my suit protection all but disappears. I need to figure out this isotope thing, but I'm too panicked to think straight. If I could just have a moment to catch my breath and look through the owners manual on this thing! I imagine myself reaching into the glove box of my ship, and pulling out a tablet with all of the data an explorer could ever need to survive this kind of situation. That's when I realized, just because my ship can't fly, doesn't mean it's completely useless. If that thing can protect me from cosmic radiation, space dust, and the occasional pirate, then surely it can shelter me from a little toxic rain! I find the heading to my ship in my visor (the one system I think I'm starting to understand) and I make a break for it. The smoke from my broken ship comes into view just as the acid begins to seep into my suit. My body takes damage from the searing pain, but it only increases my pace. Another shock runs down my back as the acid finds a new opening, but thankfully my ship is within arms reach. I open the hatch and drag my exhausted body into the cockpit. I watch my suit protection stabilize, and the pain on my skin slowly begins to fade ... I wonder if it'll scar.