_Pan-Pan. Noun. An international radio distress signal, used to identify a state of urgency on board a craft._

**~~~**

You aren’t entirely sure how you woke up or even got here at the first place, yet you know three things. The first you know: it’s cold as hell here. Or, more accurately, cold as the Antarctic. You know you aren’t in Antarctica, or anywhere near that place, though. The temperature could only be described as most likely lower than 25 degrees Fahrenheit, and around -4 degrees Celsius. But to put it in much, much shorter words: it was **_cold.

_****_

_**Second thing is, you came here with about four other people, one of them not being human to start with. The captain — you aren’t sure of her name, has been quite bossy lately to the lead scientist and the communications officer, although she didn’t seem like she meant it much. The scientist is a bit of an old geezer you think to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you remember, and the communications officer on board of your ship is a funny fellow, enjoying old movies such as Star Wars, Star Wars, and did you mention Star Wars? He also seemed too happy at points, and that made you slightly worry about him sometimes. But whatever. And the last person on your ship, a mutant plant monster. You weren’t entirely sure how they got there, but it had most likely had something to do with that fellow scientist on board of the ship with you.

And third of all, your ship had crashed, and everyone else on board with you is dead. Well, from what you believe, they are all dead. Your head seems to be spinning, and you can’t grasp the line between reality and an endless vast dreamscape that just seems to sort of bring you _back. _It’s odd, really, but you should probably wake up now, you are bleeding after all.

~

A groan would escape from the lips of a man lying on the ground at the moment. He leans up, the world spinning around him, and the faint sound of alarms blaring in the distance. His eyes open from being completely shut, and he attempts to stand up on his legs without spraining anything, yet failing as he instantly falls over, but quickly catches himself in time, his hands reaching for the nearest catalyst to keep himself stabalized and upright for now.

The man grabs onto a nearby metal bar, a quiet hiss escaping him at how cold it was, yet he holds it nonetheless and fixes himself up, looking for a nearby exit. The man sees an open door, and would slowly make his way towards it, a limp in his walk as he does. All of a sudden, the door would open, two heads poking their way in to look at the interior of the broken down spacecraft. They look around for a couple moments, the one on the left shining their flashlight in, and then flashing it on the man, the light illuminating his body as he flinches slightly, not expected to be put on the sudden spot.

_“Hello? Is anyone there? Any Survivors by any chance?” _The one not holding the flashlight asks, walking inside and carefully helping the man out, wrapping his arm across his neck and lifting him up, carrying him out of the craft as the flashlight-wielding one puts the flashlight up and nods in response.

_“I… suppose so. I don’t remember much though. When did The Crash happen again?”_ The man asks, his headache now forming as he groans quietly, his eyelids fluttering slightly. The two others share a glance, and sigh quietly. They continue walking, not responding to the man’s question. He frowns slightly, taking it as a bit of an insult, yet not dwindling on it. The three stay in silence for a bit, until they walk out, the cold air and bright light blue and pink colors hitting the man’s face immediately.

The man inhales, a soft smile parting his face as he continues to take in the cold air. It was a big and nicer comparison compared to the intense, hot atmosphere when he was trapped in the ship. The colors in the sky would almost seem as if they were illuminating his body in a perfect and majestical way, making him look even more beautiful than before.

As they continue to walk towards who knows where, the man would see a group of three or four other people all murmuring quietly to each other. They take a moment, gazing at the walking trio, then going back to their conversation. They seemed to have orange colored jumpsuits on, almost as if they were space outfits, fit for an intelligent society of people. The man picks up on what they were saying, seemingly talking about another person under the name of _“Sirius”_. Could that be the name of another one of his crew mates? Or was that his own name? He couldn’t tell.

The trio walks into a small base nearing the crash site, and walk inside. The person not holding the flashlight would lay the man on a small folding bed, letting him rest there, and going into another room with the flashlight-wielding person, talking about them. The man leans up as soon as he hears the door close and shut, taking in the atmosphere and items located in the room he was in.

Of course, there were windows looking outside to the crash site and snowy remains of the mountain range they were in, and small cozy lamps in the room, illuminating it nicely, but there was also a small coffee table, as well as a couch, a TV, a mini-fridge, and the fold out bed that he was currently laying on at the moment.

A door on the right would open, and the man looks over to see a small kid walk in. The boy seemed about the age of 8 to 10, standing at a short height of 4’7, and holding a small teddy bear in his hands. He seemed to be gazing up at the other man, a slight interest and nervousness in his eyes.

_“…hi.”_ The boy would murmur quietly, taking a seat on the fold out bed besides the older man, shifting a bit awkwardly. The man notices and frowns slightly, nodding in response to the boy’s quiet murmured sentence. Another silent and intense moment would pass, until the boy sighs quietly, speaking up again, a clear tone of somberness in his speech.

_“There were no survivors of the crash, if that’s what you’re wondering.”_

__

__

That would take the man off guard for a second, as he stares at the boy, a slight bewildered expression on his face. Then, his frown turns into a more neutral expression. He had known. And he found it okay, to say.

He had known all along, yet, he had just so seemed to figure it out now.

**_You_** had just so seemed to figure it out now.

Your name was Sirius.

And you had shined bright once or twice.

_As bright as a star in the night sky._