((Well, here goes.))
Turn TwoWill:[5] You lean on the trunk of the tree behind you, the pod covering your left flank, and steady your pistol with both hands. The gun is a H&K P126, loaded with delayed-detonation explosive rounds - formerly the choice of large game hunters all over the Earth. Somebody -a very clever somebody- had gotten the dusty DD rounds off a shelf somewhere, and thought that it would be a brilliant idea to arm the Borean colonists with them. More were produced in short order. The rounds combine stopping power with the ability to turn vital organs into delicious chunky borsch in the instant it takes you to say "Fu-". The weight of the pistol is reassuring.
You wait. A minute passes, then another. You begin to relax slightly. Then, something explodes upwards through the thick snow right in front of you! You catch a glimpse of off-white fur, yellow faceted eyes, and a set of frantically clicking mandibles, before your finger tightens on the trigger in reflex, and the creature is thrown back as if struck by a giant fist. It crumples in a heap in front of you, entirely lifeless.
However, more burst through the snow all around you, though now at a respectful distance - three in five meters or so, and another twice as far behind them. Now you have the time to get a longer look at them: They stand a bit shorter than a human, their mandibles coming about to your neck - what a repulsive thought - though they stand on four long, thin chitinous legs. You suppose that they must be standing on the soil beneath the snow, and true enough, one of them chitters, raising a foot in your direction: it ends in a wicked point.
The situation doesn't look too good to you: you could kill two or three, but if they rush you all at once, they'll tear you a new one for sure.
Team Hovercraft:[5] Dr. McGaw drives the hover over the ice with a frightening speed: the river is smooth like a highway, so you make rather good time. Soon, the hover veers off into the forest, following the signal of Will's transponder. It loops and weaves through the trees while its occupants exchange banter.
[6] Soon, it arrives at the small clearing where Pod 16 struck Borean soil...wood...whatever. The doctor's eyes widen as she sees the colonist standing with his back to a thick tree, his pistol raised, and the strange creatures surrounding him. Then they widen further as another bug bursts through the snow right in front of the hover, and is promptly run over, its guts spattering the windshield.
The hover comes to a stop.
Jacques:[3] Holding your catch firmly in hand, you plod over to the river, and then downstream - supposedly, it's frozen now - in the direction of the camp. You walk for some time, the fish wriggling in your grasp. Sometimes it even makes a pitiful croaking noise, its eyes bulging at you in that brain-damaged grimace only fish can manage. You are entirely merciless, however: your ankle still stings. It doesn't interfere with your walking, but it's still rather painful. "Small wonder", - you think, looking at the fish's huge, crooked teeth.
After a rather tiresome walk, you arrive to the
Horizon's landing site. Of course, snow around it had already been melted by the ship's powerful primary drives, but to your surprise, it has already been further cleared and packed by the others, who have now arrived to the camp en masse. A large tent has been set up, and several people are unpacking supplies from the storage section. The self-assembling factory's many modules have already been put into proper arrangement by several techs, and it is constructing itself rapidly, small drones crawling over it this way and that.
You grab an empty storage container, stuff it with snow, and thrust the fish inside, then snap it closed. Now you only have to hand it over to that McGaw person, or some other biologist around here, though you doubt it'll be of use before a lab is set up. In the meanwhile, you're free to drink caf and relax, look for some disinfectant for your ankle, or maybe help the others set up camp, whichever.
Markus:[4] You watch the hover depart, then march off in the direction of the camp at a steady pace. The sun is starting to sink lower: it was about midday when you landed. The length of the Borean day is about the same as the Earth's, and the sun doesn't look markedly different. You remember that the moon is a lot larger, though, resulting in some rather interesting tides.
There are birds soaring above, making slow, dazed circles around the camp. Poor little sods, you think to yourself. When technology invades your life, it really does.
You walk into the camp ten minutes later. Leaning on some crates, you pause to decide what to do next.
Dr.McGaw: In the forest, healthy. Inventory: pistol, 28 ammo, ration, standard gear.
Sean: In the forest, healthy. Inventory: pistol, 28 ammo, ration, underwear.
Markus: In the camp, healthy. Inventory: pistol, 28 ammo, ration, standard gear.
Alex: In the forest, healthy. Inventory: pistol, 28 ammo, ration, standard gear.
Jacques: In the camp, small bite wound on left ankle. Inventory: pistol, 28 ammo, ration, standard gear.
Will: Beneath his pod in the forest, healthy. Inventory: pistol, 27 ammo, ration, standard gear.
Hostiles: 4 snow bugs, possibly more.
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Topic: Trailblazers in a World of Winter - Chester crashes the party. (Read 58601 times)