Outpost 2 Snowed in Hetero EditionChapter 3 Size Matters
- 3 years ago
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Riya stood at the door of the outpost, looking out through the porthole at the mountains of snow that the storm had deposited the previous night, the air was clear now and she could see one wing of her shuttle protruding from the powder as the vessel lay almost on its side. Schaffer arrived from the corridor behind her, already pulling on his environment suit, fastening the seal on one of his gloves as he marched towards her. He came to a stop beside her, tapping the suit monitor on his wrist to check the battery charge as she waited patiently.
“The storm has blown over,” he said, “looks like we can get outside now and dig up your shuttle. Think it’ll be ok? I can’t imagine that it would have taken any damage, as long as the engine intakes were closed so that no melted snow could leak inside, and I doubt you need me to remind you of that.”
“It’s a combat dropship,” Riya replied as she began pulling on her own suit, dancing on the spot as she shuffled inside the tight-fitting garment. “Or at least that was its original purpose before they tasked me with being a glorified delivery service, I doubt the weight of the snow will have done the chassis any damage but I’d better give her a once-over to be sure before I risk taking off.”
Schaffer nodded as she zipped up her environment suit and twisted on her helmet, there was a hiss of air as it pressurized.
“That reminds me,” she said, “how are you planning on digging it out? It must be buried under two or three feet of snow at least. Won’t that take all day?”
“Not with a little help from my friends,” he replied as he grinned at her through his open face plate. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, then waited for a moment, and before long half a dozen of the furry Polars were crowding the hallway behind him.
“That’ll do it,” she laughed, then gestured to the reinforced metal door. “After you...”
Knowing that the door would be stuck fast due to the snow that had piled on the other side, Schaffer waved forth Zagza, the enormous male taking a moment to greet Riya with a sort of Eskimo kiss that left a wet smear on her visor as his nose rubbed against it. She didn’t speak their language and so she couldn’t tell the alien to keep it casual, her face reddening as it brought back memories of their encounter the day before, and he stepped past her to take the door handle in his massive hand. He twisted it and grunted, jamming his broad shoulder against the metal, the humans stepping back to give him space as his claws scarred the deck. He heaved, forcing the door open and pushing back the pile of snow on the other side, much of it spilling into the hallway along with a gust of freezing air that stung like knives even through their insulated suits.
They marched out in single file, the humans sinking up to their knees in the crisp snow, the tall aliens wading through it with relative ease as they followed Zagza over to the delta wing that protruded from a snow drift like the mast of a sunken ship. When they arrived the Polars immediately began to dig, using their enormous hands like shovels and breaking patches of ice with their hard claws, the two humans soon abandoning their efforts to contribute as the Polars outpaced them. They stood aside and watched as the pack worked, slowly unearthing the buried vessel like it was some forgotten archeological structure on a dig. Schaffer chuckled to himself as he imagined them using the ends of their fuzzy tails like brushes to clean artifacts of dirt and debris.
They got it done remarkably quickly, it couldn’t have taken them more than half an hour, and Zagza had even instructed them to clear a small area around the dropship as he knew more or less how it worked. They stood back to admire their handiwork, the navy blue hull of the vessel now almost completely clear of snow, but it still lay at an odd angle as it rested on the snow drift that it had originally crashed on. Zagza was hesitant to have his people attempt to right it for fear that it might fall on them, and so he deffered to Schaffer who walked up and down the length of the craft as he examined it.
“What do you think Riya, can you take off like this?”
“I still have to unload the cargo,” she said as she walked up beside him, kneeling to get a better look at the landing gear that lay partially submerged. “I think the best option will be for me to idle the engines for a while, see how much of the snow I can melt with the thrusters, then take off and attempt a proper landing nearby.”
“Yeah, if you can melt most of that drift and get the wings mostly level, you shouldn’t have too hard a time getting into the air again.”
“She’s a little bottom heavy because of the crates in the hold,” Riya mused, “but I reckon I can get her righted. I don’t see any damage to the airframe, I’ll do an engine and hull integrity check once I’m inside, make sure she hasn’t sprung any leaks. Have your friends keep their distance, unless you want to see what a steamed Polar looks like.”
Schaffer waved the pack back to a safe distance as Riya lowered the landing ramp and struggled inside, making her way to the cockpit and getting seated. Schaffer could see her moving around through the cockpit windows as she flipped switches and pressed buttons, a loud whine emanating from the ship’s engines as they came to life. She turned on the thrusters, keeping them at low power so as not to actually lift the craft, jets of blue flames appearing under the wings and belly of the dropship as the snow beneath began to melt under the heat. It created steam as the water vaporized, clouds of it billowing out from under the ship, Riya careful not to melt it away so quickly that she simply dropped.
Under normal circumstances landing in snow was not a problem, the intense heat of the thrusters would burn away a level surface upon which the vessel could set down safely, but it was the wind that had caught her and had dashed her against the drift before her engines had gotten a chance to do their work.
Slowly the dropship started to right itself, leveling out as the drift shrank, until it looked as if she might be steady enough to attempt a take off. Riya fired the main engines briefly, ensuring that their internal workings had not been frozen. The low temperatures of space were one thing, but having water seep into the engine and then freeze was quite another, if it somehow reached any of the electronics it could cause a catastrophic short-circuit. Everyhing seemed fine though, and Schaffer watched as the thrusters flared more brightly and the vessel began to rise off the ground. She was using manual controls, he could see the intensity of the flames changing as she did her best to control her pitch and roll, the craft slowly drifting right to avoid what was left of the snow pile.
Riya stood at the door of the outpost, looking out through the porthole at the mountains of snow that the storm had deposited the previous night, the air was clear now and she could see one wing of her shuttle protruding from the powder as the vessel lay almost on its side. Schaffer arrived from the corridor behind her, already pulling on his environment suit, fastening the seal on one of his gloves as he marched towards her. He came to a stop beside her, tapping the suit monitor on his wrist...
Scarface led them down the hall and past some bedrooms that were occupied by piles of sleeping Polars, searching for a free dorm and eventually finding one, thrusting the pair into the room and then closing the door ominously behind them with a click as the lock engaged. They landed on the mattresses that lined the floor, white hairs from previous occupants littering the space, the two bunk beds that were unable to support the weight of the pack members pushed out of the way towards the back...
Schaffer dreamed that he was warm, no, hot. Growing hotter. Sweat coated his body, he felt as if he were on fire. Was he in hell? Was that what fate had decreed? His mind was muddled, unfocused. He reached out his hand, feeling downy fur and yielding fat. He opened his eyes with a start, this was not a dream. He was awake, out of the snow and out of his suit, too. It was too dark for him to see anything, and all around him, the same soft fur pressed against his naked skin. There was an odd,...
Schaffer donned his cloak as the pack geared up for their trip. He still wasn’t sure just how far it was, but the aliens were gearing up for a long journey. They were bringing supplies of food and fuel, all of their weapons, and plenty of tools. Each one carried a heavy pack laden with goods, and they were wrapped in layers of protective clothing. Shorts and vests, cloaks and shawls, some even wore long hoods to protect their ears. This was going to be a serious ordeal, Schaffer realized. He...
Riya steered her dropship through the blizzard, the winds buffeting the little craft as it glided on its stubby wings, a sensor overlay projecting on her cockpit window in an attempt to help her see through the almost opaque flurry of snow. It was coming down harder than she had ever seen it, battering the craft’s hull, audible even over the sound of the thrusters as they pulsed to maintain altitude. This should have been a routine supply run, she had been tasked with delivering a cargo bay...
Schaffer sat at the kitchen table, a dozen Polars crowding around it as they dug into their supper, Osha doling out portions to the other aliens as they waited patiently for their share. Runt sat beside him, the mischievous twins were present too, along with a few of the hunters and some of the larger females. Tonight they were feasting on a large native animal that had been brought down the night before, its meat seared and served with some canned vegetables than the pack had taken a liking...
He awoke to frigid cold. His fingers were stiff, and his breath hung in the air, forming crystals that glittered in the waning light of the dirty bulbs. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept, but the heating still had not come on. There was some kind of problem. He tried to rise to a sitting position, noting with discomfort that his chapped lips were welded together, but the gravity gripped him like an angry fist and chained him to the bed. It felt as though an elephant was sitting on his...
There had to be some way to modify the outgoing signal, or to inject his own data into the stream. Schaffer slammed the console with his fist in frustration. He had mapped every function that he could find and was now reduced to trawling the maze of menus and submenus contained within the operating system. Half of the functions required commands that he did not know, the system was entirely custom, though loosely based on a kind of UNN security system management software that he was somewhat...
Once again, Schaffer awoke to a face full of fur. Sometime during the night, a pile of aliens had crept up on him, burying him at the bottom of another dogpile. They were so damned heavy, their oppressive weight squashing him down into the mattress. He was learning to identify the pack members by their unique markings now. Like a fingerprint, each alien had subtly different spots that patterned their coat. He recognized Osha lying beside him at the bottom of the mound, she had one long,...
When the pack had warmed up, they ate again, sitting around the fire pits in groups of three or four and sharing meat. This was more casual than the feast had been, less organized. Schaffer found himself in the company of the two identical males that he had seen at the table during the previous night’s event. Their height, coloration, and markings were all exactly the same. Apparently, these aliens could produce twins like many animals on Earth. They seemed overly curious, borderline...
Schaffer slammed his hand down on the console, frustration overcoming him. He picked up the sheet of paper that he had been recording his findings on, checking his crude drawing of the control panel, what buttons he had been able to discern the functions of labeled in blue ink. Fortunately, the pens had thawed from their frozen state along with the rest of the building. Apparently, they still worked, and there had been plenty of paper sealed in airtight boxes in the storage room for him to...
The snow was really coming down now, and Schaffer was glad to be inside the outpost, the heating system kept them cozy while elements that would kill an unprotected human in a matter of minutes battered the base from the outside. He sipped a mug of steaming coffee, it was a little gritty, but the heat of the beverage spread through his stomach and put a smile on his face. The Polars didn’t like the caffeine in coffee, and their tongues seemed almost indifferent to sweet flavors, but a mug of...
The aliens were at it again. Schaffer was woken by the obscene sounds of their coupling on the cot adjacent to his. He blinked his itchy eyes to see a mass of writhing creatures, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire pits. They were a pile of shifting forms, their white fur and roving appendages blending into a chimera of pleasure and indecency. Trying to get them to stop would be pointless, they’d be at it for hours and would deprive him of sleep in the process. He rolled out of his...
The stars rolled by the office window lazily as the Pinwheel’s torus spun. Chief of Security Moralez looked up at the readout that was scrolling past on his monitor, yawning as he nursed a styrofoam cup full of dark coffee. It was gritty, and it tasted like shit, but it was all that was left in the pot. His shift was almost over, and he was eager to get back home to his girlfriend. He gave the readout another glance, then set down his coffee on his console with one of his prosthetic hands,...
Scarface led them down the hall and past some bedrooms that were occupied by piles of sleeping Polars, searching for a free dorm and eventually finding one, thrusting the pair into the room and then closing the door ominously behind them with a click as the lock engaged. They landed on the mattresses that lined the floor, white hairs from previous occupants littering the space, the two bunk beds that were unable to support the weight of the pack members pushed out of the way towards the back...
Schaffer dreamed that he was warm, no, hot. Growing hotter. Sweat coated his body, he felt as if he were on fire. Was he in hell? Was that what fate had decreed? His mind was muddled, unfocused. He reached out his hand, feeling downy fur and yielding fat. He opened his eyes with a start, this was not a dream. He was awake, out of the snow and out of his suit, too. It was too dark for him to see anything, and all around him, the same soft fur pressed against his naked skin. There was an odd,...
Schaffer donned his cloak as the pack geared up for their trip. He still wasn’t sure just how far it was, but the aliens were gearing up for a long journey. They were bringing supplies of food and fuel, all of their weapons, and plenty of tools. Each one carried a heavy pack laden with goods, and they were wrapped in layers of protective clothing. Shorts and vests, cloaks and shawls, some even wore long hoods to protect their ears. This was going to be a serious ordeal, Schaffer realized. He...
He awoke to frigid cold. His fingers were stiff, and his breath hung in the air, forming crystals that glittered in the waning light of the dirty bulbs. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept, but the heating still had not come on. There was some kind of problem. He tried to rise to a sitting position, noting with discomfort that his chapped lips were welded together, but the gravity gripped him like an angry fist and chained him to the bed. It felt as though an elephant was sitting on his...
There had to be some way to modify the outgoing signal, or to inject his own data into the stream. Schaffer slammed the console with his fist in frustration. He had mapped every function that he could find and was now reduced to trawling the maze of menus and submenus contained within the operating system. Half of the functions required commands that he did not know, the system was entirely custom, though loosely based on a kind of UNN security system management software that he was somewhat...
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Once again, Schaffer awoke to a face full of fur. Sometime during the night, a pile of aliens had crept up on him, burying him at the bottom of another dogpile. They were so damned heavy, their oppressive weight squashing him down into the mattress. He was learning to identify the pack members by their unique markings now. Like a fingerprint, each alien had subtly different spots that patterned their coat. He recognized Osha lying beside him at the bottom of the mound, she had one long,...
When the pack had warmed up, they ate again, sitting around the fire pits in groups of three or four and sharing meat. This was more casual than the feast had been, less organized. Schaffer found himself in the company of the two identical males that he had seen at the table during the previous night’s event. Their height, coloration, and markings were all exactly the same. Apparently, these aliens could produce twins like many animals on Earth. They seemed overly curious, borderline...
Schaffer slammed his hand down on the console, frustration overcoming him. He picked up the sheet of paper that he had been recording his findings on, checking his crude drawing of the control panel, what buttons he had been able to discern the functions of labeled in blue ink. Fortunately, the pens had thawed from their frozen state along with the rest of the building. Apparently, they still worked, and there had been plenty of paper sealed in airtight boxes in the storage room for him to...
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“Cya, I’ll let you know when I am on board,” I shouted to my friend as they dropped me off at the airport. Today I was finally getting the chance to head to Europe for the first time and getting to do so flying a 747, my favorite plane. Headed upstairs, I got through security with no trouble and made my way to the gate to watch the inbound aircraft arrive, and what a sight it was, easily the most gorgeous plane in the skies. Looking around the gate seating area, there was a mix of people...
Fly The Friendly Skies (Or possibly a fifth addition to the original Airport film series) The receptionist ended her call from the boss in the head office then looked to the man sitting in the waiting area and told him his meeting was next. Tim Benson set the copy of "London Life" down then got up, smoothed his suit and snapped the handle of his briefcase. He nodded, smiling as he passed the receptionist then began the climb up the half dozen steps behind the desk in the large waiting...
Several hours later, I woke alone and in a daze. Confused and thinking maybe I was late for class, I got my bearings once I looked through the window and noticed it was night. A thick blanket of snow had fallen and the occasional victorian style street lamp revealed the few flakes still swirling through the cold night air. I found my clothes and made my way down stairs. Half way down the stairs; I ran into the aroma of tomato, garlic and baked cheese as if it were a wall. I found my Aunt...