Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

So what I'm hearing is he was a dangerous subversive who was endangering the peace and good order of the Empire.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Junebug nodded and downed the last of her coffee, wincing at the bitterness of the cheap brew she had collected on Fornax. Over the years she had performed hundreds of briefings, some informal around tables like these, other times crouched in a circle of watchful armored vehicles. This was a different beast though more akin to a planning group in which she had usually participated only as a junior partner.

"That is good news," she agreed, "but it still leaves us with the problem of actually lifting to orbit." She touched a control on a wall panel and a schematic of the Highlander flashed into view. Three of the eight reticulated thrusters were in green with an other in a dark yellow, the remaining for were in red.

"We need to repair the thrusters but we cant do that while they are submerged in water," she went on rolling a vernier control to draw back to a view of the small embayment in which the ship floated.

"Building a retaining dam around the ship is still the best bet and we can use the centrifugal pumps to drain it."

"The problem is that our native friends," - now that Zalli might understand she refrained from using 'indig' or 'yokels' or some other derogatory term - "Aren't likely to leave us alone long enough for us to finish the project."

"Wetumpkah, or whoever won that little fracas at the games yesterday, isn't likely to leave us alone." Zalli, who had been gazing dreamily at the projection screen, which to be fair must seem like magic, started at Wetumpkah's name. Taya lay a hand on the girls arm calmingly.

"So we either need to come up with a plan to neutralize them, or better yet convince them to help with the dam." Although it was true that the crew could complete the work themselves, it would take days, maybe weeks with just the four of them. A rain of spears from the forest would add to that time considerably of course. There were other options of course. In Junebugs minds eye rock flashed into white gouts of flame as she raked the ziggurat with cyan jets of plasma. Huts burst into flames as the locals fled in terror into the woodlands to escape the hell light firestorm. SHe blinked her eyes suddenly snapping back to the real world and aware that others had been speaking while she zoned out.

@POOHEAD189

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Junebug felt comfortable for the first time since Fornax. After a few hours sleep, and a shower so hot that her skin was still warm minutes later, it felt as though a veil had been lifted. She sat at the galley table sipping hot bitter coffee and chewing determinedly toast which had been blackened to within a few degrees of ash. The clothes helped immeasurably too, few things were as subltey disorienting as strange garb, now she wore fatigue pants, combat boots and a tan brown cotton PT shirt.

"Take that brush and pull it through the ring," she instructed, gesturing with a piece of imitation bacon. Taya, seated across from her and wearing some of Sayeeda's spare close, picked up a piece of the disassembled pistol spread on the table and started to scrub the capacitor ring.

"Like this?" the girl asked. Junebug nodded her approval as she chewed her fakeon and took another swig of the bitter coffee. The smell of gun oil and cleaning products was a familiar and comforting one to the veteran and she picked up the stock of her own plasma rifle, a far more complex weapon than the one Taya was practicing with, and began snapping the pieces back together. Checking weapons and gear was a routine task but she couldn't pretend that her malfunctioning submachine gun hadn't made her a little more enthusiastic than usual.

"Hi-lo," came a sultry voice from the bulkhead door. Junebug looked up to see Quetzalli, clad in a gray jumpsuit, sniffing at the air. The girls eyes were wide and continued to dart from wonder to wonder. Junebug felt a pang of sympathy. Entering the Highlander would have been jarring for her under the best of circumstances but she had also taken a REM learning program while she slept. Sleep learning a language wasn't a matter of going to bed one night and waking up fluent. The technology provided equivalency to existing linguistic connections, it made learning a new language far easier than unaided study but a full course took weeks and relied on practice to consolidate the knowledge. Scrambling brain connections also left the student disoriented and made it hard to focus. Mercenary units enroute to theaters frequently used the technique to pick up enough local dialect to get by. Of course their primary concern was usually booze and companionship which were pretty much human universals.

"Hello," Junebug replied gesturing the girl into the compartment.

"Come, eat," she directed, pointing to the plate of bacon and toast in the middle of the table between the broken down weapons. She finished reassembling her rifle and clicked through the automated diagnostic before propping the weapon in a corner and wiping the tabletop clear of the minor detritus of the task.

"First officer," she said formally before taking a mouthful of coffee, the word tripping the shipwide communication circuit.

"Please report to the Council of War and Breakfast in the galley."

@POOHEAD189

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

*watches a pile of asphyxiated frozen racists grow on the Martian surface*

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

The night was clear and quiet again save for the heavy breathing of all concerned. With a weary effort Junebug pressed one hand to the ground and lifted herself to her feet, taking care to keep her weapon free. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel of the weapon as she scanned the jungle. Taya trembled, holding Neil's smoking pistol in both hands. The girl's eyes were like saucers and Junebug gave it even odds that she was about to throw up. With meticulous care she refastened her patrol sling and slung the submachinegun before picking her way up the slope. With a slow deliberate motion she plucked the pistol from the young woman's unyielding hands, cracked the chamber, closed the weapon and put the safety on before handing it back to Taya. Zalli stood not far away, forearms slicked in blood from the knife she held in a reverse handed grip. The native girl's chest heaved with exertion and excitement which Junebug was objective enough to concede was distracting. She didn't try to take the knife, the girl obviously knew enough to handle the weapon.

The large creature lay sprawled against a grayish boulder projecting from the ridge, greenish blood flowing into the volcanic red dirt. Up close the thing appeared to be more cat like, though given a weird aspect by the unusually long front legs. Its mouth was filled with long razored teeth as well as cartilaginous spurs that ran from the things joints. There was a strange smell too, like a combination of cinnamon and ammonia. Junebug wondered if the things were venomous. Turning her flashlight on she illuminated the things paw and was relieved to find claws but no obvious venom.

"Well," Junebug commented, voice seeming oddly loud in the quite the followed the moments of frenetic action.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

In the aftermath of the ambush no one was enthusiastic about making camp and they marched through the night, stopping briefly at dawn to eat a quick meal of fruit foraged by Zalli and Neil. Taya marched resolutely head down and grip tight on the gun, though what she thought it would accomplish with no rounds was any ones guess. An hour later Taya stiffened suddenly and Junebug lifted her weapon.

"I have a ping from the Highlander," she said, the first words she had spoken in some hours, voice cracking for want of a drink of water. She seemed to focus for a moment and then turned a few degrees to the north.

"Got a bearing," she reported happily. Another hour later, guided by Taya's radio beacon they climbed over the low rise and looked down upon the crippled ship, still moored to the bank and unmolested.

@POOHEAD189

Post a random fact about yourself.

I'm a qualified Dive Master (Dive mistress?)

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

A moment later a second roar, much closer than the first, rang out in answer. Zalli spoke quickly in her language but so low and so rapidly that Junebug got hardly a word of it. Not that it mattered much, the fearful look on the girl’s face was enough to tell her what she needed to know.

“Oh Stars, oh Stars,” Taya moaned hugging herself tightly and looking around in close to a panic.

“Stay calm,” Junebug instructed. Unconsciously she checked that the loading tube of her sub machine gun was firmly locked in place. Seven of the thirty round load had been functional. Maybe functional anyway as there was no test short of firing them that she could trust. It was unlikely that Neil had an overabundance of rounds either.

“Fwgao?” Junebug asked Zalli, struggling for the native word for fire. The girl shook her head vigorously and made a circling motion with her hand.

“Got it,” the mercenary acknowledged wishing for about the thousandth time that she had her helmet. Infrared would make the job significantly easier, but then if she had all her gear then a pack of hungry predators would be no threat at all. What they needed was a defensible position, somewhere the trees were a bit less tight and the animals whatever they were would be visible long enough to line up a shot. The top of the lightly forested ridge was about two hundred meters away. It never got completely clear but the rocky soil near the crest made the vegetation thin and stunted.

“Climb,” she directed, gesturing uphill with the muzzle of her submachine gun. Something rustled in the bushes behind her and she spun to level her weapon. The darkness fell suspiciously quiet and the sudden lack of birds chirping and insect skittering was as shocking as a gunshot.

“Neil take the lead I’ll bring up the rear,” she said, keeping her voice calm as her muzzle quested for a target. Keeping the two noncombatants between them they started slowly up the hill. The moonlight was bright but save, for the occasional flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, Junebug could see nothing of the creatures that were certainly hunting them. After three or for minutes of tense travel they neared the ridge line when suddenly Junebug bumped into Zalli. She risked a glance at the woman and saw that she had frozen, big eyes wide.

“Uhh Junebug,” Neil said unnecessarily drawing her attention. Atop the ridge, fifty yards away, a shadow was slinking into view, silhouetted against the moons. It was uncertain in the darkness whether it was more similar to a big cat or a gorilla but the three great pupils it opened ruled out any thought of terrain origin. Its face rippled slightly with suggestion of big teeth or fangs. The woodland behind them rustled with concealed movements as the lesser members of the things pack took their positions.

“Statistically,” Junebug observed dryly, her skin prickling with adrenaline, “We have to catch a break sooner or later.”

With a roar and a clatter of stones the thing launched itself down the steep slope towards them. Neil’s pistol roared but Junebug was already turning her attention back to the rear where a trio of smaller animals burst from concealing bushes. Offering up a quick prayer she squeezed the trigger and was relieved when the weapon snapped off the first two rounds without a hitch, sending one of the creatures tumbling away down the slope. Stars above the things were fast, even scrabbling up uneven footing. Behind her Taya and perhaps Zalli were screaming but she didn’t allow it to break her concentration. She managed to put a round into the second of the three animals a few feet before it reached her but there was no time to line up the third before it struck her. Junebug managed to parry its slashing claws with her weapon but the weight of the thing smashed her to the ground, driving the wind from her lungs.
@POOHEAD189

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Those clannish Irish Italians Germans Vietnamese Syrians will never assimilate.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Allele frequency for green eyes falling...

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Every few months I debate whether I should apply for citizenship. I'm probably not white enough for the baby maker cover. Decisions decisions.