Logbook entry

Doing the right thing, 3 : Not quite according to plan.

26 Jan 2022Alysianne
[05 Jan 3308]

Oh dear, that’s fast. Sprinting across the open ground, I pick up way more speed than I anticipated. I still haven’t gotten much low-gravity surface experience yet, and having grown up on a relatively high-grav Earth-like, let’s say I didn’t quite expect how dramatic the change would be. Especially with the Dominator’s assisted movement functionality.
I slow down as best I can when I get close to the building I’m aiming for, sliding a bit as my boots scrape through the layer of snow to the ice underneath, and turn around at the last second to flatten myself against the wall. Oof. Not as gracious as I’d like, but the suit eats the brunt of the shock, so it’ll do. I really got to pay attention to these things, don’t I ?

My back to the structure, I take a second to calm my breathing as I look over to the looming figure of Kingfisher right in front of me. A Python may only qualify as a “medium” ship, but it’s already almost as long as the settlement is large. And easily as tall as most of the buildings here. What in the world were those scavengers thinking, that I was some shieldless, weaponless Gold Universal goon flying an E-rated Python? Welp I’m sorry but it turns out Kingfisher sports a class 6A thermal resistant shield, and that her multicannons have been tinkered with by that Todd McBlaster guy himself, overcharged way beyond the normal Delacy safety regulations. Too bad for them. Ha.
I look up to the top of the building I’m leaning against. Might as well get some high ground to try and figure out where those idiots are hiding. Plus, there should be plenty of ventilation ducts and whatnot up there to take cover behind.

My decision made, I crouch down and, in a much more controlled way than my frantic sprint across the open ground, I push myself upwards in a low-gravity jump. The feeling is surreal. With barely an effort I kick off the ground and soar straight up, clearing the top of the building I was leaning against. Oh dear oh no alright, I’m super exposed right now… but before long my ascent slows, and I start coming back down. A slight push of my suit’s jetpack easily adjusts my course to land on the ledge, and I immediately crouch down as low as I can behind some large box-shaped outcropping on the building’s roof. Still no movement… No sign of fire, or any other activity from what I can see. I let out a long breath. A resounding success so far, hah.
I edge my way across to the other side of the roof and look down at some sort of internal courtyard between the buildings. There’s the place I’m sat on on one side, which seems to be the central nexus of the research facility, with the other buildings of the settlement on the other – a couple habitations, a comm tower and some turrets. The place is dotted with container crates and other structures I can’t figure out the use for, so my targets could be hiding anywhere. Alright. I heft my plasma rifle, and keep my eyes trained for any sign of life.
There. My suit’s radar picks up a signal source from down there. And another. I wait for a second… Only two, for now at least. They appear to be patrolling that central area, on opposite ends of the settlement – and, sure enough, a few seconds later, a dark-clad figure appears briefly between two containers to my left. Then the other emerges from behind a settlement defense turret to my right, slowly walking across a patch of open ground with their head on a swivel. Looking for me. I dip down behind the ledge, losing them from sight, and retreat back across the roof to keep their sensors from picking up my suit’s signature.
I think my only choice is to take one out while the other’s on the opposite end of the place, then take out the second while they head over to investigate, and take cover again before the remaining scavs can figure out what happened. I already took down two in my ship, and they likely didn’t come with an army, so there shouldn’t be much more than five or six, tops. That leaves me in a one on two situation if I can take these two out, not ideal but I can deal with it – despite not being top-notch, my equipment is still military-grade. And I don’t expect these guys to have much more than a scrappy Maverick to fight in.

Alright, let’s go. I crawl back up to the edge, and take a look over the settlement. They’ve just crossed each other at the center, and are now making their way to the edges of the place – perfect, that means they’ll have their backs turned to each other. I point my rifle to a spot of open ground one should be crossing soon. Resting the side of my helmet on the top of the rifle’s stock, I look down the scope. And wait. I slow down my breath like I was taught. In. Out.
These few seconds last forever. Finally, the scavenger’s figure appears in the open. Breathe in. My finger curls around the trigger. They take a few steps, appearing clearly in my line of sight. Breathe out slowly, and in that moment, calmly press down.
The rifle lurches in my grip, pushing back against my shoulder, and a searing purple slug of superheated plasma streaks out, flying to its target. It hits the scavenger squarely in their shoulder, instantly shattering their shield and almost certainly punching through to damage the suit. The force of the hit makes them stumble, but they immediately find their footing again, raising their weapon and looking around frantically. Thankfully, the Executioner’s magazine can hold up to three shots’ worth of ammo, so I just bring the crosshairs back to the scavenger’s figure before they decide to leap for cover. Breathe in, breathe out, and fire again. This time the shot hits them between the shoulder blades. They are thrown forward violently in the low grav, crumple to the ground, and stop moving.
I take another deep breath, trying to calm my nerves as my heartbeat runs riot in my chest. Thankfully my hands are still steady. Now for the second one.
A few seconds later the second scavenger comes running out of cover to their fallen comrade. Idiot, they clearly don’t know what they’re doing. I take aim again, anticipating their movement to try and catch them with the relatively slow-moving plasma slug, and fire. Damn. I aimed too close, and the shot hit the ground behind them. Although the lack of atmosphere means they haven’t heard me miss, so they don’t know I’m firing at them.
Alright. That gives me time to reload. Pushing forward the barrel’s grip, I make the front half of the weapon slide forward, exposing the empty plasma shell and ejecting it from its chamber. I grab a loaded one from the pouch on my left thigh, fit it in the slot, and pull the grip back towards me. The rifle’s mechanism locks the new shell in place, and the purplish glow of plasma seeps through once more. Perfect.
In the second or so it took me to do this, the scavenger got to their fallen friend and is kneeling beside them, no doubt checking their vitals. I train the crosshairs to their exposed back, breathe out, and fire. The hit throws them to the ground, and before they get back up fully I pin them down with a second shot. They don’t move again.

It’s very different to cut down someone head-to-head than fight them in a ship, isn’t it? When you’re dancing around a combat zone in a zooming dogfighter, fighting the Gs and doing your best to get the enemy ships into your hardpoints’ scopes, you can almost forget there’s another human like you in that vessel whose powerplant you’re punching through. Another human whose systems are malfunctioning, whose Covas is loudly saying emergency alerts on repeat as their ship lurches from your sustained fire, another human just as terrified as you are when you huddle in your cramped escape pod and pull the eject strap. Although many don’t even the have time to do that, do they. You don’t see their faces when they die in a hellscape of burning fuel, metal shards and freezing, airless outer space.
It’s a cutthroat galaxy, and sometimes these things have to be done. Or they’ll be done to you. And whoever you find in these combat zones are soldiers – they know they might die. But still, fighting highly armed flying metal boxes of death does make the pill a bit easier to swallow than when you look at someone in the eyes and pull the trigger.

I try not to think too much about these things as I scurry back to cover. As I said, it’s an unforgiving galaxy, and I don’t have the luxury to wallow in existential despair right now. I have a mission to complete, people are counting on me, scavenging is illegal and they knew the risks, so let’s just get this done with.
Alright, where are the last ones ? I’m almost sure there were more – they came here to pilfer GU’s equipment, so most likely the two outside were standing guard as the others went inside.
I make my way across the rooftop toward the main building’s entrance. If they went somewhere, it’s in here – this is where all the lab equipment and energy production is. Sure enough, as I crane my neck to look over the ledge to the front airlock, the red maintenance panel’s cover is lying on the ground next to a irregular cut in the wall, and the door is open.
Oh shit. There’s also a scavenger pressed against the wall right next to the door, peering across the corner of the building to the bodies of their companions. They’re holding a Manticore Executioner like mine at the ready, keeping a lookout for any movement. Their back is turned to me.
It’s my chance, now or never. I heft my own rifle, pointing it to the back of the scavenger’s head, and breathe in. My finger curls around the trigger once more. And –
Several things slam into my back in quick succession, throwing my aim off kilter and making my shot go wide. Ahhhh! What the – I spin around, and find another scavenger. Pointing an automatic kinetic rifle straight at me. Firing relentlessly into my shield. Fuck. Triple fuck.
I bring my weapon up, pointing it at them, not bothering to aim at this close range, and press the trigger. The weapon clicks slightly. Nothing happens. I glance frantically at the holo-projection of the remaining shots - magazine empty. The scavenger fires another salvo at me.
Panic surges in my chest. Shit, shit, shit, reload goddammit quick, quick, where are my bloody plasma shells, fucking – argh, I went too fast, the shell didn’t fit properly in the chamber before I pulled the barrel grip back and now it’s stuck – damn the force of that machine gun fire is strong. Quit fumbling with the loading chamber you buffon – slam – THERE, now pull back the thingy – it worked ! Alright now bring it up and – oh shit my shield broke. The machine gun fire pounds directly on my chesplate, and it hurts like breaking all my ribs at once. My first shot goes wide. I get up on my knee to get a better aim. My second shot slams into their chest, shattering their shield and throwing them against the wall. My third goes straight through their helmet’s visor.
I take a painful, shaky breath. My everything hurts. I feel uncontrollably jittery from the adrenaline coursing through me and my brain just barely registered what happened. Oh god, I messed that scav up proper, didn’t I. Ahhhf... Right, I should probably reload my gun. I fired three shots. I think. Alright. Uh, push the thingy forward, and now the shell out and -

A train hits me between my shoulder blades. Something snaps in my neck. I barely register the wall corner flying toward my face before my helmet cracks into it. My back and shoulders are burning hot. My mouth tastes like iron. Everything is so blurry… Darkness…

Black.
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