Logbook entry

Stranded - Indigenous

22 Jul 2024Kasumi Goto
"Yeah, the planet seemed nice. At first - quickly turned out that it wasn't actually quite so 'friendly', neither to me, nor its inhabitants. And then, I began finding that there was something else, watching me, here. Something beyond the animal. I couldn't be sure, without seeing any of them, but the signs were there. And I didn't stay long enough to find out more."

"How does it look, EDI?" I glanced over the thruster assembly one last time, trying to spot anything I might have missed.

"All readings appear nominal. The module is receiving power, and fuel and coolant lines are operational.", the AI answered. "I cannot detect any further damage that requires repairs, though final checks are still in progress. They are likely to finish shortly after sunrise."

"Ok. Well, then ..."

I packed up the tools and carried them where they'd be needed last. That matter of the FSD, which I'd kind of been putting off until now. Needed to be done if I wanted to leave, though... just, not now. I'd spent a few hours doing final repairs and checks needed for the thrusters to work again, and now my brain was telling me to relax for a bit. Which I was definitely inclined to, so I dropped off the toolbox, and began to head back toward the cockpit. A deep rumble rolled through the ship as I did so, reminding me that a storm was coming.

It had started about an hour ago already, steadily coming closer and closer. The beginnings of rain began falling while I was still headed back up, through a path I'd cleared in the corridors, rather than having to heave myself up that ladder all the time. It was not a particularly simple matter, with a figure as disproportionate as mine, even if I could do it.

It wouldn't be a problem if I was still in control. Because the body that I'd be stuck with would only be half as big at most., the 'Kira' half of my mind remarked, in my head, having remained quiet throughout this endeavor up until now. Of course, she only got loud when it came to the subject of my ridiculous body.

Oh, sure. But you could have gotten in the way a bit more instead of letting me grow those curves as big as I wanted them. And as big as they can be without getting in the way too much. Besides... you like them too., I retorted.

Yes. And I'd get just as distracted as you do when your hand accidentally touches one of those thighs. Or somewhere else. But that doesn't stop me from pointing out how ridiculous and impractical as it is.

There was a brief pause, but not enough to let me come up with an answer.

And maybe you'd like to remember how it was you that loved the experience of growing nice, bigger, rounder and fatter so much, that you shoved me aside completely at 'my' right size. And then made both breasts and hips grow three times as quickly in three days. Breasts, especially, because you didn't know what restraint meant... still not sure you do. It's surprising you didn't burst out of anything in that time.

Shut up.

That was just me shooing 'her' aside in sort of a joking, playful way. But, in truth... I was blushing, pretty badly, because I knew it was right. I'd just gotten totally carried away and outgrew my body... quite massively, largely from having a somewhat premature mind. I did kind of know I wouldn't have gotten out of hand so much, if not for the unique combination of factors at the time, which did allow for it. But I was happy with it, that excessiveness, and nobody could take it away from me. Also was somewhat aware of the experience, less so through conscious witnessing, and more some... rather erotic dreams which were likely driven from my body building up mass in those specific areas overnight.

By the time I was in the cockpit, occupied by those thoughts until there, the droplets of rain had transformed into a full-on downpour, mostly visible only through the front lights of the ship. I'd left those on, just to be sure nothing was there, and avoid the situation from earlier in the planet's night.

"Well... not, going out there, I guess.", I remarked, albeit more to myself than anything, shrugging mildly.

Because there wasn't any plan on my end to go outside, nor a reason to, anyway. I settled into the pilot's seat, instead, just watching the spectacle nature provided, particularly watchful for lightning. I always did like watching it, with a healthy deal of respect for the force behind it... that was often - wrongly - misinterpreted as being "afraid" of it. But I saw a difference between fear and respecting something for what it was. Lightning definitely deserved to be treated with some respect. As did the storm, overall... seeing it light up the otherwise darkened landscape periodically, was as pretty as it was just a bit eerie, with the mountains off in the distance, to the right, and several kilometers of lake, ahead. Not to mention the strong winds howling over the plains.

Hail soon began to fall, joining the downpour in knocking on the hull. I noticed that the ice which fell into the water of the lake quickly sunk into it, only to emerge again within maybe a minute, as if carried to the surface by something. Then it dissolved just as quickly - maybe some kind of chemical substance secreted by one of the creatures, or bacteria that lived in the lake, to prevent it from freezing over? Without more than visual observation, I could only guess, but it was still a rather curious thing to see happen. If true, it explained why that wasn't a more significant problem in winter. If this planet even had anything like it. I'd reviewed some of the additional information on it and found that its axial tilt was much lesser than Earth's, below ten degrees, but still enough to create some warmer and milder climates... and, currently, the hemisphere I'd landed on was going through the warmer season. Which probably lasted about an Earth month, at best, given the short distance to the dwarf star... in relative terms.

Right now, I was a little out of things to do, neither being hungry, nor being able to head outside, both thanks to the darkness, and the ongoing thunderstorm. But I did remember something EDI had told me... 'yesterday' by my time standards.

"So, EDI... what was that... thing, you said, you had, about my body?", I inquired, rather curious about it.

"Additional information regarding it when it is adapted to survive in an ammonia biosphere, gathered through the suit's vital monitoring.", she replied. "I was able to discern that the human genetic material within the body is kept insulated from the cold, and maintained at a temperature just above zero degrees - mostly in order to minimize energy loss, rather than inability to survive it. And, in an atmosphere where the second-most prevalent gas is hydrogen, it is used for metabolic functions, while methane gas is breathed out once it has been used."

"Hm. But, would that not... smell?"

"No. In its natural state, not mixed in without other substances, methane is odorless. Humans used to mix other substances in with it on Earth, in the 21st century, in order to make it possible to pick up on a gas leak via scent. It remains gaseous even at these lower temperatures, but is not present in sufficiently high concentration to risk a combustion reaction occurring in the atmosphere. Some of the biological data collected by your scans also indicates that the local fauna and flora have evolved around this, much like Earth life has around the presence of oxygen and the carbon dioxide breathed out by fauna."

"Interesting. Anything, else?"

"Yes. While your body operates in the ammonia-compatible mode, the Thargoid-based, biomechanical components attached to your organs, and the replacements to the nervous system, function at an increased efficiency, aiding both cognitive functions and recovery, allowing the damage to your brain to be repaired faster. You may have noticed some effects yourself, though the situation overall appears to have accelerated the process by a certain degree."

"Hm ..." I thought back a bit. It had certainly gotten easier to form coherent sentences over the last couple of days. Had to be close to a week, now. "I, guess I have. Kind of just... happened, didn't think about it, much."

"Seeing as it is only beneficial, I would see no grounds to complain."

"Ha ha. Very funny. Do you still have more to tell?"

"As matter of fact, yes. Alongside the benefit of making the biomechanical components function within their native environment, your body's metabolism slows down significantly when colder. Though this does not appear to impact your reflexes or thought capabilities, it does mean that prolonged stays within this 'mode' may lengthen your lifespan in non-negligible ways, on top of the possible increase as a result of the modifications to your biology. Additionally, given your unique nature, it may have certain health benefits, though I would require more data to document those."

"So, what are are saying, is... I should spend more time in it."

"If it is possible, or you so wish, yes. The only downside is that returning to an environment in which humans live requires a significant amount of energy, which you have seen results in strong hunger, or sudden exhaustion, if not both at the same time. It also requires several hours in order for the excess nitrogen, which forms part of the ammonia that replaces water as the blood's solvent, to be safely removed from the body."

"I... guess, there could, be worse. Maybe only something to do at the end of a day, then, though." I gave that information a thought. "Would it be possible to... reconfigure, life support, for this?"

"Theoretically, yes. However, it may be simpler to just install an isolated unit, and associated storage, within the system, for that. And, as you are certainly aware, this will only be possible once you return to human space."

I made a throwaway hand gesture. "Of course, of course. I'll get to i - "

My sentence was interrupted when lightning directly struck the ground somewhere far off, and didn't just light up the area. It also caused an explosion, the loud bang of which almost overpowered the already deafening thunder, alongside an orange fireball.

"Woah! I thought you said, 'no explosions'?". I threw at EDI, adding a thought to that. 'Glad that happened over there, and not here ...'

"The explosion was not caused by methane gas.", she retorted, in the usual factual tone. "It is more likely that the intense heat was enough to cause a local ignition of a small remnant of oxygen within the air, as it does form a small part of the atmosphere, and can potentially combine with the hydrogen gas under the right circumstances."

"Like lightning."

"Correct."

"But... why has everything... well, not, exploded?"

"The energy required to achieve an ignition of the entire atmosphere would be much more significant than a single lightning bolt can produce. To cause such a chain reaction, the energy required would be much more than any human creation has been able to artificially produce."

"Oh. Uh... good, I... guess."

I didn't really want to follow that line of thinking much more, because it would, somehow, inevitably lead me back down the rabbit hole of the Titan nonsense. And one of the reasons I'd come out here was to throw it out of my mind for a while... it had also spared me from having to deal with another Titan explosion going through my head. Nobody else, except for maybe Seo, knew what that was like. Something else important to ask - in relation to this subject - did occur to me, then.

"But, ammonia, it is... nitrogen, and hydrogen. So... why haven't those two combined, here?"

"Most likely, because the pressure of the atmosphere is simply insufficient for such a reaction to take place. Human industrial processes to artificially create ammonia generally perform the reaction at a pressure of 150 to 200 atmospheres, at temperatures of 350 to 450 degrees Celsius, with an iron catalyst. In addition, the quantities of hydrogen and nitrogen in the air does not match the requirements of a mixture to create more ammonia. But there may be enough leftover oxygen that has not been eliminated, for the gases to exist in a stable manner - outside of certain extremes, as you just saw." EDI paused briefly. "I cannot exclude the existence of some mechanism in the biosphere by which water is dissociated into its constituent molecules, however, if it is found diluted in liquid ammonia, rather than frozen at the poles."

"Ok, that is... enough science, for today.", I said, beginning to feel my brain just turn off at the information flow. "I might not remember half of it... I, think... I will go take a nap, for another few hours. Wake me when it's morning."

Assuming I could sleep. Storm was still going strong outside, producing a lot of noise, and light. I kind of wished I knew how to use the implant to turn off noise reception, but I didn't exactly have any control over it, so I'd just have to make do with some ear plugs. I stood up and walked over to my personal cabin, where the shutter was still sealed. Rolled around a bit on the bed to lay on my side, which probably looked horribly clumsy... and reminded me why I generally had to avoid that pose now. Even with pillow support under the waist, it was just a really awkward position with hips that sprawled out well beyond the shoulders, not to mention that even if I had my chest flat on the bed, both breasts rested against each other... and that wasn't much fun when the 'package' up there weighed something close to five kilograms.

Not that it was much fun when I had to bear the full weight of that flat on the chest, when laid on my back, either. Luckily, I could divert some of it away from the lungs with the pillow solution as well, instead of risking to suffocate under my 'fun bags'. Because that would be a rather embarrassing - and hopelessly stupid - way to go. Died because she couldn't breathe under the weight of her oversized breasts, no one to blame but herself because she made them so big... hopefully, I'd be avoiding that particular fate. Partly because I did want to keep these, no matter how over-the-top or impractical. Or heavy.

Thinking of that quickly turned into a body teasing experience that went a little too far, only after which I was able to fall back into the void of unconsciousness. By then, the thunder had almost entirely ceased, too, and the rain drumming on the ground outside was actually rather soothing on the mind.

Shortly after sunrise ...

A wakeup alarm pulled me out of my sleep's embrace, and earned itself a muffled protesting sound as I tried to hide away from it, because I didn't really feel ready. Instinctively, I rolled over to the side to have one ear on the pillow I'd pulled under with me, and keep a hand on the other to cover it up. But all that really achieved was to knock over my pillow contraption, and cause a large bump to appear where my hips - and thighs - were, in the bed sheet, or whatever the cover for over the body was called. I just knew I couldn't sleep without that, no matter how hot it was.

I was barely awake enough to register the pillows getting knocked over by my shifting, let alone to try fixing it. Which I was not bothered to, in the zombie state I was in, instead just ignoring it. It took another while for my brain to even begin starting up, during which I rolled onto my back again... said starting up partly motivated by the muscles on my lower back beginning to complain, from having to bear the full weight of the spine... thanks to the 'package' on my lower half lifting everything up, not allowing the waist to rest directly on the mattress.

My first instinct... stretch, as usual, accompanied by a ridiculous sound. Then just remain in the stretched position for a bit, with my muscles relaxed, enjoying the feeling for a bit before I heaved myself onto the side of the bed. The lights were off until I decided to have them on, which my eyes were thankful for. I rubbed them for a second, and then put some water into them from a bottle I had right nearby, on the bedside table. Partly for that, but also drinking water. Both of which helped pull my brain out of the lull from the inconsistent sleep. I yawned once, before speaking.

"EDI... lights. Dim."

Soft glow illuminated the bedroom, making it a little less difficult to see, without overwhelming my still-weary eyes. I opened up the shutter of the cabin's window, letting in some of the natural sunlight as well. It was quite foggy outside, probably a result of the humidity, between the storm from the night, and the lake. Made for a good view, though... hopefully, I wouldn't need to be too concerned about corrosion from that ammonia vapor, though.

Or to my suit. I was planning to take a quick look around the ship itself, before taking off, now that the sun was out again... but wasn't sure about it, even with a - supposedly - corrosion resistant layer on the outside of it. Then again, I'd only spend a few minutes out there, so it would probably be fine. First, though... food. I could really feel my stomach asking to be stuffed with something, so I threw some bread - the last of my reserves, annoyingly - and cereal into myself, and brushed my teeth afterward, before tending to the other tasks. Which also gave my brain more time to wake up and form words properly.

"So, EDI... are those thruster checks, done?", I asked, as I dressed up.

"Yes. All readings suggest they operate within parameters.", the AI told me.

"Great. But ..." I definitely still remembered that landing. "Should I worry about the landing gear?"

"I have already analyzed it - internal sensors in the lower section are functional again, thanks to your repairs restoring power. There may be some minor stress fractures on the front gear, but it is unlikely to be an issue, unless you attempt to land on a planet with particularly high gravity on your way back."

"... I, was not. But, good, I guess."

That was something in favor of the landing gear 'legs' of this ship. They were quite sturdy, with it being a multipurpose vessel and all that, not to mention its medium size, which required larger contact surfaces to distribute the weight across, not like the ridiculous thin strips of metal holding up some of the smaller ships, which would probably break as soon as there was a small dent in one. I'd still look at the hull myself, anyway, so I went down to the armory to pick up the suit and helmet, where I'd left them to be repaired. Had no plans to really "change" for just a short stay outside, but assuming that this short takeoff went as planned, I had at least one other thing in mind, which could use it.

Upon leaving through the airlock, and climbing down the ladder, I moved away from the ship some, in the direction of the forest. There was definitely some marks on the exterior of the ship where the ammonia had 'bitten' into it, and what little remained of the paintjob had also been mostly stripped.

'At least it leaves it clean for another one, I guess ...', I thought to myself, and moved closer again.

"Hm ..."

There were some odd tracks around the ship. I followed them, circling the hull. Didn't look like the animal 'paw' prints I'd seen earlier, and not like one of the winged nightmares either. This, was something else. Eventually, I spotted what looked like an inscription, that had been etched into the hull, near the cockpit. Not just something clawing at it, but quite deliberate marks.

"EDI... did, you see anything, going around the ship, before the night?", I inquired, both out of curiosity, and precaution.

"No.", she replied. "I was only able to restore external sensor functionality overnight, and all of the cameras that would provide a view of the ship's underside are currently not accessible."

"Hm. Ok ..."

I decided to take a snapshot of that strange inscription myself - couldn't help but feel like it resembled some sort of drawing, or glyphs, maybe. I'd have to show that to someone who specialized in possible alien languages, once I returned... and ask the repair crews to not remove it, just in case. But I couldn't do much more with this, so I just went back into the ship, retracted the back ladder, and entered, mindful to leave these boots in the airlock after shaking off some of the dew that'd remained on them, outside. Corrosion-resistant layer did seem to be doing its work, though. Also put the helmet into the storage box here. Now to go back to the cockpit and move the ship... cautiously.

"Okay. Time to move it, EDI.", I said, while sitting down in the pilot's seat.

Wasn't really necessary, but I just felt like that, and began flicking switches to turn the thrusters up to full power. Main assembly... check. Verticals... check. Laterals... also fine, mostly. One of them had a hiccup, but I just left them off, instead - they would have been convenient for precision maneuvering, but weren't strictly necessary. Reverse thrust came on without a hitch.

"Here it goes ..."

I engaged upward thrust with the stick in my right hand, getting no response at first. No forward, because I didn't want to end up in the lake itself. I kept at it, and the ship eventually came loose with a jolt, pulling itself out of the ground. Soil fell off as the hull separated itself from the surface, hovering steadily a few meters above it, pushing down surrounding grass.

"Ha! I knew you could do it!" I gave the dashboard a fist tap, then quickly returned the hand to the controls, just in case. The only problem - I couldn't see much in this fog. "EDI, nav marker for the cave, please?"

A purple icon popped up on the canopy, telling me where to go. I first turned the ship that way, then gently pushed the throttle to about a hundred meters per second. Since it was only a couple of kilometers, that was more than sufficient, and I didn't want to strain the machinery, in case there was more damage than anticipated. Though it seemed like EDI had also done some repair work using the AFMU, given that the vertical thrusters were functioning mostly fine, even though they would've picked up some scrapes from the landing. Apparently, nothing bad enough to put one out of action unless it saw some dock repairs.

Once I was right by the cave, I hit the button to deploy the landing gear, which itself took a moment, because it had to shake off some dirt of its own, first. The front leg was also a little slower to come down, compared to the two at the back. And now... the parking job. Hopefully, to do it better than I navigated crowds without bumping anybody now.

"EDI, is the shield working? Could use it, here."

"The generator is functional. It will require a moment to power up."

"Good enough."

Using the compass-style marker to the left of the radar, I aligned the back of the ship with the cave entrance, not minding the proximity warnings too much. When the hollow dot was right in the center, I stopped movement, waiting for the shield to come up. It could prevent picking up any unnecessary scratches, if I was not perfectly aligned, but apparently I had that down pretty well. I zeroed the throttle one I saw a solid rock overhang above the canopy, and checked the position with one of the external cameras. Maybe back a little more... and that was it. I put the ship down on the ground, with the usual jerk that occurred when thrusters cut off automatically upon landing... and waited an anxious few seconds to see if the front gear could still take the weight. All was fine, though.

Now I could finally check the vehicle bay. The display up here in the cockpit still showed the Scarab in red - missing, quite evidently. There was also an error message about hangar 2 of the bay being stuck open, and some foreign contaminant material. Probably, just dirt caught in it. Would be easy to remove, if I had a broom... wasn't something I felt like sucking up with a hoover, considering that it would probably contain ammonia, and I wasn't totally sure if it held on to its corrosive properties when held in soil. Probably better to not find out.

"Alright... EDI, remind me... that signal, from the Scarab, it was a few kilometers from the crash?", I asked, looking for reassurance.

"According to the signal which you picked up, yes.", she answered. "However, there is the possibility it is further away than that. I would also advise caution while investigating it. The limited information I was able to gather on the local ecosystem thus far suggests that there may be a higher presence of predatory life, in that area."

"I... guess, it is a good thing, I am bringing guns."

Namely, the Scorpion, but also my plasma pistol. Which I found was still attached to the pilot's seat after the 'encounter' in the night cycle of the planet, so I didn't need to go searching far for it. I shut everything except life support and sensors off, went back to the rear airlock to pick up my boots and helmet again, then down to the vehicle bay. At least the Scarab's hangar was now accessible, but clearly marked with a warning symbol on its access panel.

"EDI, is the air in there cold?"

"Yes. As the hangar is not sealed, it is exposed to the outside environment.", the AI informed me.

"Oh. Well, then ..."

I put on my helmet and, to get access, sealed off the entire vehicle bay from the rest of the ship. It looked about as messy in the second hangar as I expected in there, with dirt splattered across the walls, on the ledges from which to access controls and the vehicle... if it were there. As was, I just looked at empty space, a lot of free-hanging wires, missing panels that were probably scattered across a large distance, and the opening down below. At least, it seemed like the hangar doors were still there... but just stuck, as hitting the 'close' button made them, basically, not move.

"Hmph. I guess, this is staying open.", I remarked, somewhat annoyed, hands on hips.

"I may be able to repair the door mechanism with the field-maintenance unit.", EDI brought up, removing one additional concern from my mind. "It appears to merely have malfunctioned during the ship's first impact with the ground, hence why the vehicle is also missing. However, this also protected it from additional damage, to a degree."

I looked around the hangar. "... but not the rest of it." I sighed. "I am going looking for it, now. If nothing else, I might find something worth recovering, at least. Also, before I do... if I can't get the FSD-thingy fixed, do I at least have a working distress beacon?"

"I have managed to reactivate external communications, so it would be possible to send out a distress signal. However, I am confident you will manage to repair it, once you get to it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I didn't really believe in that.

"It would be more practical to repair the Frame Shift Drive, rather than attempt to hope for rescue, given that we are in deep space. Ship databanks come with detailed maintenance and repair manuals, so I would be able to guide you... though, should it not succeed, a makeshift beacon can also be constructed using SRV components."

"Well... I am going out, there, anyway. So, might, just as well."

I wandered back into the Scorpion's hangar, and lowered it to the ground. I followed via a ladder, and hopped in, running a quick diagnostic, but this thing had survived the crash landing pretty much unscathed... which I certainly wasn't going to complain about. I pulled up the signal marker for where the Scarab's beacon had been picked up... eight kilometers, give or take, but in a straight line. Would have to drive around to the mark my ship had left in the landscape, thanks to the mountainous terrain partly extending toward the plains in that direction. Still, would not be too long...

The world appeared to still be waking up, so I wasn't too concerned about running into any wildlife. Likely wouldn't spend long enough out here to run into any issue with corrosion on the Scorpion, either, though I had some concern regarding the tires. Hopefully they'd be fine, and at worst, the vehicle hangar came with repair systems anyway. As I began to follow the new landmark in the form of a ship-made trench, driving along the side to remain on flat ground, I set myself up with the expectation of finding a useless, mangled pile of metals and electronics.

What I did find was not even that, but... a small part of it, in the middle of the second half of the trench. Which, of course, ended up being a section of the communications array, the one that 'talked' back to the ship. Pretty banged up, too, barely working. Which explained the faint signal.

"Would have been too easy ...", I muttered to myself, dragging this piece of the Scarab back to the Scorpion. I could see quite a few more pieces of metal laying around, possibly from the inside of the Scarab bay... nothing large enough to be a hull piece, anyway. I wanted those on to make it back out of the atmosphere without the ship exploding, so it arranged me.

As I drove, I couldn't help but notice how closely I'd avoided colliding with the part of the mountain which extended further out into the plains. A few more meters to the right, and the ship could have gotten caught on it, sending it into an uncontrollable spin. Or, worse, right into it, which I would definitely not have survived. But that hadn't happened.

The Scarab's main wreckage turned out to be closer to the 'beginning' point of the trench, where the Phantom had first dug into the ground after the bounce. Which, itself, had to be several more kilometers away. But rather than within the trench, the remnants of the vehicle, surrounded by parts of its suspension, tires, the vertical thrusters... lay close to the edge. Along with the corpse of an animal - one of those strange, bush-like ones. The fog had gone by now, allowing me to see it clearly from a distance.

I moved the Scorpion to within a hundred meters, and got out there to move closer on foot, careful to watch my surroundings. Even if nobody was here right now, that carcass could attract scavengers, or other predators looking for an easy meal. And it couldn't have been dead for long, because there weren't even early signs of decomposition. I found a clue as to what, or who, had killed it, by several stab marks in its hide, and, rather surprisingly, what resembled a spear still embedded in it. But not one made for anything that resembled a human hand, or not sufficiently that it would have been easy for me to grab. So I left it be where it was, and checked if I had the bio scanner with me. Sure enough, my subconscious impulses had brought it along, prompting me to run a quick analysis of the body.

The first reading confirmed that it hadn't been dead for long, killed either by loss of blood - which I could see pooling beneath the animal, in sort of a strange, almost purple-ish color - or the spear wounds. Probably both.

The second reading was the more curious, in that it simply said 'Foreign matter detected'. I wondered where from, for a moment, before pointing my scanner at the 'spear', expectedly made out of wood, which was just as black as the bark of the trees I'd seen. A tip made out of metal stuck out just barely enough to be seen, and the scanner confirmed my suspicion. It wasn't other creatures that'd killed this one, but whoever had made that spear. So there probably were some natives around that were more intelligent than the average animal, but still at a relatively early stage. The markings on my ship seemed to suggest that, as well... made me wonder what they thought of that when they'd found it, just as I was absent. And had they been observing me? Maybe.

Also had to wonder just why that spear had been left in the body of the creature, as if to mark the kill. But why not just take it for the food it offered?

I decided to examine the Scarab, next. Definitely had been eaten at a bit by the corrosive rain, and I doubted I'd really be able to get much out of it at this point, let alone drag it back to the ship. It was thoroughly in pieces, from the crash alone, its window shattered, the chassis pulled apart at various different spot, leaving only some of the central frame. Not to mention the drag marks leading out of the trench, explaining why it was here and not in there, and that several bits and pieces of the vehicle had clearly just been pulled out in the last few days, too.

One amusing thought relating to that... was the question these natives possibly asked themselves upon seeing that absurdly sized seat, in regards to the lower half of it, anyway, and what kind of creature would possibly need it. But I only briefly contemplated it, before opening up the back of the vehicle. It couldn't be recovered in its entirety, but it still had a few valuable components to it. The power regulator, for one, and the reinforced housing appeared to have kept it intact. Then there was the... remaining pieces of the comms unit. I was most interested in the part that was dedicated to sending out distress signals. That one was also still there, luckily.

My sixth sense suddenly went off, giving me that distinct feeling of being watched. I left the distress beacon component where I'd pulled it out, and quickly turned around, to see some of those ambush predators that strongly resembled a bush, approaching, slowly.

'Of course ...'

Would have really been too easy without that kind of complication. I pondered my possible actions for a moment, but there was four of them, and no good way out between them. They were definitely aware of that, and that they had the numbers advantage - four against one. But I did have a highly advanced weapon... and a spear. I pulled out the weapon, which was a bit strange to hold, as if meant to be used with three finger, or claws, and pointed it out with the left hand, pistol in the right. I didn't want to harm those creatures, but they had me cornered. Wasn't getting out of this without a fight...

Suddenly, the largest one - pack leader, possibly - lifted one of its legs, and head, gave off a high-pitched noise, after which all four ran off. Confused, I lowered the spear-like weapon, which clearly used some kind of corrosion-resistant metal as its tip, and looked around. I couldn't see any bigger creatures, or even anything else, approaching, all around, and there wasn't exactly any was for them to be concealed, with the forest well over a kilometer away.

"Kira, you need to seek shelter immediately.", EDI suddenly warned me. But that only added to my confusion.

"What? Why?"

"I have detected the signs of a radiation surge from the neutron star. It will kill you if you are not in a vehicle, at the very least."

"Oh... right, right. The instability. Explains why those creatures ran off. But I need to get this distress beacon thingy first!"

"You have only a minute. It is not worth the risk."

"I already have it pulled out! And this thing will get fried otherwise."

I reached into the exposed innards of the Scarab and pulled out the component, dropping the spear and stowing my pistol in the process. Then I began to cover the roughly hundred meters back to the Scorpion, keeping a very close eye on the timer. Hopefully, it was accurate. Already, I received a radiation warning at just thirty seconds left, and I could clearly see the vegetation around me reacting in strange ways to protect itself from the destructive energy.

"You need to hurry, Kira."

"I am trying! I can only go so fast."

I could only manage a light jog at best right now. It would even have been easier to just hop like I would on a low gravity world, but that was just not possible at three quarters Earth gravity. Rather than try to squeeze into the Scorpion through the access hatch, I popped open the windshield and quickly heaved myself in there, kind of tossing the beacon into the back to free my second hand. I'd barely closed it up for a few seconds and thrown all power into the shield when the atmosphere took on all kinds of funny colors. Red, green, pink... and those were just three of the many as the planet's magnetic field was bombarded with the radiation from the dead star.

It was a pretty spectacle, to be sure, but I wasn't convinced I was supposed to enjoy it, considering that it was the kind of thing that could kill entire worlds in just a few seconds. It only lasted a few minutes, then the colors returned to normal.

"Was that, it?" I couldn't be too careful.

"Yes.", EDI replied. "It appears the shielding of the Scorpion was sufficient to ensure you survived. I am not detecting any immediate adverse effects, or damage to your DNA."

"Well... one more thing I survived, on this planet. Think I might want to leave, soon ..."

"You still have to repair the Frame Shift Drive for it."

I gave off an annoyed sound. "I know. Haven't forgotten." I looked around again. Trees, bushes and grass alike were unfurling again, as if showing the sensitive parts of their organisms again, now that the lethal energy had stopped bombarding the world, and it could go back to living again. "How often, do you think, does this happen?"

"I would require more data on the events to be certain, but they appear infrequent and predictable enough that the biosphere has adapted to it, and also allows the magnetic field to regenerate sufficiently before the next radiation surge."

"That is... interesting, I guess. But I'm just... going to come back, now. Can't recover that other vehicle, anyway."

I returned power to the other systems of the Scorpion, now that the risk of getting fried alive had passed, and set off for the drive back to my ship. It would only be about an hour before I was back there... and I was really getting ready to just leave this damned hellhole. Or if I couldn't, at least set up a distress beacon for somebody to hopefully pick up on, if they passed by at the right time, or close enough to here.
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