MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Blood on the Horizon (Alternate beginnings)
Unknown Star system, Manassas March 15, 3000
"It's a good thing I'm descended from generations of farmers," I sighed as I looked at the seed stocks that had been stowed away in vacuum-sealed containers. "I'm gonna have to load up some of those tractors too."
Thankfully, the Star League Engineers had long since figured out how to move cargo from Warships and Jumpships and into the dropships docked to them, and I simply had to follow directions to transfer the equipment over.
"I'm not going to need the ASFs," I removed the Stuka and other ASF from the Last of Us' bays and began moving over what I would need to live down on the surface below. "So let's do something useful."
Two multipurpose tractors were relocated into the bays, with seeds and everything else that would be needed, stowed where the munitions once would have gone.
Then, I carefully moved the specialty gear that I was bringing along as well, a computer core and some other advanced tech. The Nighthawk might be somewhat bulky, but it could make the difference if I needed to do some heavy lifting.
"Sorry, old girl," I patted the Manassas before moving into the Last of Us, the emergency lighting dimming out into an inky blackness as the generators ran through the shutdown sequence I had started. "You did good, I'm just not the man to get you working again."
I floated downward into the dropship as a tear fluttered away.
Hitting the switch, I detached the dropship from the docking clamps and sat down in the pilot's chair before strapping in.
Using the controls, I triggered the maneuvering thrusters, the small jets pushing the nose of the dropship away from the Manassas and settling on the course the autopilot plotted out.
Once the minimum safe distance had been reached, the computers triggered the fusion drives, the acceleration slowly increasing the gravity until it reached a pleasant 1G.
Unstrapping myself from the chair, I made my way into the ship's gym. A weeklong journey was no excuse to let my discipline slack.
–
–
It turns out that landing a dropship was easy if all you had to do were follow the basic instructions the computer gave you. But I didn't even want to think about attempting a landing under a combat scenario.
The thrusters of the Last of Us beat local physics into place as the dropship eased down in an open plain, the legs extended to stabilize the Confederate as she scorched the earth below.
"Air's breathable," I looked at the scans. "Looks like 1.1Gs, and a thirty-six hour day."
I pulled the SLN uniform off and sighed in relief as I slid a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt on, the tennis-shoes finishing the wear as I lowered the ramp and walked outside, the fresh air and sunlight bringing a grin to my face.
"She's a bit of a fixer-upper," I looked out over the field at the distant trees. "But I think she's home."
Two years later…
"This is the life," I leaned back against the log cabin I had built and chuckled as I looked at the planted field in front of me, the nearby chicken's clearing out the few insects that had made their way into the crops I had planted.
The handful of buildings that I had constructed over the last two years were powered by a spare fusion generator. The chickens had come from fertilized eggs that had been stored on the Manassas, and the first batch had barely made it with the jury-rigged incubator that I had made. After a year or so, though, I had enough chickens that I could eat both eggs and chickens when I felt like it. The few roosters that I had kept around and out of the cooking pot took care of the flocks while I tended to the wheat and vegetable gardens.
The planet was too cool to grow coffee beans, but I didn't find that I needed them anymore. My life was content, even if it was a lonely one. Maybe after this harvest, I would hook up the cry pod and see if I could sleep away some of the years.
Shaking my head, I stopped woolgathering and used the nearby ladder to climb into the Warhammer that was parked outside of my cabin, the view giving me a vantage point over most of the valley.
Taking a sip of the water I had with me, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the missile racks before opening them to see the local sun dipping below the horizon and showering the area with streaks of purple and blue.
"Some things, are worth watching, no matter how many times you get to see it."
After watching the sun set, I climbed down and went back into the cabin, the lights coming on as the darkness settled over the planet, the stars becoming visible as the alien sky stared back at me.
–
–
"Year two," I spoke into a small voice recorder as I sat down to eat my dinner. "Rescue beacon is good and apparently able to last for sixty to seventy years before needing service. I'm going to look into going for the stasis option once I've taken care of this year's harvest."
I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully as I thought about what to say next. "Chickens are probably going to need to be set up for the future if I do so. While I haven't seen any local predators that doesn't mean they don't exist."
I drank some more water before turning to my science experiment and pouring a small glass.
"Vodka test forty-five," I muttered as I sipped the shot, a small grimace on my face as I swallowed. "We're closer on the distillation process," I coughed. "But they should have written the directions better on the data core."
I drank some more water to wash down the taste before moving over to my bed.
"I'll have to go check on the dropship tomorrow," I made a mark on the rough wall to signify another day having passed. "Make sure that it's faring the elements well."
And so, closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep, the sound of the wind and creek acting as my lullaby.
Author's Note: This is the other way I considered writing Blood on the Horizon. It's not quite as fantastical. No Warship piloting, no merc unit. Just someone trying to Robinson Crusoe his life as he's stranded. At least… That is until the Clans show up.
Unknown Star system, Manassas March 15, 3000
"It's a good thing I'm descended from generations of farmers," I sighed as I looked at the seed stocks that had been stowed away in vacuum-sealed containers. "I'm gonna have to load up some of those tractors too."
Thankfully, the Star League Engineers had long since figured out how to move cargo from Warships and Jumpships and into the dropships docked to them, and I simply had to follow directions to transfer the equipment over.
"I'm not going to need the ASFs," I removed the Stuka and other ASF from the Last of Us' bays and began moving over what I would need to live down on the surface below. "So let's do something useful."
Two multipurpose tractors were relocated into the bays, with seeds and everything else that would be needed, stowed where the munitions once would have gone.
Then, I carefully moved the specialty gear that I was bringing along as well, a computer core and some other advanced tech. The Nighthawk might be somewhat bulky, but it could make the difference if I needed to do some heavy lifting.
"Sorry, old girl," I patted the Manassas before moving into the Last of Us, the emergency lighting dimming out into an inky blackness as the generators ran through the shutdown sequence I had started. "You did good, I'm just not the man to get you working again."
I floated downward into the dropship as a tear fluttered away.
Hitting the switch, I detached the dropship from the docking clamps and sat down in the pilot's chair before strapping in.
Using the controls, I triggered the maneuvering thrusters, the small jets pushing the nose of the dropship away from the Manassas and settling on the course the autopilot plotted out.
Once the minimum safe distance had been reached, the computers triggered the fusion drives, the acceleration slowly increasing the gravity until it reached a pleasant 1G.
Unstrapping myself from the chair, I made my way into the ship's gym. A weeklong journey was no excuse to let my discipline slack.
–
–
It turns out that landing a dropship was easy if all you had to do were follow the basic instructions the computer gave you. But I didn't even want to think about attempting a landing under a combat scenario.
The thrusters of the Last of Us beat local physics into place as the dropship eased down in an open plain, the legs extended to stabilize the Confederate as she scorched the earth below.
"Air's breathable," I looked at the scans. "Looks like 1.1Gs, and a thirty-six hour day."
I pulled the SLN uniform off and sighed in relief as I slid a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt on, the tennis-shoes finishing the wear as I lowered the ramp and walked outside, the fresh air and sunlight bringing a grin to my face.
"She's a bit of a fixer-upper," I looked out over the field at the distant trees. "But I think she's home."
Two years later…
"This is the life," I leaned back against the log cabin I had built and chuckled as I looked at the planted field in front of me, the nearby chicken's clearing out the few insects that had made their way into the crops I had planted.
The handful of buildings that I had constructed over the last two years were powered by a spare fusion generator. The chickens had come from fertilized eggs that had been stored on the Manassas, and the first batch had barely made it with the jury-rigged incubator that I had made. After a year or so, though, I had enough chickens that I could eat both eggs and chickens when I felt like it. The few roosters that I had kept around and out of the cooking pot took care of the flocks while I tended to the wheat and vegetable gardens.
The planet was too cool to grow coffee beans, but I didn't find that I needed them anymore. My life was content, even if it was a lonely one. Maybe after this harvest, I would hook up the cry pod and see if I could sleep away some of the years.
Shaking my head, I stopped woolgathering and used the nearby ladder to climb into the Warhammer that was parked outside of my cabin, the view giving me a vantage point over most of the valley.
Taking a sip of the water I had with me, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the missile racks before opening them to see the local sun dipping below the horizon and showering the area with streaks of purple and blue.
"Some things, are worth watching, no matter how many times you get to see it."
After watching the sun set, I climbed down and went back into the cabin, the lights coming on as the darkness settled over the planet, the stars becoming visible as the alien sky stared back at me.
–
–
"Year two," I spoke into a small voice recorder as I sat down to eat my dinner. "Rescue beacon is good and apparently able to last for sixty to seventy years before needing service. I'm going to look into going for the stasis option once I've taken care of this year's harvest."
I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully as I thought about what to say next. "Chickens are probably going to need to be set up for the future if I do so. While I haven't seen any local predators that doesn't mean they don't exist."
I drank some more water before turning to my science experiment and pouring a small glass.
"Vodka test forty-five," I muttered as I sipped the shot, a small grimace on my face as I swallowed. "We're closer on the distillation process," I coughed. "But they should have written the directions better on the data core."
I drank some more water to wash down the taste before moving over to my bed.
"I'll have to go check on the dropship tomorrow," I made a mark on the rough wall to signify another day having passed. "Make sure that it's faring the elements well."
And so, closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep, the sound of the wind and creek acting as my lullaby.
Author's Note: This is the other way I considered writing Blood on the Horizon. It's not quite as fantastical. No Warship piloting, no merc unit. Just someone trying to Robinson Crusoe his life as he's stranded. At least… That is until the Clans show up.