Chapter 3: Uninvited Guest
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 full of food to a remote station located on this planet’s northern pole, but on the way down from the orbiting jump carrier a storm had rolled in. Weather patterns on Borealis were unpredictable on the best of days, and seemed downright hostile on others, as if the world itself was trying to knock you out of the sky. This was one of those days, and she struggled with the vessel’s flight stick as she tried to locate her destination, circling as best she could in order to shed some of the speed she still retained from atmospheric insertion.
She had coordinates to the base, but this planet was primitive and did not have GPS satellites in orbit, so the computer had to rely on surface mapping to determine her location. The scanners were having problems penetrating the thick snow, and so the ghostly, orange line drawing of the ground that was scrolling across her HUD was patchy and incomplete.
Just when she thought she might have to fire her main engines and head back to space, she saw it, a geometric blob on her display that could only be a man-made structure. She angled her dropship towards it and began her descent.
Schaffer was jolted awake by the sound of engines, the storm was in full swing and the pack was taking shelter inside, could it be the supply shuttle? They usually called ahead to let him know that they were on their way, but he had received no such message, perhaps the blizzard was interfering with their communications?
He scrambled out of the pile of furry aliens, many of whom had also been roused by the noise, their round ears swiveling atop their heads to track its source. They weren’t afraid, they knew what shuttles were by now, but this was still an unannounced visit. He rose to his feet and pulled on a nearby pair of pants, hurrying through the sterile corridors of the installation on his way to the entrance. He looked out of the porthole embedded in the reinforced metal door, squinting his eyes against the ceaseless torrent of snow, trying to make out the shape of a shuttle or the telltale flare of a thruster through the powder.
He couldn’t see three feet in front of him, landing a shuttle in these winds would be dangerous enough, never mind the low visibility. He needed to get out there and find out what the hell was going on. He retrieved an environment suit from a rack by the door, they had internal heating elements that would protect him from the planet’s blistering cold for a time, they also had a flashlight attachment that he might be able to use to signal the pilot.
He heard footsteps behind him, claws clicking on the deck as Zagza approached, the massive Alpha male’s head skirting the ceiling. He looked concerned, standing with his arms crossed across his barrel chest and cocking his head at Schaffer. He was by far the largest ... anything, that Schaffer had ever laid eyes on. Broad shouldered, and with a weight lifter’s gut to match his impressive musculature, he stood almost nine feet tall and served as the pack’s leader.
“I have to go out, big guy,” he said as he gestured to the door. The alien understood well enough, and Schaffer signaled for him to stay put. “Too cold out there, even for you.”
He pressed his shoulder against the door, turning the handle and trying to force it open, but the buildup of snow on the other side had it stuck fast. The wind howled as it blew through the gap, cold air flooding the corridor, and Zagza planted his massive hands above Schaffer as he leaned over him to help. With the Polar’s immense strength, he pushed the door open, baring his sharp teeth as he heaved against the weight of the snow to open a gap that Schaffer could slip through. Zagza slammed it closed behind him, and Schaffer found himself alone in the freezing tundra.
It was cold enough to penetrate his suit, pricking at his skin despite the heating coils that kept his body temperature in the safe zone, and his visor automatically darkened to lessen the glare of the snow. He couldn’t hear much now, the outside noises were muffled by his suit, and the blizzard hammered him with enough speed and force that it sounded almost like applause.
He struggled forward in the snowdrifts, deep enough to sink up to his knees, scanning the sky for the shuttle. Only a few feet away from the outpost, he was already beyond the comforting yellow glow that emanated from its windows, hopefully the flashlight beam would penetrate further than the interior lights did.
If he knew anything about dropship pilots, they’d be looking for a flat surface to set down on, and that might prove difficult with the dunes of snow that the winds were forming. He felt a fresh blast of air coming in from a different direction, warmer than it should be, and looked upwards as flecks of snow splashed his face plate. There, he could make out the blue flare of the shuttle’s thruster jets, but only just. There was no way his flashlight would penetrate that far.
It seemed to be circling, there was no way the pilot could see anything in this storm, and so they must be trying to locate a landing site with their scanners. He watched the ship sway as it hovered, moving off a short distance from the base before attempting to set down. He could make out its silhouette now, a large, dark blob with an angular hull and stunted wings. It lowered itself tentatively, then a strong gust of wind took it and the pilot had to fight to stay level. It looked as if it was about to spin out of control, but then the pilot made the decision to set it down regardless, and it dropped abruptly to land heavily on the side of a snowdrift. It slid down the side of the dune, its thrusters sputtering out, the engines winding down as Schaffer hurried towards the vessel.
When he arrived it was already beginning to disappear under the snow, the dropship was resting at an odd angle where the pilot had been forced to set it down, tilted on an incline at maybe thirty degrees. Schaffer climbed up onto the cockpit and smacked his gloved hand against the glass. The pilot within, a dark skinned woman with long, black hair jumped as he startled her. He waved, and gestured towards the rear of the craft, and she nodded her understanding. He clambered across the vessel’s hull then hopped off into the snow near the tail, waiting for the pilot to lower the landing ramp.
When there was enough of a gap for him to slip past, he stepped inside and hit the emergency close button, waiting for the ramp to seal behind him before removing his helmet. He took in a breath of stale, recycled air, the heating system in the shuttle working overtime as he felt the cold he had let in dissipate. He was surrounded by crates, no doubt containing food and supplies, anchored to the floor with straps where the crash couches would have been in a troop carrier. The whole thing was slanted, and he gripped one of the handholds in the roof to steady himself.
“Hey! You ok?” Schaffer shouted.
The pilot poked her head through the door that separated the troop bay from the cockpit, in the process of removing her flight headset, and looked him up down before replying.
“I think so, but I’m not sure about the shuttle, you see any obvious damage on your way over?”
“You’re parked on the side of a snowdrift, but beyond that I didn’t see any damage, no.”
“Had to set her down quickly, the winds are unpredictable, nearly lost control back there. I figured a controlled crash was better than an uncontrolled one.”
“My name’s Schaffer, I suppose you’re here to bring me my groceries?”
“That’s right, can’t believe how fast this storm rolled in, one minute I had clear skies and the next I was flying through the middle of a blizzard. I’m Riya by the way, guess I’m going to be grounded for a while.”
“At least until the storm blows over. This shuttle is gonna be buried under a foot of snow within an hour, we’re gonna have to wait until the blizzard runs its course, then we’ll dig you out.”
“We?” Riya asked. “I was told there was only one guy manning this base.”
“You didn’t think there was a little too much food here for one person?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” she said as she stepped into the troop bay, steadying herself against the hull. “I know this outpost isn’t on the books, didn’t think I should be asking too many questions.”
Schaffer struggled with how to explain his living situation to the pilot, while he was technically the only UNN employee on site, that didn’t account for the two dozen Borealans who lived in the base along with him. UNN personnel would be aware of their furless cousins who served extensively in the armed forces, but the Polar variety were a lot less common, and these ones were locals. He decided it would be a better idea to get her into the base and out of danger first.
“You have an environment suit with you?” Schaffer asked her.
“There are some emergency suits, do I need one?”
“Temperatures out there are thirty below zero, I don’t recommend making a run for the outpost without a suit. Trust me, I’ve done it before,” he added.
He waited while she retrieved the garment from a compartment in the cockpit, then pulled it on over her flight suit, zipping it up and securing her helmet. She activated the short range radio, and Schaffer tuned in, hearing her voice come through with a hiss of static.
“Ok,” he said, “take my hand and follow behind me. You can scarcely see a few feet in front of you out there and I don’t want to risk getting separated.”
Schaffer hit the door control, and there was a rush of frigid air as the wind flooded the bay, it was like stepping into a walk-in freezer. He led her out of the dropship and into the snow, giving her a moment to examine the tilted vessel as it lay on the drift, then after ensuring that the landing ramp had sealed properly they set off towards the base. She staggered, the planet’s high gravity increasing her body weight by about thirty percent once she was free of the shuttle’s artificial gravity field.
“Don’t worry,” he said to her over his helmet radio, “the base has an AG field set to Rarth norm.”
The footsteps that Schaffer had left in the snow had already vanished, but he knew which direction to go in based on which way the shuttle had been facing.
The wind was almost strong enough to blow them over, and they had to hunker down against the hail of snow that battered their suits, Schaffer’s heart skipping for a moment as they entered the white void between the shuttle and the outpost where neither were visible. He was relieved when the structure came into view through the blizzard in front of them, and they arrived at the main door, a fresh pile of snow now blocking it. He felt Riya’s fingers tighten around his hand, her suit radio fizzing to life.
“Is the door blocked?” Schaffer could barely hear her over the cacophony of sleet and hail hitting the roof of the base. “Can we get inside?”
He hammered his fist on the cold metal, and stepped back a little, seeing a glimpse of Zagza’s white fur through the window as the massive alien put his shoulder to it and forced it open. The two humans scurried inside, the Polar slamming the door closed behind them, and Riya removed her helmet with a hiss as she broke the suit’s seal. She wiped her brow and breathed a sigh of relief now that she was in standard gravity again, looking back at the door and the pile of snow that had followed them in, then she turned towards Zagza and yelped in surprise.
She saw a wall of white fur before her, the fairly short woman standing just below chest height in comparison to the nine foot alien, a golem of muscle and insulating fat contained within a wholly inadequate animal hide loincloth. He looked down at her quizzically with his piercing, blue eyes, from what to Riya was quite a height. She leapt backwards in alarm, Zagza scratching the beard-like fur on his chin with his curved, black claws as she pressed herself up against the door.
“B-Borealan!”
“Don’t be afraid, he’s friendly,” Schaffer said as he took the woman by the arm in an attempt to calm her. “This is my friend, Zagza. He’s one of the Borealans who lives in the base with me.”
“One of? How many are there?” Riya stammered.
“About two dozen.”
“Is this ... does the UNN know they’re here? Is this legal? I thought this base was classified?”
“They’re not UNN personnel, but they’re here with the consent of the Admiralty, I maintain the equipment and my pack lives with me. The brass kind of owed me a favor, it’s a long and complicated story that I’m not permitted to tell you.”
“Your ... pack?” She gave him a strange look, and he immediately regretted referring to them that way, it had been a while since he had talked to another human for longer than it took to unload the supply crates from a shuttle and he was out of practice. This might be a good opportunity to refresh his human social skills.
“It’s ok, they’re not dangerous. Besides, you know what they are, so you must have at least a passing familiarity with Borealans.”
“We have them on the station of course, yes, but as a pilot I don’t interact with them often. Besides, these ones are all furry.”
“They’re Polars, a sub-species of the Borealans you’re used to seeing. They’re actually quite a lot friendlier than their cousins.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said as she brushed herself off. “Sorry, you took me by surprise.” She directed the apology towards Zagza, but the alien just cocked his head at her.
“They don’t speak much English, they’re native to the region,” Schaffer clarified.
“What the hell is going on in this base,” she muttered to herself as she began to unzip her environment suit.
After stowing her suit, Schaffer gave her the tour of the base, starting at the kitchen where a few of the aliens were clustered around the dining table eating their breakfast. He wasn’t sure if her clearance level allowed it, she certainly couldn’t access the room that contained the monitoring equipment and transmitter controls, but he couldn’t leave her in her crashed shuttle and he couldn’t very well lock her up in the store room either. Before Schaffer had been able to provide the Polars with canned vegetables, most of their diet had consisted of meat from the wild game they hunted, and while it was still their primary source of nutrients they enjoyed supplementing it with human dishes. Today the meal was some undisclosed seared meat, along with some canned sausages from last month’s delivery that they seemed to have taken a liking too.
Osha was cooking, the giant female was the only other member of the pack that rivaled Zagza in size, and she greeted Schaffer with a wave and a warm smile. She noticed his companion, and lumbered over to get a better look at her. The base was built for humans and while the ceilings were high enough to be comfortable for Borealans, the taller ones still had to be wary of hitting their heads on hanging pipes or light fixtures. Osha’s wide hips bumped against the table as she leaned down to run her claws through Riya’s straight, black hair, examining the long strands with interest.
Riya seemed a little alarmed, the Polars had no concept of personal space or the boundaries that humans took for granted, and he eased the curious female away as she chatted to Zagza in their native tongue.
“She came on the ship,” Schaffer told her, gesturing to the air and miming the noise of a shuttle’s engines. She understood and nodded, a gesture the aliens had picked up from him, then she leaned over the table and hooked a dripping steak from some native animal in her curved claws. She offered it to Riya, who recoiled, wrinkling her nose.
“I’m a ... vegetarian.”
Ever matronly, Osha would not be satisfied unless she was sure that everyone was being fed, and so Schaffer accepted it instead. He took a large bite, it tasted good, they had discovered the barbecue sauce and had been putting it to good use lately.
He led her out of the kitchen as the other pack members craned their necks to get a look at her. The base was circular, with one corridor that ringed a large, central room built to house the computers and satellite equipment. The installation was designed to intercept communications traffic from the different territories of the planet, which functioned somewhat like countries would on Earth, then parse that information and relay anything sensitive to the UNN’s intelligence branch. It had originally been designed to house several crew members, with living quarters, dorms and even a common room that branched off from the main hallway. Over time, the extremely remote location and harsh environment had driven many of them stir crazy, and after a series of suicides and desertions the staff of the base had been steadily reduced until it was completely automated.
After discovering a black market being run right under his nose out of the UNN’s largest space station, Schaffer had been ‘reassigned’ by a corrupt Admiral, in effect banishing him to the base in the hopes that he would simply die of exposure or kill himself. He didn’t want to say that he had twisted the UNN’s arm, but after the whole situation had been resolved, they had agreed that having him man the base along with his new friends was the best solution for both him and the UNN. He was immune from reprisals by any remaining mobsters who might have escaped the net, and he wouldn’t be leaking any details of the scandal to the public.
Zagza still trailed behind them, his black claws clicking on the metal floor, the alien tall and wide enough to almost completely fill the hallway. He probably wanted to vet her, to make sure that she wasn’t a threat to his pack, he was a kind-hearted creature but protecting his family was still his primary responsibility. Schaffer showed her the common room, the location of the bathrooms, and the store room where their supplies of food and replacement parts were housed. There were aliens milling about all over the place, and while Schaffer was used to living in such close proximity with them, he understood how it might make Riya uncomfortable.
The common room was empty right now, the smell of Osha’s cooking had spread through the base and drawn most of the Polars away, and so they took a seat on one of the couches. The room was fairly large, there were low tables intended for tablet computers and drinks, vending machines that were now empty, and a few game machines intended to keep the staff of the base sane during their long deployments.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Schaffer asked. “We have most things, besides fresh fruit juice, anything like that will be dehydrated.”
“I’ll take a tea if you have any bags,” she replied, and Schaffer left to find some. Zagza lingered at the door for a moment longer, then followed behind Schaffer, leaving Riya some time to herself.