Dead Star Dockyards

KRRRRRRSSSSHHHKKK

"Keep pulling!" Donovan recovered from his leap to the side of the structure with a less than elegant roll. He sprinted towards the pulling line in a desperate attempt to beat the tower's backswing, one he wouldn't make. "Keep pulling! Quickly! Get the slack out of the line!"

Fortunately the block at the base of the pulley arm was equipped with a braking mechanism for just this reason, but the team pulling at the time it snapped taut were grimacing from the pain. Recognizing this, Donovan engaged the mechanical stop on the pulley, teeth on a separate block pushing into the cable and restricting its movement.

"Alright, you can let go of the line." The tower didn't look like it was sliding further into the dirt, so they should be safe. "Is anyone injured? Bleeding?"

He was answered by nothing but winces and jazz hands.

"That seemed a little dumb!" Diana yelled at him from a 'safe' distance, well beyond the reach of the tower or pulley. "Were you planning for that to happen?"

"I was hoping to have a little less backswing, but beggars can't be choosers!" Donovan would have to get back at her for that jab later . . . perhaps a bit of teasing was in order. "But seriously, no injuries?"

"Numb hands and a bit of swelling, but nothing major. Are we clear to keep pulling?" Seppard was already rolling his shoulders and flexing his hands, raring to finish setting everything in place so he could scamper back to his paperwork.

"Once everyone is ready, slap the button and get moving. Once its up, start filling up those holes."

"And where are you going?"

"I'm retrieving my varmint rifle."

". . . I pray you've brought something more potent than a pop gun."

Donovan saluted in an exasperated manner, mocking the concern in a manner fitting of the situation. He seriously wondered what Seppard imagined Donovan brought along with him given the 'investment' they had spent the better part of a morning setting up. Granted, he hadn't exposited much on the capabilities of his critter killer, but it was no excuse to assume Donovan had underestimated what was necessary.

"Hey, Diana, mind helping me with the ammo?"

"With the what?"

"The ammo. I can carry the gun on my back, but there are three boxes of ammo." He held his hands up in front of him. "Only two hands."

"Your poor lover has been lonely for a week, and the first thing you ask her to do is carry ammunition?" Diana raised an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed with the level of attention she was receiving.

". . . what was I supposed to do?" Donovan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I mean, I can't exactly ask you for a hug when I'm this filthy, and there is work that needs doing . . . can't we have a chat while we get it done?"

Diana stared at him for a moment or two, seriously wondering what he wasn't understanding, until she started thinking about what it was she actually wanted from him. She began to grow confused as well. At first she was expecting something like a hug, but he was covered in dirt and sweat, and she would start complaining about it once he did so. These were a fresh set of clothes, so any sort of physical contact would prick that sort of response, meaning kissing was out too. For an instant she pondered whether or not she wanted him to comment on her appearance, but given this was a similar set of clothing to what she normally wore . . . well, he probably hadn't noticed a substantive difference (not that there was one to notice).

"Fine."

- - - - -

"Donny."

"Yes?" Donovan hefted the case onto his back, metal shoulder hooks digging into his trapezii in a bearably uncomfortable manner.

"What, and I apologize for the language, the fuck, is that?"

"It's, uh, pest control?" He thought the identity of the case was obvious given her request and the words 'Anti-Materiel Megafauna Rifle' emblazoned on the side.

"I get that, but why is it so big?!"

"Big?" Donovan considered the size of the case for a second, not finding it particularly strange. "I mean, maybe it's a bit bigger than a normal anti-materiel rifle, but that's only because we didn't have access to more suitable materials. It's also got some extra doodads on it to reduce shock, and there are a few extra barrels for when the first one fucks the rifling, but it isn't that much bigger."

Diana's stupefied stare told him she didn't buy it.

"I mean, okay, it's about 200 pounds fully assembled, but that's because we only had steel to work with and didn't machine out much in the way of null space." Donovan still wasn't getting a response out of her. "Look, it's firing a twenty millimeter bullet weighing 100 grams at four and a half times the speed of sound. It needs the weight or else my clavicle is turning into dust the first time I pull that trigger."

"Are you trying to kill a house?"

"House sized problems require solutions of an equally appropriate size."

"And your first thought wasn't, oh I don't know, a slightly bigger gun?"

"I was not supplied with an approximate size of target, or the range I would be engaging them at, or if the target is armored, so I thought twenty millimeters of metal moving at Mach 'fuck it' would do the trick." If Diana's expression was anything to go by, he wasn't getting anywhere with his explanation. "I also sort of wanted to shoot something like this. Semi-automatic flechette rifles aren't exactly satisfying in the results realm."

Diana remained silent for some time, mouthing the beginning of words and making signals with her hands as she tried to form a coherent thought on the subject. Eventually she just sighed, shoulders sagging with mouth still slightly agape, befuddled at Donovan's blasé disposition towards the matter of weaponry that was better suited to the turret of an armored vehicle.

"Let's . . . let's go. I don't want to think about it." Diana strained to lift the box off the table, barely managing with both hands. "Isn't this going to be loud?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I sort of wanted you to kill those things so that I can sleep."

"And once one or two get mulched, the rest should fuck right off."

". . . but then you won't be with me."

"Pardon?"

"If you have to be out there shooting 'pests', you won't be sleeping with me." She started to pout. "You've been away for a week, and now you'll be sleeping in that tower waiting to shoot a monster instead of comforting me."

Donovan felt like his brain was beginning to short circuit. Was she seriously complaining about him solving a problem she asked him to resolve? Was there a more obvious way to take care of it than a big gun? Obviously she wanted him to be with her during the night - he wanted to as well - but the need to ameliorate the source of her discomfort meant he had to be somewhere else.

"I'll, uh, lay down with you until you fall asleep, then go out and man the tower. How does that sound?" Diana pouted, eyes shifting side to side while she contemplated the offer. "I promise to be there when you wake up as well?"

". . . fine, but you need to train someone to take your place out there!"

"As you wish, madame." Donovan was going to need a smaller weapon in that case. Effective as it might be, the Nekh would be physically incapable of handling it. Weight aside, there was a good chance they'd obliterate their shoulder. "You can put it down there."

"When can I expect to see you?"

"Um, sunset? Do we have a clock synced to this planet's rotation yet?"

". . . no?"

"Yes you do." The tablet in Diana's satchel spoke. "Check your watches. It isn't a perfect 24 hour cycle, but it's close enough to make differences negligible. They were designed with such developments in mind."

"Oh, thanks Arc. I guess I'll see you at, uh, six? When is dinner?"

"I'll just send someone out to get you." Diana did not like exercising her authority for such petty matters. "Just remember to make yourself presentable, okay? Seppard was planning a more formal dinner tonight as a celebration of sorts, not that I expect it to be much different than the norm."

- - - - -

"No, no Mercedes. Lay down, down." Donovan whispered gentle commands to the dog as he slithered out of bed, careful not to disturb Diana's sleep. As promised, he stayed with her until she fell asleep, and a little bit beyond that for good measure. "Good girl, gooood girl."

Mercedes, exhausted, assented to his instruction, rolling over slightly to accept some belly rubs before he slunk away from the bed. He would dress himself in the hallway to avoid a ruckus, navigating towards the stairs by memory. Well, not entirely by memory, he was trying to make the use of that 'Split' vision a habit - nocturnal navigation being a good setting to start.

thump

The pain of a stubbed toe gave proof he wasn't too good at it yet, but he 'found' the edge of the stairs without much issue. Going down those stairs was easy enough for memory alone, though he needed to turn on a light to get his boots on. It was too difficult to gauge the position of his laces.

"Donovan?" A familiar voice from beyond the front door, likely alerted by his light if not the creaking of the stairs, called out to him. "Is it time?"

"Hm?" Donovan wasn't surprised by it though, he had 'seen' her before he even left his room. "Yeah, just give me a moment to get my boots on."

"Okay. I've brought Leno along, is it alright if he comes with us?"

"So long as he's comfortable standing or laying down on a steel floor. There are only two hammocks in the tower."

"That is fine by me, sir."

"Good." Donovan stood up, moved his arms and legs around to verify his outfit was secured properly, then opened the door. "Did you bring some cotton balls or cloths for your ears?"

"I have." Titanyana held up two rolls of a gauze-like fabric, Leno doing the same. "It will be similar to that 'demonstration' at the Sanctum, yes?"

"Good. Sorry for subjecting you to it, but I don't have proper ear protection for, you know?"

"We understand, sir." Leno nodded, pocketing the rolls before handing an overcoat of some variety over to him. "Here. Kuppr said rain was coming, he hasn't been wrong yet."

"Rain?" Donovan frowned. He hadn't dealt with rain in . . . a lot longer than he wanted to admit. At minimum it was a year, but he hadn't been given much 'shore leave' between his pilot training and assignment to the Noah, and he wasn't sure if rain was part of said leave. "That might complicate things."

"Will it?"

"Not by much, it'll just mean I need to dry off the gun after firing." Donovan didn't want to mention the havoc it could play with the IRST's detection capabilities, but it shouldn't have much trouble if the subject was as large as reported. It was low quality for Donovan's standards, material limitations and all that, but those standards were also catered towards precise tracking of minute differences across great distances and areas. For a range of two kilometers limited to a cone beneath the tower, it was probably overkill. "I want the two of you to be careful, going up, okay? Three points of contact at all times going up the ladder."

- - - - -

Her first steps into the open were met with the all too familiar sensation of rain, usually an annoyance which made it harder to track prey, but a blessing tonight. The plains outside the forest were relatively flat, enough to make seeing across great distances trivial, which made them the perfect hunting ground - a trait lacking in bias. Her prey might be easier to find, but so was she - as long as there was enough light to make her visible.

This element of visibility usually meant expeditions out into the plains were best reserved for clear moonless nights, where the background light of the stars would be enough for her eyes to recognize the silhouettes of her prey on distant slopes. The light of the moon would reveal her position, and without the stars she would have difficulty locating prey to begin with, however a recent develop had changed this dynamic somewhat.

Newcomers, some strange creatures that established themselves in the middle of those dangerous plains - likely kept safe by the virtue of their small stature. Stalking one or two of them would not be worth the meal they provide, not to mention their as yet unknown ability to fight back. That being said, approaching them was a threat in and of itself, for no other reason that they brought 'light' with them.

She knew not if they took advantage of this ability of theirs intentionally, but she did not care. Light would give away her position, which would in turn get her killed, and there was no doubt those predators above her on the food chain were aware of this. Still, this light of theirs was . . . enticing. Sure, it would be dangerous to get close enough to be illuminated, but it was a source of light she could use to silhouette her prey, not to mention one her prey seemed to consider 'safe'.

They would keep a safe distance of course, no use in alerting the newcomers to their presence, but they would be close enough to make that light useful. Speaking of, she could see them already, blocking out lights here and there along the perimeter of the newcomers' territory, so she stalked closer . . .

. . . and closer . . .

. . . and closer.

She couldn't be too quick. Despite the rain and lack of light, alerting one prey would alert the rest, which would in turn alert her predators. One small kill could feed her for weeks. One large kill could feed her for a month, but she wasn't yet big enough to drag one of those into the forest fast enough to avoid being detected. She would go for a medium sized target, something to promote her growth in the short term while sustaining her in the long term. Her mating season would start soon, and she would need that strength to fend off unworthy males.

There, she had found one of a suitable size against the backdrop of yet another structure. This one was taller than the others, which made it more useful for determining the height of her targets, however she thought little of it. Despite its size, it was devoid of life, meaning it could not attack her. She would still exercise caution on her approach though, the light it let off was different somehow, a little sharper, and more consistent in its output . . . and it looked like some of those newcomers were moving around next to it. Fınd the newest release on novèlfire.net

No matter, they moved around a lot, constantly patrolling the border of their territory against threats they could not see. Admirable in a way, their collective efforts being worth little without the strength to enforce it, however alerting them to her presence before she could strike might ruin her hunt. Smaller creatures had a tendency to scream and shout when they saw her, which would alert other prey.

She stopped a shorter distance from her target than she normally might, the rain masking her approach, and dropped her body down. Slowly, silently, she crept towards the apparently oblivious prey. They were quite attentive to their surroundings despite their blundering nature, capable of identifying sounds and shifts in the environment more readily than their disposition might imply, so she needed to exercise care. She stepped in time with the swaying of the grass, shifting her weight around with the wind so as to avoid it tangling and rubbing against her fur.

Three body lengths, her body lengths, was the distance she preferred to stop at. Perhaps a bit close for comfort, her prey possessed more than enough options to fend her off if detected, however a pounce from this distance was unavoidable. Now she would wait for it to move. She needed to strike the head or neck, and their rotund profile made differentiating front from back difficult in the dark. They only moved forwards though, so a little bit of movement was all she needed to make her own move.

She wasn't waiting for long. The grass of this prairie was a much better source of food than the undergrowth of the forest, and her prey gorged themselves on it night after night. The winter had been long this year, and they were still recovering from their hibernation. It raised its head, looking side to side as it scanned the area for threats or maybe just a better meal. It hadn't seen her, dropping its head as it trundled towards greener pastures, and she wasted no time.

For just a moment she dropped her hindquarters down further before pouncing. For just a moment, the instant before she made her move, a twang of pain ripped through her. Focused on her target, she paid it no mind, the success of a hunt being more important than the injury caused by strain.

KPOW

Thunder, not altogether unusual for a rainy night, assaulted her ears the instant she snapped the neck of her prey. Her timing could not have been more fortunate, loud noises unsettling her prey and putting them on high alert. Now she just needed to drag her trophy back to the forest, there she could find a spot consume it in safety, but she was finding it a bit more difficult than she anticipated. Whatever she had injured was seriously hindering her ability to move, and it hurt, it really hurt.

kehp

She coughed, the taste of blood reaching her tongue. She must have nicked the jugular of her prey, its still beating heart pumping that blood directly down her throat, some of which entered her lungs. That was fine though, she just needed to get to the tree line.

But it was getting hard to breathe. Really, really hard to breath.

kehp kehp

And she was coughing more and more.

And she was starting to feel cold. It wasn't raining that hard yet, so why was she cold? The strength in her legs gradually started to wane, and she stumbled, again and again. Eventually she decided she just needed a short break. The night would be long, long enough for her to recover her strength, long enough to figure out what was going on.

She didn't know what happened. Why was she so weak? Why was she so cold? Her prey hadn't noticed her, had it? Surely not, right? But if it hadn't why was she . . . dying?

The panic started to set in. Damn her prey, it meant nothing if she did not live to eat it. She needed to get to the forest, to safety, but her legs, her legs just wouldn't stay underneath her. Time and time again, she got up, only to immediately fall. It did not take her long to give up. She was tired, so tired, and cold. She couldn't breathe either, but she didn't know why. Why was she so cold? Why? Why? Why?

KPOW

More thunder. The storm was probably going to get worse, but that mattered little to her now. Despite the pain and her waning senses, she could feel a second twang of pain rip through her. It was focused on her hindquarters instead of her chest this time, which meant nothing to her at this point. She didn't care. She couldn't care. Everything was going dark, darker than the night around her, and colder than the harshest winter. Within minutes, she wasn't thinking at all. She could only mull over her life and wonder why everything had turned out this way before it all faded into nothingness.