Chapter 11: Outpost
Joseph was awoken by a quiet but repeating beep, each pulse of the single tone seeming to echo in his ears. Untangling himself from the limbs of Mama and Violet, the latter protesting the disturbance before moving in to cuddle her mother, he stumbled to the terminal that had been emitting a soft yellow glow in time with the noise. Navigating the display, he brought up a message from his brother.
Outpost found.
Location four degrees east off north.
Abandoned five years ago.
Basic facilities and farm plot remain.
Est Capacity 22.
ETA Eleven to thirteen hours based on previous data.
Terminal maintenance before operational.
Good luck.
He groaned, expecting to have some more time to relax before having to get on the move again. Mama looked up from the bed, now having her child glued to her side. He read the message aloud for her, a nod being given in response as she proceeded to get up, much to Violet’s dismay. Joseph went to the bathroom to wash his face, the cold water shocking his senses awake. With a quick towelling off; he entered the main area. Violet had begrudgingly woken up as well, lacking the heat of either of her bed-mates, and had settled on talking with her mother as Mama grabbed some water for the both of them before they started their day. He discussed their plan of action as the other two took their turns communicating between themselves, Violet setting out slightly before the either of the adults.
With a direction and estimated travel time in mind, He asked Mama if she would mind replacing her old armour, the previous set being structurally compromised after their encounter with the wolves. She agreed rather happily, likely bored without much else to do, and set to felling and sculpting a large tree out near the front of their shelter. They would use the wood later in the evening for a fire to harden the piece as well as spend some time relaxing in front of it. Something about a nice campfire just can’t be ruined by torrential rains and almost drowning.
Violet was going to be tasked with collecting some rock-worms while he worked to get some minor systems aboard the pod back to an operative state, but when he went looking for her, he found her outside the shuttle swinging her blades wildly, her mother watching as she worked from some distance away. It was cute that he had inspired her to practice her combat, the Atmo having been still fairly restless since the ambush. She was focused enough that he startled her when he approached, her arms raise high to replicate her mother's signature move she had witnessed first-hand. Once she noticed it was only him, she settled down some, rubbing her blades together as she clicked in what could only be an apology.
Joseph held his palm up with a laugh. “It’s okay, Violet. I’m sorry I startled you. Are you trying out the exercise I did yesterday?”
The Atmo nodded, raising her arms in front of her and throwing them weakly forward in an imitation of a standard one-two, the blades pressed to her forearm as she used the joint as a bludgeon. It was very much a foreign movement for her, as her instinct told her to raise them again for the large piercing blow.
He held his palm out again, stopping her from committing to the movement. “Do you want me to show you some things? Might be able to make it work better for you.”
Violet considered it for a moment before nodding again, her legs alternating between sets of three as she bounced slightly in anticipation. Joseph laughed, taking his orthodox boxing stance. “This is a stance for a combat style and sport called ‘boxing’, It focuses on using only your fists in combat. There are other styles that use the joints and kicks, even ones specialized in grappling, but this one I think would translate well enough to your body that you could use a modified version.” He spoke as demonstrated a few punches. “The basics are heavily footwork oriented; moving your forward leg before you follow with your rear to advance and the opposite for retreating. This lets you move in and out of range without ever being unable to change your mind and getting caught in an awkward position.” He darted forward a few steps, stopping his final lunge by pushing back on his front foot and setting himself back up into his stance. He dropped the posture and turned to her.
“You have at least three feet on the ground at all times, so this shouldn’t be as big of an issue. Something worth practising, as it never hurts to be more reactive, but it’s further down the list of things to get you started. You can work on it if you want whenever you’re bored or when you otherwise might cut something that shouldn’t be cut.”
He stepped back to be on side of Violet, raising his arms up in front of him. “This is called your guard, you use it to block incoming attacks from blunt objects or limbs. Wouldn’t recommend using it for sharp objects or natural weapons like your blades, but I'm not sure how well you could hold up against it. Ideally, you hold it to protect your head and lower it to protect your sides and stomach.” He lowered his right arm so the elbow matched his waist.
“With your arms, you can more or less pull double duty, only really needing to shift it to block something thinner that’s going to hit you dead centre.” He poked Violet’s torso between her arms, the Atmo chittering laugh brought a smile to his face. “Your base is a different story, best to use your legs to avoid getting hit there.” He pointed to them, their large and wide stature tapering down to a point. They already formed a shield for the body behind it, so it shouldn’t be much of an issue.
He patted her folded blade, nodding to himself. “What you did here is actually what I would call a ‘full guard’, It has little offensive ability but good defensive coverage, great for taking heavy impacts. Loosen your blade out a bit.”
Violet let her blade relax out, it dangled slightly with her natural sway. He looked it over a bit, nodding to himself. “Yep, looks like you’ll be using this by default. It lets you flick out the sharp point of your blade, like my jab, and it will be a nice easy resting position for you to pull it back into without giving up much of your guard.” He ran his finger along the few inches of exposed edge on the back of her blade, then fired off two quick jabs in succession, each thrust resetting to his own guard. “It won’t be your most powerful attack, but it will likely be your most often used.”
He took a step back out of range. “Go ahead and try a few jabs. It’s a swift punch, or in your case, flick of the lead hand or blade.” He threw out another few jabs, jutting air out as he did to regulate his breathing. “For you, it would be closer to this motion.” He brought is arm up, bending his wrist down and flattening his palm, flicking his hand out and returning it back to the crooked position.
Violet fumbled with the flick, overextending her arm out to follow the blade. He chuckled to himself, walking up alongside her and helping her reset her stance. He grabbed her arm, guiding her blade outwards while holding the rest in place. “This would be your jab. It’s a little more vertical than my own, but it serves the same purpose; Keep a threat out while you work yourself some space or opportunities to do something more damaging. Also used to gauge distance; if the jab will hit, so will most other things. All else fails, this will still hurt them and you can exhaust them while not burning as much energy.”
She gave the motion a few flicks, much more in line with his demonstration, staring at the limb as if it were new. She practised it until the flick was barely a blur in front of him, each reset looking as if she had never done anything in the first place. He gave an impressed whistle. “Okay, that’s going to be dangerous as hell. Wouldn’t want to face you in a fight. Let's start working on your cross.”
He walked back to her, grabbing her right arm. “The next movement is part of a pretty simple combo called the ‘one-two’; It’s your jab, followed by your opposite blade piercing forward. This is called a cross.” He guided her blade forward with her arm, keeping it level the whole travel before backing up and doing his own. “Normally you use the momentum of your returning jab as well as twisting your waist and pushing off with your rear foot to add power. You don’t need to extend your arm for the jab and I don’t think you’d get much out of trying to shift your feet, but you can still do the waist movement. Make sure to keep blade level as you do it; this is to pierce, not cut.”
Violet readied her guard, flicking a jab out then throwing her right arm forward, swinging it as she tried to force her waist above her base into an unnatural movement, throwing her off balance. She huffed in frustration, trying the motion a few more times before throwing a small tantrum. Mama laughed from her spot, stopping her sculpting to watch.
Joseph walked up to her, crouching so he was eye level, speaking in a soft voice. “It’s okay. It’s new, weird, and it’s going to take some practice. You don’t have to master everything right now. It’s just a bit of fun for us, right?” He stood up to rub her head until she purred. He chuckled to himself again, putting some enthusiasm into his voice. “So, would you like to try again?”
Violet nodded, raising her arms again. He placed his hands on her blade and waist, guiding the movement. “See? You don’t need to throw yourself into it, you roll your shoulder back just enough to get the extra reach. Keep your lead shoulder in line as you throw it. Try it.”
She did as she was told, slowly tracing the movement he showed her until she felt confident enough to try it at full speed. It wasn’t as blindingly fast as her flicker jab, but it would certainly be a reaction test if it was ever used in a fight. It greatly out-ranged her jab, having the rest of her arm behind it. He suggested leaning her other arm at various lengths to get a feel for how close and how far she could flick her blade out. She complied, testing while it was pressed close to her until it was almost fully extended. The speed diminished as it started further from her body, but even at maximum range it was respectable. Pleased with her own progress, she alternated jabs and cross with either arm, favouring her left for the jab. He cheered for her as she attempted the combo, barely a pause between the thrusts and both flying true. Mama let her own cheer from her spot as a spectator, a chittering giggle as she watched.
He was about to explain how to properly adjust the height of a punch when he felt a soft electricity run down his spine. The hair on his neck stood up, a cold working its way over his limbs. His subconscious did a full sensory check in the background as it pieced tiny bits of information of the environment together. Something was missing. Noise. The soft squeaks and brushes of movement that he could always hear in the distance from the wildlife had stopped somewhere. The prey animals only stopped completely when there was a potential threat nearby so as to blend in better.
There.
He snapped his head off to his left, eyes focused sharply as they scoured the brush and trees towards the silence, soaking in any detail they could as trace endorphins ran through his system. His muscles all prepared themselves to either approach a threat or hurry his new family to the pod.
He waited.
The sounds of critters resumed, slowly at first but eventually reclaiming their background position as ambient noise. Violet patted his arm, grabbing his attention as his systems wound down, a breath he had held, bleeding it out of his nose as muscles relaxed. He glanced back at the trees before talking. “We’re good, I think. Felt like we were being watched. That should be enough for now, don’t want you to be overwhelmed.”
He patted Violet on the back and walked towards her mother. “You go give Mama a hand getting some new gear ready, I'll get a fire going and we can cook some rock-worms, sound good?”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Violet bounced a bit, purring and nodding her head before scurrying off to join her mother. He called out to the both of them from the entrance of the pod. “We’ll head out first thing tomorrow. think you’ll have everything ready and tempered by then?”
Mama nodded, already about half way through roughing out the shape. Violet took up some wood and began cutting away at it after some thought. He returned the nod and started their meal preparations.
------------------------------
The morning came easily, Violet had the idea to cut out sheaths for her blades so as to practice her modified boxing without worries of accidentally stabbing something. The idea alone had impressed Joseph, to actually think of it and have a working prototype ready so soon was astonishing to him. The sheath flew off at first, not being secured to her blade by anything other than friction. The issue was remedied by having Mama cut out two holes in it for him to feed some rope through, securing it to the lip at the top of her blade. She could remove it herself with some patience, but the need for an improved system was apparent. She didn’t mind, she practised the two movements she learned yesterday as her guardians donned their gear and made sure they had everything for the trip, taking a few items from the pod that would make their lives easier.
They packed a water jug, freshly filled from the recycler, and some dehydrated jerky that had been put in a box designed to act as a traditional convection oven at low heat overnight. Joseph packed some of the less-than-lethal medical items he had stored in his closet, mostly pain killers and an antibacterial medication. The purple powder they used as a pain killer before was transferred to a pill container, filling about half of it.
Satisfied that they had everything they needed, Joseph locked the door behind them, manipulating the heavy mechanical parts to engage the mechanism. The sun had risen a while ago, but still far from noon. They left the pod, heading north towards where Robert’s contact claimed there to be an outpost.
He learned that the Atmo could whistle, though shrill and atonal. Violet was keeping herself occupied by attempting to copy the one he had let out the day before. Amused, he started his own whistling, mimicking songs he could remember and even the odd bird call. Mama joined in on the fun, starting out with a much closer approximation of his warbling.
A flutter of wings was heard in the trees as an avian creature landed on a branch nearby, seemingly curious at the noises. Joseph stopped in his tracks, shocked that a type of creature he had though absent from this planet had decided to inspect them. It looked like a scarlet raven, the red shifting to black and a dark yellow as it hopped on its branch and tilted its head to get a better look at them, the sun highlighting it in the bloody tint and shadows obscuring it.
It stared at him, calling at him in a wobbled tone. He hesitated before copying the noise as best he could. Not perfectly, but close. The bird tilted its head, observing the biped before it. It picked at its feathers before taking off, deftly melding back into the leaves near silently, leaving the group mystified. Violet broke the silence by redoubling her efforts in learning to whistle.
=============================
Sahari stood back up, having spent the last hour pushing oils from moss and mixing them with ash to make a weak glue for their leaf-based packaging. It was tested and water tight, though couldn’t support very much weight. It would serve to transport their possessions, if nothing else. She felt stiff; the rationing of food and water having taking its toll on her. She often ‘forgot’ meal times so the others would get even slightly more. They may have only been her pack because she got them away from danger, but they were her pack. It would stain her honour should they fall due to her poor leadership.
“Grand Huntress!” The voice cried out from the entrance, the jolt of surprise that ran through her ached her tired and abused body.
Sahari glanced over her shoulder to look at Tel who had burst into the clearing, drawing the attention of the others that had been collecting what little they had for the move. The Huntress stopped and turned to face her, adopting her authoritative tone. “Speak.”
Tel ignored further formalities, panting from having rushed back from her observation. “The pack has left the shuttle. They look to be geared up for more than a casual walk.”
Sahari’s eyes narrowed, glaring at the recon scout. “Which direction?”
“North.” Tel gasped, taking one last breath to catch herself back up from the sprint. “They left north. I ran back as soon as I confirmed.”
"Expected to return?"
Tel shook her head. "Hard to say, they locked the shuttle when they left so I'd say they plan to, but can't be sure."
Nalah eyed her doubtfully. "They locked it?"
Tell shifted to one foot, stretching the other as she looked at what Nalah was doing. "Checked personally. I'm not sure how it works, but it isn't opening."
Harrow looked up from the leaves she had been preparing, water threatening to spill over the ledge before it had been sealed. “North and supplies for a long hike.” She glanced at Nalah. “Sound familiar?”
Nalah closed her eyes, sighing as she finished wrapping six pieces of cooked meat that was to be distributed later in the day in a leaf. “How fast, Tel?”
“Not very, the insects seem to struggle with wildly varying terrain.” She responded, staring at the meat until it was packaged.
Sahari’s ear flickered as she moved to rest against a tree. “Then we move out as soon as we can, keep an even pace. Does anyone think they can maintain a jog that long?”
Jax stood up from the log he had been sitting on, resting the makeshift wooden spear he had been sharpening on it. “If we rest in even intervals, we should be able to manage. Those who fall behind we can leave.”
The Huntress hissed at him. “No. We go as fast as our weakest can manage. We need every able body right now and I will not be having them abandoned again. Do I make myself clear?”
Jax broke eye contact, mumbling towards the ground to hide his irritation. “Yes, Grand Huntress.”
Nalah, ignoring the squabbling, glanced at the last member, the white Lilhun had been quietly covering evidence of their stay while holding a black metal case. “Pan, you good to hit that?”
Pan hesitated for a moment before nodding, wordlessly covering their fire pit with fine dirt and detritus.
“Good.” The Huntress started tying the bundles the others prepared together in evenly portioned packages. A lingering glare at Jax shifted into a sweeping glance at the rest. “I want us loaded up and gone in sixty.” She pointed at the recon specialist. “Tel, you help Jax make everyone a sling to hold their gear. We’re all pulling our weight here.”
The grey Lilhun nodded, grabbing leaves and some twine. “Yes, Grand Huntress.”
==============================
They were making good time, the Atmo seem to have adjusted to the longer journey, only requiring a stop after about three hours compared to their previous two. The woodlands have evened out a fair bit as well, letting them pick up their pace slightly as the insects were able to find surer footing among the roots. Overall, Joseph thought they might be able to cut the expected twelve-hour trip down to just ten. Having taken their third rest almost an hour ago, he was hopeful that would arrive soon.
They trudged through the bushes, Mama handing out jerky to the others as they had been too busy listening to Joseph’s stories to remember to eat. They munched on the meat while Violet returned to her whistling practice, having taken a break after their first rest. She had made great progress, starting with a sharp single note and could now manage about half an octave in range, though each note was out of tune slightly. Mama had since managed almost two octaves, though did not show as much interest in the hobby as her daughter, opting to instead click and purr encouragement at her progeny’s newly discovered drive for mastery of her body.
Joseph clapped at Violet’s tiny and detuned arpeggio. “You know, after you get it down a bit more, I'll teach you how to do percussion with just your body, those blades would make a nice variety of sounds. You guys could start your own band.” Mama chuffed a laugh, clacking her blades in mimicry of him.
They chittered and laughed as they passed the time experimenting with what sounds they could make; it seems music is something that the insects have taken to quite a bit and he was excited to share it. Maybe he could make simple instruments for them? A simple banjo or guitar analogue might be possible with Mama’s skill. He mused his options, noting the increasing scarcity of trees and the blooming color pallet of the woods, glimmering gold and shimmering silver were accompanied by warm oranges and vibrant reds, as if the spirit of autumn had blessed the area.
The wind pushed his grown hair from his eyes as they entered a large meadow, the opposite end lay in the distance, each tree previously towering him seeming no larger than him at this range. The terrain lay mostly flat, the borders circular, far too consistent to be natural. The grass mirrored the hues present in the surrounding forest, patches blending together to create a cacophony of colour. A large building imposed on the scenery near the centre, even if it was only a single floor. It stretched wide and far, brown wood layered onto steel foundation, the aesthetic alien and disruptive. Windows dot its walls, each a wide portal into its interior, their shapes angular yet not square.
As they approached, walking around its circumference, they grasped its general layout. A large circular section in the centre, its roof dwarfing the others, perforated with sky lights and broad rectangular sections perpendicular to each other using the centre as its pivot. The square gap of land behind the right-angled arrangement was home to a simple barren garden and a farm, the latter having not been touched in some time but still distinct. Entryways were located on each section of the outpost, the two rectangular sections holding one each to the garden and farm respectively, a short wooden fence boarding the perimeter of the purposed area, while the centre circle hub held a large set of doors that faced out from the building at a forty-five-degree angle.
Violet leapt ahead, despite her chaperone's instructions, and peered through the double doors of the hub, bouncing from side to side in excitement as she waited for the others to catch up. At Joseph’s request, Mama punctured the bio-lock, disengaging the electronic lock and forcing the system to fall back on a mechanical one which had not been set in place, allowing them access. The hub felt like a mix between a reception office and photos of old airports mixed with an open concept restaurant, a desk of massive proportions lay centred against the back, possibly to accommodate several terminals that have since been removed. Tables and simple stools remain scattered here and there, suggesting this was used as a communal area for dining and recreation. Two doorways, each with accompanying bio-locks, lead to the separate wings of the building. A glance through the reinforced windows in the doors implied the left door was personal quarters for the staff and the right one was various facilities used in operations they pursued. He locked the main entrance as the others wandered around the space.
Mama punctured the two locks, much the same as the main doorway, these had mechanical locks which had not been engaged in favour of their alternative. Joseph looked between the two doorways and suggested they inspect the dorms, as they would likely be their living areas while inhabiting it. The quarters consisted of a long and straight hallway with large rooms lined across its sides, each as large as his old apartment, numbering eleven in total, with one larger room in the rear. The rooms lay barren, any personal effects or furniture removed, simple deadbolts offered privacy on the steel doors. Each room was divided into its main area and a small personal restroom with no bathing facilities.
They checked each room out, all in the same desolate condition; sound, but abandoned. The last room in the hallway sported larger doors with no locks, approximately twice the size of its counterparts. A quick look inside revealed it to be a communal bathing area, three large baths populated the left, followed by a large overhead shower covering most of the middle of the room, and finally a single wide dust bath pit extending the entire width of the right wall. A test of the shower proved that the plumbing was still operational and the recycler satisfactory. A terminal laid to rest against the back wall for temperature control, several dispensers of various bathing cleansers lay full there as well. Shell and scale polisher, fur shampoos, and what can only be described as lava were amongst the menagerie and mundane.
Satisfied that the rooms were adequate for their occupation, they decided to survey the facilities. Of the five rooms, only one was locked using an additional bio-lock, which they disabled to view later. Unfortunately, most of the other rooms were empty, devoid of their original purpose as equipment that had given them meaning was removed. This didn’t deter them however, as the rooms could be newly repurposed to serve whatever function its new occupants deemed appropriate. The second room on the right housed the resident kitchen, majority of the equipment remained intact and had been modified to serve as a traditional food preparation area. A cooler/freezer combo unit, much like the one on the pod, loomed in the corner with size to support food storage for the expected number of staff. Stoves and heating pads adorned counter-tops and islands, giving the area a displayed kitchen look he remembered seeing on competitive cooking shows. A quick check ensured all facilities were still functional, if a bit dusty.
The final room was rather small in comparison, a single desk lay in front of a terminal, a large metal box with a single forward hatch rested on it. He could possibly fit a full-sized pillow in there with some room to spare on the sides, possibly two or so bottles if stacked vertically. The terminal remained dormant, displaying ‘Routine Maintenance Required’ on its screen while it denied input. Something he would have to look at tomorrow.
Joseph requested the two Atmo to unpack in a room of their choosing, himself going to inspect the small farmland and outdoor recreational space. The farmland laid unkempt and rough, various weeds and inedible plants having since taken root in the soil. Small pipes lay near the edges of the plot, holes angled in towards the farm, likely as an automated watering system for the rare instance of clear weather. The garden seemed to serve as a mix of recreation and dining area, a simple steel table and bench lay next to what may have been flower beds at some point. A small closet was placed next to the doorway, home to some farming equipment; A spade, hoe, shovel, trowel, and rake. A diagram outlined where specific crops should be planted and in what rotation, but in a language he couldn’t read. Issues to be sorted at a later date. Several containers rested on a shelf at the back, each holding a handful of seeds. Unwilling to commit to cleaning up the area at the moment, he placed them back and went to rejoin the others.
Mama had chosen the last bedroom on the right, the room before the bath. Her luggage that she had brought upon her back was unpacked and the gear neatly set aside in the corner. Violet had chosen the last room on the left, opposite the bath, and had haphazardly laid her things in the centre. Her saddle bag had spilled the contents slightly on the floor, sheaths poking out against her armour. Joseph chose the room next to Violet’s, partially to be near his new family and the rest because he wanted to be able to stumble into the shower first thing in the morning without needing to wake up fully beforehand.
He heard some splashing from the bath as he laid his things down, carefully untying his ornate chest piece. Looking in, the two Atmo had decided that a long day of walking deserved a long hot bath, Mama resting her chin on her blades as she lightly floated in the deeper tub as Violet splashed around in a shallower one. He chuckled to himself, quietly closing the door before he retrieved the meats and proceeded to the kitchen to prepare them a meal and store the excess as the others settled in.
A soft jiggling could be heard from the hub area, barely distinguishable from the sizzle of food being prepared. He set the heat lower and walked out to inspect the noise, his gaze drawn to the door. The window above the door had begun to shake with the new direction of the wind. He dragged a table to the door, standing on it to find the cause. The window was still locked from the inside, but the lock had been engaged while it was improperly sealed. He unlocked it, pulling it closed tightly before locking it properly again. The wind outside picked up slightly, but the window remained silent. Nodding to himself, he returned the table to its spot against the wall and returned to the kitchen.
“I think we’ll move in.” He whispered to himself, closing the facilities door behind him.