---Dinosaurs---
---Victor’s perspective---
The synthetic material of my uniform is waterproof and insulating, so most of me is still warm and dry, but my hands and face are freezing as I desperately fight to swim back upwards!
I break the surface of the water and take a gasping inhale.
I’m being carried along at a rate of knots by the current!
I look around and identify a ledge I’m able to swim to.
Having made it, I pull myself out of the water and roll onto my back, heaving for breath.
“Victor!… VICTOR!!!...” shouts Samus, carrying both her gun and mine, on top of the cliff on the opposite bank, running downstream to catch up to the place the current carried me.
Still out of breath, I raise my hand and give a reassuring wave of ‘not dead’!
When I’ve mostly recovered, I sit up and shout back “I’m… alright, Samus!… Nothing’s broken!… Did you see where… my holo went?”
“I did; into the river, I’m afraid! I don’t think you’re getting it back!”
“Alright… call Twila… and the others… let them know… we’re separated.” I say.
“You don’t want to try getting back up here? Or, what if I came down? We could give Twila our location and she could pick us up?”
“Nowhere for her… to land!… River’s too fast… and you’re wearin’… too much armour… you’d sink and… drown if you… went in and… I don’t… particularly… feel like testin’… my luck, again!… Let’s just meet back… at the rendezvous… on the plateau!”
“Alright, you want me to try and toss you your gun? I’m… not certain I can make it!” she says, judging the distance that she definitely can’t make!
I shake my head “Keep it… Take it back… with you, please… I’ve got my… falchion!… I’ll see you… where we agreed…”
“Alright…” she says, frowning “…but Victor…”
“Yeah, Samus?”
“If you die before you’ve apologised to Tuun, I’m gonna fucking KILL you!”
I laugh “Deal!”
---Brunhilda’s perspective---
Twila did a flyby and looked for suitable crossing points, on the river.
She basically found that there were none; the river pours out of the side of the tablemount that we’re headed back to, pretty much fully formed and, in the other direction, doesn’t become safely swimmable until it reaches a floodplain, days’ walk from here!
‘Swimmable’ in the sense that the current, itself, is unlikely to kill him but to say nothing of what horrific riverine predators might be lurking in the waterways on this planet!
Best course of action she recommended was for me to beeline it back to the rendezvous and for Cuddles to take the long way around, along the river. He's not going to make it back, before dark.
I’ve got his gun slung across my back and mine across my front.
I don’t envy Victor!
Only having a plasmafalchion for protection on a planet of dinosaurian fauna is rough!
He tells me he had that sword designed, specifically for him, based on the onscreen incarnation of orcrist from the (thoroughly mediocre) 21st Century Hobbit films. The only adjustments he had made were giving it a full guard (rather than the half it had in the films) and scaling it up for his above average stature. The result is an absolutely beautiful weapon!
I’d probably not have chosen the greatsword, for my bladed fighting style specialisation module, in retrospect! It’s really only any good for wide, open spaces… not too much use in a forest, surrounded by underbrush, or anywhere else cramped.
Not really a problem, though. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had to have a blade fight in anger!
Most of the time, firepower’s the way to go! Swords are really only for if your gun gets lost or broken or you’re fighting someone in fullplate!
Heat is durasteel’s only notable weakness… that and, I suppose, the fact that all of the bones and organs of its wearer still have inertia… making them no less vulnerable to a long drop and a sudden stop!
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
For a while, I think about all of the people, during the War, who were horrifically burned alive inside their armour, after the GU realised that plasmablades (which had been mostly thought of as tools, up to then) were very effective antideathworlder weapons!
After that I start wondering what evolutionary forces must have been at play to create a world of rainbow coloured forests populated by dinosaurs!
Then, blocking my path, I see something I could really do without seeing, right now!
30m out and 1m tall, with a body covered in dull-pink integument, two, clawed feet, a horizontally held torso balanced by a long, rigid tail and four, clawed hands, at the end of as many arms which (though lined with long, straight feathers) I can’t call wings, stands a raptorial predator.
I’d estimate its mass at around 50kg.
There is no mistaking that thing as a leaf eater! Nor what it’s doing as anything other than hunting me.
“Your stealth leaves a little to be desired, buddy(!) I can see you a MILE out! Why don’t you try your luck on something a little less dangerous(!)” I shout, unimpressed.
The animal doesn’t take the hint, still stalking toward me, seeming to think itself invisible.
“I’m really not in the MOOD!” I snarl, raising my gun to aim at the side of the treetrunk, slightly ahead of it.
You only need one round for a warning shot but I indulge myself with a short controlled burst of five, which strike the tree within less than a second of eachother, obliterating a palm size patch and creating an explosion of splinters.
The forest echoes with the thundering *BOOM*s of my gun and my little, unwanted admirer immediately wheels and bolts away in the opposite direction!
It, however, is not the only one who receives a shock in that moment!
All around me I hear the sound of medium sized predators, scrambling to get away from me!
I catch a few glimpses of dull-pink fur, through the underbrush!
The closest wasn’t even 10m away!
Fucking hell! If it weren’t for the distractor alerting me to their presence the rest would have got me with that ambush! No question!
I’m just lucky that their hunting technique of sending a decoy to occupy my attention didn’t work, on account of their fear of gun noises!
I need to pay more attention!
I hope Cuddles is having more luck than this!
---Victor’s perspective---
That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex.
That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex.
That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex. That’s a t. rex.
That is a tyrannosaurus… rex! A tyrant lizard king!
Sure it has too many arms and was supporting it’s weight with them, while it drank, in a way I don’t think a Terran t. rex would have been able too! Sure, I don’t think t. rex down would have been quite that intense purple colour but, in every way that matters, I just rounded a rock and found a motherfucking T. REX drinking from the river I’m walking along!
It didn’t seem to notice me until I faltered and stopped but, then, it stopped drinking and looked right at me before standing up and turning to face me.
We’re staring eachother down, now, and I’m furiously calculating what to do next.
I’ve read a lot of research that states t. rexes would’ve probably not been too difficult for a Human to outrun… but I’m not sure I want to stake my life on my ability to outrun this thing!
The research could be wrong or, even if it’s right and even though this thing looks almost identical to a t. rex, it might be completely different under the hood!
There are no hiding spots within dashing distance.
I could try jumping in the river but I think it would probably get me before I was carried away.
That leaves killing it… or scaring it off…
I opt to attempt the latter and only resort to the former if that fails.
Neither are going to be particularly easy…!
The t. rex takes a single step forward.
“THAT’S far enough! GET out of here!!!” I bark, lurching forward aggressively, slamming my right foot into the loose shale of the river bank, baring my teeth and speaking with a tone like I’m telling off a misbehaving child.
It freezes and begins visibly reassessing… I’d guess it’s not used to things my size acting this way. It expected me to run and the fact that I didn’t means it’s, now, trying to work out if I know something it doesn’t!
It seems to decide that I’m bluffing and continues its advance.
Fortunately, my next avenue for attempting to scare it off will place me well for the backup plan of putting it down.
I reach to my left hip and draw my falchion.
I raise it above my head and click the ignition.
In the space of less than 2 seconds the blade glows through red, orange and yellow before settling on white.
Lit plasmablades don’t hum. They don’t buzz. They don’t drone.
They ROAR!
The sound of matter that wants to use it’s energy to escape but is forced to stay put, the sound of atmosphere being constantly, violently convected upwards as it encounters the blade, the sound of the universe graunching under the strain of realising this thing that oughtn’t be real, is so loud that you need to shout to make yourself heard over it!
To hold an ignited plasmablade in your hand is to defy the cruel Mistress, Physics herself! It’s to spit in the face of the natural order of things!
Clearly, the animal can recognise the unnaturalness of the device I’ve just drawn, as it stops, dead in its tracks.
For the first time, I hear it vocalise. It gives great, trumpeting hoots, not the guttural growls that I expected.
I hold the blade in front of me and begin slowly walking forward, advancing on the t. rex.
It backs up, then turns to run into the forest.
As I watch it go, I say “Damn… shoulda just run! That thing ain’t goin’ more than joggin’ speed!… Ah, well… I know now!”
I extinguish my sword and watch as it’s brought back down to ambient temperature, the excess heat being drawn back into the fusion core.
I sheath it, back at my hip, and continue walking.
It’s convenient that I know the river leads right to where I want to go… less convenient that it’s an accessible water source and so, walking along it, I’m much more likely to have run-ins with animals!
Another few kilometres and I’m proven right.
I come to the top of a slope and am able to look down on a beach, with a dozen or so six legged, teal hadrosauroids, drinking from the river.
Definitely herbivores, though that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not dangerous, what with each one looking like it weighs around 3 tonnes!
I allow myself a moment to appreciate the scene, as I look down on the creatures who are, for the moment, tranquil.
I remember Maia, the woman who raised me, making a joke about one of the hadrosaurid species being ‘her dinosaur’, because of its name, and let out a chuckling smile.
I hate to burst the tranquil little bubble but… they are in my way!
I raise my hands and begin waving them above my head… making loud, high, trilling shrieks as I do.
The creatures all look up and it takes only a second for the first one to decide that they’re not chancing staying here, with that strange thing up on the hill, and run for the safety of the forest.
All but one of them follow.
The one that doesn’t is on the far end of the beach.
I scale the rocky slope and it just continues drinking.
I walk towards it, expecting to have to pull the plasmablade trick, again.
Just as I’m getting close, it turns and there’s a moment where I think it’s about to run off after its herd…
Then it keels over with a long, lowing wail... and I see 2m of wooden shaft, sticking out of a wound in its chest.