Rimton Stories - A Settlement Project Gone Awry

[Lecos]

This is the worst. All around Derek, the sound of alarm klaxons blared through the starship. He was stumbling through an open hatch. The feeling in his limbs had yet to return in full, and he had trouble processing what was happening. Emergency lighting had jumped into life, dipping the metallic corridors into a deep red. White floor lamps were guiding him to what he hoped would turn out safety.

Derek fell a third time in five meters. His legs protested when he tried to get up, and he groaned at them in response. Move, move, move! Waking up from the sleeping pods was supposed to be a long, controlled process that should have lasted hours. From the looks of it, the AI was forcing the pods open all at once, disengaging safety protocols and hurling its passengers out. Something must've gone horribly wrong.

He couldn't get up. Instead, he wretched whatever substance the pod had force-fed him over the past months on the floor.

"No time for this," a voice behind him said. A man, a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder, walked up the corridor, his steps quick and steady. "Get up, or get out of the way."

Derek, feeling exhausted just from moving his head, tried to comply. To no avail.

The man rushed past him, made sure to avoid the puddle of vomit, and vanished around the next corner.

"Hey- wait-" Derek started coughing. He just- he just left me.

A rumble went through the ship. The klaxons died in a last, stretched sound of warning. Need to get away. Need to- There was a screeching sound of metal being torn apart. The section the man had come from was breaking away from the rest of the ship. For a few moments, Derek could see the debris floating through space. He felt the tug of vacuum as the air was sucked out of the compartment.

An emergency hatch slammed down at the far side. The whole scene had lasted nothing more but a heartbeat. Derek started breathing again. He hadn't noticed stopping.

He ignored the aching pain that surged through his body with every muscle he moved and crawled forward, following the white lights on the floor. They were still blinking, urging him to a safe location.

Afterwards, Derek couldn't tell how much time he had needed to reach the escape pod. The sound of the dying starship accompanied him throughout his journey, and the occasional screams of passengers soon joined the mix. Secondary explosions shook the compartment more than once.

A couple of escape pods were already missing. Derek couldn't be bothered to check his destination and trusted the AI to ensure his survival. It got me this far, it'll look out for me a little while longer.

In the end, Derek couldn't remember initiating the launch sequence. The escape pod departed safely nevertheless.

***

"You!" Derek said. "You asshole didn't even lift as much as a finger to help me back there!"

He had suffered atmospheric entry, the surface impact, and had done everything else the escape pod's synthetic voice had told him. Stay calm, follow emergency breathing protocol, keep your arms in the straps at all times. After "landing", Derek had hesitated getting out. His body actually felt better, but the shock of impact was still rattling through his bones. Also, it was an unknown planet out there, an unknown rimworld. He had set out with a few hundred other people to settle exactly one of these planets, admittedly, but this wasn't a well-planned settling operation anymore, and this wasn't the planet they had chosen either. The other settlers would be scattered across the star system, already dead, or die within the coming week.

When the escape pod had finally managed to convince him to blow the hatch and get the hell out, it had been no small surprise to find two other pods directly nearby. The AI must've made sure we stay in groups. They had come down in a jungle of sorts, with thick undergrowth covering the floor and high and sturdy trees vying for some sunlight with each other. Animal screams echoed over the landscape, some monkeys, probably.

That one of the men strolling around was the same guy who had left him behind back on the ship, though, seemed ill-luck. None of his fellow settlers were anywhere to be seen.

"Every man for himself," he said, and Derek became conscious of the rifle the man still carried around.

The pod includes a pistol, I think. I hope.

"I'm Mushinto Takamu," the man said without offering his hand in greeting. "And from the looks of it, our faces are going to be the only ones you'll see in a while, so get used to it, kid."

He looked around. "Yeah, this does look- hey!" Derek flinched. "What are you calling me a kid for?"

"You are one," the other man joined in. "Not even sure what you were doing on a trip like this."

"I survived for sixteen years on a world that was so fucked up we couldn't breathe on the surface, you bet I know what survival looks like."

Mushinto settled down on a couple of stones while laughing. "Boy, I'm not going to share my life story with you but let me tell you, I've survived a lot. I've seen a lot of survivors. You don't look like one."

The other man nodded in agreement. "See his arms, man? Never lifted so much as a finger, I can tell you."

Derek grew more and more uncomfortable around the other two. It was true, of course, there hadn't been much physical labour in the mostly automated underground shelters, and both men looked like they could crack him in two like a twig. Still... "They chose me for a settlement project. I got some training in basic survival and everything else you need to know for this sort of stuff." He looked them up and down, one by one. "That's why I'm here. Call me Derek, or don't talk to me at all." His blood was pumping by now. I sure hope my face isn't as red as it feels.

In the back, the man was nodding again. "All right Kid Derek. I'm Viktor. Viktor Valentine."

That's a start, I gue-

"Viktor Valentine," Mushinto said while turning around, "Viktor Valentine of the ship Dung Mucker?"

Viktor started grinning. "The Dung Mucker 2000, please."

Mushinto slowly got to his feet and readied his rifle. "Viktor Valentine, captain of the Dung Mucker 2000 and second-in-command of the Flying Pussyfoot brigands?"

Derek was edging away from the scene, back to his pod. I should really get that gun.

"Mind where you're pointing that?" Viktor said.

"2ooo pieces of silver. That's the bounty on your head, in case you were interested."

"It went up again? It's nice to know that you're appreciated, isn't it?"

Derek was still moving backwards, but one of his feet got entangled in a high-growing fern. He landed soft on the plant, but the noise urged Mushinto to spin around and aim the rifle at him.

"Now, dear Mister Takamu," Viktor said. He had used the distraction to pull his own gun. "Lay down the rifle, slowly, and then we'll have a proper talk about this."

Mushinto was still facing Derek. "There is nothing to talk about here. You're scum, I hunt scum. I get paid for hunting scum. Simple story."

Viktor laughed. "Not quite as simple, is it? We're stranded here, on a planet unknown to the three of us, I take it. You won't be collecting any bounty any time soon, so working together should be top of the agenda."

Derek was looking up the rifle barrel. "He's right," he said, his voice shaking. "We need to work on a plan to get off this planet, and we need to do it right now."

Mushinto's eyes narrowed. "You two know each other?"

Derek shook his head.

Inch by inch, the man lowered his rifle. Behind him, Viktor did the same.

"Well then, Mister Trained-Settler," Viktor said, "you do this sort of thing. Care to share some of that wisdom?"

Derek swallowed hard. Two armed and violent men facing him wasn't doing his thinking processes any good. "This sort of thing?" he said, raising his voice. "We crash-landed! Settling a planet involves heavy machinery, lots of personnel and materials to get you started. What do we got? Two guys who'd rather bash their heads in and a kid!" Again, his blood was pumping, rushing through his ears. This wasn't the impression I wanted to make...

Both of the others just looked at him with impassive faces. "You finished?" Mushinto asked. "Because after you're done throwing that fit of yours, you might want to start coming up with something useful."

He's right. Dammit I hate it when guys like him are right. "Well, for starters, our location is shit."

"What's wrong with it?" Viktor asked.

Derek looked around. Already, he felt the heat pressing down on him. "Bad ground conditions, uncomfortable temperatures and humidity levels, diseases, possibly dangerous animals... you want me to continue?"

"We can't relocate," Viktor said. "In fact, we need to start putting down the groundwork for a place to stay. And that has to happen now rather than later."

"A place to stay?" Derek was still sitting in the fern. "Like a... a colony?"

"Exactly like a colony."

Derek snorted and wrestled with the plant to get up. "We need to find some sort of civilization and get off this planet."

"And how," Mushinto said, "do you reckon we'll do that? Because the only ways off a planet like this usually either involve chains and a slaver, or a shit ton of money."

I'm going to be stuck here? With these two of all people?

"Well said." Viktor was, once again, nodding. "So we'll have to make do."

Derek, still numbed by the realization, was struggling towards his pod. "I got some... I got some basic blueprints. Walls. Generators. That sort of stuff but... we'll need equipment. Construction materials."

Mushinto was staring into the jungle. "Plenty of wood around, the escape pods can be broken down into some metal, and they carry an emergency kit of basic tools and food. The on-board power sources won't run for much longer, so we might just as well scavenge the whole thing."

"Wood won't do, not in the- not in the long run."

"What about food?" Viktor said. He had produced one of the meal packages from his nearby pod and was weighing it around in his hands. "These won't last long."

"Might be able to extract something we can use for seeds out of them, but..."

"Good," Viktor said. "We'll do that then."

How can they just carry on like this? While he was rummaging through the small cargo compartment of his own escape pod, he heard Mushinto dishing out some tasks.

"-so you go around and scout out the area. Try to find us some water source for starters. Derek and I will stay here and try to build us a roof."

No one raised any objections, and the three of them went to work.

Derek called up some of the blueprints and displayed them on the escape pod's small but functioning interface. We'll have to keep this one alive a little while longer, until we got another way of accessing them. He had consulted with Mushinto for a few minutes on how to proceed, and then the two had fallen into a silent working routine.

They had been at it for an hour, cutting branches and smaller trees down to a more manageable size, when Mushinto spoke up. "This Viktor is a bad fellow," he said.

Derek didn't answer. He was focusing on getting the size of his plank right.

"I heard a bit about him, you know. If you're nasty enough, or dangerous enough, then word about you gets around in my line of work."

Still, Derek was working his piece of wood.

"This guy," he said and whistled through his teeth. "This guy has done it all. Pretty strong bond with the other brigands of his band as well. Evaded authorities for almost seven years now. No one knows where he came from or how he made it that big." The sound of Mushinto's saw stopped. "Don't trust him."

"Trust you, then?" Derek asked. "You left me to die up there, and one of the first things you did down here was point your gun at first Viktor, and then me." He was feeling more at ease now, despite the circumstances. Even though physical labour had been scarce in his life up to today, it always had a calming effect on him.

"Just don't be surprised if he stabs you in the back someday. In a situation like this, survival has to be your first priority. Whatever it takes."

Mushinto started sawing his log again, but Derek was still contemplating his words. Memories came up in his mind, of food shortages in the bunker complexes, and of the smell of cooked flesh. He licked his lips. Whatever it takes.

Derek Carter, sixteen years old and crash-landed on the rimworld Alderamin, went back to work.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Not sure how much interest there is for a story like this around here, but I guess writing up a first few chapters can't hurt. Trying to manoeuvre stuff I don't quite understand, like the ease with which our colonists get their resources for gameplay reasons and the like, but I don't think I'll spend too much time on that.

A7 colony with Phoebe/Challenge to get me accustomed to the changes and leave me some time between attacks to plan the narration a little bit. Have fun reading.

Edit: Link to Part 2 due to message character limit. http://ludeon.com/forums/index.php?topic=6555.msg65145#msg65145

[Pirx Danford]

Quite nicely written
at

and we need to do it right now."a

you got a dangling a, might want to fix that.

Maybe you might want to have Viktor reveal his gun after Mushinto got distracted and not before.
I wouldn't point a rifle elsewhere if I knew the one I am pointing it at is armed, would rather take a step back and just look at what caused the distraction, especially if I knew it is a kid I disregarded as pretty harmless before.

Its a good read anyhow, by all means do continue :-)

[Klitri]

Please continue, this story is great! I love the details, and the characters are already easy to like and enjoy.

[milon]

+1

Keep writing! 

[Lecos]

you got a dangling a, might want to fix that.

Done, thanks.

Maybe you might want to have Viktor reveal his gun after Mushinto got distracted and not before.
I wouldn't point a rifle elsewhere if I knew the one I am pointing it at is armed, would rather take a step back and just look at what caused the distraction, especially if I knew it is a kid I disregarded as pretty harmless before.

Fair point, yeah. Going to rearrange it tomorrow when I start going through chapter two.

Thanks everyone for commenting.

[putsam]

You seem to have good writing skill, if you continued it out a bit it would make a good short read sci-fi novel I would enjoy.

+1 to u

[litlbear]

keep going

[Kirid]

I really enjoyed it! My name is Derrick :p
Only thing that threw me off was that the crash location in the jungle wasn't described until after they were talking and arguing for awhile, so I was imagining them in the wasteland desert rimworld biome at first. Maybe describe it shortly after the pod crashes? But I'm not a writer so take my suggestion with a grain of salt.

[Lecos]

They had chained him to the cook stove. Viktor grabbed another handful of berries and somehow punched them into the mash of potatoes before him. It wasn't what he'd usually call a meal, but it was the best any of them could do. They had taken turns with cooking at first, but both Derek and Mushinto had turned out even more terrible at the job than he was. In a situation like this, the lesser evil prevailed.

As long as they don't bother me.

They had gotten quite a lot of work done in the past few weeks, Viktor decided. Everyone had their own rooms, his kitchen was a nice enough place, and their crops were looking promising. He hadn't seen the use of building an infirmary, though, but Derek had insisted they needed a separate space for emergencies.

The metallic door at the far side of the room slid open. "Berries," Mushinto simply said and stashed a basket full of them away. He left without another word.

The way it should be. Viktor didn't like people. He had never liked people, or rather, talking to people. He had learned how to do it, or at least he hoped he had. He just took no pleasure in it. Smiling was key. A mixture of well-timed smiles, laughs and nods gets you through pretty much every conversation. The thought made him grin.

"What are you so happy about?" Derek asked. He hadn't noticed the kid coming in.

"An old joke," he said. "You got some new project in mind already?"

"Sort of." Derek's hand was hovering above one of the few packaged meals they had left, until he decided for one of Viktor's creations in the end. "Mushinto scouted another steam geyser we could use."

"We already got one generator running, hell knows how we managed that, what do we need two for?"

The kid made a face while poking through his potatoes. "Redundancies," he said. "Having power is one of the key advantages an early settlement can have over nature. We don't want to lose that to some ill luck."

He sure got more confident around us after a couple of days. Comes with being the only one who actually has a clue what we need to do here, I guess.

When Derek had finally decided on a particular berry to start his meal off with, Viktor was already gone. Enough chatting for now. Got our stockpile of meals up anyway. The kid's plan seemed obvious enough. Redundancies for their little power grid would need metal, and for that they'd have to continue mining out the little hill they had found east of their shacks. Shit tons of work, moving all that stuff through the jungle. Viktor usually already started sweating and cursing by just rolling over in his bed. Hauling stuff around didn't improve the situation.

He was steering towards exactly that little quarry to check the support beams they had rammed into the rock the day before when he heard some bushes rustling behind him. Mushinto at it again? The man had stalked Viktor a couple of times ever since they had crashed, as if still contemplating whether to kill him or not. Like always, Viktor acted like he didn't notice. Gonna be a nasty surprise for him when he finally tries something.

Mushinto had good reasons for being suspicious, of course. Viktor was a known criminal and news about their little band had travelled across at least two star systems by now. Guess he won't see the benefit of having me around.

A twig cracked behind him. He isn't that careless. Who then...

Derek didn't seem like the type to tail him. The kid was content with distracting himself with work and had stayed out of any argument that had erupted between Mushinto and Viktor. Not that there had been many. They would need to talk to each other for that to happen first.

Viktor made a sharp turn to what he thought would be north, crouched down behind some rocks and waited. Not a minute later, a man stumbled through the undergrowth, clad in nothing but some furs and carrying a simple spear.

What the hell... The three of them had agreed early on that they probably wouldn’t be the only humans on the surface. Inhabitable planets weren't exactly the most common of celestial object, so most of them had been settled by someone at some point in time. Remains of the civilizations that had come before them might still be lingering around. Raiders might be using the planet as a base or an outpost. We had a couple of those backwater planets to fall back to... but never in a jungle. Not worth the trouble. A group of humans that resembled cave men more than anything else, though, hadn't been anyone's guess.

There are always stories of planets bombing themselves back into the Stone Age but... I never considered the saying to be so... literal.

The man's eyes, set deep into his skull, were darting from side to side. Viktor resisted the urge to reach for his gun. Movement would just give his position away.

What is he doing here?

For a moment, Viktor considered his options. Stone Age or not, that spear will rip through my shirt all the same. Was he following me? Or scouting out our settlement?

The figure started sneaking up the path to the hill again.

Wait for it... wait... As soon as Viktor considered the distance between himself and the man great enough, he got up out of the bushes, rustling, and drew his handgun. "Stop right there." Is he going to know what a pistol can-

The enemy turned and, without hesitation, charged at him with a war cry on his lips.

Viktor's single gunshot startled up a couple of birds nearby. They took flight in response, screeching in anger. "You better stay down," he said.

The man was moaning and clasping the leg Viktor had shot him in, but one hand was still gripping the spear.

"What happened?" Both Mushinto and Derek came running up from the settlement with their weapons drawn. Much like the intruder had done earlier, Mushinto's eyes darted back and forth to assess the scene. "Who the hell is that?"

"I suggest you ask him," Viktor said. "But mind the spear. I think he likes to stick it into people." He flashed a grin while holstering his weapon.

"What do we do with him?" Derek asked.

Mushinto was wiping his forehead clean of sweat with his sleeve. "Exactly what Viktor just said. Haul him back to camp and ask him some questions."

Viktor was nodding. "Put him into that infirmary of yours. About time we get some use out of that."

***

"You shot him," Derek said.

Viktor shrugged. "He was trying to gut me. And never forget-"

A scream from the nearby infirmary interrupted him. The kid flinched and turned his back to the noise.

"Never forget that, according to Mushinto, I'm the bad guy here." He grinned. "Anyway, he's only doing what we all agreed on had to be done."

Viktor was about to return to his cook stove when their interrogator walked into the kitchen, his fists and shirt dotted with patches of red. "Some local tribe, nomads," he said. "Calling themselves the Buca something, couldn't make it out. They saw us coming down, he was sent to check it out."

"That was weeks ago," Derek said, trying to avoid looking at his fellow colonist, "what took them so long?"

"No idea. Maybe the tribe wasn't in a position, not close enough, or whatever. Doesn't matter. What matters," he said while washing his hands in a bowl of water, "is that they know we're on the planet, and they know roughly where we are."

"And they might not be the only ones who noticed us,” Viktor said.

"He mentioned two tribes they are clashing with occasionally , on top of some other groups he didn't quite know how to describe."

"More survivors?" Derek asked.

Mushinto shook his head. "Sounded like they've been here for a while. Survivors, maybe, but not from our transport."

"They might be raiders," Viktor said.

"That's good news, isn't it? Other... normal people."

Viktor and Mushinto shot each other a glance before the cook answered. "They might not be friendly."

"Ah. Of course."

"In any case," Mushinto said, "we need to decide what to do with the prisoner."

For the first time during the conversation, Derek turned around. "I won't like the sound of that, will I?"

"We got limited options," Viktor said. "Send him back, keep him imprisoned or get rid of him." And we all know which one we'll choose.

"Why not try to make him join us?" Derek asked. “Surely we can offer him a better life than what he’s used to?”

"He wouldn't be any use." Mushinto had settled at the table with both of his hands curled together.

Probably what goes for business like in his mind. "No useful skills whatsoever?"

"He can slit your throat in a dozen different ways if you let him get close. He certainly tried often enough with me before I had him tied up. That a skill you want around?" No one answered. "Thought as much. He'd be another mouth to feed and I'm not convinced our food supplies will hold up anyway, so keeping him imprisoned is not an option either. Hopefully I don’t have to explain why the same goes for sending him back."

Derek swallowed. "That... that doesn't leave us with much leeway."

"None whatsoever, actually."

Time to play my part. Viktor walked out on them without another word. They wanted to talk it through to ease their conscience. Make it look like they were considering other options. Even Mushinto doesn't like executing an unarmed prisoner, lawful man that he is.

He pushed the infirmary's door open. Inside, the stench of sweat, blood and an untreated wound assaulted him. The heat isn't helping that hole I left in him. Their prisoner lay moaning in the bed furthest away from the door and was writhing around the best he could in his restraints. Mushinto had put a gag into his mouth.

It was the first time Viktor got a good look at the intruder. It's just another kid. Barely older than Derek, if older at all. Good thing Mushinto didn't mention that earlier.

For the second time that day, Viktor fired his gun.

***

Derek didn't show his face much after that. On the few occasions they sat together, mostly in the kitchen, he kept to himself. Under the kid's tight-lipped supervision, they had managed to finish the first of two prison cells by now.

Mushinto, on the other hand, showed no such change. He started just as few conversations as before.

They can all just stay silent for the rest of the week at least. Viktor was chewing down yet another bite of potatoes. Never again. Once I'm off this rock, I'll never eat potatoes again. Or cook, for that matter.

Heavy rain was falling outside, drumming on the roof over their heads. "We need to talk defences," Derek said.

He's scared? Or trying to be sensible? Not actually making sense in any case. "There's not much we can do in that regard."

"Walls," Derek said.

Viktor's chewing slowed down until it ground to a halt. He glanced at Mushinto. However much he wants me dead, he at least has some sense for these matters. More than the kid. Speak up, will you? The man made no attempt to react.

Slowly, Viktor forced down his food. "You want us to build a wall... around the whole compound?"

Derek shrugged. "Something needs to be done."

"We don't have the materials, or the time to do that. Even then, a wall without people to man it will just be torn down."

"Then we need to clear the trees. We need to see them coming."

Mushinto got up. "Going to look after the crops for a bit."

He doesn't even think the discussion is worth having. Viktor started grinning. Maybe that helps somehow. "You don't just clear a jungle away and even if we would, it probably grows back faster than the three of us can cut it down."

The kid pushed his meal away, his face contorted in agitation. "Then burn it down." He was getting louder with each word. "And if it grows back, we'll burn it down again, and again, and again."

Is he losing it? Did offing that prisoner bother him that much? "We don't have the equipment to-"

"Guys," Mushinto yelled from the outside. "Guys, you need to see this." He didn’t sound impressed or had bothered to put any urgency into his voice, but there wasn’t a lot Mushinto would call them for.

Viktor was halfway through the door, checking his gun, when he noticed Derek doing the same. At least he's learning.

The rain patted down on them, mixed with sweat and had them drenched in a heartbeat. Mushinto had turned on the lamps they had installed around the outer perimeter recently. It made for a dull glow through the downpour.

On the other side of the field, illuminated by one of those lamps, stood a single man in shredded clothes and with a thick beard. A short-sword was dangling loose in his right hand, the blade stained with dried blood.

"So," the man yelled over the rain and at the three guns pointed at him, "who's in charge here?”



A/N: Part 2 in a separate post altogether due to character max limit per post. Also, there doesn't seem to be a [spoiler][/spoiler] tag function to keep the rather long post from stretching the page too much, or at least it goes by a different name here. If it's possible to use it here, let me know. (Same goes for a hidden "copy from Word" function in case I'm just missing that one.)

Thanks for the other comments, btw. Also rearranged the parts about when Viktor reveals his gun and the piece of location description in the first part, both were fair points. And Derrick, have fun seeing your Derek counterpart struggle.

Have fun reading.