Stranded in Paradise 002 by XENOPHONZ ()
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His eyes roved ceaselessly, searching for any potential location to move the heavy armored dropship, which for now would be serving him as home. Thus far, he'd come up empty. In fact, this terrain was worse than where he'd managed to land upon arrival.
The corrupt Commodore's bootleg DART wasn't exactly the sort of craft that he would have chosen for these conditions....these conditions where his very survival hung in the balance. No question about it: the DART was a beautiful machine, sleek, fast, and highly maneuverable. Luxurious. Just like everything else that the Commodore had considered to be worth stealing, or gaining by graft. The DART was armed -- a definite plus -- but it wasn't a military-grade craft.
The DART was a rich man's toy. Or at least, unarmed versions of the craft would be for rich men, back on the home world. This armed version was more like something that would be used by high-end system police forces. Or at least by the commanders of those forces. A craft like the DART would be too highbrow to waste on subordinates.
Still, he was very glad that he had it. The heavy armored dropship wasn't the best craft for exploring and surveying a landscape.....and his own vacuum-environment maintenance craft wasn't designed for extensive use in atmosphere or planetside. The DART, while not ideal for this job and for this particular situation, was a far, far better means of gathering information about the local terrain than walking through the hellish conditions on the ground would have been. Not to mention being a lot faster.
In some ways he felt that the DART fit into this world like the Commodore's wife's ornate solid silver tea service would have fit into the station barracks maintenance break room back home.
Or perhaps that was just his own prejudices speaking. He had to admit that the DART was probably the most comfortable vehicle that he'd ever piloted, and he had piloted many. Which comfort upon reflection was a good thing, considering the perilous environment outside.
No, he wasn't prepared for this environment. But if you had to go on an involuntary trip -- potentially one-way -- to a natural toxic waste dump of a world: then why not do it in style? Like wearing a top-tier fedora and high-class glowsuit on a trip to explore the interior of a volcano.........or a neutron star.
At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor, he thought. Yet.