REENTRY wrote:"We're going in too fast, Alan!" shouted Command Module Pilot Svetlana Savitskaya. "Our vectors are off, the retro-rockets might not cut it."
"Don't worry, Svetlana." Mission Commander Alan Shroompard replied with gritted teeth. "We'll hold her steady. Come on... come on... we'll be alright when the chutes deploy and when we land, we'll be home free."
"We might not land," Flight Engineer Maurizio Cheli muttered to himself, fiddling with various controls as he did so. "We might not make it. We'll crash. We'll die."
"No we won't die," Alan Shroompard insisted, looking at the Langley pilot straight in the eye. "You know why, Mauri?"
"W-why?" Maurizio asked hesitantly, looking back at his senior spaceman.
"Why? Because God won't let us die, that's why!" Alan grinned cockily. "We're just too pretty to die!"
"Hate to break it to you, boys and boys, but the Earth is blue and there is no God." Svetlana interrupted. "Chutes have deployed and we're set to land, everyone grab on to something!
THE GOLDEN HORDE
In Goddamn Unreal Time
Outer Mongolia Khitan
WHAM!
The Selene capsule landed with a loud thud, jolting all its occupants with a bone-jarring impact. The interior shook with a force unlike any other, rattling the passengers like rocks in a can. Crash webbing and shock-absorber cushioning did little to stem the tide of butt-breaking that came with landfall, and thus butts were broken, bones were jarred and rocks were canned really goddamn hard.
"We're still alive!" Maurizio hollered. "Alive! So pretty, so sweet and still alive!"
"Yes, I can see that clearly," Svetlana sighed, genuine relief mixing with dry wit. "Oh, Boshe Moi."
She turned to see Alan, who looked at her and gave her his trademark cocky grin.
"I told you so," Alan laughed.
"I can't believe this," Svetlana sighed. "When we get out of here, I'm so going to fly back to Shroomania."
"Hm? Visit me in my apartment, eh?" Alan asked. "Well, I haven't tidied it up since the last time you came and we messed it all up, but I guess you can help me clean up and -"
"No, not for
that." Svetlana protested, her cheeks flushing red. "First, I'm going to Shroomania to get my hands on that goddamn Miranda Moonbeam and punch her in the ovaries. Then, yes,
that. A lot of
that."
"Well, at least there's some girl-on-girl action before that!" Maurizio laughed.
"Shut up, Maurizio!" Svetlana spat. She growled at him and decided to quit dilly-dallying and get on with it - they
were recently crash landed on uncharted terrain, after all. "This is serious business. Right," she took a deep breath. "Let's get back to business."
"Yeah, would've been hard doing it in a space suit," Maurizio muttered to himself. He unbuckled the crash-webbing that wrapped him to his space-chair and got up to take his helmet off. As he stood up, he suddenly felt a painful throbbing at the side of his head. An impact-bruise. Goddamn it. "Shit, those helmets need more padding..." he whined loudly. And then, more quietly so their Command Module Pilot wouldn't hear him:
"Who piloted this thing anyway? Could use work on her landing. Sheesh."
"Shut up, Maurizio," Svetlana quipped. "We're alive and well. All in all, it was a pretty fine landing."
"Where are we? Did you get a fix on descent?" Alan asked. He too was getting off his rocker and taking off his helmet. Mauri was right, they did need more padding.
"Khitan, most likely." Svetlana sighed again. Which Alan thought was cute. "South of the UCSR border somewhere."
"Oh, fuck. We're boned." Alan uttered. All while Mauri was busy pulling himself out his spacesuit, like a fat larvae metamorphing into a skinny blue-haired Langley butterfly.
"We should get moving,
komandir. Perhaps we can make it across the border with flight recorded tapes."
"Yeah... just let me get out of this suit." Alan got up and joined Mauri in disrobing. It was a routine procedure, all things considered, Alan had did a whole bunch of post-landing suit-offs for a while now. Mauri, on the other hand, was a total newbie and was by now thrashing like a beached whale. "Watch your elbows, Maurizio! Jesus!"
"Ugh," Svetlana sighed, seeing the two of the big boys bicker and blunder. She decided to get out of the pod and give them their special little space. She popped the hatch open and crawled out to survey the scene around her. "It's clear! Come on, let me help you out..."
She, in her bulky space suit, reached to help out the two men who were already partially removed of their space suits. She pulled Alan out and was in the process of helping Maurizio when the little capitalist pig suddenly darted back into the pod, unbalancing Svetlana and almost making her fall. And
then he started throwing stuff out. Canned food rations, water supplies, a golden (radiation-shielded) compass, waterpacks and even packets of space-diapers. Everything he could get his hands on.
Svetlana had to jump in her bulky space suit to avoid the torrent of projectiles, and then Maurizio emerged triumphantly out of the capsule. Since he was partially off his space suit, he had utterly no trouble walking out of the capsule.
Svetlana was about to mutter something derisive when Maurizio's shit eating grin turned serious. Svetlana turned to see what he was looking at and there she was a little Khitanese boy, who saw her. His eyes went wide.
"Guys?" Svetlana cried.
At this, the boy screamed in girlish fear and ran back to who knew where.
"Well, fuck. You guys better hurry up." Maurizio said, watching the boy run. "I'm sure he'll bring the Army down on us."
"Shut up and pack those rations, will you?" Alan shouted from within the capsule (he had gone in to get some of the things Mauri had totally forgotten about, like the transponder and the data-disks). "And help Svetlana get out of her suit!"
"With pleasure," Maurizio said with glee.
"Watch out, kid." Alan grinned as Svetlana shot him a dirty look. "She'll give you communism!"
Selene 3 landing site, half an hour later
The steeds of the great
Mongol Khitanese nomads brought them to the site of desecration. Hooves crushed the shards of sand-turned-glass as they neared the curious gleaming metal thing that the boy said had fallen from the skies. Harsh winds blew past them as the sandstorm came near, billowing the cloth wings of the strange sky-steel sphere.
There - men, and a woman too by the looks of it - were those who had fallen from the sky. The
Mongol Khitanese riders moved to encircle them.
"Damn. And I thought it was a bad day when I was up there..." Alan sighed. He discretely moved his hand to the transponder he had picked up from inside the capsule. Discretely, he switched it to a different frequency, the one that was the Shroomanian Air Force's secret protocol for downed pilots behind enemy lines. Alan Shroompard surveyed the various Khitanese riders around them.
"Quick," Mauri whispered. "Establish First Contact. Screw the Prime Directive."
"Err..." Alan looked around uneasily. "Svetlana?"
"Whatever you're going to do," Svetlana replied tersely, holding tightly in her hands the closest miscellaneous object from the capsule that could be fashioned as a weapon. "You better do it quick,
komandir."
"Right," Alan nodded and straightened himself. He gazed at the one he assumed was the head honcho of the assorted riders. Then, plainly: "Howdy, partners. Mornin'."
At this, the assorted
Mongolians Khitanese gasped and even the biggest and meanest looking of the nomad riders, with their compound bows and wolf furs, moved back - their horses neighing uncertainly and plopping backwards with their hooves.
"Ka-cha cropek!" one of the
Mongols uttered, eyes wide and mouth open.
It speaks!
"Kang-ching-kola!" another said.
The Prophecy!
"Ping-pong-pee-pang!" the lead
Mongol Khitan barked.
We do not know!
"Tai-chi-yang-chok!" said the other.
Then bring the elder!
"Kaplah!" bellowed the lead
Mongol Khitan.
They parted ways, like the Pink (Foam) Sea of Shroomanian lore, and thus hobbled amidst them a decrepit old lady - with moldy old parchments in her hands.
"Ahhhh..." the old lady intoned. She gazed with half-blind eyes, gazed at the three Strangers From The Sky. "Strangers..." she uttered, remembering vaguely ancient tongues learned from Pre-Cambrian times. "...From The Sky."
"You speak Shroomish?" Alan asked.
"Yesss..." the old lady said, struggling with the strange speech. "You, leader of Sky Men?"
"Um," Alan hesitated, looking at Mauri and Svetlana. Then he said with conviction: "Yes."
"Oooh... This be your wench?" the grandma pointed at Svetlana.
"Uhh..." Alan looked at Svetlana, who rolled her eyes. "Yeah."
"Aaaahhhh... this be, first born son?" she then pointed at Mauri.
"Errr..." Alan looked at Mauri, who grinned and gave him a thumbs-up sign. "Sure."
"Waaaalaaarraaaaklaaaaa!" the old hag then shrieked as she turned to face her fellow nomads. "Kang-ching-kola!"
The Prophecy!
"Kang-ching-kola!" the other tribesmen bellowed in chorus.
The Prophecy!
""Kang-ching-kola!" the nomads declared.
"Kang-ching-kola!"
"Oh my God, they'll kill us all!" Mauri whimpered in womanly fear.
"Just let them try," Svetlana nodded, gripping her sharpened weaponized FASTA standard-kit space commode tightly and menacingly.
"Hey, guys. Let's calm down a little bit, okay?" Alan suggested. "I'm sure we'll be fine."
As those words left Alan Shroompard's mouth, the
Mongols Khitanese who stood around them knelt and laid their heads low - while those on stallion steed bowed their heads in strange reverence.
"Whhhaaaaayaa..." the old lady turned to face them again. "As it has been foretold, as it shall be!"
"Okay," Alan nodded and smiled politely.
"Now quick!" the grandma had accustomed herself to their Sky Man Tongue. "Something evil this way comes!"
"Something evil?" Mauri cringed. "What?!"
"Standstorm," the elder said, pointing at the horizon.
"Come on guys," one of the younger
Mongol Khitanese riders who wore sunglasses said to them, feigning a Shroomanian accent while chewing non-existent bubblegum. He gestured them to a bunch of riderless horses with saddles, apparently considerably prepared for their use. "Let's beat it, daddy-o!"
"Shall we?" Alan turned to look at Svetlana and offered his hand to her.
"Surely," Svetlana shrugged, inadvertently letting her hair fall down. Then she smiled and held his hand.
"Hey, what about me?!" Maurizio whined.