Snippet #2544140

Cole cursed as wire snapped back. It snagged his skin for an instant, leaving a cut behind. Withdrawing his hand, he growled at the lack of having gloves for this wretched job. He had found a downed one-man travel craft in his little excursion into the jungle. It had been hidden, buried beneath a couple years of plant life. It would have blended in completely had it not had a wingtip jutting out from the foliage and partially grown-over in a tree trunk. It was an old thing, almost reclaimed by the forest. And it had taken all of his patience and the motivation of curiosity to rip through vines, roots, and stalks to get to the inner chamber. Now, he was settled down in its cockpit just below jungle floor level with a basic handheld toolkit trying to jury-rig the thing back to life. It had thus far only proved to have a strand of emergency power left, just enough to flash an angry emergency signal at him twice. It was sufficient for him to be inspired to try and fix what he could, if for no other reason than it would be a decent place to sleep for the night. Away from the outposts and out in the insanity of the untamed planet he had been marooned on. Worst-case scenario, he headed back to one of the outposts and called for sanctuary. The Society - if it was still here - would be legally obligated to take him back to the nearest civilized planet. He hoped. The haywire droid from the other outpost was... less likely to be of help. As it was, it had been an ordeal to get outside of that base's perimeters.

Leaning back against the cold surface, Cole stared upward. Jungle canopy, with speckles of grey overcast and the distant rumble of thunder. A rainstorm was rolling in. He'd be damned if he got stuck here for it. Who knew what the water here carried. Viruses, parasites, perhaps it was as bad as Oranig's and was simply just a mass of microscopic carnivores that consumed everything that fell into its depths. At least, though, it was a few minutes out. He still had a little bit of time to try and fix at least something of the travelcraft, if he didn't bleed all over its interior first. Murmuring phrases of irritation, he dug out a simple bandage wrap from what remained of his pocket first-aid kit. It was grossly oversized, and stained in a couple of places. He unraveled it a bit, then began wrapping it around his hand. Medic would have been able to do it superbly; Cole was stuck working with outdated memories of the basic traveler's first-aid class he had only paid half attention to.