Lucky 13 (NaNoWriMo 2017)

Chapter 6: A Wolf in...

Reen'een'ee'a concentrates on the controls of his spacecraft. He's performed this maneuver in simulations hundreds of times and several times in reality as well, but never befor with human hands. He hates it.

You would think that five fingers is five fingers, as long as they curle inwards it's all good. That's not true reflects Reen'een'ee'a. Blait hands are stiff, Sveck's are blunt, and Pierin are long and spindly. Working with them is like trying to eat food with two sticks. Now Myren fingers are the perfect shape and size, suited to the deterity need for starship operation yet strong enough to strike one of the hard headed aliens.

Human hands are like Myren hands, but the complete opposite. Blunt like the Sveck's, siff as the Blait's, and the feeling of them, as though they'ed snap the first time Reen'een'ee'a has to punch someone.

The most distasteful thing about transforming into a Human, Reen'een'ee'a has decided, is the monotone gender. For a species that changes gender like others change clothes, to be bogged down to a single option feels as restraining as having an arm tied behind their back.

Reen'een'ee'a's starship drops from warp and begins dropping fast towards the surface of a planet. The power core jettisons and is followed by the warp drive, this is going to be a one way trip.

To call Reen'een'ee'a's ship a ship is stretching it a bit. It's a tin can with an FTL drive. He had been dropped off a quarter lightyear out from a lightly populated planet known to the Terran's as Nike. The planet is supposedly in the process of being colonized and should see decent traffic, enough so that he can make his way back to the Humans home world.

The pods finishes it's drop into the atmosphere and splits apart like a Blait egg on hatching day. Reen'een'ee'a is left hanging in the air with nothing around him but the discarded chunks of his starship and empty space. He spreads his arms to slow his fall, getting above the starship scraps.

He hangs in the air peacefully for several minutes as the planet rushes in closer. He checks his hud, tracking the abundant radio waves of the nearby colony. If his starship had hit the atmosphere a minute earlier or latter he would be hundreds of kilometers off target. As it is, he's within his twenty kilometer target. As the lush grasslands come closer he preps for landing.

His oxygen mask and air tanks are hurdled free of his body, all the better to reduce weight, as are several containers of supplies. His chute deploys, yanking him away from the debris. Seven seconds later he is on the ground and is stripping out of the chute. He connects the canopy to a power cell and the nanos in the material quickly rip themselves to shreds.

The grass is taller than their surveillance had suggested, a three meters that cut down on all visibility. This doesn't quite bother him, it may limit him currently, but the tall stalks should swallow his wrecked ship and emergency supplies.

He's unfolded his map and is checking his compass, when he hears a buzzing sound. Thinking that it's a native predator, he reaches for his gun, which of course is in one of the landing pods he had just jettisoned. The thing responsible for the buzzing comes into view. A pair of small drones lock their eye like cameras on him and hover in place. Reen'een'ee'a freezes, his arrival was supposed to be undetectable and the colony just far enough away for him to bug out before any observers could arrive. Now though, he's been caught red handed.

He runs through his options. Turn and run, no, that would just insinuate his guilt. Eliminate the drones, they've already seen him so that's no good. He decides to just walk it off, hopefully whoever's controlling the drones will lose interest.

He starts making his way through the tall grass. It's not as dense as he had first thought, the plants are arranged into rows, and while the leaves scratch at his skin, no roots reach up to trip him. The drones follow close behind, keeping an eye on him at all times. He again considers eliminate them just to be rid of the infuriating hum, but he worries that the rotors will shred his weak Human hand.