Wild Beast: A Rough Sci-Fi Romance

Coasters are scout ships that run on the wash of interstellar cruisers. Larger companies run fleets of the things, tens of thousands of them. They pick up the signals of other exploration vehicles and do their best to snipe discoveries out from under them by calling in larger fleets who can move quicker than our old boats.

The mere mention of coasters is enough to stop Steve from objecting. There is a lot at stake here. The rest of our lives, in fact.

Steve and Kurt get underway with setting up the shelter I’ll be staying in for the next however long. I don’t do this part. My job is simply to exist. It really is as simple as that. While they get my new home ready, I pack my stuff up out of my cabin. I don’t have a lot. You don’t need a lot when you’re living in a contained environment that provides for all your needs. I have some clothes, mostly cozy regulation space jumpsuits. They’re baggy and soft and more comfortable than I can verbally explain. They feel like being cuddled by the world’s nicest teddy bear. I match them with snugboots. They are boots made out of a similar fabric, but thicker and rubber soled. They can withstand temperatures down to minus a hundred degrees Celsius, and they feel like walking on an actual cloud. I am wearing my favorite pair right now in preparation for going out into the new world.

I give myself one last look in the mirror. I am a hooded figure with bright red hair bursting out from the pale caramel snugsuit. It is loose fitting, but you can still make out the curves of my body, which are ample. My eyes are brown, and my lashes dark. Do I look good? I don’t know. I don’t look glamorous. I look like a woman who is about to settle down for some hardcore relaxation for the next year or two.

I have to admit that at this point, even I am nervous. I’m always nervous when I’m about to be marooned. You think you’ll get used to it, but you don’t. There’s always a chance you won’t survive. There are pills in storage that’ll take the edge off if you start losing your shit completely. There are pills for basically everything, actually. Pills to take away pain. Pills to make you go you know. Pills to make you stop going you know. Pills you take when you’ve had too many other pills. And, I’m pretty sure, some pills that aren’t legal on Earth, but to which no local laws apply.

I take a deep breath to calm down. This planet is the motherlode. This is the one that makes us all richer than our wildest dreams. I’ve got to keep my mind on my money.

“Penelope? Are you ready?” Steve calls out to me through the intercom.

I shoulder my pack of stuff. “Yep. Good to go!”

“Stand by!”

As tempting as it might be on some level to just go haring out the hatch and into the wilderness, I’m not supposed to go out until the encampment is secured. I am the key to the success of this mission, and they’re not going to risk me being hurt.

Taking a seat on the bridge, I watch what’s going on out there on the security monitors. This planet, or at least the visible part of the planet, is very overgrown. Dense forest covers every bit of the world I can see. I once heard that planets are just big planter boxes for forests. I am sure that once this place is settled, all this will be cleared and replaced with a nonporous substance, upon which sensible homes and businesses can be built. Sometimes I feel a little guilty about colonizing the universe with people things, but I suppose it’s just hanging about doing not much of anything else anyway. Does a tree care if we turn it into a desk? I bet it doesn’t. I’ve never heard one complain.

The residence site is atop a small hillock with good visibility and line of sight to the stars. Kurt and Steve set up the encampment, arguing the entire time about how it is supposed to be laid out. Personally, I don’t care. I’m going to be spending all my time in the main reinforced room, the one where the food station and the entertainment wall join forces to keep me happy and entertained for months to come.

My little cabin will stand up to animal attacks, high winds, and in the case of floods it will conveniently float along until the water decides to deposit me somewhere. It is a very safe little cabin, and there is enough original programming on board to last over a thousand years without ever playing the same show twice.