The shattered edge

[arvg]

The escape pod trill-beeped again.

Alvarez's eyes shot open, as he realized he wasn't dead... there were small miracles at work, that he was sure of. Maybe his wife's spirit, and the God she believed in were still watching out for him.

The tell-tale trill beep.

He reached out to rub the condensation on the glass of the escape pod, and was surprised to see he wasn't drifting in space. Quite the contrary, he was on a deck, somewhere, surrounded by snow?!?!

"Atmosphere detected, warning climate beyond the pod is at exposure levels... you are advised to..."

Alvarez, as usual, promptly ignored the computer.

Safety wasn't sitting in a pod on some alien ship waiting to be rescued, when any old beastie could come along and view him as a tasty sardine in a little can.

He slipped the BDI helmet off as he took his first breath of the alien air. Stingingly cold...

Dropping to a knee beside the pod he quickly flipped open the survival gear hatch, tugging out the warm thermal sweater and the heavy wool coat, he donned them, glancing around him... finally tugging the warm fur cap that was Coalition standard. Taking just enough time to sling on the Klashnikov assualt rifle and ammunition he needed.

Armed, warm, and feeling moderately better about his situation he stared around the gigantic bay. There were ships there, buried beneath a thin layer of crisp white snow... indicative of a severe environmental malfunction somewhere in the ship... he turned and blinked at the massive force-field separating his bay from the depths of space.

"¡oh mi dios!" he uttered watching the ships, slivers of light, battling the drones. Flashes of weapons fire flickering too and from, followed by the brilliant blooms of Razor fire.

"Alvarez to Kerimov," he called, clicking the TAC-LINK...

Static

"Si, si, typical," he murmured. Shaking his head as he searched for a way out of the bay.

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