Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

Chapter 617  22 Second

Conference room, Research Base New New South Wales’ main operations tower.

Commander Takahashi and Major Petrovich were seated along one side of a long conference table that ran down the center of a fairly large, though still barebones, room. At the head of the conference table were the holographic projections of Fleet Admiral Bianchi of the TFS Proxima and Captain Marinakis of the TES Farsight. Across from the commander and major were Dr. Standing Bear, head of research for Task Force Proxima; Lieutenant Commander Kuznetsov, captain of the TFS Revanche; and a representative of the meteorologists who had been assigned to the task force.

“Good afternoon, Commander Takahashi,” Captain Marinakis said. “I wish I had better news for you, but you’ve got a potential disaster coming up on you in a few hours. It seems that a supercell formed off the coast of New Australia and is headed your way. Estimates currently have the center of the storm passing a few kilometers off of your....”

He continued briefing Ayaka until she had been caught up to speed on the current situation on the ground, then finished by asking, “Any questions?”

“No, Sir,” she replied with a faint smile. “I’ll recall everyone that’s out there and sit tight here in the base.”

“Good. Thanks Ayaka—we can’t predict anything about this...” he sighed and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This mage storm. Sounds like something an eighth grader would come up with, but,” he gestured to the meteorology representative at the table, “it’s what meteorology decided to call it. And they’re the ones with naming rights.”

The meteorologist froze, as if he didn’t know whether to be offended or laugh along with the joke.

“I understand, Sir. Not everything can be New Whatever,” Ayaka said with a grin. Captain Marinakis could refer to everyone in his crew by their given names, if he chose, but as one of his subordinates, she certainly couldn’t call him by his... publicly, at least. Grinning was about all the informality she could get away with under the eyes of the strict head of the entire task force.

“You have your orders, Commander,” the fleet admiral interjected. “Best go carry them out before it’s too late.”

“Aye aye, Admiral. I’ll ensure we remain in contact with the fleet as best we can, Sir.”

“See that you do, Commander. Bianchi clear.” His hologram disappeared from the room; as the task force commander, it was a surprise he had even attended the briefing to begin with. He was a busy person and had to handle the tasks that kept the full million people in his fleet operating at their peak efficiency.

The rest of the holograms also flickered out one by one, leaving only the commander and the marine captain in the room.

“I’ll send my people out with orders to sit on the nerd herd if need be, Ma’am,” Captain Petrovich said. “Wrestling bears would probably be easier, I think. My nana used to do that, and if she could do it, I certainly could.” n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“I’ve seen pictures of your grandmother, captain. I think you’ll likely find that you’d rather wrestle bears,” Ayaka joked.

“You’re probably right. My nana was a strong woman.” Captain Petrovich stood and offered her a salute. “I’d best be about it Ma’am. By your leave?”

“Granted, Viktor. Good luck,” she said, returning the salute.

......

Ayaka was in the command center, tracking the progress of the general recall, when OC Parker of the disastrous first landing fame burst into the door. He stumbled over an errant cable on the ground and nearly fell, but was caught by one of the marines guarding the door and saved from another rather inelegant landing.

“Ma’am! Commander Takahashi! W-w-we have a problem, Ma’am!” he stuttered. Trying to speak, stand steadily, and salute all at the same time was obviously an issue for him.

“What’s the problem?”

“There’s a manned crew out there with a downchecked rover. They won’t be able to make it back to base before the storm hits them, ma’am,” Parker said.

“Oh?” Ayaka stood and sent a comms request to the Terrible Teenager. It was time for him to finally pull his quite substantial weight on their shared mission.

......

“Is... is this the end? Am I really going to die here?”

Lee Joon-ho was lying on the ground, broken, bloody, and battered. The visor on his helmet was cracked and an alarm was stridently sounding inside his helmet, warning him of the loss of suit integrity. Twenty-two seconds before, he had been rushing to the site of a busted rover full of scientists to save them. Then... there was no then. He was swatted to the ground by something that he imagined the fist of god would feel like, or what windshields felt like to bugs at freeway speeds. The only reason he knew it had been 22 seconds ago was because his environmental suit’s internal clock was still peacefully ticking away in his HUD.

“Shut up shut up shut up shutup shutup shutup shutupshutupshutup shut the FUCK UP!!” he shrilled at the alarm, completely forgetting that it would be simple for him to disable it. It didn’t matter anyway; there was nothing he could do about his ruined suit. In addition to the cracked visor, the rest of the suit was ripped and torn with gigantic rents in it going every which way.

The empire’s environmental suits were durable and rugged, with hard armor plating embedded anywhere that wasn’t expected to have to move. They also included a certain amount of self-repair capability and, no matter how damaged, they could restore themselves in a matter of half an hour to an hour... assuming, that is, that the wearer could get away from whatever was damaging the suit in the first place.

But that was something that Joon-ho most definitely couldn’t do at that precise moment in time.

The lower half of his body had been “eaten” by a tree, which had sprung up between his legs after he’d been forcefully slammed to the ground. As for the rest of him, well, the rest of him wasn’t doing any better. Small, questing roots had covered his upper body like a pulsing network of blood vessels, immobilizing him and leaving him unable to do anything but take shallow breaths. And the cocoonment continued apace; it wouldn’t be much longer before the roots reached his helmet and interred him on this alien planet.

At least he had proven that the atmosphere was technically breathable.

The twisting and writhing roots finally found his helmet and drilled through it, then into his ears, nose, and eyes. His tongue fought them for a second or two before his mouth, too, was filled with roots. He whimpered as loud as he could in agony, hoping beyond hope that someone—anyone—would swoop to his rescue, but it was all for naught.

Then the pain began.

Joon-ho's life flashed before his eyes and, amidst his muffled screaming, he recalled all of his most cherished experiences. His mother, whom he believed to be a saintess, sacrificing her meals to ensure he was fed.... His first time eating a proper meal, and the pride in his father's eyes when he was selected to join one of the exploration fleets. He remembered all of his waifus, the long nights spent binge-watching anime, and the "love" he felt for his leader and partner on this exploration fleet mission, Commander Takahashi Ayaka.

All of it flashed through his mind and he wondered, 'Is this it? Is this what they mean when they say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die?'.

His eyes, or what was left of them, began glowing a silvery-gray as he came to a decision. If he was going to die, he absolutely refused to die alone.