The Longest Dark


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Because I have a @alone sniper on my back and he's slowly zeroing in, here's the next part :D aaaand it's going to be a longer one as a little extra, since the last parts were a little short.

Day 6 - Early Morning - Edge of Interstellar Space, 17 Billion km from the sun

With 14,5km per second, Voyager 2 sped through the endless void of space, the first manmade object to ever leave the solar system. It still sent data towards the rough direction of earth, but there was noone left to read it - Houston had long gone dark as had Hubble, the ISS and Tiangong. Voyager 2, with it's comparatively simplistic late-1970's technology wasn't affected by this though - it was more detached from earth than anything man had ever laid his hands on.

In fact, it was the last electronic device of mankind that still functioned.

Day 6 - Early Morning - Schuman Antarcitc Research Station - Dorms

Sanna woke up early and stretched her slender body. Without artificial light sources, it was difficult to move around in her room, let alone comb her hair or anything so she settled with merely getting dressed properly for the increasingly frosty temperatures. Frostwork was beginning to form on the edges of her window from the inside. She decided to light some of the chinese candles she had brought to warm up the room and spread a more pleasant smell than the odor of people who wash only when necessary, stale smoke and despair. Together with some cinnamon incense sticks, her room warmed up from frosty to cold, and the smell became almost pleasant.

She also put on her boots and put her goggles and gloves into her jacket's pockets. She knew that Alicia was ready to give her an earful for what she already did, but she still felt that she couldn't just sit around in the station. In her mind, she formed a plan, a plan many would dislike but she found of utmost importancy. She disliked it when others called her reckless - what was reckless about doing what needs to be done, injuries be damned? If her ancestors hadn't thought the same way, Finland would be an uninhabited wasteland, right?

It was just before she went out of the hallway and into the bar that she noticed that part of the unpleasant smell was from herself, and she decided to get a cold shower first instead. Actionism was one thing, personal hygiene a wholly different one.

Day 6 -Morning - Schuman Antarcitc Research Station - Bar

The group had decided to eat in the bar instead, partyl because of the nicer interior, partly because it was warmer.
"What a feast." Alicia sarcastically remarked. "German Schnitzels and popsicles. Best breakfast ever."
"Well, it's not like we can have a Full English in times of disaster, isn't it?" Brianna replied stoically. It was obvious she was suppressing anger.
"Yeah, I know." Alicia groused. "Still though, it's been a week, and things aren't getting any better. Do you have any plans?" she added snarkily. 

Sanna entered, oblivious to the tensions and greeted "Good morning y'all."

"Oh, there she is." Alicia sighed. "Listen, you're gonna get yer earful later, Sunshine. Gotta deal with this Irish broad here first."
Brianna seemed stoic, but a careful observer would have seen the corners of her mouth twitch for a second. "Excuse me, Dr. Greenwood." she began. "I believe this is not the time for hostilities."
"This is also not the time for weak leadership." Alicia answered, lit herself a cigarette and puffed the smoke directly into Briannas face.
"Stop it, both of you!" Sanna suddenly shouted. "We're in this together, so fighting has no point!"
Brianna nodded. "Y'know, I'm not mad at you, just-" she was rapidly cut off by Alicia who suddenly slammed her half-empty cup of tea so hard on the counter that it shattered to pieces, spilling hot tea over herself and Brianna, who reflectively recoiled her hands from the scalding liquid.
"Shut the hell up, you bloody..."
The slap resounded in the cold station like a gunshot.
Perhaps the most shocked about it was the one who slapped in the first place - small, weak, short, reckless, inexperienced Sanna.
"Jesus Christ..." Brianna mumbled.
"What..." Alicia begin but was herself cut off by another slap to the other cheek, coloring both sides of her face equally red.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Sanna screamed, which was heard throughout half the station at least - high pitched tones tended to do this - and continued "You call me reckless? Irresponsible? Who's starting fights here?" Sanna sighed for a second, grabbed Alicias pack of cigarettes and lit herself one and continued "Look, we're all on the edge here. Smoke up, get some sleep and come back when you're acting your age again." with those words, Sanna shoved her off her seat. It was the first chance Alicia had the chance to look into her eyes - her eyes, normally so warm and full of youthful energy were cold and judging, like the finnish goddess Tuonetar Sanna once told her about, the goddess of the underworld who greets the dead with a bucket full of worms and frogs, the animals Alicia was recoiled by the most. 

It was at this moment that Alicia noticed that she herself was "going toast" as they called it on Antarctica - a mixture of cabin fever and the knowledge of being in the third-most dangerous environment humans have ever been in, only topped by space and the oceans. Maybe it was the humiliation of being lectured by someone so much younger, yet apparently wiser or the blood rushing back to her head after getting slapped, but she managed to calm down. "Sorry." she mumbled - a classical acceptance vs. pride-case. "Won't happen anymore.". With those words she left.

"What the hell was that about?" Sanna asked as the door closed and Brianna poured her some of the leftover tea. "I always respected her..."
"Please, continue to do so." Brianna answered calmly, having regained her usual composure. "Extreme situations do this to people. I don't blame her. My father was the same. The Troubles, you see? British SAS shooting people everywhere in Ireland while at the same time bombs went off in Britain. A stupid conflict that caused both sides to overreact, if you ask me. My father went through a lot, and sometimes he became distant.... and violent."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know..." Sanna murmured into her tea awkwardly.
"Don't be. I'm just saying - Alicia is a good person who just had a bad moment, and we just had the bad luck to witness it. If we hadn't been there, the cup wouldn't have been the only thing destroyed, and quite frankly, I prefer it she takes her anger out on us verbally than physically on our material posessions, as they're quite valuable right now."
"You're gonna hate me for this, Bri'". Sanna giggled. "But sometimes you sound more british than her, y'know."
Brianna reached out and rifled through Sannas unkempt hair. "Who could hate such a cute little thing such as you, dear? Now, let's go get that mess on your head in order, you look like a mop."

Day 6 -Morning - Near the Antarctic Coast - Downed Fokker F-28 Fellowship, Callsign Toledo-7

Sargento Guillermo Hipólito Arechalaveta had enough. While his men - a small but tough group of Navy Observation Personnell - had been downed for almost a week, none had succumbed to the eternal cold of the Antarctic yet. However, supplies were running low. While the food they had would last for at least another two or maybe three days, they were out of fuel to burn and quite frankly, Guillermo had given up hope that they were resqued any time soon. He stood up and adressed his men.
"Amigos! As you all might have noticed, our situation isn't the best. We still don't know what's going on - maybe it's another cowardly strike by the British. I have a map though, and there are a lot of research stations in this area. In thirty minutes, we will begin to march towards the next one - Schuman Antarctic Research Station, of the European Union - and demand shelter, supplies and access to their radio. If they don't yield, we'll take what we need. Now, get ready!"

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Also, a needed disclaimer:

Any political opinions presented in this piece of fiction are entirely the opinions of fictional characters, who are oftentimes intentionally controversial characters. These opinions do not necessarily represent the opinion of the author. Any resemblance to living or dead persons is entirely coincidental. This is merely a fictional story, nothing more and nothing less.

Thank you for your attention.

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Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Outside - Wind Turbine Ruins

Guillermo and his men surveyed the damage to the wind turbine as they took their positions in the rubble. While the darkness made it hard to see things clearly, even with the limited light of the starts and the Aurora Australis it was clear that something damning had happened to the station. Bits of aluminium, copper wire and unidentifiable, charred things were strewn everywhere.

Guillermo gave his men a hand signal to take cover and approached the station's main door. Quickly, the half-dozen men took defensive positions behind larger pieces of rubble, destroyed vehicles or chunks of ice and readied their FMK-3 submachine-guns. Resembling the popular Israeli UZI and chambered in the same widely used 9mm Parabellum round, these weapons were deadly tools even in unskilled hands, and their operators were by no means unskilled - in fact, they had learned their lethal trade under veterans from the Falklands War. They were a bad combination - professional soldiers trained to kill if necessary in a desperate situation where supplies directly equaled survival.

And they knew they were up against a badly armed research station. Some of the more jaded soldiers intentionally flipped the safety switches on their weapons loudly. Others prayed to God, even though they believed that He had forsaken them,

Each man carefully took aim on a window. The windows were icy and it was impossible to make out details through the thick ice, but sparse light could nonetheless be observed, and thus some movements were visible as well.

The one movement they noticed first though was on the outside - Assistant Researcher Brian Williams, a British citizen working on his doctorate and at that time assigned with gathering snow to keep frozen food frozen . Guillermo noticed him first and grabbed the poor man from behind - he was a good two hands taller than him and his military training made him stronger as well. As he drew his Bersa Tunder 9 pistol and held it against the scientist's back, he whispered in his ear "Don't move. Noone needs to die today. Don't do anything stupid. I want you to go into the station and tell your companions what's up. Tell them we need shelter and supplies. Do this, and, provided they don't do anything stupid, everyone wins. You got that?"
"G-g-g-got that." Brian answered. "I-I-I'll go now..."

Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Cafeteria

Sanna was having a coffee as Brian came back in, suspiciously devoid of the bucket of snow he should be carrying. She turned around on her stool and asked "Hey, Brian, what's up? Where's the snow? That food's not gonna cool itself."
"Ms. Pekannen!" he answered, visibly relieved. "There's... something I need to tell you."
"She's not in the market for marriage right now." Brianna said nonchalantly while frying up some fish sticks for lunch.
Sanna giggled. Brian seemed to lose his state of relief as he said "Seriously, it's important... there's....." With these words, he broke out into tears.
Sanna got up, abandoning her coffee and went up to Brian. "What's wrong, Brian?" she asked. "Seen something out there?"
"There's a bloke out there with a gun.... he wants me.... he wants me to tell y'all.... that they want our stuff. Doesn't seem like they're gonna take a no for an answer."

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Before I post the next part, here's a little announcement. I'll hide it behind a spoiler tag because the stuff I need may give away some stuff I planned for the story. Basically, I need people who know stuff.

 

Spoiler

 

Translators wanted

I'll need native or at least experienced speakers of the following languages to keep up the quality (if there is any, that's for the readers to decide) of this story:

  • Spanish (especially Argentine dialects)
  • Finnish
  • Swedish
  • Russian
  • Italian
  • Chinese
  • Japanese
  • Polish
  • Serbian
  • French

This list is not exhaustive. I may not need all languages at the same time. Pay is, of course, nonexistant, but I'll give you a shoutout and say "Thank you" a lot.

I'll also need the help of experts or experienced persons on these topics in the future:

  • Liquid and solid fuels
  • Hostile wildlife interactions, i.e. what can go wrong if I get mauled
  • Whales, especially those of the southern hemisphere
  • The ozone layer
  • Surgery
  • Engines and vehicles in general (Should've asked for help on that beforehand)
  • Bladed weapons, especially knives

As above, I may not need all of this at the same time, so don't blame me for not contacting you for some time if you volunteer for any of those areas.

Please PM me if you wish to help. 

Thanks in advance!

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Front door

"As acting head of station, I will be the one to go out and negotiate." Brianna said and her tone forbade dissent.
"We'll be right behind you, Brianna." Sanna said and pointed towards herself, armed with a Mossberg 500 shotgun and Wolfgang, armed with a Winchester Model 121.
Wolfgang nodded and added "Let's just hope we won't be needing those..." as he looked not at the firearms both of them held but rather the impressive collection of knives and icepicks Sanna had managed to tie to her belt, some of which he was sure he had never seen before on the station.
"Why don't we just let 'em freeze outside?" Alicia asked, lighting herself a cigarette. She tried to keep her cool, but her shaking hands told another story.
"Standard procedure is to... increase pressure, one might say." Wolfgang answered. "And I know just how they'd 'increase pressure' with half a dozen submachineguns."
"'aight..." she sighed. "Don't let that Irish broad croak out'dere, we still have things to talk 'bout."

Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Outside

"Oi! Here's the acting head o' station. Y'wanna talk?" Brianna shouted. Sanna and Wolfgang could tell she was nervous - she let her dialect come through. In the increasing ice-wind, both took cover behind debris.
"Gracias, Senora." Guillermo shouted back. "Good to see we can solve this peacefully. We are members of the Argentinian Air Force, and we need shelter and provisions until the situation clears up. Are you willing to help?" he added.
Brianna took a deep breath and shouted back into the white, snowy shrowd encompassing apparently all of Antarctica: "Willing? Yes. Able? No. My apologies, but we have barely enough food and fuel for us all here. You can warm up at our place, but for provisions and long-term shelter you'll need to go to a larger station!"
"Eduardo, lado izquierdo!" he hushed to one of his men. "I implore you, we are freezing out here! If we don't get our demands met, we will have to resort to force!" he shouted to Brianna.
It was that precise moment that both Sanna and Wolfgang realized that bright-orange thermo-clothing wasn't exactly the best choice for a potential combat situation. Their worries were confirmed as a short burst of automatic 9mm-fire hit the station's wall just above Sanna's head.
"Olen valmis ollaan kilttejä tänään...." Sanna murmured and took aim - even through the snowstorm, her opponent was clearly visible, especially at such close range. A short movement of her trained trigger finger later, almost 40 grams of lead were propelled beyond the speed of sound directly into the private's face, tearing away large chunks of flesh, bone, teeth and brain. "Miten se maku?" she screamed.
"Aw shite." Brianna whispered into her scarf.
"Ach, Scheisse." Wolfgang whispered into his sleeve as he shouldered his weapon.

All hell broke loose in a hail of gunfire.

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Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Outside

Sanna's opponents were trained specialists, proficient in cold weather survival, mountaineering, marksmanship, tracking and a dozen other feats.
They did not, however, possess Sanna's sight.
Her sight trained in harsh winters, hunting elk and deer.
Keeping the trigger pulled, she pumped her shotgun again and again, adjusting millimeter for millimeter as she shot round after round, heard scream after scream.

Wolfgang watched her. In his blurred view of her short, skinny stature, he saw, for but a blink of an eye, Surma, the finnish mythological representation of violent death.

Day 6 -Afternoon - Inside Sanna's brain

Aim. Pump. Kill.

My mother was taken from me at birth. I grew up without my mother's warmth.

Aim. Pump. Kill.

My father tried his best, and god, do I love him. And yet, I am separated from him.

Aim. Pump. Kill.

I got into university, my father was so proud.

Aim. Pump. Kill. Reload.

I remember my first Elk.

Aim. Pump. Kill.

It was protecting it's young with it's life. Just as I am now protecting my crew with my life.

Aim. Pump. Kill.

My friends.

Aim. Pump. Miss, aw, perkele!

My family.

Aim. Pump. Out of Ammo.

Everything I have on this god-forsaken continent.

Everything I have.

These men.

These men are trying to take it away.

Ready icepick. Jump. Attack.

Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Outside

Guillermo had to watch helplessly as his men were gunned down one by one. They were all trained soldiers, but still, who could blame them for underestimating such a short and frail girl? As he watched her walk out of the station with a shotgun in her hand like she knew how to handle it, he had to stifle his laughter.
And now, most of his men were either dead or dying, the rest were 'tactically' retreating and the 'Short Devil' as he named her seconds ago was closing in on him, an icepick in her right hand and a knife in her left. In the rising snowstorm, he raised his Bersa Thunder pistol and fired a round in her general direction but apparently missed her.
"Mee hervantaan." she murmured as she lifted the icepick....

Day 6 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Outside

The very moment the icepick left the soldier's skull, Wolfgang rushed over to Sanna. "Shhhhhh!" he whispered into her ear as he held her from behind. "It's over now. They're gone. You did good."
Sanna looked at Wolfgang with empty eyes. "I did?"
"Yeah, you did." Wolfgang whispered as he fell to his knees, bringing Sanna with him. "We're all go-"
He was interrupted by Alicia, screaming "BRIANNA!"

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Day 7 -Afternoon - Schuman Antarctic Research Station - Outside

Brianna's "burial" under a pile of half-frozen snow was short and unceremonious, yet both Alicia and Sanna found time to shed some tears. Her death was quick - a stray bullet had apparently entered her head through her right eye socket and, after some ping-pong inside her skull, left through her neck, leaving her neck as a slush-like mess. Especially Alicia was hit hard by her death, still remembering the fights and arguments she got into with Brianna without ever getting the chance to properly apologize.

It was a day after the firefight that it became clear for every last member of the station: There was no help coming.

End of part 1

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed it so far! I introduced parts into the story to more easily justify time jumps since you obviously don't want to read pages upon pages of characters doing a whole lotta jack :D thanks to y'all so far for reading and enjoying this fic despite me never really correcting any mistakes. You guys and gals are awesome!

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