Cold. That was the first word Zoey would use to describe herself at this moment. The metallic walls of her abandoned shack providing minimal insulation against the barren tundra she found herself in. It had been a week since the Affini menace came to enslaved Terra and her people, and it was today her backwater planet was ravaged and ruined by the damn weeds. To ensure she wouldn't be captured or killed by the violent destruction of the colony she called home, she fled into the tundra and never looked back. Some baggy clothes, a ripped but somewhat warm canvas coat, and a backpack of canned food, a bottle or two of water and some shaving cream and razors (but in her rush to pack she forgot a mirror, damn it!) It was a small miracle that she found this one room hovel in the middle of nowhere, may have been from one of the original colonists who needed quick shelter during initial terraforming. Didn't matter now, it was her home for the foreseeable future. The dingy hole was a dark, one roomed metallic box with a combination of a gas heater and stove in one corner, a dusty table of questionable stability sat next to the stove, a rusty stool of even more questionable stability sitting under the table that could be pulled out from underneath. On the other side was a bed, the metal frame looked sturdy enough, but the lack of a mattress proved it to be hard to find the use for it. a night stand complimenting it, shockingly stable enough to stand on it's own as well.
Zoey shrugged the duffel bag of essentials onto the table, the cans and bottles rustled and clunked as she placed it down. on her shoulder she unslung the shotgun she hoisted on her back. Some old "gift" from her parents to man her up, Unless she was some psychopath like her parents that wouldn't mind to gun down innocent miners like herself for fun, there wasn't much to shoot on this half-terraformed corporate rock from hell. She placed it onto the table next to her duffel bag, those damn weeds forced her to carry what should've stayed as a dusty memory in her attic. Fortunately, she packed a sleeping bag which she laid next to the empty bed frame, every part of her wanted to call it day just now and zip up and sleep, but there was still some light yet, and she needed to get warm. Small problem however... Her new (decades old) gas heater had no gas
Reaching into her pocket she grabbed her phone, the remaining battery life remained at ten percent, but to gain life-giving heat was worth the death of her phone. Despite being leagues into unknown tundra, she was still able to access data. That's the one thing she can give to the affini. Hell, she could even give that the new search engine interface was pretty nice to look at now, if not a bit demeaning at her intellect. No matter, she typed up "how to make a fire beginners" onto her phone hoping she'd be able to glean some useful information. A long sigh escaped from Zoey's mouth, visibly hanging into the air for a split second before dissipating, Instead of useful guides on survival and keeping herself warm, the search seemingly was confused at her idea of making even a fire. "Fires can be awfully dangerous for sophont who do not know how to properly contain them, if you require anything. Please feel free to ask your local Affini!" A pop up appeared on the screen of her phone, underneath was photos of the weed's propaganda of their slaves looking happy in the vines of those things. She shut off her phone and tossed it onto the table, nothing of worth is going to be found online anymore.
It's not like she needed a fire or gas anyways, she was going to have to be a rugged survivor. She could survive being a little chilly for a while. The heater laid cold and barren as she pulled a can of soup from her bag, pulling the top of it open and discarding it into the corner of the shack. She forgot to pack any cutlery, so she drank the soup right from the can. The salty broth slid down her throat alongside the cold, wet noodles and soft chunks of preserved chicken. It was alright, probably would've been better warm but beggars can't be choosers. After finishing the can of soup she chucked it in the corner where it's lid was. It wasn't filling, and it wasn't all that good, but it was calories. and if she rationed them well she was sure she could make due until she found a way to get more food.
The rest of the day was filled with Zoey trying (and failing) to acquire any more survivalist information from her phone, the pop-ups getting more and more confused on why she would try to learn how to do things like "what gas does gas heaters use" "gas heater pilot light how to" and "stop pop ups guide" this went on for a while until her phone eventually ran out of battery and died. Zoey frustrated that it seemed obvious that the weeds wanted her to either die out here, or surrender. But it wasn't any matter, she was a rugged survivor, she can learn these things by hand. The dusk eventually turned to night and the now tired Zoey eventually retired to her sleeping bag. It was a bit warmer than being in the hovel normally, but the cold still managed to creep into the insulation of the bag. It was cold, the ground uncomfy even with the sleeping bag, but after the long trek her brain eventually took the hint, and Zoey fell asleep.
Warmth, Zoey's sleeping bag was considerably warmer as she opened her eyes to greet the new day. the orange light of the heater slowly focusing into view as she had to do a double take... The heater was alight. She left her sleeping bag to walk over to the newly lit heater, Instead of the old rusty gas heater that was originally there, a sleek white electrical heater hummed happily, a holographic projector inside displaying a fake fire protected by a transparent material above the vents that shot out the heat. Her heart sank, she looked around more. The dust that caked her shithole was now swept away, the old can in that corner now suspiciously missing. The bed frame was now equipped with a thick mattress, covered in colorful purple bedsheets. A pillow in a darker yet vibrant purple, and a heap of blankets at the foot of the bed. And most striking of all, the night stand held a small tablet on top of it. It was about the size of a book but the thickness of a few sheets of paper and began to softly buzz after she noticed it's existence.
"Oh stars no..." forcibly escaped her mouth... She wasn't alone.