Somewhere in the Antarctic.....
Captain Steins Troffer had always hated the Antarctic.
He looked through window of his plane, the vastness of Antarctic stretched out before him like a diseased canvas.
All he could see was a realm of unyielding cold that seem to suffocate the life out of his body.
He missed the excitement of being in the battlefield,
He always loved to talk about his battles, how many armed forces he had faced and defeated.
He could remember the faces the men make when they charged at him mindlessly, these were the easiest to kill in the battlefield.
He could remember how his men cower in fear, how some acted out like ladies out of fear in the battlefield.
He could still remember the sounds of grenades detonating all at once bursting his eardrums, and how he always tread carefully in forest in case of any landmine planted there.
He could also remember the most dangerous soldiers as the battlefield "the snipers"
They are always hidden in a camouflage, waiting for an opportunity, catching most soldiers unaware as the tread the battlefield.
They are the most difficult to capture because they are always hidden somewhere far from the battlefield.
The battlefield was were his adrenaline was always at the top. He missed those feelings of narrowly escaping from the clutches of death.
He begins to think about his latest posting.
He has been posted to a research station inhibited by scientists who are developing new nuclear weapons for their country.
He thinks the scientists are just morons who willingly sentenced themselves to a prison of ice and darkness.
The cold has always been his enemy, and now he is at a frozen wasteland surrounded with nothing but glaciers and water.
He really misses the soft touch of summer as he longed for warmth in the cold, but he couldn't find any.
" damn this place" he muttered as he looked down through the window of his plane.
" sir", the pilot alongside captain Steins said,
" There is a blizzard ahead of us, we can't continue in the air because it will be dangerous if we get caught in a blizzard, we could crash sir" the pilot said worryingly.
"How far is it to the base"?
" about hundreds of metres sir"
Captain Steins sighed " I guess we will have to carry on the rest of the journey on feet, any contact yet from the base"?
" Still nothing sir" the pilot answered with a little tension.
" keep trying to contact them, they should reach out to us soon enough" captain Steins replied reassuringly.
"Too Young" Captain Steins pondered as he stole a glance at the pilot.
He reminds him of his comrades he fought alongside during the foreign wars against the other countries.
He could remember how young they were and how horrible their death was for their age, he could still remember the cries of one of his comrades screaming for his mother as he lost one of his limbs..., it was terrifying.
Politicians, they should be hang on the wall. They are nothing but pigs who seat home and steal all the money for the people only to send the younger generations to die at the warfront while they enjoy life at their old age, Captain Steins sighed , he knows fully well that humanity is nothing but corrupt.
Captain Steins voice came steady over the intercom.
"Prepare for emergency landing. Snowstorm ahead, visibility dropping to near zero."
The young Pilot, Lieutenant Thompson's eyes widened. "Captain, are you sure? We can't see a thing!"
"We have no choice," Steins replied, his gaze locked on the instruments.
"The storm's closing in fast. Start the descent."
The plane shuddered as took control, navigating through the swirling snow. The instruments beeped erratically, protesting the turbulent air.
"Altitude 10,000 feet... 9,000... 8,000..." Thompson called out his voice right
"Leveling off at 7,000," Steins said, his hands steady on the controls. "Prepare for landing."
The storm raged on, tossing the plane like a toy. Steins's team held their breaths as he expertly guided the aircraft.
Suddenly, the engines sputtered. "Loss of power!" Thompson shouted.
"Mayday, Mayday!" Steins barked into the radio. "This is Flight 121. We're going down!"
The plane careened wildly, throwing passengers off balance. Steins fought to regain control.
"Brace for impact!" he yelled.
The plane crashed through the snow-covered terrain, throwing up geysers of white. The impact threw Steins against the controls.
Silence.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Steins slowly regained consciousness, his head throbbing. The cockpit was dark, instruments dead.
"Thompson?" he called out, his voice hoarse.
"Here, Captain," Thompson replied with a weak voice."What... what happened?"
"We crashed," Steins said, assessing their situation. "We need to get out."
The storm still raged outside, snowdrifts reaching the plane's windows.
"Patel! Rodriguez!" steins shouted.
Sergeant Patel and Private Rodriguez stirred, groggily responding.
"Assess injuries," captain Steins ordered. "We need to move."
As they struggled to free themselves, Steins knew their survival depended on finding the research station.
"Gear up," he said. "We have a long walk ahead."
The team donned parkas and emergency gear, stepping into the Antarctic wilderness.
The team trudged through the knee-deep snow, luggage and emergency gear in tow. The plane's wreckage loomed behind them, a crumpled testament to their catastrophic landing.
Captain Steins halted, gazing out at the endless white expanse. "Alright, let's get our bearings."
The team dropped their luggage, forming a makeshift circle. Steins pulled out a cigarette, seeking a brief respite from the chaos.
"Ah, hell," he muttered, struggling to light the cigarette. The wind howled, snuffing out the flame. Steins tried again, shielding the lighter with his cupped hands.
"Come on," he growled, but the flame refused to catch.
"Sir, maybe it's not the best time," Lieutenant Thompson suggested, his eyes scanning the horizon.
Steins glared at the uncooperative cigarette. "Just need a minute."
Sergeant Patel approached, his face wind-chapped. "Captain, we should get moving. This storm's not letting up."
Steins nodded, tucking the cigarette away. "You're right. Let's gear up."
As they shouldered their luggage, Private Rodriguez spoke up. "Sir, do we have a plan?"
Steins gaze locked on the horizon. "We find the research station. It's our only hope."
"..."
Captain Steins gazed out into the relentless snowstorm, his eyes straining to pierce the veil of white. The Antarctic landscape stretched before them like an endless, frozen desert. His scout team, consisting of Lieutenant Thompson, Sergeant Patel, and Private First Class Rodriguez, huddled beside him, their faces masked against the biting wind.
"Alright, team," Steins shouted above the howling gusts. "We need to keep moving. The research station can't be far."
"But, sir," Thompson replied, his voice muffled by his parka, "the GPS is unreliable in this storm. We could be walking in circles."
"I know," Steins said, his eyes narrowing. "But we have to try. The plane's not going anywhere, and we can't stay here. The blizzard will consume us."
The team nodded, shouldering their packs. They had been walking for hours, the biting cold seeping into their bones. The plane's engine failure had left them stranded, and the storm's fury had forced them to abandon the wreckage.
"The temperature plummeted to a merciless -40°C, the air knife-sharp and unforgiving. The team's breaths visibly misted, fragile wisps of warmth vanishing into the frozen void. Every step felt like wading through a crystalline sea, the snow's icy grip reaching up to their thighs.
The drifts towered above, 1.5 meters of unyielding white that stretched out like an endless, featureless expanse. Snowflakes danced around them, maddening swirls of crystal that stung skin and obscured vision. The world shrank to a tiny, frozen sphere, where every step forward felt like a battle against the Antarctic's unyielding fury.
The cold seeped into their bones, a creeping numbness that threatened to devour all warmth. Steins team pushed on, faces masked against the biting wind, their footsteps muffled by the snow's suffocating depth."