Here, Fishy Fishy!
GRIZZLY BEARS... IN... SPAAAAAAACE!
This story was originally a submission to FurAffinity's Thursday Prompt writing group.
Here, Fishy Fishy!
By: DankeDonuts
https://dankedonuts.sofurry.com/
Above... the freezing vacuum of space, relentless solar winds, and brutal magnetic storms.
Below... the rush and roll of blue-green gasses, packed by enormous pressure into to a foam-like consistency. Whipping by at hundreds of klicks per hour more than any vessel could withstand.
In between these opposing deaths Captain Korvan drove his ship, the Streamrunner. Its ovoid hull, long stripped of all decorative color and in need of having its signage reapplied, was custom-crafted to endure thick atmosphere and crushing g-forces. She juked out of the way of an updraft, and rolled free of a cross-wind. Shuddering at a sudden resistance from the direction of the gas giant's northern pole.
"That squall in Sector Five-Three is getting testy," the old Grizzly churled into his throat mic. "And big enough to swallow a moon. Correcting course three point five degrees by negative two point eight." His crew had already lost two day's work to the torrent. He was not going to lose them another!
Within Korvan's cramped cockpit, the viewshield was locked down. Against winds of this speed, it could prove as much of a liability as a boon. He flew by instruments alone. And the music coming from Streamrunner's triple-reinforced hull straining this way and that. Every groan had a meaning, answered by a corresponding action of the control yoke or tap of a floor pedal.
When telltale beeping from a sensor panel started up, the bear licked his grinning lips. "Get the nets ready!" he bellowed.
Only now would he risk a clear field of vision. "Raising viewshield!" Its transparent ceramic panes protested immediately upon exposure to the screaming wind. But the view was worth it; outside, striated teals of naked atmo-plumes were scarred by wriggling shadows. Hazy and long, moving of their own accord. A few at first, then dozens. Hundreds! "On my mark... Deploy!"
A new tremor grazed his ears, that of the external rigging re-orienting itself. Mighty arms craning outward, laden not with solar sails but webs of carbonized nano-steel.
"Here we go, lads!" the captain cheered, pressing the yoke into a hungry charge. "Keep up the fusion feeds! The sooner we fill our holds, the sooner we go home!"