>> she hefted a metal rack containing a pair of 50-kilogram dead-drop bombs in the other, as if it were no heavier than a pair of milk bottles.
>*whistles* You'd think that'd be almost impractical on size alone, let
They're about a meter long by 20 cm in diameter (~3 feet by 8 inches in Church of England). Awkward, but not impossible.
>> But here she was, stepping out of her boots, then taking hold of the Striker dock's rails for balance as she took off her trousers—and with a shock, Eila saw why she wore them, and why she walked with a pronounced limp: the Orussian's right leg ended just below the knee. She'd left the prosthetic behind in her boot.
Eh, you don't really need your feet to operate a Striker. Dolores "Tin Legs" Bader of the RAF doesn't have either of hers, and she does all right.
>> "Thank you for saving mine," she replied, and they stood there for a long few minutes before, at last, turning away from the frozen city and starting the long trudge to Rautu.
>But at least they're alive! And hopefully packing alternate footwear
>because otherwise someone else might be needing foot prosthetics. >.>
One of the many advantages of valenki is that they are easy to cram into a pocket. (They're not water-resistant, but in Suomus in winter, it's actually too cold for that to be a problem.)
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