EV/EVO Chronicles: Zero Degree Tolerance

Author's note: This is our second adventure with freight captain Leery (the first was The Lost Ship). Perhaps the story is a little to long and complicated - but hopefully still enjoyable. I'm looking forward to your comments about style, logic of the story or the portraits – please do scrutinize the story. Regards, Heidel

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Part One
Prolog: A broken vow
The needle-marks itched. Leery found it difficult not to scratch his arms. It had taken the doctor most of the morning to vaccinate him against the known regional diseases and a few very exotic ones in preparation for the rescue mission.
A long list of do's and don't's had been iteriated by the security officer who'd accompanied him the whole time. Leery hadn't listened most of the time. Instead he'd had his thoughts on the mission, and the necessary steps to success.
Another wave of itching brought him back to the present. He stiffled a reflex to scratch his arms, but the halfway motion attracted the attention of the briefing officer who were talking to the assembled group of military pilots by the large overhead screen.
”Yes, freight-captain Leery?”
”Sir, all I need to know is where on the planet you recon Rinna Diskmaskin went down – with that and a decent ground vehicle, I'll find her.” The officer put out his laser-pointer with a sigh and stod at ease with both hands behind his back.

”Well, Leery. This is a military operation and you're a civilian - invited to join because you're the one who happens to know miss Diskmaskins modus operandi the best. Hopefully that knowledge will help us to locate and efficiently get her out of what-ever hole she's in. Until we touch down on any surface, you can consider yourself - what is it you freighters say - as "payload", yes?" His speech was greeted by approving murmors and outright laughter from the military men around Leery.
Leery accepted the scolding with a shrug, he didn't want to step up the eternal bickering between soldiers and freighters by giving air to any of the dozens of menial jokes about military pilots that passed through his head. It wasn't going to help him get closer to the goal.

The beginning
He'd known he'd better keep himself in close check ever since he accepted to join the rescue operation a week and a half ago. Two officers had approached him at the local space bar. It was his favourite down-run hole-in-the-wall place within three systems radius so it wasn't difficult to know where to look for him.
The two men had pulled out their id-cards, but he'd already known they were military intelligence officers - they both looked lost in the dimly lit bar.
As soon as one of the started to speak. Leery silenced him by raising a hand. ”I've taken a holy vow - in the name of more gods and goddesses than I'll care to remember - to never, ever work for the military again. Especially not Rinna Diskmaskin. Cross my heart, hope to die, et cetera.”

A most sensible attitude. Every single time he'd worked for the military he'd received the short end of the stick. The last time he'd put his life on the line for a pilot and a group of top scientist on a supposedly wrecked ship on the wrong side of the Voinian border. Needless to say things wasn't a simple as they looked. Instead Leery had found himself as the bait in a trap that made it possible for the UE military to breach the standstill at the border and invade Voinian space. Oh, sure he'd been handsomly paid and got his ship refitted, but it still hurt that he'd been set up and taken for a ride by Diskmaskin. He'd gone out on a limb to help a stranded pilot, only to find that it all was a lie to serve the military needs.
So this time he was determined not to agree to anything, no matter what the military offered – or threatended with.

”That's the reason for us beeing here. Rinna Diskmaskin is gone missing. We need your help to rescue her,” said one of the men, raising his voice over the deafening beat of muzak. ”We understand that you've been workning with her on several occasions. You're actually the one who's been workning the most with her, since her entire staff went missing with her.”
It took a few moments for the words to sink in. Leery stared unseeing at the videoscreens where newscasters moved their mouths soundlessly about the latest news. They looked like goldfish gasping for air.
The man went on: ”Diskmaskin and her staff made a tactical relocation to another station one week ago. Their flightplans were keep in outmost secrecy, but we fear that subversive elements may have gotten access to them. The journey was made in total radio silence for security reasons, so we do not know what happened. Not even an coded SOS has been received. We gather that they had been intercepted and attacked en route.”

The other man continued: "You may not be aware of it, but Rinna Diskmaskin is the person responsible for UE's military operations along the Voinian border. It's her decisions that's stopped the Voininan avancement and recently led to our counterstrike – and, I must say – stunning success.” He drew a breath of air and concluded: ”She is the most important military officer right now. She must be saved.”
Leerys mind was moving slowly around the information. The news persons on the screen was replaced by colorful commercials. He kept looking, until the nagging thoughts came into focus.
”Why didn't they have an escort? How could the entire staff be permitted to travel all on one ship? Why haven't you already rescued them, it's been a week you say?”

Two pairs of military eyes met and the most senior of the men shook his head. ”That's information we can't divulge at the present location. If you would like to step outside, we have a ground transport waiting where we could tell you more.”

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Part Two
The real story
When they waited in the security corridor for the doors behind them to close, and the doors to the outside to open, Leery still was pondering if it was a good move to accompany the men. The military had enough resources and equipment to find even the smallest grain of sand in any given solar system. They didn't need him or his skills. Neither did they need to tell him anything about Diskmaskins disappearance. That's exactly why he found a cold knot in his stomach. If the military had to acquire the help of an civilian, then they had a real crisis on their hands.

Seated in the ground vehicle parked outside the bar, one of the men gave him the lowdown of the situation. ”Rinna Diskmaskin and her staff of the scientific intelligence section were in direct violation of military procedures when they regrouped without escort. But they had a extreme situation on their hands.” He saw the frown on Leerys face and lauched an explanation. ”Rinna Diskmaskin promoted a rather aggressive policy along the Voinian border. It wasn't always a policy that the high-rankers enjoyed. I don't know how familiar you are with the internal politics of UE military, but the military command has taken a low stance on the border issue. Their line is that we have to build strenght before taking action. But Diskmaskin is on another track and has on several accounts she has forced their hands to go forward - as the incident you participated in.”

Leery didn't really enjoy to hear about his close shave with death referred to as an incident, but he understod Diskmaskins skillfull scheming to get the slow moving military machinery on the march.
The man returned to his briefing. ”After her latest stunt, she and her entire staff were in effect confined to house arrest. They were prohibited to shift base, and not to be consulted in any military matter. As you probably understand, this was not well received by Diskmaskin. Neither by officers who shared her strategical and tactical inclinations.”
Leery got the impression that the present officers counted themselves to that group.
”So, to cut the story a little shorter – there was an unfortunate development in an border issue, the present officers turned to Diskmaskin, in spite of the official ban, to resolve the situation. As a result Diskmaskin and her staff broke confinement to join the fighting forces by the border. During the journey, they disappeared.”
”So that explains why they didn't have any escort. And why the military haven't rescued them yet,” Leery felt the bile rise as he concluded the train of thoughts.

”Yes. It took a while to realize that they were missing. They did travel in radio silence, but mostly not to be noticed by UE forces and put back in confinement. So it took some time for the officers who requested help to understand that Diskmaskin were missing. Then it took some more time to report the disappearance without exposing any of the involved persons.” He shrugged. ”We have to protect our hides. It's no use to degrade ourselves if Diskmaskin is found dead or is missing for good. If we find her - which we sincerely hope - then we have to take our punishment later. But until then, we're trying to act in a shroud of darkness.”

The old motto for the military intelligence service. Now Leery knew with certainty who he had dealings with.
”The picture is further complicated by the fact that we do not know what route they choose. We have no idea about what system they could be located in. But we hope to have a good guess ready soon.” It was the younger man who spoke up. ”Since we haven't heard any SOS-signal, the ship hasn't been destroyed or borded. We have high hopes for finding them alive. The military has put together official rescue parties to scrutinize the possible systems, but it's a halfhearthed initiative. Our branch has been granted to send out one unit. We intend to find Diskmaskin and bring her home. We intend to do that no matter if she's dead or alive. You're our best hope to find her. You know her reasoning and her tactical disposition. You are our best shot. So please help us find Rinna Diskmaskin.”
Leery understod all to well why they were keen on finding her. If the intelligence branch could get to Diskmaskin, they had a chance to cook together a cover story to save the hides of the involved officers. The eagerness to save Diskmaskin was probably only a side effect of this greater desire.

He lost himself in thoughts about her. Three times over the years he'd been lured into danger by her, that was too many. Beeing a freigh-captain wasn't a safe work even in the best of times. But running errands for the military made the situation exponentially worse. Measured in hours they hadn't met for more time over the years than a prolonged loading sequence at a backwater spacestation would take.
They could hardly been called friends, not even aquaintences. He had cursed her name several times during the long dark flights in her service. He loathed her methods of getting him to work for her. But ever so often he had seen her dark gleaming eyes and heard the sound of her voice when he slumbered by the controls of the ship.
The two men awaited his return from the land of thoughts. They managed to have both a worried and a hopeful look on their faces. Either that or it was a mask of distaste to be forced to ask an civilian for help.

Leery sighed. ”Alright. I'll help you find Diskmaskin. But I don't know what I can do to help, really. But I have one condition. If – when – we find her I want to get one hour undisturbed with her. I want to give her my piece of mind about her methods,” he explained when the military men frowned in surprise.

They had agreed and Leery found himself transported to a military scout ship at the docks. Both men had followed him aboard and strapped themselves in behind the pilot. Obviously the take off was prepared because not long after their arrival, the pilot concluded the checklist and received go-codes for an outbound sector.
When the ship floated out from the station and accelerated to get away from system's center, Leery suddenly remebered that they hadn't toasted for godspeed for the journey. He opened his mouth to say the words out loud so that they wouldn't start the mission with a bad omen, but he got pushed against the chair when the ship jumped from system so not a single syllable was uttered.

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Part Three
The rescue plan
A mid-space rendevouz with a military troop ship brought Leery into the midst of a frantic rescue-operation. He was immediately escorted to an officers sleeping alcove. It was more of a room than the privates sleeping quarters, but still cramped with a low ceiling.
Introductions were made with a colonel Skar Brade. He was the one in command of the ship, he also seemed to be ill at ease.
”I gather that you was briefed on your way here. So I'll just get you up to mark about the latest developments. As far as we know, Rinna Diskmaskin and her crew, disconnected the communication systems before launch to be able to travel in radio silence. At the same time they happened to disrupt the distress-system and our only possibility to pinpoint their location at close range. The SOS-system is separated and was probably not affected by their tinkering. None of the other rescue parties have located the missing ship. We've all been workning along the theory that the ship was attacked by a small ship, of pirate-type, but managed to fend of the attack. Since we've not received any SOS-signal, the ship doesn't seem to be destroyed. That's why we pretty certain that they're alive.”

So far Leery hadn't heard any news. The both officers had put their own spin on different scenarios of the Diskmaskin-dissappearance during the trip. Colonel Brade put his hands together and leaned forward on the small desk. His face was put in a shadow when he leaned out off the light cone from the desk lamp. With almost a whisper he continued: ”We're working along a slightly different path of reasoning than the rest of the military branches. Yes, we too think that their ship was attacked, and that they managed to destroy the enemy. But we lean towards a scenario where the ship or at least rescue pods, has crashed on a planet.”
Brade leaned back in his chair again. Still clasping his hands at the edge of the desk, he looked at Leery. It was a million-to-one-chance that the scenario played out true, and both Leery and Brade knew it. With the vast distances in space the possibility for a wounded space craft to crash onto a planet was almost as big as the chance that a man with a gun in a dark room would shoot the **** of an fly - only guided by his hearing.

It was tricky enough to dock at space stations – and then the pilot had the help of well developed guiding systems and years of training. Not to mention the cooperation from the station crew. To make an emergency landing with a wounded ship on planet was almost impossible. Especially with a ship intended exclusively for use in zero-G-environment.
”I don't believe you.”
”Neither do most other whom I spoken to about it,” replied Brade. ”But right now it's our most plausible scenario. That's why no other search party has found them yet – they've been looking for a floating ship. Not a crashed one.”
Brade looked pleased with himself. ”And we have a good guess which planet it is, too.”
That was a change. The accompaning officers had been almost schizofrenic about the amount of possible systems to search through. Brade continued: ”We've plotted the most probable jump route. It runs through no man's land, well away from UE listening posts and surveillance pods. But still not quite on the Voinian border. It should be the most sensible course. Among those systems only a handful has planets worth the name. So, it was a simple case of elimination.”
”So, what do you need me for? Go and get her.”
”Well, it's a peculiar situation. I had prepared a few cover stories to give you a satisfying answer. But I'll tell you the truth instead. As soon as she is located, the high rankers will try take custody of her – and we'll not have time to hammer out our collective stories to protect the officers who asked for assistance in the border issue. We only have one shot at this. We need to find her fast before the other military branches get here, they're keeping their eyes on us. So we need someone who'll find Diskmaskin quickly when we've touch down at the planet. You're our blood hound, you'll sniff her out for us.”
Brade continued with a boring presentation of military tactics of ground rescue, shooting of numbers about perceived casualties after a emergency landing, statistics about how many days a person could live of rations in escape pods and other sleep inducing subjects.
”Well, we recon that there's a good chance to find at least some of the survivors alive and hopefully Rinna Diskmaskin also. But to do that, we have to fine tune our rescue operation, no slackers are accepted. I've scheduled you for an intensive physical work out, starting right now.”

With that the interview was over. Leery was escorted to a sleeping hall where he was assigned a bunk. Given the key card to a locker he was told to change to work out clothes and join the soldiers at the gym. ”It's in the high-gravity segment of the ship. Just follow the red stripes.”
Taking the elevator out to the rim from the ships center with low gravity, he felt his body grow heavier. It was unpleasant to be reminded about his low physical state.
As he stepped into the high ceiling training-room, some of the activites there stopped. Strange contraptions decorated the walls, on the floor different obstacles were assembled. Running and crawling around in the mess was sweaty men and women. They also wore work out clothes, but on their back and front their military rank was printed. Leerys suit had none insignia what so ever.
He heard a theatrical whisper from one of the closest soldiers. ”I did think it smelled strange for a while – now I know what it is. It the stink of civilians.” The comment was greeted with giggles and laughter.
”You!” One of the drill instructors had spotted Leery. ”You! Get over here!” Leery walked over to the man, extending a hand to greet him. ”I'm talking to you only because I'm ordered to do it. You're here to be put through the paces. Now, get over there and follow the other around the obstacle course. Try to keep up with the others or you'll probably be trampled and hurt - and we don't want that do we?” As the drill instructor walked away, Leery stood there, still with his hand extended. The instructors speech had been overheard by some of the privates, who s######ed pleased about the scolding.

This wasn't going to be easy. And that he was prepared for. But just how hard it was, Leery understod first when he was pulled down from one of the obstacles by a large soldier who shouted: ”On this ship we has one rule – soldiers first, civilians later”. With that he shoved Leery against the wall and passed over the obstacle.
Making his round took more time than he'd thought. When he was finished he had more cuts and bruises than ever before. Most of them inflicted by the soldiers, who in their eagerness to work out managed to crush Leery against the obstacles. Panting Leery sat down and tried to caught his breath.
”You! Get up. One more lap. Get going.” It was the drill instructor again. Leery was too tired to argue and started to his feet. Then blackness caught him and he slid into unconsciousness accompanied by the laughter of soldiers.

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Part Four
A hard days work
His fainting seemed to confirm the soldiers view of civilians as sissies. But at least the stopped trying to flatten him agains every other wall and obstacle after the incident. Probably in fear of reprimands.
Leerys days were filled with drill instructions. As every other freight captain Leery had tried to follow a strict regiment of training during travels, to combat calcium deficit of the bones and loss of muscle-tone. But as every other captain he'd not keept it up to the required level for very long. His body ached after the first few days of military training.
Together with 95 young soldiers, who formed the drop troops, Leery clawed his way through the exercises. He was both older and slower than the rest. But he tried to make it up by beeing more motivated. Usually he finished last in every excercise. The drill instructor was constantly bugging him, screaming at him.
Beeing the only civilian aboard made his days even harder. People passed him in the que to dinner, without taking notice to him. A myriad of bleak jokes about freighters and their presumed interest in rather strange activites were told in loud voices when he was present. More than once he'd been pushed around physically during the obstacle coarse-training.
After a particular strenous excercise Leery collapsed again. Lying panting on the floor he once more cursed the military, and Rinna Diskmaskin in particular, for forcing him to suffer. The drill officer was there in an instant, gloating at the sight. ”Get up, you. Get up.”
”Give up. I'm dying.” Leery panted back. ”I don't know why you do this to me. There's no way I'll accumulate anything resembling physical endurance in this short time. No, it's more possible that I'll hurt myself, and then I won't be of any use.”
”This isn't for your benefit. The purpose of the excercises are to find out where your limits are. It's better you break up here, where we can put you in sick bay, than you'll break down there were you'll be jepordizing more lives than your own.” The drill intructor walked away with a smug smile on his face and left Leery hovering on the border to unconciousness.

Target system
Later that week they jumped into their target system. From the relay station they learned that another rescue party had flown through not many days ago. Brade had made an analyzis of the previous ships flightdata that's automatically logged when entering and leaving a system. ”They wasn't here long enough to pull off an ground operation,” he concluded in an all hands broadcast. ”And no sign of Diskmaskins' ship in the data, but I'll bet they defused the flightrecorder. This is the right system. I can feel it.”

Two planets circulated in complicated paths around the double star at the center. The ship's astro physician had noted that the system probably wasn't stable enough to last for another hundred thousand years before the planets got swallowed by the stars. A comment that brought laughter from the crew. ”By then, we'll be out of here!”
The inner planet's radical path meant that it was totally scorched by the suns, constantly bathing i gamma radiation and light of a million different wavelenghts. It also was the victim for high gravitational forces. That it still held together probably meant that it had a high surface tension, perhaps thanks to iron or other metals. It wasn't even scanned for signs of life – anything dropped down on that planet sizzled and died quicker than spit in a rocket engine.
The astro physist seemed to be very intrigued by the little ball of lead (as the crew was quick to call it), but had to turn his attention to the other planet. ”A prime example of a rather stable path in an unstable system. It's further away from system center and benefits from quite a long circumferal motion. A strangeness is that the pole of the planet is pointed inward toward the suns, so you could say it's rolling along it's path. Probably the result of a age old collision with another body, perhaps even the second planet – which then became captive of this system.” He once again became fascinated by the smaller planet, but was brought back to the subject by a growling from Colonel Brade.
”Yes, as I was saying. This rolling motion means that one half of the planet has perpetual daylight, the other half total darkness. Along the equator there's a band of eternal dusk – or dawn if you like. The planet actually has an breathable oxygene atmosphere and probably also a native wildlife. No records of any human settlements have been found in our databases, neither any scientific records about ground exploration. This is as far as we know, an unwritten sheet in the book of planets.” Brade scrowled again at the scientists lyrical words and took the helm.
”OK men. This is our target planet. This is were we think that Diskmaskin and her staff crashed. We'll be in high orbit within 12 hours and will start ground surveillance at once. If – when - we find any trace of wreck or escape pod, we'll send you in. Remember that the moment we go into stationary orbit, our location will be broadcasted to listening probes and relayed to the rest of the rescue parties – that's how the system is rigged. Then we only have a matter of days before the high rankers will question our actions and other ships will pop out around us. By then we must have located Rinna Diskmaskin – or found proof of her death.”

It was a troubled sleep that found Leery that night. So many preparations, so much effort. Perhaps to no avail, the ship might already been destroyed, with no survivors. He could easily picture the frantic efforts of the pilot, trying to hold the wounded ship afloat in this system so many weeks ago. In a double star system it would be quite natural to use the enormous gravitational pull to pick up speed if the engines were damaged. Perhaps the ship was more wounded than the pilot thought, perhaps the attacker managed to fire at them again. Anyway, the ship happens to get to close to the big planet some way or another.
The friction in the atmosphere heats the shell to melting point, flushing the corridors with a devastating heatwave bringing destruction to the crew. The gravitational forces tears apart the hull, speading the wreckage over the whole planet – probably a spectacular firework to view from the ground. But a deadly spectacle if the pieces happened to be to large to burn up totally in the atmosphere. Then the viewer risked to get smothered by man-made meteors.
Leery awaked bathing in sweat, breathing heavily. The age old fear of gravity had gripped his freight-captains heart. He lay there a while, breathing, trying to relax. He put the nightmare partly down to tomorrows descent to the planet face. It was years ago since he last dropped down the gravitational well to a planet. As a freight captain he usually kept himself in zero gravity or artificial low gravity. But it didn't compare to the real thing. The knowledge that there really was an enormous mass out there pulling you towards it with a crushing determination. It made all the difference, as walking a tight-rope without the safety net. Tomorrow he'd walk the rope for the first time in many years – and that in the company with people who really disliked him.

Breakfast was a bleak affair. The talking was subdued, more than one of the young privates pushed his food around the tray. Leery instead stuffed himself as usual. One of the unexpected niceties of military service was the excellent food. It was far better than anything he ever mixed together in his own ship. They even served something that closely resembled orange juice.
”Take it easy with that. We don't want all that sprayed over us when we descent,” one of the privates shouted, when Leery took his third filling of the juice. For the first time since he embarked on the military ship, Leery found that he was slightly on top of things. So he took another filling of juice and another, just to irritate the others.
So it wasn't strange that he felt a little nauseous when it was his turn to get the vaccination shots. He was picked up by a security officer in the dining room and escorted to the sick bay.
The military personel had already been vaccinated, so it was only Leery who had to take the shots. In the waiting room, the security officer started to talk about all the things Leery had to think about when he was down there. Leery fought down an urge to yawn. The monologue was interupted when the doctor opened his door.

The doctor was a skinny man who probably never smiled. On a stainless steel platter paraded several syringes. ”Your medical records are complete and truthful?” asked the doctor when he'd checked out Leerys personal brief on the computer. Leery nodded. ”Would you please roll up your sleve, then?”
A couple of hours later he was released from the attention of the skinny man and the security officer. Dozens of needle-marks showed where he'd been punctured in the name of preventive medicine. Every shot had been accompanied by a description of what terrible illness it stopped. Leery found that he couldn't keep his attention to what the man said. Instead he had his mind on the coming mission. The doctors voice sounded in the background as a liturgie, or prayer. It was rather soothing, except for the occasional sting of a needle.
The security officer had his own liturgie. ”You'll be part of an well-trained group, and by that in relatively secure from natural hazards. But bear in mind not to get separated from the group, don't eat anything native, don't drink the water.” The rest of the advice was given to deaf ears as Leery was lost in thoughts.

He asked himself again if he made the right decision in accepting to join the rescue mission. There hadn't been any talk about money, and he hadn't asked. Since the party he was teaming up with seemed to be a renegade group inside the military organization, he was quite sure there would never be any money. So, why did he do it? He knew the answer deep down somewhere. It was so that he could stand in front of Rinna Diskmaskin once more. But this time she'd have him to thank for her life. The other times he met her, it was she who'd been triumphant and patronizing.
This time it was Leerys turn to be triumphant – but only if he found her. And found her alive. That was also a reason for him to join the forces. He'd had to be certain that he'd made everything in his powers to rescue her. He owed it to himself. The last thoughts made him shiver. ”Stop that. I can't find your veins if you bustle about like that.” The doctors voice brought him back to the present. ”So. Finished. Take care now.”

They assembled for a last briefing in the large auditorium of the ship. All the members of the rescue teams were there. Leerys arms itched. The doctor had put on some ointment to prevent swelling. ”Don't you scratch yourself now,” he'd said. Easier said than done, Leery thought before turning his attention to the briefing officer.
”You'll be wearing medium-shielded suits that's standard for exploration of inhabital planets. I think you'll like that better than the heavier full-shielded suits for toxic areas.”
”We're receiving preliminary data from our high-orbit probes. So far they show some active radio emitters, we presume it's from survivors. But we don't seem to be able to return their calls. Our signals has been unnoticed so far."

The rescue teams filed out of the room. Eight teams to sweep the whole planet. Leery had found the number quite high, he had presumed that the surveillance from high orbit would show exactly where the crashed ships were located. Skar Brade had straightened out that misconception. ”A planetary rescue is quite different than a space rescue. There's a whole lot of different variables. But most important is that military experience shows that survivors tend to be scattered over large areas and not always easy to spot from orbit.”
He'd continued talking about escape pods from larger ships could be sprinkled over an planet as craters on moon. Small groups of people was almost impossible to locate from above. The usual military approach was to scan for possible impact areas, traces of wood fires, concentrations of metal in the ground cover, other anomalies and most important – emergency radio signals from people. Then they sent down rescue teams. ”Unfortunately there's quite a few things that can appear as a wrecked pod in our scans – anything from metal ores to some old crashed surveillance satellite. And we can't ignore any potential area, even if there's no radio signals coming from it. I mean, the equipment can be broken, can't it?”
Had it been a ordinary rescue mission they could have afforded to take it easy and concentrated the efforts on a few selected areas before moving on. The slow-and-steady-tactic wouldn't work this time. Instead they'd decided to split their forces to cover as large area as possible in the shortest possible time.

The surveillance officer had filed her rapport a few minutes before. Brade had already scanned through it on his screen. It was evident that someone or something down on the planet was trying to get attention. More than a dozen of radio emitters had been located. Some of the sending standard military SOS-signals. Most of them were along the forever-dawn-equator. The metal scan along the equator showed as many possible locations of rescue pods. Putting the both graphs together washed out the most promising areas to find survivors from the ship.

The eight rescue teams had already been strapped into their vessels and left the mother ship. For the present they were assembled in free fall along the equator, awaiting orders. Brade pondered were to send the teams. There was to many possible areas to net them all in one go.
Giving his orders to command center, he sent a small prayer that they had luck on their side and found Rinna Diskmaskin unharmed at one of the selected areas. It would take days to comb through all the possible crash sites – and within days they would have company from the other military branches. Unwanted company in this case. Already had their ships automatic location system beamed a signal that they were in stationary orbit around a planet. A sure give-away that they had something going.

With to little time on their side, all they could rely on was luck. And luck was scarce in this business, as Brade knew all to well.

(To be contiuned)

(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 06-19-2001).)

Excellant story. It wasn't too long, great details. Can't wait to hear more.

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"No one will ever silence the voices of Obain"
-Admiral K. Ackgott at the moment of execution by Gaitori terrorists

very good...BTW, how did you get +7 karma in 32 posts?

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"Don't piss me off because my revenge is brutal. It won't come instantly, but when it does, it will be a deep emotional wound that never heals, for I am Dark Templar, Lord of Vengeance"
Neo Ice of Neo World - 118:3:2 (EVA)(osX)(INFINITY)
(url="http://"http://pub42.ezboard.com/benderswebboard")My EzBoard(/url) (Looking For Mods)

Wow, it's been so long since i submited this story that I almost didn't remember it myself.

jbcwill - thanks. I too enjoy detailed stories, it brings life to the action.

Dark Templar - well, it's a secret... But if you want to know it, take a look at the Cythera Chronicles Board.

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Nice. Lacked some action though, I think. Perhaps in the next chapters?

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rUmbler
Confusion reigns. Please advice.

no message, just testing something out so Ifigured i do it here.

nice story though.

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Kuji kix the habbit for real.
To cease smoking is the easiest thing I ever did. I ought to know because I've done it a thousand times.
-Mark Twain