Thrill of the rescue part II
Captains Log — 4
— The following Data excerpt was salvaged from a large cluster of floating debris and damaged satellites in the outer reaches of the unmapped and unruly High Risk Zone. In accordance with MUD Governance Code #32334, this information is highly classified. –
Log ID: 260194
Captains Log: 004
Enlisted Days: 20
ATLAS payload: 1390
Ship: VZUS Opod
Consumed Units Food: 74,397 Toolkit:48,223 Fuel: 58,549 Ammo: 34,436
Captains log: It is unspoken but widely known among starship captains that words like ‘miracle’ or ‘fate’ have no place in a captains log. We prefer a sure thing, or nothing at all.
As we neared the distressed Packlite’s coordinates, it occurred to me that we had traversed through the perilous outer reaches of the Medium Risk Zone for four days without a scratch on our vessel, nor a dent in the crew’s determination. This was something of a wonder.
While they had followed orders unwaveringly, I knew it wasn’t optimism that drove the crew to be steadfast. As my old comrade Lermnis Nader reminded us yesterday, and the day before: this close to the HRZ, pirates routinely stripped marooned vessels for anything from scrap to slaves, and there was every chance the stranded Packlite and its crew had become space fodder, or worse. Dr. Valster added that her roaming drone had found no new traces of data since its last transmission weeks ago, and its quickly diminishing fuel stores meant it wouldn’t serve as our scout for much longer.
Despite these foreboding signs, the Shinobi voyaged onward, her grim-faced crew and captain quietly eager to find out if their luck had somehow been extended to the crew of the Packlite.
As we finally approached the old cargo vessel, Foreman Derranis swore and sighed loudly. There were no lights blinking from the Packlite’s hull nor within the ship, and long arching cracks webbed across the cockpit window. Several head-sized holes in the rear thrusters looked as though they had been made by something sinister, and as was my habit, I searched the observation deck for anything our sensors might not have picked up. Other than the lone Packlite, I could just make out smutterings of debris that looked like pieces of another wrecked vessel, its innards split and strewn in floating heaps of metal. I couldn’t help but wonder if Captain Tusk’s Busan had made it here first.
Corporal Cort scanned the ship hastily for a heat signal and when she found none, she shook her head with a sadness I didn’t know the proud recruit would let show. I kept my face stony, like a captain ought to, though I knew I should try to find something to say to the crew, some way to bring them solace after a fruitless journey.
As the Shinobi sat hovering before the crewless Packlite, and her captain lost in thought, we were once again surprised with unexpected data.
Dr. Valster ran from the bridge to bring us the news — she had retrieved her savvy little drone for refuelling, only to discover it had traced another distress call, from nearby Tellus.
She grinned when she told us that the data shared the same Crew ID as the distress signal we had received from the Packlite. She also mentioned, however, that the signal itself was being emitted by what appeared to be a Calico Evac cryostatic escape pod.
These pods were designed with a singular purpose — to extract and suspend life, however it was found. Perhaps the scrap metal that floated near the Packlite belonged to a missing Calico? Lermnis gave me a look that asked the same question. Stranger still, the doctor told us that this second distress call had been encrypted so that only Valster’s drone could pick up its signal.
We had come this far and could not ignore the new signal — the crew agreed wordlessly and prepared to set an immediate course for Tellus.
We had passed the flatland, moon-sized planet less than a day ago, though it took us less than half that time to double back with the tinkering Rune Derranis had done to our warp drive. Tellus’ wan, slightly pink exosphere ebbed beneath the light from the nearest star, which shone from astern. As we entered the atmosphere, we found traffic to be as sparse as the cloud-cover.
The occasional rusty Packlite careened by, entering or exiting Tellus with a small haul of cargo and business of its own. Faction laws were loose here, so close to the HRZ, and it felt strange to bypass the usual MUD Planetary Customs Code of Entry — just a sizeable ATLAS transfer to the Transit Agent was all it took to buy us our entry-anonymity. There was always a sense of enease entering a planet through bribery, one always has the distinct feeling that they a flying wing-wing alongside all manner of criminals.
The foreman pointed out a pair of sleek Pearce X5s slinking by starboard side. The two fighters spiralled toward a black speck that was likely a spaceport, and Lermnis led the Shinobi steadily in the same direction.
The distress call from the Calico escape pod was triangulated at only thirty leagues west of Strowineja Starport, a little trade-haven and drink-den that we had followed the X5s to. Despite Cort’s insistence that it could be done, it would be foolish to land the Shinobi too close to the escape pod, so a stealthy, measured approach from the starport seemed most viable. I had to remind the corporal that rescue is an easy front for an ambush.
Though our recent data haul had been all but sizable, a recent (and monumental) hike in ATLAS’ value had made our pockets slightly fatter, so I had foreman Derranis find us a means of more… subtle transport.
He returned later from the local scrap shipyard with a scowl and two rugged Fimbul Airbikes. They were once a sharp racing-blue, I supposed, though the wind and dirt had carved them down to rust. I asked the foreman if they worked, and he spat and said ‘just’. His long winded negotiations with the shipyard tradesman had left Derranis more than salty. He complained that the Airbikes were third-hand and rickety, the tradesman having bought them from a grounded Calico Evac a month ago. I asked him why the high price, he just rolled his eyes and muttered something about an enhanced power supply. They weren’t as quiet as he’d hoped, he said, but if I gave him an hour, he would have them sending whirlwinds across the Tellus plains. I told him it couldn’t wait, to hurry.
Though I knew the crew would resist, I insisted upon being one of the two-man rescue team. A captain should stay with his ship, but I would try to limit the danger my crew faced, even at the cost of their captain. That, and I suspected Captain Jurinia Tusk had some kind of role in all of this — the appearance of her Busan in the data was an unlikely coincidence. The crew, save for Lermnis, knew nothing of Tusk’s history, and though I was tempted to bring him with me, I thought it wiser to leave Nader and his experience behind with the Shinobi.
Corporal Cort drew the short straw, though I believe she is excited to prove herself. I have grown to admire the recruits enthusiasm, and I am grateful for her military and reconnaissance knowledge, untested or otherwise. As soon as the Airbikes are mobile, we head west toward the source of the distress call.
