We want to keep a low profile , so let’s head for Hector-Prime,” you say. “Besides, these types of places usually have the low-down on the most important things happening...maybe we could get some valuable Intel.”
Following your orders, Rodgers quickly punches in the coordinates and fires up the engines. “Hold on everyone...here we go...” with that the ship smoothly transitions to warp speed.
“Approaching Hector-Prime,” Rodgers says. “Initiating warp drive shut down,” he continues, focussing on the controls in front of him.
Seconds later, the galaxy containing Hector-Prime flashes into view. The ship zooms in on a green planet, the gravity regulator of the ship making the approach and stop effortless.
“Computer,” you say, “planet statistics please.”
“Planet: Hector-Prime,” the computer complies.
“Atmosphere composition: 78.91% nitrogen, 21.85% oxygen, 0.83% argon, 0.38% carbon dioxide, remainder – trace elements. Atmosphere, breathable.
Temperature: 25 to 35 degrees Celsius.
Climate: high rainfall, humidity 80%
Geology: Sand consisting of Silica, Quartz and limestone with high levels of organic deposits
Vegetation: Tropical – Triple canopy jungle
Life: Various life forms detected
Structures: Five clusters of structures detected ranging from very small to small.”
“Rodgers, take us to the largest cluster of structures”, you instruct. “We’ll circle and check out the environment before we disengage the ship’s cloak.”
Rodgers gently steers the ship forward and prepares to enter the atmosphere. Slipping into a planet’s atmosphere with a cloaked ship is usually pointless, since entry literally causes the ship to catch fire and leaves a nice trail of smoke across the horizon. However, many times it is misinterpreted as a comet or debris from space. In addition to this, the moment the heat of entry wears off, the ship is invisible again.
Tearing into the atmosphere, the cockpit window turns red from flames licking up from outside. The ship shakes and rumbles…and then it is over.
Below, the green landscape rolls by. Thick jungle covers the planet’s surface.
“Any info on this community we’re approaching”, you ask Rodgers.
“It’s called Scorpio”, Rodgers starts. “Population approximately one-thousand permanent residents. Mostly small time merchants and traders. A couple of bars…a small star port. Not much more to say. Apparently it is frequented by drug dealers since there is a type of plant they cultivate here that can be processed to produce a drug commonly known as Silk. With the war raging on, nobody has the resources for law enforcement in a distant planet such as this.”
“Our chances to get Pylene”, you ask.
“Not that good”, Rodgers answers. “Obviously the drug dealers and locals have to refuel somewhere, but it’s usually through local contacts or they fuel up before coming here…so we’ll have to see if we can get lucky.”
“How many units of Pylene do we need”, you ask.
“Our maximum capacity is thirty tons…I’d say we take as much as we can, because we don’t know when we can fill up again”, Rodgers replies.
With that, Rodgers pulls the ship in a tight left turn. “Lady and gentlemen, I give to you Scorpio”, he says.
Looking left you see a mushroom-like structure tower out above the jungle. The mushroom, you recognise, is a man-made platform approximately a thousand yards in circumference with a variety of structures clustered on it.
To one side, you recognise a moderate star port. Rodgers continues the tight turn, making the platform circle below you.
“Scan for any signals of communication”, you say, still scanning the structures.
“Only picking up local entertainment stations and low-end encrypted signals…probably the druggies placing another order…definitely no Guhl”, Rodgers responds quickly.
“All right”, you say. “Take us out so that we can de-cloak without being spotted, and then bring us back for a landing.”
Five minutes later, the Panther circles the landing pad.
“Scorpio air traffic control, this is unregistered merchant ship, permission to land”, Rodgers lies over his microphone.
“Ok then”, he says pushing the controls forward for a landing.
“Did they say something”, you ask not having heard a reply.
“Nope…I think it’s safe to assume there is no air traffic control facility here.”
Having selected an open launch pad, your ship hangs in a slowly descending hover until it touches down,
“Ok”, you start. “I’m going to do a quick recon of the area. Buck, I want you to stay here and be ready if we need to do a quick lift-off or if we need a pickup. Stephanie, you also stay here. A medical officer is too valuable at this stage of the game to put in the line of fire.”
Looking at Spengler and Spencer, you’re not sure which one to take with you on your recon. You are certain that you will need a pair of eyes to watch your back, but you also want to leave a security force on the ship, and Spengler packs a mean punch.
Who will you take with you?
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