Ensign Braya - There's Sand In My Boots

[Braya of Clan Ralnek]

((Near Taammir’s Depot, Unknown Planet))

The trio kept moving toward the crest of the massive dune. Each step felt more arduous than the last, but Braya consoled herself that the trek was nearly done. That, however, meant only that the real challenge was about to begin. 

Adyr: Remember anything we can use on our approach?

Braya: Never saw anythin’ comin’ or goin’. Just the main hangar and the scrapyard. As for what’s workin’, or closest thing to workin’, I couldn’t say.

Tanner: It doesn’t have to be perfect, just needs to manage lift off.

Braya: ::Drinking the last sip from her jug:: Well, it won’t be nothin’ near close to ‘perfect’. That much I know for sure. 

Adyr: You at least remember kind of what it's set out like. Where would be the first best place to look?

Braya: ‘Fraid first place to look ain’t our first problem. There’s a fence ‘round the scrapyard, which is full of old parts and wrecks. Not sure any of it is worth lookin’ at. Plenty of places to hide, though, once we’re past the fence. The yard surrounds two hangars. 

Tanner: Lets just hope it’s not a busy day.

Adyr: You think there might be a ship there big enough to do what we're looking to do?

Braya: If there is, it’ll be in one of the two hangar bays. There’s one on the north side of the depot, another on the south. I couldn’t get a good look in ‘em on a flyby. 

Tanner: It’s my worry I guess, that we might need more than one.

Adyr: Am I seeing things?

Jackson noticed it also, but didn’t know what to make of it.

Tanner: I’m definitely seeing it too.

Stopping in her tracks, Braya shielded her eyes with a hand and peered curiously at the disturbance. Sand seemed to be lifting up from the ground in irregular beats. Try as she might, she could not spot any source of the movement. 

Braya: ::Flipping open her tricorder:: Some kinda’ sandstorm, maybe?

Adyr: Responses?

Tanner: Is this just some sort of pressure differential?

Braya: ::Banging the tricorder housing with her palm:: A security measure, maybe? I got no biosigns. No significant weather system. But this thing’s half clogged up with grit. I wouldn’t put all my faith in it. Wait. The hell is that?

Adyr: Response

Tanner: A ship. I assume that’s where we’re heading.

Braya: ::Tapping the tricorder controls:: Tryin’ t’scramble our lifesigns. No way to be sure it’s workin’, though. Hopefully no one’s lookin’ out a window. 

Adyr: Response

Rising from the depot, the small ship made a half turn away from the three as its pitch increased, the engine glow difficult to make out against the brightness of the mid-afternoon sky. 

Braya: That ain’t no pleasure craft. Not long range, n’either, so she won’t go far. Wouldn’t want to be caught out in the open, if she circles back and spots us.

Adyr/Tanner: Response?

Flipping the tricorder closed and replacing it on her belt, Braya nodded at the order and crested the dune, heading for the next and the depot just beyond. The oddly-behaving sand still stood in their way, and her damaged tricorder's scans hadn’t made heads nor tails of it. Sweat-soaked, uneasy, and impatient, Braya figured the best way forward was through.  

Braya: It’s a long way ‘round, Commander. And that ship could come back any time. 

Adyr/Tanner: Response?   

TAGS/TBC

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Ensign Braya of Clan Ralnek

HCO

USS Eagle

E240205B13