Out of the Frying Pan: Landing
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Charles C
Feb 7, 2011, 4:40:01 PM2/7/11
to startrek...@googlegroups.com
[The Eastern Coast of Australia, Earth]
Tank hit the ground with a bone shattering thud; jumping from a moving shuttle wasn’t something you wanted to do every day at any speed. Training and experience helped of course, and the colonel rolled easily and came up into a crouch dropping his tactical sight over his right eye and bringing his phaser rifle to his shoulder.
Suddenly Tank was forced to dive for cover as one of the two remaining shuttles that Bob was contending with streaked by laying down a withering blanket of phaser fire on the landing site where seconds before Tank had been evaluating his situation.
Evaluation complete, it was time to move. A moment later he had recovered his duffel and slung it across his back after securing a few essential pieces onto his person.
Falling into an easy lope, Tank began making his way towards the crash sight marked on his tricorder display. Just over two kilometers away, it was an easy jog across gentle terrain. As he neared smoking wreckage and burnt and cratered ground, Tank slowed to a creep and approached the hulk of the downed transport quietly.
Listening for a few moments for any sounds beyond the crackling of energy discharge and the roar of a few small fires in the area, Tank was satisfied with his visual inspection that no one was moving through the crash site. He began moving forward towards the shuttle, remarkably intact if badly damaged and clearly on fire as the suppression systems had failed or been overwhelmed.
Quickly making a brief change to his tactical display he cleared the standard tertiary overlay of heat sensitive readings, they would be useless with random fires and components discharging, all they would do is muddle his already obscured vision. The smoke and char of the crash site was difficult to navigate silently through, for a moment Tank wished he had been able to find a mask to filter out this hazardous environment.
You can’t be prepared for everything, he thought to himself.
Clearing the general area Tank approached the small hulk directly, the hatch torn away from the body of the craft. Peaking into the hazy darkness of the inside of the shuttle Tank activated the lamp on his rifle and moved into the crashed shuttlecraft.
It seemed that those boys up in the shuttles hadn’t come down yet, probably weren’t able to find a chance to lower their shields for transport while Bob was out pestering them. They’d have to land some distance out and huff it in as Tank had; so he had to make this quick.
“Lieutenant Krezek?” He said in a whispered voice, eliciting no response.
He moved forward until he got to the pilot’s chair, sitting limply and clearly dead was a civilian shuttle pilot. The nose of the shuttle was fully buried under dirt and debris, the view completely obscured. Confirming the man’s lack of vitals with a quick tricorder scan, Tank noted the DNA and identity check of the man before placing a small charge under his seat.
So far the people who were after Krezek, and those before who had taken Tank himself hostage, weren’t playing by any rules; it was time to return that favor. After noting that all power was down and that the entire computer had been completely corrupted Tank decided to leave a present for his friends.
Activating an infrared tripwire matrix and angling it across a few meters inside of the only access point left to the shuttle, he carefully backed out of the shuttle. This way, one or two people would hopefully be drawn in, to at least double check the pilot and logs, and they wouldn’t have a chance to come after him.
It seemed obvious to Tank as he began to exit the shuttle that whoever else had been in this transport had survived and fled on foot. It was smart, because while rescue would generally start a search at the crash site as Tank had, there was no guarantee that those who had shot them down wouldn’t find them first.
His check of the site had already concluded that there weren’t any obvious signs of flight, so Tank checked quickly again and then had to rely on his gut; the southern tree line was closest. His tricorder said there were low mountains beyond that. It would be as good as place he could find to fort up if you were on the run.
Setting a few other final charges, remote synced to start a timed detonation pattern when the tripwire in the shuttle was activated, Tank began to jog towards the treeline as he used a trick he’d picked up in the mountains of Raeya III. Activating a few specialty routines on his tricorder he was reasonably sure that his bio-signs could be masked at any long distance.
The ships overhead wouldn’t be able to snag him, and hopefully if he kept ahead of anyone on the ground they wouldn’t be able to track him that way either. It was the kind of dirty trick that reset the proverbial clock on military training regarding tracking someone. They’d have to slow down and check for signs of his passing, and Tank had been trained and had many experiences with people trying to find and kill him. Alone, on the ground, this was his type of battlefield.
As he set out Tank could only hope that Krezek had survived this crash and that he would be the one to get to him first.
To Be Continued...
Colonel Jean “Tank” Chandler
--Tank hit the ground with a bone shattering thud; jumping from a moving shuttle wasn’t something you wanted to do every day at any speed. Training and experience helped of course, and the colonel rolled easily and came up into a crouch dropping his tactical sight over his right eye and bringing his phaser rifle to his shoulder.
Suddenly Tank was forced to dive for cover as one of the two remaining shuttles that Bob was contending with streaked by laying down a withering blanket of phaser fire on the landing site where seconds before Tank had been evaluating his situation.
Evaluation complete, it was time to move. A moment later he had recovered his duffel and slung it across his back after securing a few essential pieces onto his person.
Falling into an easy lope, Tank began making his way towards the crash sight marked on his tricorder display. Just over two kilometers away, it was an easy jog across gentle terrain. As he neared smoking wreckage and burnt and cratered ground, Tank slowed to a creep and approached the hulk of the downed transport quietly.
Listening for a few moments for any sounds beyond the crackling of energy discharge and the roar of a few small fires in the area, Tank was satisfied with his visual inspection that no one was moving through the crash site. He began moving forward towards the shuttle, remarkably intact if badly damaged and clearly on fire as the suppression systems had failed or been overwhelmed.
Quickly making a brief change to his tactical display he cleared the standard tertiary overlay of heat sensitive readings, they would be useless with random fires and components discharging, all they would do is muddle his already obscured vision. The smoke and char of the crash site was difficult to navigate silently through, for a moment Tank wished he had been able to find a mask to filter out this hazardous environment.
You can’t be prepared for everything, he thought to himself.
Clearing the general area Tank approached the small hulk directly, the hatch torn away from the body of the craft. Peaking into the hazy darkness of the inside of the shuttle Tank activated the lamp on his rifle and moved into the crashed shuttlecraft.
It seemed that those boys up in the shuttles hadn’t come down yet, probably weren’t able to find a chance to lower their shields for transport while Bob was out pestering them. They’d have to land some distance out and huff it in as Tank had; so he had to make this quick.
“Lieutenant Krezek?” He said in a whispered voice, eliciting no response.
He moved forward until he got to the pilot’s chair, sitting limply and clearly dead was a civilian shuttle pilot. The nose of the shuttle was fully buried under dirt and debris, the view completely obscured. Confirming the man’s lack of vitals with a quick tricorder scan, Tank noted the DNA and identity check of the man before placing a small charge under his seat.
So far the people who were after Krezek, and those before who had taken Tank himself hostage, weren’t playing by any rules; it was time to return that favor. After noting that all power was down and that the entire computer had been completely corrupted Tank decided to leave a present for his friends.
Activating an infrared tripwire matrix and angling it across a few meters inside of the only access point left to the shuttle, he carefully backed out of the shuttle. This way, one or two people would hopefully be drawn in, to at least double check the pilot and logs, and they wouldn’t have a chance to come after him.
It seemed obvious to Tank as he began to exit the shuttle that whoever else had been in this transport had survived and fled on foot. It was smart, because while rescue would generally start a search at the crash site as Tank had, there was no guarantee that those who had shot them down wouldn’t find them first.
His check of the site had already concluded that there weren’t any obvious signs of flight, so Tank checked quickly again and then had to rely on his gut; the southern tree line was closest. His tricorder said there were low mountains beyond that. It would be as good as place he could find to fort up if you were on the run.
Setting a few other final charges, remote synced to start a timed detonation pattern when the tripwire in the shuttle was activated, Tank began to jog towards the treeline as he used a trick he’d picked up in the mountains of Raeya III. Activating a few specialty routines on his tricorder he was reasonably sure that his bio-signs could be masked at any long distance.
The ships overhead wouldn’t be able to snag him, and hopefully if he kept ahead of anyone on the ground they wouldn’t be able to track him that way either. It was the kind of dirty trick that reset the proverbial clock on military training regarding tracking someone. They’d have to slow down and check for signs of his passing, and Tank had been trained and had many experiences with people trying to find and kill him. Alone, on the ground, this was his type of battlefield.
As he set out Tank could only hope that Krezek had survived this crash and that he would be the one to get to him first.
To Be Continued...
Colonel Jean “Tank” Chandler
Charles E. L. Cadwallader
"Aut viam inveniam aut faciam" - "I will either find a way or make one"
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