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Artwork © Geoffrey Senior |
Leaning back and shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath and exhale slowly as your
small craft rockets into the atmosphere, the g-force momentarily pinning you against the
seat. It will definitely feel good to get back home after so much time away, and you allow
yourself to briefly daydream about the first thing you might do once you return. A nice
glass of wine? A refreshing hike in the cool mountains? Or, (like last time), a dip in the
ocean? The idea seems almost dreamlike, given how much time you've just spent on the
dry and dusty speck of a world known only as Lamba AX575 on most star charts. But
this has been your life for the past six months - gather, test, and record various data: soil
(rich); atmosphere (stable); meteorology (moderately variable); flora (little); fauna (just
about none) and various other details. Some of this you've transmitted back to
headquarters, but much has been collected by physical samples which are now stored in
your craft's climate controlled hold. The place is habitable, although bleak; but this is of
secondary importance- what's going to make your superiors back at the Robards-Xuang
Corporation very happy is that your initial hunch was correct; the place is chalk-full of
precious metals and Stromantium, the oil-like substance which makes high speed space
travel possible. A mining colony can be set up within less than a year's time if the final
tests verify your conclusions.
But that's neither here nor there to you. You've got a two month journey back to the
mother ship to make (most of which will be spent in suspended animation). From there,
once you're revived and physically recovered, you'll be aiding the on-board scientists in
organizing the data you've collected and preparing the final reports for corporate
headquarters, located in a nearby quadrant of the galaxy. Then, and only then, will you be
released for some well deserved time off. This kind of an assignment usually warrants at
least a full year of compensatory vacation (not to mention a rather sizable bonus for
having found such a promising location). You can almost feel the ocean water lapping at
your toes...
Your daydreams are cut short by the insistent beeping of the console. A communication
is coming in from (you scan the monitor) ... Resnick. You blink and read the name again:
Commander Resnick, the top officer from your destination ship. You frown. It was just
this morning that you briefed the ship on your status and return. And you're but one of a
handful of scientists scattered around the galaxy that will shortly be reporting back. It
must be something extraordinary for him to be contacting you in this manner. Surely
there hasn't been a last minute change in plans? An extension of service? You chide
yourself. More than likely, it's simply a procedural update. Nothing that should take too
long...
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