May. 26th, 2011

Part 4. While I have a general direction, I'm not sure how long it will take me to get there. Also, not a lot of action in this one, which is going to happen if I'm only writing 1000 words. Sorry.

It turned out Swami did have a plan for getting us out of the wrecked prison capsule. The cargo ship dropped us only a few minutes out of Tierra Salvador, giving me a few bad moments, and then an inbound cargo ship of the same kind picked us up. By the time the police caught up to the _Capstan_, they found no trace of us and a perfectly legitimate-looking glitch in the navigation computer. As far as the authorities were concerned, we were dead and off the radar with no suspicion of foul play.

The bay of the new cargo ship pressurized itself, and we all crawled out of the capsule remains. Half the Chulkos had decompression sickness, and one who had failed to submerge his head had blood pooling in his ears, but me and Lopez and Grabsy were all okay.

Also in the bay were several lockers and a small ship. The lockers held clothing, food and some self-inflating furniture. That Swami – he thinks of everything. The ship was a grubby pan-environmental dropship, a Cricket, built for inserting geologists into exotic-atmosphere planets. It didn't have any guns but it was fast and functional, and all identifying marks had been removed. It was covered with a thin layer of grey mud.

"I dub thee the _USS_Wash_Me_," Lopez proclaimed, writing the name on the side of the craft.
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September 2012

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