t was a large, oblong structure. A fully functional spacecraft designed for interplanetary travel of almost unimaginable distances. The very front of the craft was flat, shielded by heavy armour which clad the frame in a vice like grip. A small observation window looked out from the bridge, the only pinprick of light to escape into the cold nothingness of space. Along the top, bottom and sides of the hull was puckered by turrets and laser cannons, all deactivated for the time being, but waiting opportunity...

 

The uniform body of the craft ended at nine powerful engines, sprouting out like massive pipes from the hull, sending a long trail of exhaust out into the darkness which propelled the ship onwards. They were on low power, and gave off only the smallest propulsion available. The spacecraft was moving into orbit...

 

The planet was grey and lifeless. It was routed by an empty sea which once had ater flowing through, like blood through veins, but those veins were now dry. Only underground streams fed the sparse vegetable life, everything else was dead. If any great civilisation had existed once, it was long eroded by the winds of destruction. From the space craft it looked like a moon or any other lifeless rock. It was covered in dense, grey clouds. A forbidding place, almost a light year from any established or thriving civilisations.

 

Captain Johnson sat at his control desk and surveyed his crew. It was an unusual mission sent by the Federation, consisting mainly of military personnel the rest, scientific. Computer console lined the walls covered with glowing screens and emitting low hums of power and beeps according to the instructions that they received in their circuits.

 

A female scientist, Doctor Renshaw was Johnson's second-in-command. He detested the idea but orders were orders. She sat coolly at the desk next to his. He glanced at her for a moment, then returned to his work. He opened the report channel. The message that followed would be beamed to the nearest beacon where it would be sent to Federation Headquarters for filing - no one listened to these, so he kept it brief:

 

 

Johnson flicked the channel off and turned to his console. He had been informed that the crew were waiting for him to give the word. 'Fire retro-rockets and slow to mark one.' he ordered.

 

'Slowing to mark one,' came the immediate response from the ship's navigator. 'Gravity reading registered at two. This is now programmed in and will be compensated for accordingly.'

 

Renshaw studied her console for a moment then turned towards Johnson with concern in her voice. 'Energy readings fluctuating higher, Captain.'

 

Johnson nodded slowly, 'Maintain scan. Inform me of any that go over the safety margin.'

 

Renshaw almost looked offended. She was well aware of what Johnson thought of her. 'Of course!' she snapped.

 

Johnson ignored her. 'Alright!' he bellowed, 'Take her down!'

 

The Victory slowly started to descend through the uncompromising atmosphere of the planet. Incongruously it stood out amongst the clouds, and made itself even more obvious by leaving a thick, black vapour trail in its wake. Despite all its clumsy features it performed a graceful turn in the sky, so that its engines were facing the ground. Now, using its retro-rockets, the great form began to lower itself once more, like a giant trying to find room for its feet. On the bridge the reports to the Captain were flowing quick and fast.

 

'Standard descent speed obtained.'

 

'Hull stress reading at fourteen.'

 

'Engine heat steady.'

 

'Ground surface scan commencing.'

 

Johnson leaned forward in his seat and studied the map being displayed on his VDU. Rather than geographical features, it showed energy concentration points. The point which held his interest was shown to be some distance away. 'I want to land as close to that energy source as possible,' he grunted, 'I don't want to walk very far if I can help it. According to the probe there should be a place suitable in section D82.' He raised his voice 'Check it!'

 

'Landing zone confirmed in section D82,' replied the navigator.

 

One of the pilots leaned over, 'If you'll let me have the exact co-ordinates I'll re-plot the course descent.'

 

The navigator touched a control, 'You have them now.'

 

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