The ground drops away swiftly as you rise, Halliday keeping the ship level for the first part of the ascent before pointing the nose upward and punching the throttle. You gasp as you're thrown back against your seat, nothing but sky visible ahead.
"Hey, Jessica," you call on the circuit, "we're not headed for orbit."
"No, but we need to look to any rebel observers like we're leaving the scene," she replies calmly, easing the ship through a wide turn.
The acceleration finally fades, and you realize that you're high enough to see the landscape for dozens of kilometers. You lean forward against your straps, trying to look through the canopy but also to read Halliday's charts.
"Are you circling back now?" you ask.
"Yes," she says, pointing at the display to her right. "We'll do a couple of high-level flyovers and take some images, then I'll come in low if there's anything worth taking a look at."
The ship does a series of racetrack ovals and you watch the screens as Halliday snaps a quick succession of shots. You bring up the images on your own, smaller console and start to review them. The resolution is exquisite, and you are able to zoom close enough to see individual figures. And there's no doubt that, amid the rocky ground at the top of the mountain, there are people. You recognize the bland gray of rebel uniforms, and some are upright while others are clearly laying down. Casualties, you suspect.
But then a curious ring of figures catches your eye. The circular shape is odd, and as you zoom in you see what looks like a single figure in the middle of the ring. At first you assume it's one of the rebel leaders giving a briefing, but then you notice the much darker clothing. Darker, and bulkier. Almost like Terran armor….
"We have to get down there," you say, "they have a Terran prisoner."
She's been examining the images as well, and she glances back at you.
"There are a lot of rebel soldiers down there. Do you want me to just drop in, guns a-blazing?"
The prisoner is being held toward the eastern edge of the mountain, you notice.
"Can you set down somewhere here on the eastern edge? I could go in on foot."
"I can set down," she says doubtfully, "but I couldn't stay. We'd be overrun."
"Get me down there," you decide, "and then don't go far. I'll probably need air support."
She banks left and begins a slow, wide descent. You unstrap and head aft into the main compartment, where the four troopers look up at you. You size them up, noting the hungry anticipation in their eyes.
"Orders, sir?" asks the squad leader.
"Heavy rebel presence scattered across the broken ground of the mountain top," you say. "At least one Terran prisoner near the eastern edge. Our mission is to rescue that prisoner. We'll be dropped at a distance and we approach on foot. We'll assess when we get close."
"We're ready," she says.
"Setting down," Halliday calls over the circuit. "Landing zone is clear."
You feel the thump of impact as the drop ship settles, already moving for the rear ramp as it starts to lower. You and your makeshift squad descend, rifles up.
Visibility is limited by the rocks and long grass in every direction, but right now such a limitation is your ally. You jog for cover behind the nearest rocks, ducking down as the drop ship lifts off and drops away down the mountain side, out of sight in seconds.
Checking your forearm display, you confirm your suspicions about a Terran prisoner. There is a lone symbol of a Terran trooper to your west, not moving.
"Here's our target area," you say, ensuring the other troopers have the same reading you do. "Loose line abreast—advance."
They spread out among the rocks and cautiously move forward.
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