Follow the tracks

It can be hard to tell with grav-repellent engines, but it looks to you like the tracks are fresh and little used. So, you figure there will likely not be another truck along any time soon. You do take the precaution of running parallel to the tracks about thirty feet away. After being shot down and stuck in the swamp, you’re just glad to have a clear goal. You know that you’ve only got a few hours of daylight left, so you try to keep running as fast as you can.

Unfortunately, you’re still running along, taking occasional breaks, three hours later as the sun is starting to go down. Running is going to be more dangerous, but once it’s dark, you’ll be able to move more easily without being seen, and you’ll be able to see the lights of the smuggler base and any vehicles that are coming along.

You stop for a moment to check for lights anywhere on the horizon. Looking back the way you came, you a shaken somewhat by the sight of what looked like a single headlight about 300 meters away. You kept your eyes trained on the light, crouching slowly and then staying completely still. You watch it for five minutes, but the light doesn’t move at all. You try to think of possible reasons for a vehicle to have stopped there, and you’re **** to conclude that there is no reason except that they have seen your tracks somehow. Without turning or standing up, you start slinking backwards towards a nearby tree. You are able to move about ten feet back before you feel a heavy boot between your shoulder blades. The boot kicks out, putting you on your knees.

“That’s quite far enough, missy. The piece o’ crap gun I’m holdin’, she’ll be more than sufficient to scramble yer brains proper, but I think it would be better for both of us to chit chat for minute to see if maybe tha’s not necessary” said a voice directly behind you, the apparent owner of the boot.

“Do not be stupid, K’real. This woman is clearly of the ship that was shot down this morning. Trask’s anger at being discovered is now such that we are all at risk of being killed. If he should learn that there is a survivor, it may become ugly. We should kill her, hide her body, and forget her.”

You could tell a great deal about the two men from their voices. The one with the accent was from one of the mining planets inside of the galactic arm. Too radioactive for surface life, the residents of these planets live their entire lives underground, and get all of their entertainment from whatever movie collections they’ve acquired. As a result, many miners affect bizarre, incongruous, and inconsistent accents. You didn’t need to look at the man to see that he would be an albino wearing a pair of surgically implanted sunglasses.

The second man, “Frank”, would likely be a Telosian. Telosian were large, grey hairless gorilla like creatures. Being evolved from a predatory species, they have not involved sophisticated vocal cords, always have a growl in their voice, and never develop sophisticated vocabularies. However, they are not at all stupid, and can be extremely devious.

“Hmph… you’re not wrong, Frank. Nevermind, if it should turn out that there is more than one of these, it would be best to know. Don’t you think we should ask her some questions? And if we’re going to do that, we really ought to make sure she doesn’t have any weapons on her, don’t you think?” You knew where K’real was going with this, and you didn’t like it.

“Ahh K’real, yes, that is good. Excuse my mistake. You are right. We must find out what she knows. Please allow me to check for weapons…” Frank apparently also caught the drift.

“I’ve seen suits like that that had weapons in all kinds of funny places. Better to just take the thing off her. It’ll have a magnetic zipper, just give it a firm tug from the top and it’ll start pullin’ right open.” K’real seemed to know your suits design.