From one sunset to another

[louis_forgeron]

//To get the mood for this story, try this:http://youtu.be/ST2H8FWDvEA
(//Pictures marked with *** are original content. They were taken by me on various occasions/ or contain parts of my pics. Enjoy :))
//Spoilers and details from the previous post. Have you noticed that...
The redhead's picture, is indeed present on the cockpit's dashboard, as stated in the story.

***

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Yes, mon ami, welcome to Planet Tangier. A forgotten cesspool in the Omega-47 system.
The Corsairs attempted to colonize it and failed. The Red Hessians came right after, tried, settled on the previous ruins, failed, tried again... and all that madness.
That hell hole is covered with abandoned settlements, and among them, hiding, here and there, are the real Hessian factories, mines and working camps, but all the Gods of Sirius are my witness, they are expertly camouflaged.

And to make matters worse, the Corsairs and the Hessians are still squabbling over that piece of rock.

But guess what? Daumann wanted a piece of the action too. I don't know if they were after the Aluminum deposits, or if they wanted to teach the Hessians a lesson, I have no idea what they were thinking, and as sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

I did all I could to avoid this ... business trip.
I was worried, I had just gotten the word that my father's DHC Colossus Train was missing in action. Not KIA. Not pirated. Not stolen... Missing.
Of course, Daumann couldn't care any less about my personal tragedies and without a word I got loaded into those cursed drop-pods, and sent to chem-sleep land.
I was leading Squad 11, not that it mattered, DHG have a notoriously low concern for human life, and obviously they messed up the atmospheric entry. Most of the pods were sent down at the wrong angle and ended up as a rather unpleasant recipe of "Canned DHG Trooper Bouillabaise".
Ew. Tres desagreable, mon ami.

And to make all things perfect, they also botched the drop coordinates.



When the pod landed, I got flooded with the chemicals that canceled the chem-sleep and gave a major combat boost. The pod's hatch blew its explosive bolt locks, and I leaped forward already looking for cover and the blood of my enemies.

Sadly, I had ended up utterly alone. And guess what I have found instead of a bustling Hessian industrial facility?

***

Oui, that is correct. I have found nothing. Kilometers upon kilometers of nothing. And you know what's funny? Our objectives stated:

"Do not contact DHG until you have located the Hessian factory!"

So, what do you think? Did I radio for help, or did I walk for days through deserted urban rubble, with little to no water and feeding on some rare, disgusting six-legged rats?

***

How about... Walking until my feet were raw and bleeding. Our combat boots were designed for inside-spacecraft combat or for 48 hour short and easy missions.
Walking of broken reinforced concrete, getting stabbed by glass shards... that did not help at all.
To be quite honest, I did chicken out, and at the end of day 12, just before my DHG LandWarrior System ran out of power, I cried for help. I was delighted to hear 10 seconds of laughter, straight from Daumann Command Center, and zhen the comm went dead.
So I dropped the whole stinkin' useless electronic gear, including the rest of all the gadgets that were no more than dead weight without power and ... I started walking.

For 64 days...

Until...

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