Underground Pass

[Omi]

Even on the best of days, Nauru was no great holiday destination. In fact, it would have been lucky to ever crop up on any list of note, being little more than a backwater planet with scorching deserts and an unpleasant atmosphere that happened to have some semi-important stuff in orbit.

Or at least, that was what everyone thought. Everyone but her, Koftik and Ravis, perhaps. Not that Komachi knew who Koftik was, even. Some sort of local guide? It wouldn't really matter, anyway - he was Tal's contact, not hers. He could handle all of that end of things, and she'd handle hers. Right now, that meant finalising her descent, since she was coming in far too fast, even for Nauru's rather pathetic excuse for an atmosphere.

The Anki flares its lateral thrusters, the nose coming up sharply as the whole freighter groans in protest. Her red-hot descent turns into more of a lukewarm glide, the ship's velocity peeling off like a banana being disrobed as she guides it down in something vaguely resembling a standard final approach.

Where am I even going, anyway? Her comrade's coordinates didn't seem to denote anything in particular. In fact, as the planet's surface grows in detail below her, it just looks like a hell of a lot of sand. What little civilisation Nauru bore on its surface looks to be hundreds of miles of, if not thousands. Fortunately, she'd crammed weeks of food, water, and other essentials into the back of her trusty little freighter - as well as a few distinct nonessentials. Some of them had just been too cool or too nice to have around to leave behind, though. Hopefully, she wouldn't come to regret that.

After a few more minutes of painstaking descent, the sandy, windswept surface finally resolves itself into something vaguely interesting. A mountain - more of a hill, really, and fairly unimpressive - rolls out from beyond the horizon, and as the Anki homes in on the precise location she'd been given, that's about all she gets. It's about the most desolate looking thing she's ever seen. Doubtfully, Komachi checks her nav computer, receiving only a happy-sounding beep of confirmation in reply.

I guess this is the place, but... geez, is this really the place?

Shrugging mentally (physical ones weren't advisable at the helm of a ship, after all), the ex-Chrysanthemum sets the Anki down with a final little thump, wincing as the freighter lists noticeably against the shifting sands. That would make taking off a pain, but at least she hadn't wound up crashing.

Now, there was just one thing left to do. Reaching across to her left-hand console, she keys in a few precise presses on the screen. The Anki's comms array sputters into life, tuning itself to the desired transmission frequency and encoding in less than a microsecond.

"Ravis," she says, not quite able to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. "I'm... here? I think."

With some trepidation, she stares out of the viewscreen, her eyes running across miles and miles of burning, dark orange sand. Nauru already sucked - and it probably wasn't going to get any better.

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[t0l]

[redacted]

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[Omi]

Komachi spots him coming a mile away, rolling her eyes as the Scimitar sets down just beside her, thrusters on its underside kicking up great gouts of sand up, over. and against her Anki's hull plating. That was sure to be murder on the paint job. Couldn't he have landed a bit further away?

Watching as the canopy pops open and her intrepid compatriot hops out onto the sand, she winces in sympathy as a cloud of noxious, swirling dust engulfs the unfortunate man. Trust the wind to pick up right then, eh? Boy, was she glad that he was coming to her, and not the other way around.

Tearing her gaze away from the windswept scene outside, she hops off her chair and strides towards the aft section of the ship, stepping smartly over and through the connecting airlock that separated the cargo bay from the main cockpit. She all too rarely bothered to use it, but with the atmosphere on Nauru being so unavoidably disgusting, today is going to be one of those days. At least the cockpit wouldn't smell like smashed eggs during the flight home, and the relatively spartan bay section could always be stripped out and blasted with disinfectant and air freshener until things were rosy again. Theoretically.

Lifting the mask around her neck up into position over her mouth and nose, Komachi hooks up to her personal air supply just as a faint knocking starts from the rear exterior airlock. No way was she breathing any of that stuff. Not now, not ever. Shallow breaths were the order of the day, at least until they descended into the pass proper, where the atmospheric content might be a little less rancid. So she hopes, anyway.

Another bout of knocking jerks her back to reality, and she yanks down on a wall-mounted lever just to her right. The airlock next to it hisses in protest, tired old machinery clunking once again into action to allow Ravis on board.

"Chop chop, Ravis!" she announces, speaking directly into a wall-mounted intercom. "The less of that Nauru air you let on board, the happier I'm gonna be alllll day long."

Folding her arms, she takes up position just to the side of the interior door, waiting for him to enter the ship properly.

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[t0l]

[redacted]

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