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{{a|opcoboone|}}{{smallcaps|As a blood-red sun}} dipped to the the rim of the world, they watched the procession thunder across the desert a mile below | {{a|opcoboone|}}{{smallcaps|As a blood-red sun}} dipped to the the rim of the world, they watched the procession thunder across the desert, a mile below. | ||
<div style="text-indent: 20px;"> | <div style="text-indent: 20px;">An eighteen-wheeler operations battle-truck, flanked by a pair of [[COO]] picket gunships, kicked up a wide pillar of dust. It billowed and hung over the desert for miles behind. A thin track snaked ahead of the convoy. It ran ten flat miles through desiccated scrubland to a low-lying, dusty settlement ringed by observation towers. | ||
Presently, the towers flashed, coordinated pulses of light: ''three long, three short, three long''. | |||
The | The watchers stood on the arête. The tallest was shrouded in a billowing canopy. The outriders either side straddled dirt bikes. They took it all in. They exchanged glances. They ''knew''. | ||
The | The tall one pointed and said, “That’s it. That’s the signal. It is time.” | ||
“Are you sure, Opco?” said the left-hand rider. | “Are you ''sure'', Opco?” said the left-hand rider. | ||
“Yes, Algy, I’m sure: S. O. S.” | “Yes, Algy, I’m sure: S. O. S.” | ||
“But, boss, that’s “dash-dash-dash, dot-dot-dot, dash-dash-dash”.” | The right-hand rider spoke: “But, boss, that’s “dash-dash-dash, dot-dot-dot, dash-dash-dash”.” | ||
“Right.” | “Right.” | ||
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“But that says, “O. S. O.”.” | “But that says, “O. S. O.”.” | ||
“It’s encrypted. Now ''go''.” | “It’s encrypted, George. Now ''go''.” | ||
The outriders kicked over their motors, gunned their engines and cleared the peak: one went left, one right. They scrambled down the scree. | The two outriders kicked over their motors, gunned their engines and cleared the peak: one went left, one right. They scrambled down the scree. | ||
Still on the ridge, Eagle Squadron Leader [[Opco Boone]], LL.B, | Still on the ridge, Eagle Squadron Leader [[Opco Boone]], LL.B, stepped towards the cliff-edge. | ||
{{divider}} | {{divider}} | ||
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Outer perimeter fails | Outer perimeter fails | ||
===The cultivation=== | |||
There is a wide pasture divided into small cages. Sales details ride in with captured espievies and toss them into a holding pen. A peasant with blackened teeth and cross eyes measures, evaluates and sorts them, tossing out the runts. A junior sales squire gripes about his treatment. The office manager tosses him a couple of credits and tells him to scram. "Too small". "Won't net". "No track record taste awful." | |||
"Lean times, indeed," the office manager mutters. | |||
"Heh heh heh heh," the AML chuckles darkly. | |||
There's a commotion in the fields as a hunting party comes back in. It is Charlemagne, the celebrated sales guru, leading his retinue, leading in an elephant-sized beast by a velvet rope. | |||
Sidemutter: "He got it from the forbidden fields. There are none of these in our territory. They don't exist." | |||
Capture the docs team leader who is too weak to resist the onslaught | Capture the docs team leader who is too weak to resist the onslaught |