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Natote!
00-30. 25 Marr A.C.
Executive Captain of the “Capture” operation,
Yagd Audun Eydlah.
***
Digital coded telegram OOE
Confidential level: A.
Fleet base Stygmarkont
Marr 25
Year 4725
From the beginning of Natotevaal.
Special Department Coordinator
Of the Foreign Intelligence Board
And Security Service of the 3rd Galactic directory.
An Inquiry regarding the destruction of YAG-42
To: The Security Service Coordinator,
Marshal and Commander of Natotevaal,
Yagd TOTE YASCHEMGART
By the time of losing contact with yaggdishvalder-42 of the 156th squadron 1U Fleet of the 3rd Galactic Directory on Marr 15 a.c., it consisted of the following vessels:
– 1st class battleship “Marshal Tote” /flagship/
– 2nd class battleships “Kekvut”, “Maykopar”, “Rys”.
– Heavy cruisers “Jezera”, “Kahn Sorre”, “Krodis”, “Moztok”
– Minesweepers type "Ogayra" / total number of 13 /
– Patrols type “Zhevur” and “Yunus-5”/ total number of 15 /.
– Amphibious assault ships of the 1U Fleet tactical reserve which had a fully equipped "Blue Lightning" commando division with heavy weapons on board.
/ A total number of D-Sh bots – 7 /.
– The total number of support vessels: 34.
77 combat and transport vessels altogether.
Natote!
Coordinator of 00 FIB SS-3
Captain Commander
Yagd Don Aykorr.
***
Digital coded telegram VHN 13
Confidential level: A
To the commander of the 156th squadron,
Yagd Kokum Yohoud.
Yagd Colonel!
I bring to your notice that on May 26 a.c., having performed a thorough scan and trawling in sphere-sector A16N45; 69 flagship parts of YAG-42 and a large amount of debris and parts of sheathing, frames and engine-power plants have been detected.
The obtained black box of the 2nd class battleship “Kekvut” had been demagnetized, apparently as a result of the strong influence of residual annihilation radiation. BB’s of other vessels as well as log books, nautical books and computer terminals were not found.
Natote!
23-45. 26 Marr 4725
From the beginning of Natotevaal.
Information Department
Under Special Section of FIB SS-3
***
To: Coordinator of 00 FIB SS-3
Captain Commander
Yagd Don Aykorr.
Reference
The commander of Yaggdishvalder-42, Captain GRAFOR Tertisote,
Born on Janu 14th year 4694 from the beginnings of Natotevaal.
From the Three Greyhounds System, Planet Gammun, Klenvule.
/ Code 556749 /.
Mother: Daza Tantane, occupation 5564.
Home address: Klenvule, Captain Dema Highway, Building 99, compartment 588.
Father: Shtarp Tertisote, profession 69870.
He resides at the same address.
In 4707 Tertisote graduated from comprehensive school / Code 48769 / and entered the Yagd Kokum Yohoud Metropili Biological Technical College of 1U Fleet, specialty 487659. In 4712 he was called to active duty into the 44th military transport flotilla of the U Fleet, 1st Galactic directory.
Card record of Corporal G. is attached.
Having accomplished the VGF course in 4715, he was directed to the existing Fleet as assistant of the minesweeper Commander DTO-91. Qualification card of Corporal G. Tertisote is in the attachment.
Cadet student’s book of the Galactic Fleet Military Academy and a record card of Lieutenant G. Tertisote are attached.
In 4720 he was promoted for military service and appointed commander of the heavy cruiser “Jezera” YAG-42 of the 156th Squadron of the 3rd Galactic directory.
He took part in the operation on lifting the siege of Stigmarkont, by storming forts "Ihteneld-21-M" and "Ihteneld-40-R."
For valor shown in the battle on the 11th Feran year 3722 in sphere-sector V44N01 / Blue Flex System / he had been honored with governmental awards – the platinum star of the 6th rate and the title of VGF captain.
On the 1st of Junna year 4724 he became commander of the YAG-42.
Being in command of a unit he proved to be a demanding leader, cautious and prudent navigator, good organizer and executed the combat missions accurately.
He is single and without children.
Interests: 67859, 17678, 58698 etc.
Trustworthiness: 7986
He was verified by the Office of SS Counterintelligence and has never been noticed in any suspicious activity.
Efficiency report is attached.
The central archive operator
Sergeant Mara Shtatlidt.
***
Mackliff was laying face skyward and observing a bug that resembled a scarab; it was crawling onto the bridge of his nose and busily exploring dust adhering to the skin:
“Am I dead or alive?”
He deeply inhaled the dry, hot air.
The beetle in a panic fell to his shoulder, ran to a parched leafless branch of long withered bush and hid.
Only now the flight engineer felt like he was floating in a bathtub filled with something sticky and viscous:
– Good Lord, I am floating in my own sweat!
Feelings returned to him gradually.
The facial skin suddenly wailed with all its nerve endings: “Hide me! Cover me!"
Right overhead like a white globe hung the sun, and it looked like it was gathering all its vigour to wither the astronaut.
He raised his disobeying hand to the face and cried out in pain: the skin was stinging and covered with scabs.
Overcoming the pain in his spine, Mackliff rolled onto the stomach, squelching salty moisture in the fabric of his tight suit, and realized that he was not wearing a heavy spacesuit, it was lying a few feet to the left, charred and pitiful, as if it was cut up with a knife.
– Well, I got really sunburned here, – he covered his head, with a scrap of some synthetic fabric, the first thing that came to hand.
He felt much better.
The astronaut slowly raised his head and froze in shock: in front of him, right behind the withered thorns of a lone bush stretched out the lifeless desert.
Flat as a table, without a hillock, without the slightest hint of dunes or ripples –and dazzling, as if it was glowing from within. Light drifting sand sometimes violated its complete stillness, and at the horizon, a lonely whitish cloud got lost in the sky, and was slowly washed away by a hot breath of scorching sand.
– Oh God! Where am I? I-aaah… – a yearning cry involuntarily escaped from his dry throat…
– Hey, why are you yelling? Do you think you are the only one who feels shitty? Ha … Man, Dammit. Strike me dead… I still see you alive … Stap my vitals… – a hoarse voice came from behind the pilot and a huge shadow loomed over Mackliff. Mackliff turned slowly, and behind Whitehouse, who also had no suit on; at a little distance, he saw the tilted container, halfway gone into the sand.
Dybal has been crawling around it on his knees, searching for something with his outspread fingers.
Two motionless bodies lay in a meager shade of the container: the former commander of the space shuttle "Independence" Aydem and the former commander of the "armored car" "Das Rein" – Colonel Von Conrad.
– Well, I'm glad. I’m very happy … You know, John, you have had a very restless sleep, actually. I covered you with a piece of the parachute, and you started jerking your little hands and feet and threw it off. That’s no good. So, old man, can you get up? – Whitehouse added seriously.
Mackliff struggled to his feet and tried to hobble towards the container.
His feet would not move.
If the dune did not have a slope, he would not even budge.
While he was moving towards the container, dismissing the help of Whitehouse, Dybal finally found what he was looking for – a binocular; and rapidly, for a man who has just darted down to the ground, got on top of the container nastily grinding the metal shield of his shoes on the black wall, which was still warm from the atmospheric heat. Scales of titanium ceramics burnt in the atmosphere flew from the hull of the container:
– It is curious to know where we have ended up … Ooh, my arms and legs do not bend at all … It hurts like hell…
