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"Raven's back." Ryan yelled through the head quarters of IRS when he saw the black jeep return to the office parking lot.
"He pulled it off?" Ilandra asked baffled.
"No way back boss." Merxes said grinning in anticipation."
The three of them waited impatiently for the two others to come back upstairs. Not even a scratch was on them. They didn't even seem to have been followed at any time.
"No problems?" Ilandra asked.
"No-one's going to jail if that's what you're asking."
"Good. Now how work these things?"
"You enter the location, Merxes already looked it up, and you press the button."
"And that's just for one person?"
"No, you can take with you everything you are holding so be careful not to grip any chairs or tables. Larger items won't transport. It's power is limited, but it can carry a few people."
"Then why did you get 5?"
"We'll probably need to get the hostages out of there before the planet collapses."
"Right." Ilandra said shutting up. At times you could be too wrong.
Merxes set the coordinates while the others searched for useful items in the storage room behind the office. There were a number of useful technological wonders that could make the trip most interesting.
When everyone had a backpack full of goodies they lined up and pressed the green button.
"Good luck!" Ovi said when they left.

Night had fallen completely over HS-196. The night was only lit by the stars in the sky and a small fire at the tents. But the hostages were far from it, guarded by Figaro. None of them dared to speak, but their eyes made contact. There lay a question in each of them: "What are we going to do?"
All of them were tied into neat packages sitting against trees. Though the planet had been near summer on the hemisphere they were on, it was still chilly at night. The only one not shivering was Ponte, who had fallen asleep. He was looked at with envious eyes, because none of the others could.
Hours passed. The fire of the camp dwindled and died. The ground radiated cold now and a fog was rising. They'd be wet in the morning. 
More uplifting about those dark hours, Figaro was sleeping. He hadn't been good for guard duty, or maybe he thought there was no way for them to escape. And that was where he had been wrong. Stevan didn't know if he should consider it an insult or a miracle, but when all of the colony crew had been searched, he had been skipped by the one with glasses. His pocket knife was still in his pocket...
Stevan had fidgeted against the ropes for a long time before he could finally manage to put his hand in his pocket and grab the knife. Opening it was a bit more trouble. He moved so much that his uncle stirred at his side and looked at him. Stevan quickly showed the pocket knife and then covered it with his hands again. Mechs' eyes lighted with comprehension. His face became determined as he thought of what to do next.
Mechs winked at Stevan and urged him to come closer. He turned his back against the boy's and took over the knife, carefully cutting. It was a skill he had learned working in the rather tight compartments of the Medea.
It didn't take long to cut through the ropes as they were already fraying at some points. The knife cut better in those worn marks. When Stevan was free he turned around and cut loose his uncle. One by one they freed the others.
Mechs took the lead. It came natural to him, it almost was as if he was back on the Medea ordering his crew around. A sudden alarming thought entered his mind: Would they have hurt his precious ship? 

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Lantessama Isle
Cy DragonStake  -   Darkling Dawn

Credits:
Backgrounds compiled with images found on Google