It had been over a decade since Major Anso had last seen the high plateau at the western edge of Ghrain-3’s smaller southern hemisphere continent. He was staring at the landing platform built of enormous silica-stone slabs where he and a squadron of Oprit Robia fighters had rescued the kidn*pped Crow Clan by snatching a Serefim Anti-Grav-XL ship. On that night, all those annum ago, a Beag-Liath assault had insured the raid’s success. Once again Anso was relying on Beag technology, but he felt certain their direct intervention was not in the offing on this mission.
The major took off his hat and slapped it against his pant leg several times before rolling it up and stuffing it into his pack. As he buckled his helmet strap under his chin, he said, “I think I hate this damn place!”
Trey stu
