A Rescue Mission

[Commissar]

...Source: Planet Manhattan [Via Democritus Class Yacht 'Apollo.']...
...Encryption: Unknown...

*McFarlen smiled the grainer video feed, presumably generated by radio fields, obscuring some of the expression.*

Aye, that's her to the bone.

Is she alright? Do you know where she is, Ma'am, her mother's worried out of her mind. *The man winced as he said it. It seemed she wasn't the only one.* If you've got anymore information... *He shrugged.*

Please, keep her safe, whoever you are.

Johnathon scowled, cutting the Democritus' connection. Was it just him, or had someone fallen off a chair?

Godfrey still hadn't got back to him on the symbol. It was unusual, the man was normally the model of efficiency. Still, the entrepreneur had bigger fish to fry.


He flicked a switch on the Yaught's control panel.
"How are the engines looking Matthew?"
"Err, not too good Sir. The bird hasn't flown in years. It'll be a few weeks yet before those parts get pulled in." The grubby engineer's voice floated down the three miles of wiring connecting the Democritus' cockpit to its engine bay.
McFarlen sighed; it should have been Sarah in this with him. The old Yacht had been a pet project of hers, now he was going to use it to bring her home again.
"Righto, keep at it."

---

May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |