Cryer On Curacao (AO)

[Bakamono]

A sizeable fishing yacht bobbed in the waves of the vast ocean of Curacao, for miles in every direction the seas expanse lies unbroken, deserted. Onboard, executive broker and long term cardamine user, 'Von braun' was taking his leisure.

At the apex of the craft the captain had time to look up at the dark sky quizzically: puzzled by the distant whirring hiss; before the Cryer transport swooped in at breakneck speed, its bay agape, ready to swallow the ship and surrounding sea.

The pressure differential pushed at the crew, who all now stood paralysed as they stared at the cavernous mouth of oncoming transport. The bottom of the spacecraft disappeared below the dark waves, water rushed in a torrent chaotically even as the shadow of the transport encompassed the yacht, taking everything in its path within like some kind of devouring sky-whale. In seconds the transports bay doors begun closing as the craft lifted once more into the sky, its quarry safe within the massive hold.

'€œYou can be my wingman anytime'€ the pilot of the transport smiled as the cabin crew praised him for an expert piece of precision flying. '€œAerial One reporting in: target secure'€ they transmitted to their co-ordinator before checking the condition of their ill-gotten cargo.