text: [Themes: sci-fi]
  
  Not only is he correct, but this turns out to be the best break of the day so far, because the part of the ship that broke off included the cargo hold. It's a mess, and it was mostly filled with personal equipment and belogings, but the hold can be used as shelter from the elements, and the baggage might contain items useful for your survival.
  
  After making a quick inspection of the hold with Nimjey, you return to the group gathered on the desert. Your mind has been racing. Even though you're hardly the most experienced or highest ranking service member present, you clearly see that you have two priorities before you: the survival of all thirteen people, and contacting the fleet.
  
  You explain your thoughts to the group.
  
  "I can agree with the first priority," Andrade says, "but how do we contact the fleet from here?"
  
  So then you tell how Siggo was going to try and land the ship near the site of the long-abandoned colony. "Hmm, could that be?" she says. She activates the WristComp on her left arm and scans the horizon in a long arc, returning her focus to one point.
  
  "Indeed," she says. "I detect what looks like structures about 8 kilometers in that direction."
  
  You are torn about what to do. It's critical that someone contacts the fleet, but are you that person? What experience have you had with hyperspace comm systems? Of course, someone also has to stay behind and help ensure the survival of everyone here. That role is equally important.
  
  > If you would rather stay with the other survivors, turn to page 68.
  Andrade says, "I hate to say it, but I need to be the one who goes to that colony. I am a communications officer, after all, so if we find some ancient transmitter there who else here would know how to use it?"
  
  Lieutenant Nimjey steps up beside her. "I'll go with you, sir," he says.
  
  The commander then turns to you. "Starman, what you've done here tonight has not gone unnoticed. I was impressed by how you took charge and made sure everybody got off the wreckage safely."
  
  "Thank you," you say.
  
  "I know this isn't much of a ship anymore," she continues, "but you're the last crewmember, so I guess that makes you the captain now. Therefore I'm entrusting you to organize a camp and gather whatever useful supplies you can scavange from the remains of the ship."
  
  "Understood, sir," you say.
  
  "Commander, I think we need to get going while it's still nighttime," Nimjey says to Andrade. "I don't think it would be wise to cross the open desert in broad daylight, given our limited provisions." You can sense that Andrade has a reluctance that she's trying to hide--she's hardly the most physically fit officer you've seen--but she knows what her duty is.
  
  > Page 111
  Andrade and Nimjey make a quick search of the few items that were salvaged from the ship before it caught fire, and claim a handful of things that might help them on their trek: a plasgun, a basic toolkit, some packaged NutriRations. Nobody has any water; the ship's storage tank burst upon impact, and its contents have already bled into the desert gravel.
  
  "I hope to see you again soon, Starman," Andrade says to you. "Whatever you do, keep these people alive."
  
  "Yes, sir!"
  
  You know better than to ask when she expects to return; nobody can know the unknowable.
  
  When she and Nimjey set off into the night, you assess your situation. The ship is still burning, casting its light on your band of survivors: besides yourself, there are eleven people, including two stunned children, two people who are still unconscious and suffering from unknown injuries, and three people with obvious bone fractures. Currently several of these people are sitting on the ground, still completely dazed by all that has just happened, and blankly watching the ship burn.
  
  > Page 29
  But not everyone. Others, like you, have taken charge. Dr. Munro, for instance, has been busy tending to the injured--one of whom, you now realize, is her husband, Ander Dyo. He is lying on the ground, using someone's jacket as a blanket.
  
  "I see they made you captain," he says affably as you approach. "I'm sure we're in good hands."
  
  "Fractured femur," Dr. Munro explains, "but he's had worse. I may have a PhD in xenoanthropology, but I do have some basic medical training."
  
  "That's going to be very helpful," you say. "I think our priority should be getting everybody into that cargo hold first for shelter. Then we can start treating injuries."
  
  As you and Munro are talking three other people step up, a lieutenant and two non-coms. You realize that everybody here in a military uniform outranks you, but all of them--even the officer--seems strangely deferential.
  
  "OK, you heard the captain," the lieutenant shouts, "let's get everyone into the cargo hold before the sun rises!" The two non-coms pick up a piece of scrap metal and use it as a stretcher to carry those who can't walk, and even the children help by carrying some of the personal duffel that had been carried out of the passenger cabin.
  
  > Page 37
  You arrange a living space as best you can inside the cargo hold, with one corner reserved by Dr. Munro for her collection of wounded passengers. No one has found yet more than the most basic of medical supplies, so for the passengers with broken limbs she has to improvise splints out of found objects, and then sedate them if the pain becomes too much to bear. One of the two people you found unconscious in the passenger cabin has since awaken, but the other's injuries appear to be more grave.
  
  "I did find a stasis device," she tells you, "so he's stable for now. But the stasis device isn't made for continuous use. We might get three days out if it, if we're lucky."
  
  By the time the sun rises seven hours after the crash, you are asleep against a duffel bag, with Yiggy and Easa snuggled next to you. At midday the desert temperature rises, and even the shade inside the shelter is barely tolerable. This is when it becomes evident you have a new and pressing priority: finding water.
  
  You believe you see green vegetation in a range of small mountains maybe 4 kilometers away. Where there's life, there's water, right? From where you stand the hike to the mountains does not look like it would be that long or difficult. But would it be wise to split up the group?
  
  > If you decide to head for the hills in search of water, turn to page 15.
  "Captain, I have some thoughts about that," the lieutenant says as he steps forward--Markal Oviedo-Nandez is his name. "I think you're right, the best chance of finding water is in those hills. It would be great if we could get this entire show up there too, because I think it will be better than sitting here in the middle of the desert, waiting for help that may or may not come."
  
  "Some of us are in no condition to walk," you say, pointing to Munro's improvised Med Bay. "I think just three people should go. You, me, and one of your guys?"
  
  Lieutenant Oviedo-Nandez agrees. He turns to his two men and says, "Ibanz, you're up!"
  
  "Let's make this a quick operation," you say when his colleague, Chief Ibanz, joins you. "We'll get to those mountains, find out if there's water, and get back with as much as we can carry before Commander Andrade returns. Then we can reassess our situation, based on whether or not we know help is coming."
  
  "Let's do it!" the lieutenant says, and he instructs Ibanz to use one of the FabBots to produce rubber bladders to carry all the water you hope you're going to find. These are then stuffed into three empty duffel bags. He then asks his other man, Chief Gunder, to remain behind and assist the doctor.
  
  > Page 50
  The three of you set off that afternoon. You discuss waiting until nightfall and cooler temperatures, but the need for water is immediate, and your search will be easier in daylight. All three of you are young and hale, and the distance is not that great. You are sure that you can successfully make the journey.
  
  But it is certainly hot. Two centuries ago, when the human colony was established, this was a lush savannah of open fields, rich soils, and clusters of wind-twisted trees. But when the moon exploded and the planet tilted, life on Giri Minor was almost completely wiped out. Some sparse vegetation is starting to reclaim the desert landscape, but the desiccated remains of weathered wood remind you of what was lost.
  
  As the terrain starts to slope upward into the foothills, you estimate that several hours of daylight remain. Looking back you can see the wreckage of the ship in the distance, as well as the streak it made in the desert when it crashed yesterday.
  
  You crest the first summit, getting your first close-up look at the nearest mountain. You don't see any flowing streams as you had hoped, but Oviedo-Nandez notices something else.
  
  > Page 51
  "See that basin coming down the slope?" he says. "The brush is thicker there than anywhere else. Maybe if we scampered all through these hills we might stumble across Shangri-La, but we don't have that kind of time. I think that's our best bet right now for finding water."
  
  You agree, but nevertheless getting to that brushy basin will entail 2 more kilometers of hiking and quite a bit more climbing. But the effort pays off as you near the brushy basin. To your surprise a faint trail appears amidst the dry grass, leading straight into the taller brush.
  
  "A game trail," Oviedo-Nandez says. "Something lives here and comes to this spot regularly for a drink of water, I'll bet."
  
  The lieutenant sounds excited, but you are concerned about what you might be sharing this trail with. The rough path leads into the brush, which grows taller and taller the further you penetrate the basin. Eventually the vegetation is two meters taller than you are and forms a very shady cover.
  
  But when you find the stream, it is just a tiny rill, with barely a trickle over the rocks. "There's got to be more than this to justify all this brush," Oviedo-Nandez says, and with his hands he starts prying rocks out of the stream bed. You and Ibanz immediately start helping.
  
  > Page 52
  You find that you can dig quite a hole in the stream bed, which promptly fills with water. The act of digging clouds the water with sediment, but once that settles the water is perfectly clear. The process of filling the rubber bladders is painfully slow, though, so you and Ibanz try digging another hole downstream.
  
  What you discover, though, is that given the tools and time at your disposal, there is only so much water you will be able to tote back to the wreckage. You cannot see the sun from inside this basin, but the light on the upper slopes of the mountain is starting to turn golden, suggesting that you are nearing sunset.
  
  "None of us have WristComps," you point out, "so if we turn back now we'll still have time to make a visual bearing before setting off across the desert in the dark."
  
  "True," Oviedo-Nandez says, "but we'll be going back with at best six liters of water, and that's not nearly enough for everyone. We can stay the night right here, fill up every one of the bladders, and return to camp at dawn."
  
  > If you head back to the crash site now, turn to page 60.
  You pack up the three 2-liter bladders that you managed to fill, and each one of you takes one last turn at the hole getting your own personal fill of water before making the return trip. Then you dash up the game trail toward the open hillside, finding Giri Minor's large sun hovering over the far horizon. You practically jog down the mountainside and up to the crest of the foothill. You can make out the wreckage of the ship, where there is now a spot of light--someone has lit a campfire, which will guide you like a beacon across the desert plain.
  
  And in the light of the two remaining moons, your own tracks from earlier in the day are still easy to follow.
  
  > Page 16
  But soon after the sun has completely disappeared and the temperature cools, there is an eerie skittering sound all around you. The desert floor seems to be alive.
  
  "We need to book it," the lieutenant says, but in the dim light you see hundreds of tiny little creatures crawling out of the ground and up his legs. They remind you of tiny crabs, black and shiny, with one ragged-edged claw pointing forward. Ibanz is covered too, and to your horror so are you. They bite into your exposed skin with their claw and you immediately feel dizzy.
  
  The next thing you know you are hallucinating that the entire desert is on fire, burning you alive with it. You frantically open your pack and empty the contents of the water bladders over your head, but the flames continue to spread across your flesh, undeterred. Then your vision goes black altogether, and you collapse to the ground. When your bodies are located the next day by Dr. Munro, your bones have been picked clean--and the creatures that devoured you and absorbed your moisture have scurried back into the desert floor.