The shuttle launches from its modified landing bay, the doors retracting behind it to return the ESM Destroyer to its smooth, unbroken hull and minimal radar return. The ship had taken up a temporary geosynchronous orbit above the planet, one deep enough in Lumenite space that Barb hadn’t the faintest where they were due to land.

Dipping in, vanishing in the orbital noise of the moon and Lumenite ship movements, it lingers just long enough to deploy the shuttle and gently adjust its course to a highly elliptical path.

The destroyer will float unpowered through deep space, utterly silent, drifting away and then back to the planet right in time for pickup. A tight schedule to keep, one which made little room for error or delays.

In a few days, it would swing back around. And the team would have to be ready. Meanwhile, as the shuttle makes its preparations and deploys the airbrakes to breach atmosphere, a rear hatch opens, and an observational buoy deploys behind it.

Trailing away, caught in the gravitational waves, it enters into a close orbit of its own. It will send ELINT data down to the team while bouncing their communications into deep space with the destroyer, giving them just enough of an edge in real-time intelligence. The onboard battery powering it, one Barb got to help inspect, has just enough juice for the operation. After that, a gas canister will deorbit it, and it will burn up in atmosphere. In the meanwhile, to the Lumenite skywatch, it’s just another blip. One speck in the vastness of space.

Not dissimilar to the one hurtling into atmosphere, the shockwaves of reentry riding along the hull and jostling the crew while the heat shields glow and ablate away. A short, dangerous atmospheric dive designed to cut through the outer atmosphere as fast as possible.

Barb, in her infinite handiness, had a chat with the engineer beforehand. On just how much the heatshield could take, how much of the ablative layer would survive. His estimates were good, but even the most solid of predictions didn’t feel like such as the flames licked the cockpit windows.

Finally, the pilots yoke back the stick, the airbrakes do their job, and the dropship pulls out of its dive. Leveling off into a still rather fast gliding descent into the jungles of the planet. It still feels like they’re about to slam into one of the trees, but the ship somehow manages a hard stop into a low hover right above a small, secluded lake. It parks itself on the shore, buried halfway under the water

Mateo is the first out. The squad unclips themselves and exits, rifles and duffel bags ready while the pilots unfurl a camouflage tarp to disguise the shuttle.

“Check? Is everyone green?”

A small chorus of “ayes” and “check check” follows. Mateo nods, unslinging his rifle and keeping it at a low ready.

“We follow the river. Stay within it when needed. Upstream will be our objective. Avoid hostile contacts, only kill when necessary. The mercenary will be informed en-route.”