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From: harrij4@nason105.its.rpi.edu (Joshua James Harrison)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Long Trip Home [was Descent Into Darkness]
Date: 11 Sep 1993 02:06:41 GMT
Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy, NY.
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		FROM THE JOURNAL OF 'CHANCE' MCRAE
~Date: Unknown, Morning. Day 4.
Place: Unknown.

	The night passed uneventfully. There was the usual wild-lands noise, but aside from that, no activity at all.
	Dartan is stable, but does not seem to be getting any better. I hope he pulls out of his condition, because I don't want to travel through the wilderness alone. I'd help him, but I don't know how. I'm afraid for my friend, but all I can do right now is wait and pray.
	To pick up my narrative where I left off last night, we were just drifting, waiting for a job, when Sandy (the nav computer, if you recall) told us that a message was being broadcast to us on the secured bandwidth. I took the message, naturally. The secured bandwidth was only used for business, so I knew it was something we wanted to hear.
	It turned out that it was a job, and a fairly lucrative one, even if it was illegal. We had been hired to run a troop of Kinath mercenaries out to the Rigello system, where there was a rebellion going on. Being the charitable souls that we were, we agreed to the job for our normal price. The meet to pick up the mercs was set, and we prepared to make the hyperjump to get them.
	Before we could make the jump, though, Sandy told us about another ship that was dropping out of hyperspace on our port side. The ident turned out to be that of my old friend (ironic chuckle here) Zone Investigator Durant, and his ship, the Reaper.
	Durant has been a pain in my backside for years. His job is to go running around throughout the Zone, making sure that the C-Runners are following their contractual obligations.
	He radioed us, and naturally, we had to answer. He had a job for us, and wanted us to meet at Zone Outpost 26 for a briefing and pickup. I wasn't terribly thrilled, as you can probably understand. After all, we had just accepted another job. Of course, we couldn't admit to that, and since our contract obligated us to agree to all Zone business offered us, we had a dilemma right away.
	At this point, it was starting to look as though this job was going to turn into one of the runs that you read about in the 'pulp' nets, the ones where the C-Runner faces more danger in one page than most real Runners face in a week. As you can understand, it was looking as though my career as a Runner was soon to end, and I wasn't terribly thrilled with the fact.
	Anyhow, Durant jumped out after the message was sent, and we jumped off to the pickup point to get the mercs.
	I'll skip some time here because what happened next was rather dull. We picked up the mercs, and made the jump out to Rigello. As we were coming in, the planetary defenses shot at us, and we were forced to make a landing near the dropoff point.
	Repairs were required, and the Rebel leader (whose name was Morgant) helped us out by offering us materials and other supplies. I don't know why, but the camp affected me in a way that no other camp has (and trust me, I've seen quite a few). I mean, there were women and children in this camp, and they were living in rather squalid conditions. I couldn't believe it. The Zone was attempting to crush these people, who were only trying to keep their old way of life. They barely had the means to survive, let a

lone fight against the elite troops that were reportedly being sent there.
	When the ship was repaired, we jumped out as soon as possible. We had a meet with a Zone agent.
	The meet caused my moral dilemma- they wanted me to run weapons out to Rigello to crush the rebellion. After what I had seen, I had a hard time doing that. So I decided to run. With the guns.
	They tracked me down. While we were drifting, a scout came across us. Our ship was registered as wanted, and he opened fire with no warning. We tried a sudden jump, and we were hit just as the hyperspatial field opened.
	The rest is fuzzy. When I woke up, or at least, my recent memory is of waking up lying on the ground, the wrecked ship a few hundred yards away. Dartan was nearby, severely injured and feverish. Apparently his physiology didn't respond to the hyperspatial accident as well as I did. It is now the fourth day since I woke up. My theory is that the blast, coupled with the hyperspatial field, threw us into some cross-dimensional rift. I have no idea where we are, or how to get home. When Dartan gets better and

 is able to travel, we'll head out, looking for some form of civilization. I don't know what we'll find, or if we'll find anything at all.
	There's nothing to do now but wait and pray.