<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body dir="auto"><div dir="ltr"><span></span></div><div dir="ltr"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div dir="ltr"><span></span></div><div dir="ltr"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div dir="ltr"><span></span></div><div dir="ltr"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div dir="ltr"><span></span></div><div dir="ltr"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div dir="ltr"><span></span></div><div dir="ltr"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">NRPC:- Sorry for the delay. This should make up for it.<div><br><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mission: The flames of purity<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Day: 16<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Stardate: 2445:<a href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" dir="ltr" x-apple-data-detectors="true" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" style="text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824);">09:16</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(Gamma Quadrant Planet - Temple interior – Tac/Sec Ens. Stan More -12:19 )</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Maybe it was the pain? Maybe it was the dizzy feeling from loss of blood? Whatever it was pushed Stan’s anger at Jost. He moved slowly forward his Phaser rifle poised to fire.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">“And, sir, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.” Jost said a in a voice with sweetness but belying his real motives.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </o:p></p><p style="margin: 0in;">“ I’m flattered sir.” Stan said sarcastically </p><p style="margin: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </o:p></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Jost with a sweep of his left hand snatched Stan’s Phaser rifle from his hand and threw it aside, and as it clattered to the ground he gripped More’s wounded side and squeezed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </o:p></p><p style="margin: 0in;">“Surrender........yer........time.......is.........up.....yer......silly......” More managed through the excruciating pain.</p><p style="margin: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </o:p></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">“Oh, really? This is not the end, but it can be yours.” He brought his right hand up which was now immolated with flame ready to strike the final blow.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">“ Yer.....go.....on.....go...on....go....end.....it” More barely whispered in anger</span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><o:p style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </o:p></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(Reply , Bracken)</span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;">Things after that kind of went in a blur. Stan felt the floor as Jost dropped him. More then crawled towards his discarded weapon. With each crawl his breathing became more difficult. More had to stop a few times. Finally he made it to the Phaser rifle.</p><p style="margin: 0in;"><br></p><p style="margin: 0in;">He lay there trying to breathe. His damaged side felt warm, but the rest of his body felt cold. Stan could hear shouting. But his brain due to the loss of blood. Was having problems sorting the sounds out. </p><p style="margin: 0in;"><br></p><p style="margin: 0in;">More heard an even loader sound. Something big had landed nearby. Possibly the Leonardo but he could not tell. What was the other shuttle called?</p><p style="margin: 0in;"><br></p><p style="margin: 0in;">Using the Phaser rifle as a crutch. He very slowly pulled himself up. Stan nearly fainted with the pain. Slowly he dragged himself towards. The noise hoping it was a shuttle.</p><p style="margin: 0in;"><br></p><p style="margin: 0in;">TBC</p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">( reply , Jost & Team Leonardo)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">( Posted by:- Norman 🐼)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></p><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></p><pre class="moz-quote-pre" wrap=""><font face="UICTFontTextStyleBody"><span style="white-space: normal; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">“ Never trust anything. That can think for itself. If you cannot see where it keeps its brains.” J.K.Rowling</span></font></pre><div><font face="UICTFontTextStyleBody"><span style="white-space: normal; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></font></div></div></div><p style="margin: 0in;"><br></p><div id="AppleMailSignature" dir="ltr">Sent from my iPhone</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></body></html>