<font color='#000000'>ooc: Sorry for the long delay! I completely forgot of this thread; apologies!
bic:
For miles in either direction, all that could be seen was a vast expansive of tan sand, meeting abruptly with blue, cloudless sky, the shapes and forms of dunes appearing to ripple as heat rose from the sand, causing thermals of air to refract the light reaching his eyes. Beyond that, there was nothing - neither sight nor sound betrayed so much as the presence of a fly in this barren wasteland. The air was still - not even the slightest warm breeze disturbed the sand upon the dunes or ruffled a single fur on the 'dragon, who, smack in the center of this scene, had no idea as to his location. He was seated in a rugged, beat-up machina "dune-buggy" style vehicle, a device sold off by the ramathian military which still proudly displayed the camoflauge and red-and-white crosses of a desert ambulance. This trip, however was for quite a different purpose than the device was used to. Stacked high on the gurney in the rear of the vehicle were all manners of archaeological tools, specimen analysis computers, dig lights, ultrasonic cavity detectors, sonar imaging devices and heavy digging pieces like a robotic backhoe, capable of moving a metric tonne of sand in a little under four hours. The suspension of the vehicle could barely support all the equipment and the motor struggled to kick in as once again, Tirran floored the accelerator and again rocketed off into the desert after checking his location on a GPS device. He was quite amazed the human device still worked - five of the GPS satellites from the humans still orbited functionally and provided at least a vague inkling of his location on earth. The display had read:
<font face=fixedsys>112deg 31min 34sec lat
024deg 10min 35sec lon
[trkmode][dataentry]</font>
Dammit, he cursed under his breath, I'm off by nearly five minutes. It could take me close to an hour to get there. Keeping the accelerator floored, he drove for nearly five minutes, then glanced at the device again:
<font face=fixedsys>112deg 31min 34sec lat
024deg 10min 35sec lon
[uplink+][dataentry]</font>
...What the... I haven't gone anywhere? He stared at the screen dumbfounded for a moment, releasing the accelerator and allowing the dune buggy to powerslide to a stop in the sand, bouncing jovially on its old suspension as it did so. His jaw fell agape as he stared at the screen - these same coordinates had been displayed all day. Had it locked up? If so, he was surely lost for good. He fumbled fervently to try and find the source of the problem - he read the screen over several times.
"Latitude... no errors... longitude... no errors... I have a good uplink... omigod. Data entry mode!?" He slapped his forehead, and quickly shuffled about, flipping switches fervently on the side of the device. The distance indicator came up.
<font face=fixedsys>obj: 3 mins @ 40mph
turn rt 60 deg
[trkmode][dataentry]</font>
Thank god! Only three minutes away!? I must have passed it a thousand times... sometimes, Tirran... He shook his head, almost annoyed with himself, once again taking the wheel and pressing the accelerator to the floor of the buggy. The engine roared to life, whining loudly as its ancient components clashed and ground against eachother, rusted cylinders scraping against the insides of their chambers as bad sparkplugs zapped the fronima-based fuel with too little electricity, straining the driveshaft with unequal load. Just as he approached the dig tent, a loud crack like a gunshot went off and with a screech, the driveshaft snapped, tearing the pistons out and spilling fuel unevenly to the sparkplugs which all ignited, causing the engine to burst in to flames. The flames quickly melted through the extra water bottle strapped to the front of the buggy, dousing themselves out quickly. He hopped out of the car, screaming obscenities, now ignoring the rest of the dig site entirely.</font>