To the south of exalin a severe sandstorm had begun to brew. A convoy of trucks headed for the last NATO outpost on the surface of the planet. The fleet had been recalled on urgent business. The storm was picking up and the rear vehicle of the convoy began to sputter as dust choked its engine. The lone occupant beat the wheel as it came to a stop. The radio was dead, he couldn't call for back up. He stumbled through the storm and upon the carrier exalin.