Rule number one concerning the arrival of a sanctioned member of the ISF on alien territory stipulates:
"All operatives must engage, manage and utilise all relevant and pertaining information in regards to ensuring safety, anonymity and general professional conduct in the field".
In essence, 'Use whatever you have available to make sure you're not attacked', and Torsha was a flurry of activity as she tried frantically to ensure every principle of this rule was used to the best of its ability.

Never one to follow rules and regulations simply because of the doctrine of the law, Torsha had always found it prudent to conform to the occasional rule when her safety was in doubt, and she often surprised herself with just how extremely thorough she could be. She scanned her console, flicking between frequencies and scanning modes, she checked her personal detection equipment and searched the airways for every conceivable nuance of danger, simultaneously and constantly, checking with her senses for anything suspicious. Eventually satisfied, she relaxed in her seat and opened the encrypted broadcast channel so that she could communicate with her partner, Pell.
"My sections clear, how's your side? Gorgeous", she finished, with a broad grin.
"Safe here, my lovely!" Came the instant reply. Torsha could almost see Pell's infectious smile as she spoke into her communicator, and her heart started to race as she began to imagine the delights awaiting her at the touch of Pell's experienced hands.
"Do we go with the 'programme' or did you have 'other' things on your mind?" Pell's voice asked via the speaker, mirroring Torsha's thoughts exactly. Although she wanted desperately to be in the arms of her newly discovered lover and the brutal end to their last embrace still wrangled in her memory, Torsha reluctantly knew that 'work came first'.
"Secure the task at hand, find out anything that we can around here, finish the job and we'll see what's left of the day! Waddya think?" Torsha queried, silently hoping for Pell to instantly understand the 'hidden' meaning of the sentence and avoid the risk of having to explain everything on a recorded broadcast channel.
"Understood, oh lovely one!" Pell answered, and Torsha nearly quivered at the excitement building up within her.
"I'll do a standard arch", Pell continued, "I'll scan high, you scan low and I'll meet you back here in 30 minutes!"
"Sounds good to me, but I want you to be ultra, ultra careful…" Torsha demanded.
"Awww, that's so sweet", Pell replied, a thick veneer of sarcasm coating her comments, "I think I'm gonna be sick! BLLllluuuuuuughhhh!"
"I mean it", Torsha yelled into her comlink, smiling at the terrible impression of retching noises, "We've got 'unfinished' business, remember?"
"Right!" Pell finally replied, her tone serious, "See you soon!" And with that, the link was gone.

Torsha quickly, albeit reluctantly, dismissed Pell from her thoughts and began to scrutinise her surroundings in earnest. The 'trackback' dimension jump had brought her back to the exact spot she had previously been. The bright sunny day startled and piqued her senses as she marvelled at the lush and vibrant shades of green foliage, and the clear deep blue of sky. For all its alien qualities, the abundant display of life and vegetation within this world was a stark comparison to the cold, bland vision of her home and a deep feeling of jealously began to tug at her soul.
"Right", she silently demanded to herself, "get the job done!" She turned her attention to her bike's instrument display panel and began to engage its myriad detection and recording capabilities. Satisfied at the correct sequence of controls, she settled deep into her seat, revved up the Ion-exchangers and released the brake. Her 'Intra Dimensional Extrapolation and Navigation Transport' bike practically leaped into the air, accelerating at a phenomenal pace and began to find it's true rhythm and purpose gliding effortlessly, a few feet off the ground.

This was the job Torsha loved best, this was the moment she longed for during any mission or task. The indescribable sense of freedom and power her bike gave to her. Whilst manoeuvring her quick and agile vehicle, a deep feeling of invincibility washed over her like a waterfall.

Electrically powered and fed a constant supply of energy via two large air-driven turbines, surplus airflow was channelled to a series of Ion-charged particle chambers, which compressed, ignited and spat out a colossal 80,000 lb of resultant energy out of the rear of the vehicle. The Ident bike was kept aloft not by the laws of nature or physics but by the complete disruption of these laws, thanks to the anti-gravity field generator that ran through the length of the chassis. Working at a similar threshold to the dimension jump generators, the 'anti gravity pipe' created a tangible field that completely engulfed the full length and breadth of the vehicle, effectively trapping the vehicle into it's own designated dimension, allowing it to run parallel with any neighbouring dimension. Able to determine its own place in the cosmos, the AG system of any transport allowed perfect flight situations at any height, in any conditions and without the need for tiresome and trivial things such as nature. When all of these elements were combined, including the dimension jump system itself, the owner of an A1 AG Ident bike had the power to literally travel anywhere, anytime, anyhow, and Torsha loved that ideal with a passion.

Long-term training taught Ident pilots to constantly shift between 'looking' at where you were going and 'scanning' for where you were going, as the speeds obtainable by the Ident bike often meant that you could fly into an obstacle well before you even saw it. Torsha couldn't help herself sometimes and she often flew by the seat of her pants to drive home an even bigger adrenaline rush. Leaves bounced off the canopy, clouds of dust erupted behind her, and great fountains of water sprung up from beneath her bike as she tore past trees, paths and lakes. Torsha was on cloud 9, oblivious to the nearness of many of the objects as they flew past her. Torsha gave up all responsibility, her duties included a constant vigil of the incoming supply of information her bike sensors were recording, but she surrendered it all in favour of the bikes AI computer, confident in it's speed, accuracy and ability to present any important information when it was required. She jumped and nearly lost control of the bike when her attention was caught by the sudden break in communications silence.
"Torsha! Get over here!" Came Pell's intense voice, "I hate to say it, but it looks like the 'virus' was right, I've just tracked a Gashellian survey ship in high orbit!"
Torsha grimaced, more at the thought of acknowledging Virsham's accurate assessment rather than meeting any dangerous alien lifeform.
"Can you find any trace of the two fuckers we met before?" Torsha demanded.
"Not yet, but I am picking up a shitload of quick communication bursts, incoming and outgoing!" Pell replied.
"Hang tight girl, I'll be there in a sec!" Torsha insisted, as she pulled her bike into a high, left bank turn and increased velocity to catch up with her companion.

Following the on-board beacon of Pell's Ident bike, Torsha was quickly able to rendezvous with her some 25,000 feet above from their original arrival point. Pell had already increased the density of her AG field to compensate for the lack of atmosphere and Torsha quickly realised that she had to follow her friend's example. Intensified, the anti gravity field could become dense enough to deflect air molecules, it couldn't be used to stop a solid object from entering its surface, but it was sufficient to prevent the freezing atmosphere and lack of oxygen from affecting the pilot. Pulling in close to Pell's bike, Torsha still needed to communicate via a comlink.
"Did I miss anything?"
"There's been no kinetic movement from the moment I started tracking, but they have stopped communication!" Pell replied. "I'm not sure if they've been able to track me, but, if they have, they're not doing anything about it!"
"Have you still got a fix on their ship's location?" Torsha asked.
"Feeding you the details now!" Streams of information flashed across Torsha's screen and she was instantly able to discern everything about the alien ship, positioned in a high, geo-stationary orbit.
"Any thoughts?" Pondered Pell. Torsha looked up from her heads up display and glanced across at her friend. Her breath was taken as she marvelled at the sight before her. Pell was caught between a twilight zone of shimmering light, discernible and vibrant thanks to the reflective qualities of the surrounding atmosphere, she was slightly in silhouette against the dazzling azure of the clear sky behind. Faint whispers of vapour caught and flew from trailing edges of her bike, and the barest breath of wind caught at her hazel brown hair. Pell must have recognised Torsha's facial expression and she too, broke out into a broad, mutual smile.
"It's quite nice up here!" She observed.
"Magnificent!" Torsha could only reply.
"Hey, are you awake?" Pell demanded between giggles.
"Oh yeah!" Torsha replied trying to remember the last time she had been moved so much by nature's spectacle!
"Well?" Pell queried. Dragged back to reality, Torsha shook her head to wipe away the 'cobwebs'.
"Did you manage get a location for the landing party?" Simultaneously as she was asking the question, Torsha's concentration had been placed firmly on her console in an effort to gauge the situation as best she could, and it was whilst she was looking for some clue that the points of light appeared.
"Pell!" She yelled, "Screen two!"
Pell instantly turned her attention to her own console to check the readings.
"Got 'em!" She declared, "Looks like two of them!"
"What are we talking about here? Are these indigenous craft or are we looking at our Gashellian friends?" Torsha asked, feeling the adrenaline kick into her bloodstream.
"I think they're Gashellian, they're moving 'way' too fast for the local transport".
"How do you know, 'how fast the local transport is', for all you know…"
"Torsha, they're coming in like fucking rockets!" Pell fairly screamed into her comlink.
"Pell, 'split'!" Torsha declared, and the two vehicles split from the air and fell, like speeding comets towards the planets surface.
"I am picking up 'definite weapon alignment signals' here!" Pell communicated, "They're not thinking happy thoughts!"
"Sounds good to me", Torsha replied, as she quickly switched her computer from 'search mode' to 'combat mode', "Pick 'em and stick 'em!"
"Gotcha!" Pell answered as she pulled her bike into an even steeper dive, away and to the left of Torsha's own spiralling craft.

The reasons behind the sudden attack became irrelevant, and any diplomatic approach to a solution evaporated just as quickly. Even with the multitude of hints, tips, rules and regulations concerning combative engagement, there was only one thought on Torsha's mind, 'Attack me, and I'll attack back!' Straining her sight from console to canopy, she was able to see that the two attacking craft had now split and were engaging the two ISF pilots, one on one.
"Last mistake you'll ever make pal!" She silently declared to the heavens. She pitched her bike even steeper, running at a complete vertical drop towards the onrushing land, her speed increased and with a casual flick of her throttle lever, it increased even further. Landmarks were becoming recognisable with frightening speed, she glanced to her left and was dumbstruck at they way the horizon was shifting passed her perspective with an unnatural clarity. She shifted her vision forward and just as she was beginning to gain focus on a small building directly below her, she pulled heavily on her control grips and felt the immediate and pressing affect of gravity on her entire body. Although the Ident bikes ability to 'control' gravity was its principle benefit, this did not mean that it nullified its existence altogether. To maintain a safe connection between it's 'cross-hold' on dimensions, a pre-set 'envelope' had to be written into the computers hard drive. If the computer wished it, it could stop the vehicle from travelling at any speed to an absolute dead stop in an instant, but that didn't mean it could stop the pilot from doing the same. A gradual margin had to be allowed for, a 'slowing down' process that enabled the pilot to keep as much of the capabilities but with the minimum danger allowed. With this system switched on, the Ident bike could protect the pilot from it's own lethal power but the downside was, it could suppress, reduce and minimise gravity's awesome potential, but it could not alleviate it completely. For a second, Torsha wondered if she had timed her 'pull out' manoeuvre completely wrong and she panicked at the thought of ploughing into the ground, but the dread quickly subsided as she gained height and was able to maintain it in relative safety. Barely 20 feet above the soil, rock and earth of an alien planet, rushing along at an increasing pace of 600 mph plus, Torsha felt the exhilaration seep into her being, 'This is what it means to be alive!'

With her computer set in combat mode, all systems were geared towards Torsha's directives and nothing more. The terrain following mapping system probed the hidden depths of her desperate course, detecting, isolating and identifying each and every obstacle or blockage to her path. Quickly arranging a series of pre-determined 'pathways' that became identifiable on Torsha's main screen as multiple coloured lines, routes were created in an effort to guide the pilot on the best and the 'safest' course available. 'Preference routes' had always been the quickest and easiest means of alerting pilots in low-level flight conditions but ultimately, the final say always went to the pilot. Torsha pushed her craft even lower and at times she felt she was literally skimming the grass with the undercarriage of her bike. She quickly glanced to her left and right, determining the exact position of her pursuant, finally confirming with the display of her on-board tracking system. Concluding her enemy was approximately 200 feet above, some 800 feet behind and trailing slightly to her left position, Torsha decided on an aggressive move. She jinked with the barest of movements to her right then counteracted that manoeuvre with a harsh left bank climb, forcing the trailing craft to overshoot and ultimately lose the height advantage. The horizon flipped from left to right across Torsha's peripheral vision but she still continued to check her pursuer's progress by glancing over her right shoulder. Valuable seconds ticked away but Torsha doggedly stuck to her plan, but whilst she remained caught in a continuous hard left turn, her current height advantage was been slowly diminished by the bikes over-riding desire to follow its momentum, flip upside down, and eventually plummet to the ground. With nothing appearing on her starboard side, Torsha cursed the Goddess's and wrenched her head forward, panic clawed at her body once again as she instantly surmised the deadly conclusion of her current flight path. Her bike was now completely inverted and the ground was rushing intently upon her left-hand side, her natural instincts were to increase the turn, to pull even harder to her left in an effort to avoid the ground, but Torsha had been flying too long to fall into that trap. She stopped the turn, firmly pushing her control levers forward to stop the current rate of descent, her Ident bike followed her every command and she quickly found herself running smoothly and out of immediate danger yet with the tip of the bike's tail fin barely inches off the ground. From this position she was able to cast a long, speculative glance to her left.
"Shit!" Torsha spat, as she realised her pursuer had followed her every move. Barely 50 feet away and running parallel to her, yet upside down from Torsha's perspective, the exterior surface of the 'Gashellian Surface Skimmer' rippled and undulated as the alien material strove to continually maintain its shape. Bio-engineered and gradually 'grown' into existence, the Gashellian's ability to create 'designer' ships was legendary, but the complexity and the vibrancy of the vessel's epidermis caught the breath and Torsha was at a loss as to how to proceed. The sudden and abrupt barrage of Gashellian weapons discharge was all Torsha needed to wake her from her reverie. Fired from a side gun emplacement, long streaks of pure energy flashed around Torsha's position, sending clouds of dust and debris flooding into her face as they hit the ground, whilst simultaneously sending deep, unnerving vibrations through the chassis of her bike, as one or two energy beams struck home. Remembering the reversal of the controls due to her present situation, Torsha pushed the columns forward and her bike instantly reacted by shooting up, away from the ground and the steadily decreasing onslaught of weapons fire.
"That's fuckin' it, you prick!" Torsha screamed and she hauled her bike into a vicious corkscrew flip by pushing her control column hard right, following it through whilst maintaining a steady rate of ascent. In the blink of an eye she was slightly above her alien counterpart and directly behind, the pilot of the Gashellian ship instantly recognised the danger of the situation and began a desperate turn to the left. Torsha found she was in the perfect position and as a huge wave of power and supremacy flooded over her she let loose a barrage of phenomenal energy from her forward gun ports.
"Die, you 'fuckers!'"
Energy pierced the shell of the fleeing craft from bow to stern, flames and smoke billowed from the interior but Torsha continued to drown the ship in a hail of energy bursts.
"DIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Eventually, the crippled ship leaned drastically to the left and ploughed into the ground with a massive burst of dust and debris, Torsha's momentum meant that she passed over the doomed vessel with only the barest of vibrations as the air itself was blown away by the crash.
"Don't you ever try that again!" She screamed sarcastically at the huge plume of smoke that was the fatal resting-place of her antagonists, relief blending with her anger as she turned her head to witness the ships final death throes. Relief washed over her and she became quite concerned at just how tense her body had become. She let go of an explosive breath of air and quickly remembered her partner and the other Gashellian craft.
"Pell!" Torsha yelled into her comlink, "Pell, can you hear me?" Silence greeted Torsha's ears and a deep, intoxicating sense of foreboding began to sink in, she felt her chests tighten and her stomach shake, as the sudden possibility of Pells' demise became apparent.
"Oh Goddess, no!" Torsha cried.

End of Chapter 2