(OOC: I want dialogue to stand out, but I really don't think that individual colors for individual characters is necessary. So, I'm switching to a single color, [color=orange]orange[/color]. My fellow writers do NOT have to use color. This is something I do for myself.)

[b]Day 1 -- around 2pm:[/b]

Paula Kennedy stood over the recently refilled graves contemplating how the Humanitarian Mission Team had gotten where it was and where it was to go from here. There was still no knowing whether the 38 survivors of the crash would be here a day, a week, a month, a year ... a lifetime...?

While that thought was one on the minds of one and all, also on Paula's mind was her new place in the community. She'd been the second highest ranking member of the Security Team prior to the plane's [i]arrival[/i] on the island. Now, looking down at the makeshift headstone with her boss's name scratched into it, she realized that she was now in charge of keeping the rest of the Mission Team safe.

Paula had never been comfortable with having the safety of others resting on her shoulders. It was a feeling that went back to her childhood, when one of her younger sisters went missing while in Paula's care and was never found. 

She flinched at the sound of her name, looking up to find Carol Kingsley smiling to her. The Coordinator asked, [color=orange]"You okay?"[/color]

[color=orange]"Yes, ma'am,"[/color] Paula responded immediately. [color=orange]"How can I help you, ma'am?"[/color]

[color=orange]"First, you can stop calling me [i]ma'am[/i],"[/color] Carol said, chuckling. The Coordinator ventured a guess, [color=orange]"Former military?"[/color]

[color=orange]"Yes, ma-- I mean ... yes,"[/color] Paula said, smiling politely. [color=orange]"Six years US Army ... Military Police. Followed that with 4 years as a Deputy with Clark County Sheriff's Department, Washington State."[/color]

[color=orange]"Well, I'm glad we have you with us here now,"[/color] Carol told her, chuckling and quickly adding, [color=orange]"Sorry it had to be this way, of course ... stranded on a deserted island."[/color]

[color=orange]"Is it though, ma'am?"[/color] Paula asked, reverting to the title of respect. She clarified her question, [color=orange]"[i]Deserted[/i], I mean."[/color]

[color=orange]"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Paula,"[/color] Carol responded. [color=orange]"We need to know what's out there. Potential dangers. Potential rescue opportunities."[/color]

[color=orange]"Fresh water source and a place for the little village you were talking about building until we [i]are[/i] rescued,"[/color] Paula filled in. [color=orange]"Yes, ma-- yes, Carol."[/color] Paula laughed nervously, explaining, [color=orange]"I'm sorry, but ... you're just going to have to deal with me calling you [i]ma'am[/i]. It's who I am."[/color]

The two chuckled together, then discussed a reconnaissance mission. They decided to send 4 people out together, as opposed to sending out pairs of people. The latter would have covered more ground in less time, but the former was safer. The Security Team included only Paula and two others now that their former boss and one of their team members had perished in the crash, though.

[color=orange]"I'll ask around for a pair of volunteers,"[/color] Paula said. [color=orange]"I'm sure we can find some adventurous soul who wants to take a walk through the jungle."[/color]

[center]<<<<<< >>>>>>[/center]

Half an hour later, the reconnaissance team headed away from the camp. The first leg was about as simple and safe as it could be: they simply walked down the beach. Paula wanted to see as much of the island as she could from the shoreline before heading into the forest itself. There really wasn't much to see from here, though.

The beach was about 3/4 of a mile long and, for most of its length, was between 100 and 200 feet in width from surf to tree line. At the east end, of course, was the tall, basalt cliff into which the C-130 had crashed; the rocky face reached almost straight upwards about 50 feet before slanting back to become a forested mountain perhaps 400 feet in elevation and twice that in width.

At the west end of the beach was another basalt cliff and mountain. Neither of these was quite as dramatic as their counterparts at the other end of the beach, though. This cliff was maybe 20 feet high and the mountain behind it -- a [i]hill[/i] really -- was barely 100 feet high.

Between the two cliffs and lining the sandy beach began the thick, tropical jungle. Paula saw no more hills beyond the tall canopy of the tropical forest, though. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe the rest of the island was relatively flat and unremarkable. 

The question on everyone's mind, of course, was just how big that [i]unremarkable[/i] forest was. Paula gestured toward a location in the tree line that seemed to offer the easiest access and said, [color=orange]"Well, let's do this."[/color]

Initially, penetrating the forest was a snap. The foliage was relatively thin here, with the shrubbery restrained by the sands blown in from the beach with every significant wind. But soon enough, the team found it necessary to bring out the machetes. The long, carbon steel blade tools had been part of the Mission inventory for Tongalo to deal with the debris covering the island after the devastating cyclone. 

Paula had used one extensively before, as had one other Recon Team member. Between them, they cut a path through the jungle, heading due north as best as they could in search of the island's far side. The team stopped every 15 minutes to rehydrate, taking nourishment in the form of high nutrient snack bars every other rest break. The heat and humidity inside the tropical jungle was stifling, leading to concerns about heat exhaustion.

After 2 hours of hacking and whacking their way over ground that was only slightly rising in altitude, Paula sliced a massive frond out of her path, paused, and grumbled in obvious disappointment, [color=orange]"Well ... [i]fuck![/i]"[/color]

There, rising almost straight up before her, was yet another basalt cliff. She stepped forward and looked upwards, finding nothing but sheer rock for at least 50 feet. The team split into pairs, with each cutting a path along the cliff for 30 minutes before returning to their original location. They confirmed what the other pair had found: more cliff.

[color=orange]"Let's head back the way we came in,"[/color] Paula ordered. [color=orange]"We'll get some food at camp and take a rest and try again somewhere else ... presuming Kingsley wants us to do that today."[/color]

It took under an hour to get back out to the beach and another ten minutes or so to reach camp. They were met halfway by some of the children who -- upon the team being sighted from the camp -- had been sent their direction with more water and food. 

Paula made her report to Carol Kingsley, offering, [color=orange]"We can try again ... enter from here at the camp. Maybe the cliff doesn't extend this far down the island."[/color]

[color=orange]"Were there any signs of a suitable place to build a camp ... a village?"[/color] Carol asked. When Paula shook her head, Carol ordered, [color=orange]"Get some rest ... clean up maybe. You look exhausted and your soaked. You did good, Paula ... you and your team. Thank them all for me."[/color]

[color=orange]"Will do, ma'am,"[/color] Paula said before heading off to clean up, eat, and flop down for a nap in the tent she was sharing with several other women.