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The Colonial Administration team presses onwards |
Part 1
Corporal Kabir Malhotra of Colonial Security surveys his, for lack of a better word, team. Officer Don Wilson also of Colonial Security, a former Marine, is probably most suited to dealing with their current predicament, although the shrapnel injury to his right calf will definitely slow him down a bit. The third, and unlikeliest, member of the team is Communications Supervisor Fred Doyle, who is a civilian through and through, and has a shrapnel wound to his left forearm. In the past few minutes Fred has detached the sleeves of his dress shirt and bandaged his arm and Wilson's calf and is looking somewhat disheveled wearing a sleeveless shirt under a sweater vest. Malhotra is having some trouble breathing thanks to getting caught in the back by a small chunk of debris that resulted from the demolition charges the team set off to prevent sensitive communications gear from falling into the hands of the Enemy. Fortunately for Malhotra, the damage is limited to three or so fractured ribs thanks to his ballistic vest. Wilson and himself are armed with standard issue 7mm binary propellant assault rifles, with three 30 round magazines between them, plus a half empty magazine in his rifle. They are wearing black utility style uniforms, with ball caps, and full torso ballistic vests; basically, standard police issue gear. Fred on the other hand is unarmed except for a charming smile, and wearing glasses, a sleeveless dress shirt under a sweater vest, casual slacks and, thankfully, sneakers. Turning back to their situation, they are sheltered in a thick row of shrubbery adjacent to a building across an open lawn from the now heavily damaged Colonial Administration building. It won't be long before an Enemy patrol spots them and then they're cooked. Malhotra slides a few meters along the side of the building until he gets to a window, at point which he carefully peeks over the sill. He sees no activity inside the room. He creeps back to the other two, taking full advantage of the deep shade on this side of the building. That won't last too long, so they'll need to get moving. Wilson inquires, "Anyone home?" Malhotra shakes his head, "No activity. The building is still vacant. Remember we got the memo some business was supposed to arrive in a couple months. We should be able to get around or through to 2nd Street no problem. Then I figure we can make our way up a couple blocks and cut back west to Rae's and see if she's OK and if there's anything left get some supplies. Even if there's nothing left at Rae's we can get out the back door and make a dash for the trees. But I am open to suggestions." None are forthcoming, but Wilson observes, "We've got the shadows working in our favor, but that won't last more than a standard hour or so. Let's get moving." They move northwards along the building wall, under cover of the shadows and shrubbery until the shrubbery ends at a small concrete patio, perhaps 5 meters wide. There is a door into the building halfway across the patio, and the shrubbery resumes at the far edge. Just then two fighters scream overhead causing the group to duck and flatten against the wall. After a few seconds, Wilson speaks up, "Those things will be a pain in our ass, though I doubt they're looking for small groups, just standing by to support ground engagements." They involuntarily glance towards the column of smoke where second squad made their stand. The rattle of small arms fire in the distance brings them back. Fred inquires, "Through or around?" Malhotra thinks for a second, "Around. They're probably clearing buildings and besides, we'd also have to break the glass out of the door to open it. Let's just duck going past windows." With that they dash across the patio and back into the shrubbery on the far side. After another 20 meters they reach the corner of the building. Peering around the corner, Malhotra verifies the coast is clear. Northwards from the building, there is 50 meters of open lawn and a grove of trees bordering 2nd Street on the near side. The grove extends at least 200 meters northward along 2nd Street, and even though the grove is partially landscaped it offers good cover. Well, nothing for it. Malhotra starts at a run, "Now!" The others follow, but between a leg injury and not being used to running, the others take a bit longer to cover the distance. Under cover in the trees, Malhotra struggles to catch his breath as the others dive for cover in the trees. Wilson's calf is bleeding again, and Fred is wheezing. Wilson tightens the makeshift bandage, "Hey Fred, I don't suppose you've got another sleeve somewhere?" Fred grins, "You can have the ones off the sweater vest." As Wilson is formulating a snappy comeback, the rumble of an engine and clank of tracks approaching from the north cause them all to go prone and think plant-like thoughts. The source of the noise, a tracked personnel carrier similar to the one that tore up the outside teams at the CA building, slowly rumbles into view southbound on 2nd Street. Worse yet, there is infantry on foot spread out and walking slightly ahead of the vehicle, and they are definitely paying attention. The near side of the line is actually in the grove, but only a few meters from the edge, just enough to make sure nobody with a rocket launcher is hanging out. Passing within 15 meters of the group, the soldier on the end of the line does not spot them and the sweep continues until they reach the building they had just left. The carrier backs up 10 meters or so to better cover the exterior and the squad forces the front door and enters. All pains suddenly forgotten, the group moves quickly but stealthily deeper into the grove and northwards towards the far edge. As they approach the edge of the grove, they hunker down for a breather. Fred looks like he's seen a ghost. Wilson offers, "Close call. Did anyone get a good look? I had trouble seeing over the mulch." Fred observes, "The one on the end looked like the ones in the video." Malhotra and Wilson turn to Fred, "What video?" Fred answers, "The drone footage that got transmitted to Denali before we blew the station. Blue human females in combat armor. You've been shooting at them all morning, you must have seen them." Malhotra and Wilson look at each other, with the slow realization that the few times they actually were in a position to see the hostiles they were shooting or being shot at and didn't actually absorb what they had seen. But now that Fred has called it to their attention, the details are starting to filter in. Wilson mumbles, "I'll be damned. Blue humans." Malhotra looks a bit disturbed, "But where did these guys come from? What are they doing here?" "Mystery of the day," says Fred, "we must be about level with Rae's place. Shall we cut over to Main Street?" Malhotra snaps out of his funk, "Yeah. West to the far side of the grove, between Johnson's Eatery and Jack's Garage, dash across Main Street and into Rae's. Let's hit it." The group lurches into motion, making their way to the west edge of the grove. The hold at the edge, surveying the back of the restaurant and garage just 10 meters distant. They can see between the buildings to the front of Rae's Emporium, and the automatic double doors are in the open position. At least we won't have to break in, thinks Malhotra. All looking clear, they dash across the opening and between the buildings, halting at the front corner of the restaurant. Checking up and down Main Street, it looks clear. Malhotra makes a dash for the Emporium's doorway and the other two follow as fast as they can and probably faster than they should have. Malhotra skids to a halt inside the doorway, turning to check on the progress of the other two who enter a few seconds later. Malhotra's ribs are on fire, Wilson's leg is bleeding again, and Fred, frankly, is still not used to running.
Fred and Malhotra move to the counter and pick up coins and inspect them. There are alien characters on them, and the design is definitely unfamiliar. Fred inquires, "Where did you get these?" Rae recounts, "The blue chicks. Like ten of them pile in here going up and down the aisles, checking the storeroom, the office, the closets, everything. After that they clustered around the sunglass display and started trying them on for about a minute. I was standing at the counter the whole time, stunned. Then they lined up at the counter and one at a time, very orderly, showed me a pair of sunglasses and put a coin on the counter and then the next one stepped up. It had to be the most orderly invasion ever. They could have just taken them or anything else in the store, but they didn't. Strangest day." Malhotra, Wilson, and Fred are speechless. Fred breaks out of the fog first, "Rae, can I have one of these coins? We're collecting intel on our way out of Dodge. Also, do you have security camera footage of the orderly invasion?" Rae nods, "Go ahead. I'll dump a copy for you. I'll be right back." Malhotra, remembering he is in fact in a police uniform pulls a small evidence bag from a pouch on his utility belt and Fred drops the coin into it. About 30 seconds later Rae returns with a memory stick. Fred drops it in the bag and Malhotra seals it and tucks it back in the pouch. Fred is able to find a short-sleeved utility shirt in his size, which is fortunately in a muted greenish color. Better still, it does not clash with the sweater vest. He also finds some utility style pants with a belt and a pair of sturdy boots with socks to match. Wilson is able to locate suitable material to replace his bandage. Malhotra browses around the store but finds that just about everything useful for surviving in the jungle has been cleaned out. After a few minutes, Malhotra returns to the front counter, "Rae, can you check the security camera at your back door?" A couple of taps at the counter later, "Looks clear. It's about 10 meters to the tree line. You fellas find everything you need?" Malhotra nods, "Yes, thanks for everything Rae. Wilson! Fred! Head for the back, were clear." The group makes their way through the storeroom and to the back door. Malhotra cracks the door and peers through. Looking clear, he swings the door all the way open. Still clear, the group dashes across the open space and into the jungle. Part 2Once past the tree line, they strike out a little west of northerly into the jungle. A little way into the trees, the brush thins out and mobility is not difficult. One thing in their favor is a quirk of local biology, the fact that 51 Pegasi (c) does not have any kind of native insect life. This will make life quite a bit more pleasant out in the jungle without any kind of real survival equipment. They can hear the occasional activity at the port, what sounds like a ship landing as well as the fighters using the airstrip. After about 3 kilometers, they take a break. Malhotra thinks out loud, "The port is probably their priority. We should probably start heading straight north to maximize our distance from the port." Wilson nods, "Makes sense. I sure wish we'd thought to bring food and water. Not like Rae had any left." Fred chimes in, "Fortunately it is a fairly wet climate so water shouldn't be a problem. Plenty of rain, and these trees with big leaves look like they catch quite a bit." Fred continues as he starts poking around looking for pockets of water, "I recall that a few of the plants are edible." Wilson asks, "I don't suppose you recall which ones those are?" Fred locates a tree with low leaves that are shaped almost like a shallow bowl, and grins, "Nope. I left my botany books on my desk at the office. Blown to dust. Probably what knocked down Malhotra." Malhotra snorts. Fred detaches the leaf and carefully brings it back to the others and after a minute staring at the water, they decide to risk it. They all get a few small handfuls of clean tasting water out of the leaf. The water bucks up their spirits and re-energizes them, and they resume their march northward. Mostly northward at least, since they are without any navigational aid, but using the sun as a guide they manage within 15 degrees, which is close enough for their purposes. As they get further from the port and the town, the jungle noises begin to pick up. Apparently, the local wildlife had been keeping their collective heads down around all of the really loud noises earlier. Fred has been checking out the local vegetation for anything that looks like it might be edible, but so far nothing has really caught his eye. They have managed about 8 kilometers since their first break, and the sun is definitely moving towards the west. They take another extended break and locate some more water and drink their fill. Fred is definitely fatigued and leans up against a tree trunk to get some rest. Malhotra and Wilson, despite his leg, decide to scout out the area for a while to see if there is a good spot to camp for the night. After about 20 minutes, Fred hears them approaching his position, and he gets to his feet ready to move out. Except it is not Malhotra and Wilson. It is a pair of enemy soldiers looking him up and down. Fred takes in the details as if it will be the last thing he sees; they are definitely human, female, blue, with longish black hair, taller than most women he knows, but not more than 1.8 meters tall, wearing black combat armor of some sort without helmets, and most definitely armed with some ugly looking assault rifles. They have some sort of crest or symbol on their shoulder pieces; I think they're called pauldrons. Are they rank insignia or unit symbol? Why am I even thinking about this right now? Well, they haven't shot me yet, so that's good. One of them takes a couple steps to one side to get a clear shot but doesn't raise her weapon because she doesn't need to; she only needs a fraction of a second to turn Fred into Swiss cheese if he does something stupid.
Malhotra manages, "Fred?" Seeing the looks of surprise and disbelief on the other faces, Fred recounts the events of the encounter, ending with, "And then ten more of them just appeared out of the trees over there and the whole bunch headed off in that direction." Wilson walks over to where the additional soldiers were standing and looks around. He looks back with a concerned look, "There's a bunch of boot prints in this area." Wilson walks back over to the other two, as Malhotra is looking over the packet, "What I don't get is why they didn't just kill Fred." Fred interjects, "Hey! Standing right here!" Malhotra hands the packet to Wilson who gives it the once over and muses, "It must have been the sweater vest. They've never seen one and it must have confused them." Fred grins. Wilson hands the packet back to Fred, "I don't suppose they explained in detail what this stuff is exactly?" Fred answers, "No such luck. I'm just glad I didn't piss myself because I don't have a change of clothes handy. What did you guys find?" Malhotra has good news, "We found a great spot about a kilometer or so north, right by a stream, sheltered in a little ravine in case we need to build a fire, but that sounds a bit risky since it seems they have patrols out this far," glancing at the sky, "and we'll be there before dark." Part 3They move out, heading for their prospective camp site. They reach it without incident and start to get settled into the small ravine branching off a small stream at a right angle. The shadows are lengthening, and they decide to try the packet while they still have light. Fred and Wilson unwrap their bandages, and both the injuries are starting to look angry, with deep red starting to appear near the injuries. On inspection, they find a small notch at one end of the packet and Fred moves to tear it open, "Here goes." Once the packet is opened some gel oozes out. Fred applies gel to his arm and almost yelps in pain. Gritting his teeth he smears some more into the injury, being sure to save enough to cover Wilson's larger wound. It foams a little and continues to burn, and Fred hands the packet to Malhotra who applies it to Wilson's leg. Wilson visibly jumps when it first touches the injury, "You don't think maybe your girlfriend punked you and gave you a hot sauce packet or something?" Once the gel is used up, Malhotra fishes another evidence bag from his belt, secures the empty packet in the bag, and replaces it in in his belt pouch. Fred and Wilson re-bandage their injuries which continue to burn but not as intensely. As darkness falls, Fred muses, "A whole lot has changed in the past day." The others look at Fred and realize it has been less than day since this whole mess started. Fred continues, "It's weird. These are for-real heavy hitters, they come in deadly serious, crushing anyone who gets in the way. Then they neatly line up and politely buy sunglasses at Rae's. Then there's the deal with the first aid packet. What gives?" Wilson ponders, "Maybe they have a very rigid sense of combatant and non-combatant. You weren't armed, so they put you in the non-combatant column. Maybe it is a code of honor thing, it wouldn't be sporting to just shoot you. It might be some cultural thing they need to offer aid to anyone who needs it. Maybe their unit is very well trained. A lot of maybes." Fred assimilates this line of thought, "We probably shouldn't bet our lives on any of it just yet." Wilson grunts. Malhotra just listens and tries to see the stars through the jungle canopy, and when the conversation dies down he falls asleep to nocturnal jungle noises and the sounds of the stream. Malhotra snaps awake to silence. It is dawn, but there is a heavy fog which has cut visibility down to 15 or 20 meters and muffles sound. He sits up and check the campsite and sees that Wilson is sitting up as well. Fred is still sacked out. The overall feeling is eerie, with the dark shadows of trees looming out of the light grey wall of fog. He can't get a visual up through the fog to check the sky for conditions. Wilson looks at Malhotra and taps his ear and shakes his head, indicating he hears nothing. Even the sound of the stream is dampened by the fog. Malhotra has gotten over the small jolt of adrenaline that came with the sudden wakeup and now his cracked ribs are voicing their displeasure in no uncertain terms. Standing, he walks over to the stream and looks around, noticing nothing but fog and ghostly-looking trees. He squats down and splashes water on his face and drinks a few handfuls of water. Wilson wakes up Fred, who sits up with a groan. After a few seconds to allow his eyes to finish opening, he puts on his glasses and looks around. He unwraps his bandage and the wound looks almost healed; no redness and the wound itself looks to have closed overnight. He shows Wilson, who sits down and unwraps his own bandage as well and finds similar results. Thoroughly impressed, "No shit. That stuff is amazing. If you ever see your girlfriend again, tell her I want a case of that stuff." Fred grins, "She probably only hands it out to people wearing sweater vests." Wilson chuckles as he folds his bandage and stashes it in his utility pouch, and stands and heads for the stream, hunkering down next to Malhotra. Fred joins them a minute later, and the three of them do some washing up and drink their fill of water. It is still very quiet and still, but the visibility is improving as the intense tropical sun begins to burn off the fog. Wilson checks on Malhotra, "How are the ribs?" Malhotra shakes his head, "Painful. Even just breathing is hard this morning. Sleeping on the ground sure didn't help." Wilson nods, "Yeah, been there. So, what's the plan?" Malhotra composes his thoughts, "I figure we're about 14 or 15 kilometers north of the port. You remember the original landing site? It was about 25 kilometers north of where the port is now. If we head in that direction, we can find it and hopefully there will be shelter or other leftover items we might be able to use. And given it has been abandoned for 30 years, the hostiles probably aren't bothering with it." Fred and Wilson glance at each other and nod. Wilson stand up, "Sounds right to me. We should be there easily by this afternoon, though we may have to hunt around for it a bit." Malhotra and Fred also stand, and the group moves out. Fred's thoughts more and more turn to food. Fresh water is all well and good, but it has been over a day since they all last ate. As they traverse through the jungle, he keeps a constant lookout for fruits or berries, without success. Just past midday, they pause for an extended break. They have already covered 8 or so kilometers of the 11 they need to, so they feel comfortable kicking back for a half hour. Fred wanders around the area looking for the elusive edible plants and does find a vine climbing the side of a large tree that appears to have yellow-orange golf ball sized fruit. Fred picks three and heads back to the others and stops in his tracks. He sees part of a human skull sticking up out of the leaves on the jungle floor. He drops the fruit and calls out, "Malhotra, Wilson, come check this out." The others walk over and see Fred pointing to a partially buried skull. Wilson stoops to take a closer look and carefully brushes away some of the leaves and accumulated dirt. The skull itself is a greenish cast from a thin layer of moss or algae and has no obvious signs of trauma. Malhotra kicks around in the leaves nearby and finds what looks like the rest of the bones. Wilson looks over the skull, "It looks like this person has been here a while. The skull has sunk a little bit into the dirt and is covered with leaves. I wonder what happened." Fred picks up one of the fruits and shows it to the others, "I don't know for sure, but don't even think about eating one of these." The others nod, and Malhotra seems to be trying to recall something, "Wilson, do you remember that missing person that got reported, what was it, five years ago? What was the name?" Wilson pivots around, "Yeah, but I don't recall the name." Malhotra clears more detritus from around the bones, revealing some shreds of clothing, and more intact synthetic items, such as shreds of material, buckles, and zippers. And a survival knife in a sheath, which Malhotra gingerly recovers and inspects. The sheath is synthetic, so it is not degraded, and he withdraws the knife, and the blade is ceramic, so it is in very good shape. He clips the sheath onto his belt. Wilson has made his way over and is clearing debris and finds a small piece of handheld electronic equipment, looking as if a pocket it was in disintegrated. The equipment itself looks to be a navigation and communication unit, but it is quite corroded and clearly will never work again. Wilson also spots a watch and a medical bracelet around the left wrist of the skeleton, which he gingerly removes by disarticulating the hand. Both items are lightly corroded, and he rubs the ID bracelet to make it readable. Wilson checks the name, "Yeah, that's right, Michael Allen." Malhotra snaps his fingers, "Yep. That's, er, this is the guy. Assuming we ever get back to normal we can close that file and get him back for autopsy," noticing a distinct lack of landmarks, "if we can ever locate his remains again that is." Wilson nods, replaces the watch and bracelet, and stands, "We'd better get moving. Looks like clouds are moving in." The other two glance upwards and the sky is definitely darkening. The group gets underway, picking up their pace. Navigation is beginning to get more difficult as the clouds thicken. After about an hour Malhotra halts, "We should be about level with the first landing site. Let's scout around here a bit, but don't go too far." The group splits up and heads in various directions, hoping to spot some remnants of the first landing site. They have all seen images of the original facility hanging in the multi-purpose room back at the CA building, so they are looking for a fairly large clearing with some modular buildings and fusion stone pavements. These should still exist, even if the clearing is somewhat overgrown. After about half an hour, Fred sees something like a building a couple hundred meters ahead through the trees. He shouts back towards the others, "I think I found it." The others shout back that they are on their way. Several exchanges of shouts later, Malhotra and Wilson converge of Fred, who points to the building. They proceed as a group towards the structure. As they get closer to the structure, they can see a bit of a clearing opening up in front of them, and through the trees there is definitely a building. As they approach the tree line, it quickly becomes apparent it is not a structure they were hoping to find. At the tree line, the three stop and stare in wonder at an ancient structure overgrown with jungle vegetation. After about a minute of silence, Wilson speaks up, "Fred, what have you gotten us into now?" Fred grins. Part 4
As Fred watches the rain outside, he realizes that the runoff from the roof forms a small river down the front steps washing away dirt and leaves. That answers that, thinks Fred. He turns his attention to the inside and catches up to Wilson. Wilson is staring at one of the carvings on the wall as Fred steps up next to him. Fred takes in the carving spotlighted by Wilsons light which shows several human or human-like figures engaged in some sort of agricultural activity. Fred ponders the implications, "Wilson, am I seeing this right?" Wilson nods, "Yeah. This kind of explains a lot about the urgency and secrecy about the researchers." Fred nods, "Yeah, it would. When you think about it this would explain why there are regular sized steps out front. I wonder why the researchers aren't here." Wilson thinks a moment, "Maybe they checked it, but I got the idea that they are off at bigger and more interesting ruins. I wonder if these are the ruins Jimmy Valdez is talking about with his tours." The two stare at the carving for another couple minutes and move on to the next one that apparently depicts more humans engaged in food preparation. Fred adjusts his glasses and looks closely at the food items, trying to get an idea of what the edible items might look like. Fred wonders, "I wonder what this place was, a temple maybe?" Wilson responds, "Probably the original Colonial Administration building. This would be the multi-purpose room." Fred laughs, and Malhotra calls out from one of the openings in the side wall, "Check this out." Fred and Wilson turn and head across the room. Wilson asks, "What's up?" Malhotra swings his flashlight into a smaller room adjacent to the main entrance room and steps in. They follow and see several pallets of cartons and boxes. The three move closer to inspect the pallets, with Fred sticking by Wilson to take advantage of his light. There is a layer of dust and a few dead leaves on top, looking as if they might have landed there if a gust of wind had caused the leaves on the floor to fly around. The boxes on the pallets are labelled, mostly by their manufacturer, but some are addressed to various professors or other researchers. Malhotra theorizes, "It looks like these were pre-positioned for the research teams. The shipping labels show they passed through the port a few months ago." Fred nods, "That checks out. Also jives with Wilson's theory that this is a low priority site for these guys." They scan over the boxes and find one that contains camp rations and eagerly break it open. After eating a reasonably tasty meal, they begin a more organized search of the pallets. Some foldable camp furniture, including some tables, chairs, and cots are located and deployed. Wilson scrounges a large palm frond from near the main entrance and uses it to sweep the leaves and detritus from the side room. A cookstove, some rechargeable energy cells, a foldout solar panel sufficient to recharge ten energy cells simultaneously, a reverse osmosis water purifier, a small refrigerator, and various other housekeeping items are located and deployed around the room. After an hour or so, the rain lets up and the sunlight returns with a vengeance. Steam rises from the jungle outside the entrance, and the stonework of the steps dries almost immediately. They deploy the solar panel on the front porch and charge up the energy cells, which happens a lot quicker than they were expecting thanks to 51 Pegasi's relatively intense output. Taking advantage of the daylight, Fred and Wilson collect water in collapsable jugs found in the supplies. Malhotra remains inside taking advantage of medical supplies to bind his ribs and samples some lightweight pain medication. He gets a small electric lamp working and begins to take inventory of the pallets in earnest, sorting boxes into useful items such as blankets, a chemical toilet, sani-wipes, soap, and towels, and longer-term items like tents and survey equipment. The room is fairly well organized when Fred and Wilson return with 20 liters of water, and they immediately get the water purifier set up and working. They fill some specimen jars and canteens with clean water and stock the mini fridge in anticipation of cold water in the next couple hours. Fred selects a cot and lays out a blanket and sacks out. Wilson decides to poke around the rest of the ruin. Malhotra cautions, "I know you know, but be careful. This place looks solid, but who knows when a floor or ceiling might give out." Wilson acknowledges, "Absolutely. If you hear hideous screaming, run like hell." Malhotra grunts and returns to his organizing activities. Wilson gives the main hall, as he has just unilaterally designated the large room by the entrance, another once over. The carvings on the wall are starting to freak him out a little, they should not be showing humans but clearly do. Shaking it off, he checks the other door on same side as the supply room, which is maybe 20 meters closer to the front entrance. It is rectangular with a large window-like opening in the front wall. Wilson corrects himself, south wall. We're going to get lost as hell in here if we don't get our directions straight. It is empty except for accumulated leaves and some small branches. Ducking back out he crosses the main hall to the west wall and finds a nearly identical room to the one he just visited. He moves to the second doorway directly across from the supply room. We need a better name for that he thinks. Peering into the darkness, there is a similar sized room as theirs, but with carvings on the wall and two doorways in the north wall. The right-hand door appears to be a storage room of some sort, and the left-hand door enters into short hallway with a stairway at the far end. Checking the walls and ceiling, he proceeds to the stairs. They seem to be in good shape; he slowly ascends until he comes to a small landing. Again, he checks the walls and around the corner where the stairs continue upwards. Deciding they look sound, he ascends until the top where they open up into a long gallery that appears to run the length of the north side of the building. The outside edge of the gallery is just a series of columns with the spaces in between open to the outside. The floor is covered with leaves and branches that are still wet from the recent rain. He can see an opening perhaps 10 meters ahead on the inside wall illuminated with what looks like reflected sunlight. He moves eastward along the gallery and peers into the opening. It is a wide corridor that looks to run to a similar gallery along the south side of the building. Sunlight is pouring into the southern gallery, and he can see carvings along the hallway. Deciding he has pressed his luck enough, he carefully heads back downstairs and to the supply room. As Wilson returns, Malhotra is still organizing the supplies, and Fred is assisting after his short nap. Malhotra asks, "Find anything interesting?" Wilson recounts his findings, "I only got to the second-floor gallery on the north side before I turned back. How are you making out down here?" Malhotra replies, "It looks like they were expecting a fair-sized crew here. There's enough to last us comfortably for six months." Part 5In town, things have settled down quite a bit in the past month. The personnel carriers have been parked at what is left of the Colonial Administration building, and patrols around town are now done on foot in groups of four with weapons slung. The occupiers treat the colonists politely and quite correctly; they always leave coins in exchange for goods, they do not bully or harass, and do not rise to the occasional angry outbursts from locals, possibly due to the language barrier. The bodies of the locals killed in the initial battle were turned over to the ranking member of the CA who had turned up to try to figure out where this whole thing was going. The invader's in-town barracks have been set up in the south end of the Colonial Administration building and in the building across the east lawn which was vacant.
Within the past week, two new types of uniforms have been seen at the port and in town. Until now, the only uniform in evidence has been soldiers in black combat armor, usually without helmets, but sometimes with helmets, almost as if it is a personal preference or the soldiers with helmets have a specialized function. There are some minor variations in the style of combat armor, but at a glance they appear the same. The new uniforms are of two main types. The first type is a pale blue uniform that appears military in style. The personnel are the same, blue women with black hair. They do not carry weapons and are often seen with handheld electronic devices. They move around town in small, wheeled vehicles, making frequent stops to image plants, buildings, or people. Sometimes a group will head into the jungle for hours at a time. The pale uniform group is also very polite and correct and interacts with the soldiers quite amicably as well. It is not unusual to see these groups chatting or laughing together. With simulated fascination, Billy duly records these interactions when it sees them, and records audio when feasible. The second new type is an all-black police style uniform, with insignia and patches, and they wear sidearms. Again, the personnel are the same, blue women with black hair. Besides the difference in uniforms, the black uniform types have been seen to be wearing low-key jewelry such as a plain ring, bracelet, or earrings. The black uniforms do not associate with the others but seem to expect the others to move aside when they are in the area, which the others do without complaint. The black uniforms do not routinely interact with the local civilians, but when they do so they are correct in behavior but do not project the politeness that the other uniforms do. Billy feels this behavior is somehow significant and duly records as much as he is able.
A few minutes later, Andrea arrives at the port. She is surprised to see the beginnings of a perimeter fence as well as large sideways rolling gates across the port entrance and exit complete with a guard shack in the middle. The gates are currently open, but a black uniform type is motioning for her to stop. She stops where indicated, rolls down her window, and shows the white card. Black shirt nods and points to a pad on a post a few meters up. She rolls forward and taps the card on the pad and is rewarded with a pleasing chime. In her mirror she sees the guard waving her on. Once on the port grounds, she sees six large transport ships on the field and a number of vehicles busily running errands around the port. The terminal building appears intact, but as she approaches the warehouse area she sees that the west half of warehouse three is collapsed in rubble. That must be where the navy gear was stored. She sees a familiar figure step out of warehouse two. Bob Tyler in his customary safety vest waves and she pulls over. Andrea hops out of her car, "Bob! Long time no see. Looks like you made it." Bob nods, "Yeah. Sort of by accident. I was in warehouse two securing the aircraft spares when warehouse 3 went up. A box of soup cans fell off shelf above and knocked me out cold. I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I came around, two blue chicks were dragging me by my feet out of the debris. I think they thought I was dead because a couple of the cans leaked, and I was lying in a puddle of tomato soup. It must have looked like blood, and they figured I bled out. They were a little surprised but had a good laugh about it. They got me up and helped me over to the office and sat me in Andy's chair and fussed over me for a minute, and then said something and headed out. Go figure." Andrea notices for the first time reddish stains on his clothing and laughs. "Bob, that has got to be the funniest thing I've heard for the past five weeks," says Andrea, "lucky you didn't seriously dent your skull." Andrea continues, "Have you been living out here this whole time?" Bob nods, "Yep. I already had a cot in the hangar for those early morning flights, and the snack bar in the terminal still has plenty of chow. The hazmat shower in the hangar works fine, so I'm in pretty good shape. So, what brings you out?" Andrea responds, "I'm going to see if I can get some of the supplies from the warehouse into town. I don't even know who I would ask about that. If it is one of our visitors, I'm not even sure how to ask." Bob lifts his cap and scratches his head, "Yeah, there's quite a language barrier, and the new black shirt types seem to have no sense of humor. Maybe we just do it, snag a truck, load, and go. They'll let us know if they have a problem with it." Andrea retorts, "I imagine they will. I just hope we survive it." Bob unhooks his sunglasses from the neck of his t-shirt and puts them on, "I'll grab a truck and back it up to the number one roll-up door over there. You can grab the forklift by the office and start making a pile." Andrea balks, "Er, I can't work one of those things." Bob thinks a second, "No problem, I'll round up Andy. Just get the door open and start picking out what you want to haul into town." As Bob heads across the concrete, Andrea heads in through the door and moves over to the loading dock area and locates the controls for the roll-up door and presses "Open." As the door rolls up, she begins to go up and down the aisles making mental notes about the manifest. A few minutes later Andy comes in through the personnel door and heads for the forklift, followed shortly by the sound of the 8-meter box truck backing down the ramp. A minute later the clang of Bob dropping the bridge plate over the small gap between the loading dock and the floor of the truck tells them they are ready to load. Andrea is walking slightly ahead of Andy in the forklift pointing out items. Andy deftly plucks pallets and cartons off the shelves and ferries them over to the truck, tucking them neatly into place. After about twenty minutes of loading, they receive some visitors. Two soldiers enter through the personnel door and head over to the loading dock. Andy is just backing the forklift out of the truck and Bob is in the back of the truck arranging boxes when the soldiers announce themselves with a shout. Andy stops the forklift and Bob ducks around the corner of the truck. The soldiers are asking incomprehensible questions regarding the activity. Andrea, hearing the commotion, walks over explaining equally incomprehensibly that they are just loading supplies for town. She calls out, "Bob, show her." Bob ducks into the truck and returns with a box of instant noodles which he opens and shows the soldiers. He then points eastward towards town. The soldiers appear to understand but seem to have a look of this is all well and good, but it is not on the list of things that are supposed to happen today. The soldiers have a brief conversation, and one gets on comms and appears to explain the situation to someone. Andrea is taking all of this in and notes the soldiers have not unslung their rifles. This is probably a good sign. Five minutes later, a small military truck rolls up in front of the box truck and a soldier jumps out and walks up the side of the truck and neatly hops up the meter high ledge that is the loading dock. Andrea immediately notices that her hair is blue, but it is dyed because her roots are starting to show. She also notices some additional insignia on the armor. The two soldiers come to attention. For lack of a better word, Andrea tags her with Officer. The officer nods at the two soldiers and says something. The two soldiers assume a relaxed stance and appear to be explaining the reason for their call. One of the soldiers says, "Bob," and motions for him to show the box of noodles. Everyone else in the building silently turns and looks at the soldier. Did she just call him by name? The officer has questions for the soldier who explains, mimes what might be a safety vest and hat, points at Bob, and says, "Bob." Bob, somewhat taken aback, points to himself and says "Bob." He picks up the box of noodles and shows the officer who takes a packet, looks it over, replaces it, and gestures to Bob to put it back in the truck. The officer thinks for a minute and then detaches her data pad and types for a little while. She also produces a blank white card similar to the one Andrea has, touches it to the data pad for a couple seconds and then hands it to Bob. Andrea tries to add some context, "Bob, it looks like you're driving. That's a key card to get past the port gates." Bob ponders a second, "Cool. I was pretty sure I was driving anyway, but hey, I guess this makes it official." With a nod, the officer turns and walks to the door, hops down off of the loading dock and departs in the truck. The two soldiers look somewhat relieved that they are not in trouble and that the situation didn't take a turn for the dramatic. They turn and head out of the personnel door, presumably resuming their rounds. Andrea says, "OK. That was weird right?" The others nod, and they resume loading, this time with official blessing. They finish loading and Andrea leads the truck to the gates where they get through with no trouble. Andrea is somewhat dreading the checkpoint, but there is nothing to do but press on. Of course, checkpoint lady is there waiting, the gate probably called to let her know. She pulls up to the indicated spot and rolls down her window, holding the white card. Checkpoint lady scans the card to verify it is the same one issued, exchanges it for Andrea's ID, and waves her on. Andrea watches in the rear-view mirror as checkpoint lady scans Bob's card, checks her data pad, returns the card, and waves him on. Once they reach town they make a stop at each store to distribute the supplies. That should keep the town going for another month or so. But Andrea is thinking ahead to the day the warehouse is empty. Where will the supplies come from then? Part 6Approximately 38.5 million kilometers from 51 Pegasi (c) a small vessel emerges from jump. This is immediately noticed by patrolling warships and there is a flurry of activity as assets converge on the newly discovered target. On board the interloper, the Captain speaks up, "Status?" The pilot responds, "Sir, the power plant is at standby, countermeasures are active, tracking vessels previously identified as Sierra-1094, Sierra-1103, and Sierra-1104. Sierra-1103 is closest to us with an ETA of 97 minutes." The Captain acknowledges, "Very well. Deploy the jump pod with a 45-minute delay." The pilot acknowledges. The captain keys the intercom, "Team prepare for maneuvering. We expect atmospheric insertion in 6 hours." Marine Lieutenant Jackson answers, "Understood." The pilot engages the reaction drives and begins an elliptical trajectory away from the current location and towards (c). With their power plant at standby and countermeasures active, the ship is effectively invisible. However, they have alerted hostiles to their position on emerging from jump, so the hostiles will keep looking and could get lucky. However, the jump pod that has just been deployed is essentially a jump engine with enough fuel to allow it to jump out of the system, only a light year, but far enough to be out of range of detection and will make it appear to hostile forces that the ship has left the system. This, in theory, will leave the ship free to act.
After ten minutes elapse, Jackson heads down the ramp with McClusky flanking him, and the two squads trailing. They head southward out of the perimeter checking with the sentry on their way past. Once past the perimeter, they spread out into a more tactical formation. The jungle is not the worst they've seen by far, and they make good time. Part 7The days have passed quietly at the ruins. They have thoroughly explored the ruins within a week and found nothing surprising beyond the fact that they exist at all. Fred has found some communications equipment among the supplies and sets it up to listen across the spectrum for chatter from friendly forces or other wanderers in the jungle. There are occasional bursts of conversation, but Fred is unable to get a fix with this equipment. He also hears quite a few encrypted transmissions, short bursts that sound like fingernails on a chalkboard, in unusual parts of the radio spectrum. His working assumption is that these are Enemy tactical transmissions to or from patrols. He buffers these transmissions just in case they get a chance to deliver them to someone. Wilson and Malhotra have taken to patrolling the neighborhood, partly out of habit and partly to relieve the monotony of their now cloistered existence. Though dull, it is not an unpleasant experience. The stone of the building keeps the interior temperature a few degrees cooler than the jungle, the food is tasty and has a variety of meals, and the camp furniture is surprisingly comfortable. Occasionally, they've spotted local animals approaching the ruins, but they seem to be reluctant to get too close. Fred has set himself a project to convert one of the cameras from the scientific instruments box into some sort of live feed surveillance device to keep an eye on the approach to the building. Fred is up early because he has had an idea about the camera and is tinkering away. The others are still sacked out as it is just after dawn. Fred hears some chatter on the speaker. This sounds different from the standard chatter; it is definitely encrypted, but sounds different, lower in pitch. It is also in more familiar frequency ranges. This is new, thinks Fred as he turns up the volume slightly. The new traffic is fairly constant, and the signals are strong enough for Fred to figure that something is up. He rousts the others and fills them in on what he is hearing. The others get suited up and grab a coffee and gather around the radio. After a few minutes, Wilson and Malhotra head upstairs to the galleries, Malhotra on the south and Wilson on the north. They keep to the shadows and peer out into the jungle looking for signs of activity. After about an hour, Wilson notices the jungle noises die down. This is a definite sign they are about to have visitors. Within 15 minutes, Wilson sees movement. A figure in camouflaged Marine combat armor hunkers down behind a tree a few meters into the tree line. Wilson shakes his head; this sucker is a rookie or something. He can hear others converge on his position, and within a minute there are three Marines bunched up behind the same tree. He feels he should announce himself but should probably do it from under cover. These guys will probably panic and open up. Well, here goes, ducks for cover and shouts, "Colonial Security. Identify yourselves." Fortunately, Wilson's pessimistic appraisal is incorrect, and after a delay the reply, "1st Platoon, 166th Recon Company, 2nd Marine Infantry. Who are you again?" Wilson nods to himself, this is an actual unit. He shouts, "Officer Don Wilson, Colonial Security, 51 Pegasi Detachment. I'm coming out." Wilson cautiously stands and makes himself visible with both hands in plain view. Another, more authoritative voice calls out, "Not Sergeant Don Wilson of the 63rd?" Wilson recognizes the voice, "McCluskey! Is that you? Holy crap. Ok, come around to the south side, there's a door. We've got two more in here. I'll meet you there." Malhotra overhearing the exchange starts heading for the steps and dashes over to the supply room and ducks in and tells Fred about the situation. By now Wilson is standing in the sunshine on the front steps, rifle slung. Malhotra, with rifle slung, and Fred, with sweater vest straightened, join him as Marines make their way around both ends of the building. Wilson meets McCluskey halfway down the steps, where they shake hands and exchange a bear hug. McCluskey starts, "How the hell are you Wilson? You look like crap. You should have stayed in; you'd have my job by now." Wilson looks over the Marines gathering in front of the building, grins, and retorts, "I've never been happier about my life choices. You call these Marines?" McCluskey shouts to the assembled Marines, "What are you?" The group shouts back, "Marines!" Wilson nods, "I guess they'll do." McCluskey turns and details the assembled Marines to establish a perimeter and a team of two to look over the building. Lieutenant Jackson rounds the corner and wants to know what all of the shouting is about. McCluskey introduces Wilson, "Sir, this is Sergeant Wilson formerly of 63rd Company." They shake hands, "Glad to see your bunch, Sir. But it's just Officer Wilson these days. If you will follow me, I'll introduce you my current boss, and as far as we know commander of the Detachment, Corporal Kabir Malhotra." Jackson and Malhotra shake hands. Wilson turns to Fred, "And this is Supervisor Fred Doyle, the CA's communications whiz." Jackson and Fred shake hands. Wilson continues, "Welcome to the provisional headquarters of the Colonial Administration." Wilson invites Jackson and McCluskey, "Please come in Sir and we'll catch you up on what little we know about what the hell goes on." Jackson gestures to lead on, and the group heads back to the storeroom and barracks. A few steps inside the door Jackson breaks out a small flashlight and looks over the main hall as they walk. And Jackson stops dead in his tracks with his light fixed on one of the carvings on the wall. Wilson stops and says, "Yeah, about that. I take it you weren't briefed on the ruins?" Jackson replies, "Only that there were ruins, not that they would have carvings of humans in them." Wilson nods, "Took us by surprise as well. If you'll come on back to the squad bay we'll bring you up to speed." The group continues to the storeroom and Wilson, Jackson, and Malhotra sit at the main table. Fred has a seat on some boxes nearby, and McCluskey remains standing. Fred, thinking like a host, hops down and preps some coffee while preliminaries are still underway. He sets a thermos, some disposable cups, and a recorder on the table, "If you don't mind Lieutenant, it will help with your inevitable debrief," and resumes his seat. Jackson helps himself, "Thank you, Mr. Doyle." Jackson starts the recording. The others pour themselves a cup, and after a sip, Wilson leads off, "Sir, I'm not sure how current your information is." Jackson nods, "We are current to April 15th, when the navy couriers jumped into Ross 271. First Platoon was given the mission to gather intelligence and assess the situation, and we jumped out about 8 hours later." Fred replays the events of March 25th in his head, "OK, quite a few things went down after the couriers jumped. Everest and Erebus were very probably destroyed; Shasta had been forced to jump out and I had to sign off with Denali just before we blew the comm center around 1405 standard on the 25th. I'm not sure how much longer Denali hung on or even if she did." Jackson sips his coffee, "We hadn't heard about Everest and Erebus. You said probably." Fred answers, "Correct. They were escorting civilian ships to jump but were being pursued by faster moving Enemy warships, which according to Denali's analysis were going to overtake them 16 hours or so before they hit clear jump. We had reason to believe they would come under fire and be destroyed, given that it nearly happened to Shasta." Jackson takes another sip, "So you were in communication with Denali? What was the delay?" Fred nods, "Yes, and Shasta until she jumped. Zero delay." Fred notes the dubious look on Jackson's face, "The CA comm center was equipped with a QCS192 unit, as were Shasta and Denali, and we had previously exchanged keys. The drones also have QCS188 units that were relaying to Shasta and Denali through the CA comm center. In fact, all other feeds I had access to were also dumped directly to Shasta and Denali." Jackson looks impressed. McCluskey inquires, "These drones, what model?" Malhotra responds, "Mark 34s; we managed to deploy ten before it all went to hell. We have no way to know, but they may still be active." McCluskey looks up the specs on his data pad. Part 8The debrief carries on as Malhotra, Wilson, and Fred recount the battle around the CA building. It comes to a crashing halt when Fred mentions that drone 4 had captured imagery of the hostiles. Jackson almost spits out his coffee and inquires with great interest, "You actually have imagery of the hostiles? What are they?" Fred draws it out a little, "They're blue. We don't have the drone footage, but we did manage to get some security camera footage." Malhotra fishes a holographic display from the equipment bin, tears open the evidence bag, and slots in the card Rae had given them. The coin rolls onto the table and Jackson picks it up but is immediately focused on the footage of the soldiers searching the premises and then politely buying sunglasses. Jackson and McCluskey lean in and intently focus on the footage. They roll it back a few times to replay certain sections but are completely non-plussed about the soldiers. Moving the debrief forward, Wilson recounts their movements after the demolition of the comm center. Wilson recounts the stop at Rae's, the dash into the woods, and the march northward. Wilson continues, "And then there's Fred's girlfriend." Jackson manages to look away from the security footage, "What?" Fred picks up the narrative, "As Wilson has mentioned, we all got a little torn up getting out of the CA building. Wilson and I had caught some grenade shrapnel, and Kabir caught some building shrapnel. By the time we were 8 or so kilometers deep into the jungle, Wilson's and my injuries were starting to look a little rough, infection was starting to set in already. We took a break and Wilson and Kabir had gone off to scout for a place to camp for the night. When I heard them returning I stood up and realized it wasn't them, it was two hostile soldiers. Just like you see in the footage. Blue skin, black hair, black combat armor, no helmets, and heavy-duty looking assault rifles. I thought for sure I was cooked." Jackson and McCluskey are just staring at Fred. Fred continues, "So instead of shooting me, one of them pulls out a packet of first aid gel of some kind and walks up and hands it to me, pointing to my bandages. I take it, say thanks, and they leave. Plus, the other ten that were with them that I didn't see until they moved out. They seem to be very good at this jungle stuff. Anyway, these two get back, and we decide we'd better move out. Before we sack out for the night we apply this gel to my arm and Wilson's leg. Whatever it is, it burns like a mother, but both Wilson's leg and my arm looked 90% healed by morning. Anyway, Wilson likes to give me static about the soldier being my girlfriend." Malhotra slides the evidence bag with the packet over to Jackson who picks it up and examines it closely. Looking at the packet, Jackson manages, somewhat incredulously, "So, Mr. Doyle, this enemy soldier basically surprises you in the jungle, decides to give you first aid supplies, and just leaves you alone?" Fred nods, "That's about it. Wilson and I have kicked around a number of theories as to their motivations. Code of honor, strong ethical sense, rigid rules of engagement, and so forth." Wilson resumes the narrative and brings it forward to the present time. Jackson and McCluskey are silent for some time. They just stare at the security camera footage. McCluskey starts off, "Sir, I think we'd better brief the troops on this intel. We don't want them to hesitate to fire back in case they mistake the hostiles for friendlies." Jackson swears under his breath, "Rotate second squad in from the perimeter," to Malhotra, "Do you mind if we borrow your room for a while?" Malhotra responds, "No problem at all, Lieutenant. Whatever you need. If you want to use the building as headquarters or a barracks, there's plenty of room." With that Malhotra gestures to Wilson and Fred and the three head out with McCluskey who is on his way to round up second squad. McCluskey turns to Wilson, "You guys sure know how to do interesting. Holy crap." The squads are briefed one at a time, and perimeter patrols resume. Jackson releases the room back to the group and takes possession of the intel they have gathered. Fred dumps the buffers from his receiver and hands that over to Jackson as well. A pair of fighters overfly the ruins, but fortunately everyone is either inside or deep in the jungle. Jackson asks, "Have they flown over before?" Wilson answers, "No, Sir. They're pretty common sights in general, but the is the first time they've been directly overhead. I'm thinking this facility isn't on any of their maps. I'll bet they get curious." Jackson grunts, "It wasn't on our maps. I sure would be curious. They don't seem like the type to let stuff like unknown buildings slide." Wilson concurs, "No, Sir, they don't." Jackson moves off to inspect the perimeter and Wilson heads back to the supply room for breakfast. Fred and Malhotra are already there eating something resembling pancakes. McCluskey wanders into the supply room and pours himself a cup of coffee and pulls up a chair and sits at the table, "We sent out patrols and located the original landing site. It's about 5 kilometers west of here. You guys would have found it eventually, but it's probably good you didn't. It's occupied by hostiles. The patrol observed for a while and fell back without being spotted. The uniforms were different, though. These were pale blue, and they didn't appear armed. The personnel looked the same though. Any thoughts?" Wilson finishes chewing shaking his head, "That's nothing we've seen. We've only seen the heavily armed type. But unless they are as fouled up as we, they won't mistake the fighter's observation for the original landing site." McCluskey nods, "Yeah, I wouldn't bet the mission on that. If they're any good, they'll land a unit there and head on over. I think your stay here is about up." Fred pipes up, "So is there room on board for three more?" McCluskey's expression says it all, "No, I'm afraid not. We can maybe fit two without overloading the life support." Fred slowly nods, "OK, here's what I'm thinking," motioning to Malhotra and Wilson, "these two go with you and I stay behind and head back to town." Wilson and Malhotra turn, "Fred!" Malhotra answers for both, "No way. No way in hell. You've got technical insight into these people. That's the kind of thing they'll need back at headquarters." Fred nods, "I do, but that will really help with my 'mission'. I'll know what to look for as I gather up bits and pieces of intel. Also, I've been seen by them, I'll just be some civilian that got sick of hiding in the jungle and wandered home, not some new face that might need explaining. And besides," Fred grins, "I've got a girlfriend in town." Wilson shakes his head slowly, "Mission? Fred you knucklehead, is the heat getting to you?" McCluskey is taken aback, "Mr. Doyle, this is a hell of a thing. If you're set on it, we'll run it past the Lieutenant. We may put you in for Honorary Marine." Fred grins. The other two spend the next twenty minutes trying to talk Fred out of the plan, but the more they talk, the more they realize he is probably right. Jackson enters the room and McCluskey stands and motions with his head towards the door. Catching the signal Jackson heads back out where he is joined by McCluskey. As they quietly confer, Jackson looks back towards the group, and appears to think for a minute, then enters the room and approaches the table. He looks at Fred, sighs, "Mr. Doyle, I understand you have volunteered to remain behind to gather intelligence. Are you sure this is what you want to do? Have you thought this through?" Fred stands, "Lieutenant, this is what I want to do. And I can only think it through so far because we're in a situation without precedent so anything beyond the next couple of days is pure guesswork." Jackson nods, he can't fault the logic. Jackson shakes Fred's hand, "Mr. Doyle, Good Luck." Fred grins, "Thanks Lieutenant, I do have one more thing for you before I head out." Fred pulls out a card from a pile of his electronic components and hands it to Jackson, "This is the key card that will command the Mark 34s to dump their data. I didn't dare use it here because the transmissions probably would have been intercepted. Besides, I don't have nearly enough storage here to save it all, but I'll bet your ship does. I have no idea how many are left, but if even one made it, it'll be a lot of good stuff." Jackson nods and takes the card. Jackson motions to McCluskey who comes over. Jackson issues orders, "Take Mr. Doyle south of the perimeter and get him over to the south of the original landing site. Maybe we'll get lucky, and he'll get a ride back to town. Watch him go in and get out without being seen. Get him ready to go." McCluskey acknowledges, "Yes, Sir. Mr. Doyle let's get you squared away," and leads Fred over to the equipment pile. Looking over the collection of supplies, he selects a bottle of water, cracks the seal and pours a little out on the floor, and hands it to Fred, and selects a few other items a lone wanderer might plausibly have. He also ensures that Fred doesn't have anything on his person that would contradict his story. With this accomplished, Fred turns to Malhotra and Wilson, and they shake hands and exchange hugs. No words need be said, but Wilson can't resist, "Sweater vest." Fred grins and leaves with McCluskey. After Fred departs, Jackson turns to the others, "Grab anything you want to take with you. We'll need to get moving as soon as McCluskey gets back." Malhotra and Wilson acknowledge and realize that they don't really have anything besides what they carried in. They both grab their rifles, ballistic vests, canteens out of the mini fridge, and a couple of energy bars to eat on the march. Malhotra also removes the chip from a camera they had been using to image the ruins, and they head out to the front steps. About an hour and a half have elapsed since Fred and McCluskey departed when the perimeter pickets to the south jog back into camp with McCluskey who shouts, "Alright Wilson, time to be a Marine again! Fall in!" Wilson chuckles and with Malhotra they join the rapidly moving column of Marines heading north. About 200 meters past the north tree line McCluskey calls a halt, "Marines, stand by. Drink your water now." McCluskey and the Marines take swigs out of their canteens and catch their breaths. McCluskey puts a hand to his ear, and speaks into his helmet mic, and shouts, "OK Marines, move out columns of two. Our guests are up front with me. These individuals have valuable intelligence. We do not lose track of them. It is mission critical that they extract with us. This means that you carry them if you have to, that you step in front of a bullet for them, whatever it takes to make that happen. Am I clear?" As a group, the Marines shout, "Yes, Sergeant." Wilson knows this is standard Marine hyperbole, but Malhotra looks distinctly uncomfortable with the idea someone actively sacrificing themselves for him. A Lance Corporal sees the look on Malhotra's face, winks, and says, "Don't worry Sir, we don't plan on getting shot, we plan on shooting the f-er who was aiming at you." Malhotra smiles, "I'm counting on it, Lance Corporal." Part 9
As they walk past the first module Fred is able to glance inside, and it gives a distinct impression of a habitat module. He also notes that the modules appear to snap together, including what looks like power and other infrastructure connections. He as able to see that the modules look like they can be deployed as they are here but could be plugged into a ship or large vehicle as well. Fred is impressed by the efficiency of the design and thinks that they must do a lot of this sort of thing. Valnoriim stops in front of the door of the second module and motions to the inside. Fred heads inside and slows down to let his eyes adjust a bit. It appears to be a workspace module, with workstations set up and some workbenches along one wall, and a conference table towards one end. Valnoriim follows him in and motions to a chair at the conference table. Fred sits as does Valnoriim, who fishes out several handheld devices and sets them on the table. Fred takes a pull from his water bottle and looks over the devices. Just then another pale blue uniform type approaches and whispers something to Valnoriim. Valnoriim nods, and points to Fred, "Fred." She points at the newcomer and says, "Halivaash." Halivaash smiles and gives a friendly wave that Fred returns with a grin. Looking around the module, he gets the feeling this bunch are more technical and scientifically minded than their combat armored sisters. Almost on cue, there is a rumble and the whine of turboprops as what sounds like two personnel transports set down on the open tarmac of the old runway. Fred thinks that figures, I wished them into existence. Of course they were expected, which is the whole reason I'm here. Valnoriim stands and makes a wait here sort of hand sign and exits the module. Halivaash stands watching Fred with a pleasant smile. In about a minute Valnoriim returns with some combat armor types. Fred reflexively stands as he recognizes his 'girlfriend' as Wilson would put it. To his relief she cracks a smile and says something while pointing to his arm. Fred grins and shows off the healed injury, and the soldier smiles. He also recognizes the other soldier as the one who was ready to ventilate him if he got stupid. She breaks out a classic you've got to be kidding me smirk and rolls her eyes. Fred thinks how some things just seem to translate. The soldiers converse with Valnoriim for a short while, and they move to the conference table and bring up a map of the area, which Fred notes does not show the ruins. The soldier taps to bring up a photo reconnaissance view and overlays it on the map and points out the ruins. Valnoriim immediately zooms in on the ruins and Halivaash leans in to take a look. They exchange some excited words and zoom in more while the soldiers exchange a look that says "geeks." Fred plucks up his nerve and introduces himself to first aid soldier, pointing to himself, "Fred," and politely as possible points at her. She points to herself, "Kiron Aamrosim," and points at her cohort, "Falar Haalvinok." Kiron says something to Valnoriim and her and Falon leave as Valnoriim waves. Clearly fascinated by the new find, the two techie types are deep in conversation. After a while, they turn to Fred and point at the image of the ruin. Fred figures he can come a little bit clean, and nods and points in the approximately correct direction, followed by making a sign at the ruins as if he was warding off a vampire and shakes his head emphatically, "Bad juju." Hoping that distances him from the ruins a bit he steps back, sips some water, and wanders over to the doorway. Peering out, he sees perhaps thirty or so soldier types heading east into the jungle. Fred notes that they are not in any particular hurry, so the Marine recon unit probably hasn't been detected, and this is just a routine patrol to check out the ruins. He wanders back to the table and sits and watches the discussion. The Marines are making good time and are already halfway back to the ship as darkness begins to fall. Equipped with inertial navigation devices and night vision, the darkness poses no hinderance for the Marines. The lack of night vision gear poses an occasional problem for Malhotra and Wilson as they stumble over the occasional root but does not seriously hinder their progress. During a rest, Lieutenant Jackson checks on Wilson and Malhotra, "Holding up OK?" Malhotra nods, and Wilson speaks up, "Yes, Sir. A walk in the park. The 0.98Gs put a spring in my step like the day I graduated basic." Jackson smiles, "Outstanding. So far no sign of pursuit, but we're not going to hang around to find out for sure." Jackson shouts, "Moving out!" and the Marines form up and continue their march northward. Before dawn, the Marines reach the ship. Jackson escorts Malhotra and Wilson aboard and gets them situated in the squad bay. Jackson then checks in with the Captain and exchanges status reports and turns over the drone key card. The Captain makes arrangements for a communications drone to be deployed, and the drone begins a move to a point 75 kilometers to the east to act as the relay to the Mark 34 drones. This will allow the source of the broadcast to be sufficiently far from the ship so as not to give away the ship's location. Jackson pulls back the perimeter pickets and as they begin to board, the communications technician issues the command to broadcast the dump signal. In the pre-dawn tree line west of Main Street, Billy experiences simulated excitement to receive a properly formatted command. It begins to immediately dump the last seven weeks of accumulated data in a highly encrypted stream. Thinking it is best to move around in case detection of the signal gives away its location, Billy begins a series of random moves. Even at the high speed of the transmission, the dump takes a little over 15 minutes. Billy can hear motion in the town, which it correctly interprets as troops beginning to move in response to the signal being detected. On the bridge, the communications technician pipes up, "Captain, we have three feeds incoming. Estimated time to completion is twelve minutes." The Captain acknowledges, "Very well. Destruct the communication drone when complete. Pilot, make ready for lift." Outside, crew members rapidly remove and stow the camouflage covering as the last of the Marines board the ship. McCluskey double checks the head count and reports to Jackson, "Sir, all present and accounted for." Jackson responds, "Outstanding. Captain, the Marines are ready." The communications technician pipes up, "Captain, the drone has destructed." The Captain replies, "Very well. Pilot, get us out of here." The ship lifts and with the help of the stealth technologies on board makes orbit undetected and they begin their 6-hour trajectory to a clear jump point. Billy is relieved when the dump is acknowledged and confirmed, and immediately terminates its broadcast, and begins moving deeper into the jungle and finds a likely hiding place and hunkers down in the end of a rotted fallen tree. Billy adjusts its camouflage and goes to low power. Billy hears some small arms fire followed shortly after by an explosion which signifies that another Mark 34 has engaged its self-destruct protocol in order to avoid capture and deny any meaningful analysis of its remains. Billy feels sadness at the loss of a colleague, but this emotion is not simulated. Billy ponders the fact that its simulated emotion library does not include sadness. Billy also ponders the fact that it was previously unaware that it had an emotion library. Over the next day, there are patrols through the area, but they do not locate Billy. Fred jolts awake. He realizes someone is talking to him, picks his head up off of the conference table and turns to see Halivaash offering him a steaming cup. He realizes that he fell asleep at the conference table and really hopes he didn't drool. A quick look confirms he did not. It's tough to look smooth falling asleep at a table and drooling all over it. He takes the cup, "Thanks." He sniffs the cup, and it doesn't smell bad, but he can't place what it is. I may as well give it a try. Fred sips, and besides being hot, the taste reminds him a little bit of cinnamon but is most definitely not. It is also a little bitter, more so than coffee. But it is relatively drinkable, and he takes another sip. Hopefully it has caffeine or some other stimulant. Halivaash sits at the conference table and brings up some images of the ruins, presumably taken by the soldiers. She scrolls through them with interest, looking at the carvings in particular. Fred is getting the impression that the human figures in the carvings are news to her as well. If that is true, that opens up a whole new batch of questions. Valnoriim approaches the table holding three boxes of what looks like be rations. She sets one in front of Halivaash and hands one to Fred. Fred says, "Good morning Valnoriim." She smiles and says something; Fred misses most of it but does catch his name. She prods Halivaash on the shoulder and says something and points at the box. Halivaash tears herself away from the pictures and opens her box and distractedly nibbles some sort of biscuit while staring at the images and making notes about the ruins. Fred extracts the biscuit from his box and takes a bite. It is surprisingly spicy, and Fred almost spits it out, but manages to chew it and swallow. Besides the spiciness, it is rather tasty, and he cautiously finishes the biscuit with some help from the hot drink. There are a couple of packets of what looks like sauce or jelly which probably would have been good on the biscuit, and some kind of meat in a jerky-like form. Somewhat conflicted between hunger and common sense he takes a bite. It is mildly spicy and a bit gamey but edible. He finishes it and chases it with a swig of the hot drink. Kiron Aamrosim and her shadow enter and start speaking with Valnoriim. Fred clearly doesn't follow what is being said but starts to see a pattern to the names. Kiron seems to refer to Valnoriim as Bakha Talvar Valnoriim and Kiron is referred to as Bakha Kiron Aamrosim. Fred starts to wonder if he is terribly informal when addressing the visitors. But he also remembers how they introduced themselves and decides to stick with those exact names until it is made clear to do otherwise. Kiron leans down next to Halivaash and looks over the images on the table and says something. Halivaash smiles and nods and says a few words of her own. Kiron straightens up, "Fred," and motions for him to follow. Fred falls in step behind Kiron and Falar. They walk briskly down the runway to the waiting transports. They are tiltrotor type aircraft with open side doors, and Fred thinks they would be quite efficient on Charlie with its standard density atmosphere, and the VTOL capabilities would come in handy for the equatorial jungles. As they approach, the pilots do their startup and the engines catch, and the large blades begin to turn. By the time they get to the near craft there is a considerable downdraft as Kiron gestures to Fred to hop in as she shouts orders to the soldiers inside. Fred manages to get on board, and four sets of hands grab him and tuck him a center seat and buckle the safety harness. Fred sees a few of the soldiers talking and making pantomime gestures about the sweater vest. As the transport lifts Fred grins. Six tense hours later, the ship reaches a clear jump point. With all in readiness the ship jumps on her way back to Ross 271. Over the next 21 days, Jackson and McCluskey conduct routine debriefings of the Marines, and review details with Malhotra and Wilson. It is a claustrophobic existence, but tolerable considering possible alternatives. The mood is certainly helped by the success of the mission. No casualties, not detected, and valuable intelligence acquired, just a walk in the jungle. |
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Corporal Kabir Malhotra
Officer Don Wilson
Supervisor Fred Doyle
Rae Whitsun
Fred's Rescuers
The Ruin
Mk34 Mini Drone
Andrea Marino
Checkpoint Lady
Bob Tyler
LT Jackson
SSGT McCluskey
Talvar Valnoriim
Taviir Halivaash