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The briefing room of the USS Gaines resembles a small lecture hall,
with seats facing toward a wall dominated by a video display. It's
0700, and the senior staff of the 108th Colonial Marines stands
impatiently in front of the screen, waiting for the crowd to find
their seats and settle down. On the display, a file on some sort of
bloated cargo ship scrolls up. Personnel files, manifest data, travel
logs follow. It's set to loop continuously, serving as an
informative, if only slightly ominous wallpaper for the duration of
the briefing.
Fleming taps a pen against the brace of his clipboard. He folds back
a page and pretends to read. Moore stands off to one side, in the
traditional at ease military posture. The grunts each find a short
stack of disks and their own clipboards. The lieutenant commences
with the briefing in his usual manner.
"Shut up and listen. Five days ago, way station Rodina, which serves
as a transport hub and research station for our sector, picked up an
emergency beacon of the supply ship USCSS Korea. The Korea is a
medium range frigate with an annual circuit that takes it around to
PZ-190, LV-426, and DE-881, also known as Ketta Ketta 9. For a reason
that's still unknown, the Korea initiated its emergency autonav
shortly after departure from LV-426, a colony called Hadley's Hope.
"Colony supply ships automatically set course for their base of
origin under any number of emergency conditions. Neither we nor
Rodina have had any luck in contacting the crew. Our objective is a
search and investigation with the possibility of med evac. Our
standard operating procedure will include repeated attempts to
establish communications until we're close enough for a boarding
action. If the crew of the Korea were able to respond, they would
have done it already, so it looks like we're going in unless somebody
waves from the windows.
"We should intercept the Korea in 13 hours.
"Dropship crew, authorization is denied for weapons on boarding
actions, as you know, so four hours should be plenty to have her
ready.
"Berliner, Patwardhan, bring in all the extra med gear and load it
into the APC. I want eight sentry units and the triage unit ready to
deploy.
"Morrison, you're on weapons detail, regular assignments.
"Booths, McKenzie, get the smartguns assembled and run your drills.
"Vitelli, you're with me and Leon. We're going to try to patch into
their transmitter if possible, avoid manually cranking their hangar
door. Comlab's set for ECU and LWA scans. I want you to man that station and see if we pick up anything.
"You've got your assignments. We're on a tight schedule, so keep your
questions short." His way of inviting cross examination.
Vitelli sits with his back against a wall, flipping through the many
pages of his clipboard as the lieutenant gives out his orders. He
scans the small print, fumbling with a lit cigarette with his free
hand. He takes a deep drag, and slowly exhales a cloud of smoke. "Do
we have any idea what happened, or are we going in there like blind
mice?"
"We'll know more when we're in range to intercept," says Sarge. "It
could just be a simple malfunction. Radio failure, an improper seal,
cargo knocking around in the hold; a lot different things can set the
autonav on emergency protocol."
Fleming almost cuts him short. "The crew is probably in cryo right
now. We've seen this kind of thing before. We'll know more when we're
in range to intercept. Vitelli?"
"Have we got schematics on this ghost ship?" asks the comtech.
The smooth faced android turns in his seat, directing his gaze at
Vitelli and answering on behalf of the lieutenant. "We should be able
to work one up from the ultrasound."
"What was the Korea hauling on this run?" Patwardhan asks.
Fleming goes to his clipboard. "Building materials, P5000 loaders,
quad axle construction vehicles. Replacement parts and other supplies
that can't be produced in the colonies. Some Earth luxuries: Dom
Perignon, chocolate. Assorted sundries."
The doc gets more specific. "Was it carrying any toxic chemicals,
anything radioactive? Something that might have incapacitated the
crew if handled improperly?"
"Not among the bulk cargo," Fleming says automatically. "But we've
considered the possibility of contamination, yes. Hydrochemical fuels
are listed on the manifest, but would have been offloaded at PZ190."
"Did the crew have anything anomalous in their last round of physicals? Any unusual viruses or bacteria?"
"Negative. They were clean when they left space station Rodina." With clinical precision, PFC Patwardhan continues her line of questioning. "The crew manifest doesn't list any psych problems, but we have several career space jockeys. Look at that one there, Watson, with fourteen runs. I assume that they were under spec regarding cryo
time? Minimal likelihood of cryo induced psychosis, I assume? Any of them have a record?"
"Unknown," Fleming says. "The company boys will have all of that info for you at the inquest, Earthside. Everything we have on the Korea and her crew came from the files at Rodina station, so they're far
from complete. Are we through?"
Booths steepled his fingers. With multiple levels, the Korea was going to be a headache. "Are we going to be sweeping deck by deck, or making a point sweep?"
"We'll move in toward the critical systems, I think," says Fleming, trying to get Moore's approval. The Sarge nods and the lieutenant continues. "And then do a more thorough search after we've checked
the cryo bay. We'll use the sentry guns to cover other entry points
to our operations center, which should be the main hangar itself
until we can secure the area. Duarte and Sabo will take pulse rifle
assignments, and walk perimeter once we're on board."
"Time to kick ass and take names," prides the dropship rookie Sabo.
No one shares his enthusiasm. "What the fuck are you looking at,
Vitelli?" he says, challenging the comtech's apprehensive
glance. "You couldn't shoot the broad side of a-"
"Trooper!" bellows Sergeant Moore. "Drop and start counting now!"
Sabo hits the deck and begins his punishment.
"I've got a question, lieutenant," says McKenzie. "Aside from the
five stiffs, the non toxic cargo, the champagne, and a busted
transmitter, are there any other dangers we should prepare for? Like
kittens, or kids with lollipops? 'Cause I'm not sure two smartgunners
will be enough for this op-"
"Trooper!" Moore shouts. McKenzie joins Sabo on the deck, each trying
to out pace the other.
Booth shakes his head, and almost smiles watching the rookies perform
their push ups. Green through and through, he think. As his attention
returns to the briefing, he throws a high sign to the heavy weapons
specialist. "Morris, I'll need the keys the The Bitch's resting
place," he says, referring to his smartgun. Morrison acknowledges
with a slight nod, still studying the computer generated duty
schedule on his clipboard.
Berliner raises his arm customarily. "Give us squad assignments. I want to know who to bribe before we drop in."
Moore takes control of the briefing at this point, dismissing McKenzie and Sabo both to their duties. The soldiers launch sweaty
punches at each other's shoulders as they go.
"I haven't talked it over with Brimstone yet," says the sarge, giving his corporal a mock salute. "I'll Anchor, let her Bravo this time. I need Morrison for the sentries, and don't much care who else I have, as long as I don't have to put up with Vitelli."
Brimstone turns to Vitelli with a wicked smile splitting her face. "I guess that means your ass belongs to me." Then she's back to the sarge, saying, "Vitelli, and I can run the mutt squad and see if I
can't whip them into shape."Fleming wraps this things up and sends you to work with a
word: "Dismissed."
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