It's funny, really. No one ever really tells you the cost of any grand new undertaking or mission. How much you will sacrifice in blood, sweat, tears, raw emotion, and in some cases, actual lives. In the meetings and committees held in the places of power, where those with more political skill than sense debate grand concepts and budgets back and forth, settling on some middle ground that seemingly makes everyone happy. In reality, a few benefit, the rest are told it was a great step forward for them, and they all applaud, wearing fine uniforms, cutting ribbons and thundering on their podiums about the future. It is rare that they actually believe in any great undertaking, but then again, that could be her pessimism talking. As Vice-Host, Claws of Maroon had command over the severely restricted military, and had been subject to arrogant ridicule and rhetoric of the scientists who now dominated their government and culture. Some of the old guard at least listened to the cases she and the other Hosts and Vice-Hosts made, and responded as was proper in a debate, even one tread through a thousand times. Most of the others made it seem like the military was an out-moded idea, soon to be scrapped in favor of a future only their new breakthroughs could accomplish.
Bunch of young cocks, not understanding just what had transpired over eighty years ago, when the generation before them gave so much to ensure they could have as much as they have now and to conveniently forget it all. For them to decry any shifting of funding or attention from them and their shiny new toys, or the endless machine of the corporations. No, borrow from the defense of the now and future generation for the theoretical progress of the infinite. When the Ternion has summoned her and Beak of Cyan, one of the Head Scientists of the Rising Claw Foundation, she had expected yet another tired debate and further affirmation of her hatred for government and the culture their system had produced. She had been pleasantly surprised, for once, for them to be offered commanding positions, although Beak was in command, in a new project they were commissioning. It would appear that the constant raiding by pirates and raiders, plus news pouring in from galactic and national networks had finally begun to open their eyes that something had to be done, to ensure their continued survival and prosperity.
Of course, as with anything, it was done in half-measures; it wasn't an expansion of the military, it was the formation of a galactic aid task force, to go and aid the meek, the hungry, the sick and the dispossessed, to offer actual succor to the refugees and beyond in a galaxy that saw their existence as a nuisance at best, and an affront at worst. The Grand Moot had only agreed to compromise on half of the proposed budget every year for this project, which meant they would have to make very hard choices on certain areas and operations due to supply levels being an issue. Further, they were to be independent of the Directorate; they would be given large support monetarily and logistically. Any bases friendly to or owned by the Directorate they could resupply at, but otherwise it was a hit or miss game; they still didn't understand making deals with other powers could alleviate that situation. So if any conflicts or issues came up, they would have to be settled by them; of course, there was an option to call in Directorate forces for help...but that would put the nail in the coffin for this effort and it would be scrapped and removed as too dangerous. They were to be politicians and diplomats, doctors and scientists, traders and smugglers, all into one. She knew many of the recruits would be young and bright-eyed, ready to go make a difference and not understand just how many people they would have to leave to die on the table of political compromise.
Still, while a pathetic half-measure, it was a step in the right direction and the Ternion actually united behind an international effort for once was refreshing and there were many in the galaxy who needed help and had been denied it for so long. Plus, it got her away from all of this mess and gave her room to breathe. She had agreed shortly into the conversation; Beak, to his credit, had to be convinced since he was working at the edge of the medical field and had many projects in the air that would have to be put on hold or given to others. A promise of his own ship for experimentation and development calmed him and brought him on board. They were given the briefing by both government and military officials; one telling of every cuff and restriction they had to follow, the other offering all of the short cuts and offers to help as possible. The military took care of their own, even when the government didn't. At the end, they had been left alone to muse and think for that awkward period when a project was just getting started. Surprisingly, Beak turned to her and began to speak, his mouth clacking firmly to get her attention, startling her from her reverie.
“Vice Host Claws of Maroon, I understand this is a lot to take in, but I feel we should discuss this venture, seeing as we shall be working together, you and I.” Talons set aside a holographic report, detailing the supplies and budget given, always never enough, no matter how much they squeezed from the populace, and directed her attention to him, drawing herself up and her indifferent military persona. The puffbeaks always liked to establish their authority early, reminding the military of their place.
“A commendable idea, Head Scientist. What are your thoughts and plans for this venture? I'm sure you are excited about all the new developments in wait for you.”
The other blinked for a moment and then uttered a trill of disappointment. “Now now, there is no need for such condescension, Vice-Host. I know you must be ruffled from dealing with all the young and hungry scientists, but there is no need to view the field of medicine so harshly.”
A brief shudder through her, hidden by her uniform, kept her surprise hidden as she replied. “I meant no offense-”
“Lying is not becoming of a military officer. Besides, I am more in agreement than you think; I cannot tell you how many times I have had to crush some upstarts dreams because he refuses to think beyond what he /can/ do, not what he /should/ do.” Blue-green eyes stared into her own as he continued to speak, calmly as if it was another lecture and not laying her open like a book.
“Your military institution has long sought this sort of venture, though continually frustrated as it is by our system and the long memories of our leaders. I can understand you are hopping foot to foot about this but try to contain yourself. I am only here to help, as I have always done. I did not choose the medical field for its wide array of benefits and pay; it is the most forgotten of arts until a plague or disease comes along, then we are 'rock stars' as the youth like to say, for a time. I chose it so I could help others; originally that was for Tezekians and Oozori. But this is simply an expansion of that concept. I'm a healer at heart, scientist second.”
Gathering herself, Claws leaned forward, sliding a talon over a screen to open up the refreshment container. “...You say you understand our..distaste for the current system and situation, so do you intend to actually heed my advice rather than run the entire show?”
A brief attack of cawing burst from Cyan as he laughed, holding a hand to his chest to steady himself. “My my, you are a bitter one, but at least you are honest now. No, Vice-Host, I do not intend to command everything; My skills are focused on medicine and the application of scientific thought and technology to it. While I expect you to follow my directives when handling patients, quarantines and other such operations, I do not pretend to want to command all of it. In my mind, I shall be letting you handle most of the affairs.”
A pause. “And you are serious about that?”
A talon ran through his fading but still colorful plumage, a rainbow of colors but heavily dominated by cyan hues that hung like a crowd on his head. “Of course! I know nothing about military strategy, or international politics and diplomacy. You are far more trained in that than I; I expected to work in my lab at the Foundation for the rest of my life. My people skills are a tad lacking at this point, as you may have noticed.” A trill of amusement as he lifted the drink she had poured for him to his beak and took a draught. Taking one for herself, she chewed on his words for a moment, considering as he idly picked out lint from her blue and white uniform, shining the medals out of nervous habit. A project where she could actually work rather than kow-towing to a lesser; what a new idea, as sad as that thought was. It seemed like a division of responsibilities was in order, he would handle the actual mission of the group, while she took care of the management and procurement. Her talons clenched in her gloves and shoes as she thought of the possibilities. If she could pull this off, she could offer a lot of political capital to the military's push for reforms.
“I can agree to your management of the operations and situations involving medicine, disease and other medical trials. However, should situations turn hostile, military or involved a greater perspective, I insist that command shift over to my talons and that it is supported should any object.”
Beak clapped his hands together in excitement. “Now we're getting somewhere! That is perfectly acceptable; after all, are we not taught that efficiency is a truly Tezekian trait?”
Maroon was long a critic of the scientific culture and would always bear distaste for the foundations, but she found she may be able to come to like this scientist. Time would tell, however; she had been fooled before. Their conversation continued for several hours more, debating and refining their roles even as they were getting prepared for them. As they continued to hash out their working relationship and the direction of the Sanctuary project, outside the engineers and technicians of the Directorate were handling the final checks and preparations for the force of ships that would make up the Isabelline Sanctuary. There were fifteen military vessels total that would be handling the defense and protection of the fleet, two Rise-class Cruisers, 3 Talon-class Destroyers, and Cutting-Gale-class 10 Corvettes, and accompanying them would be a logistical fleet of over forty five logistical, research, and medical vessels. Amongst them were two massive hulks of steel that were the form of the Titan-class Planetary Assault Dreadnoughts, the vessels of the Mandate brought into service for the navy. They had been gutted from being the armored titans of space and invasion, their internal stores of troops, ammo and drop pod delivery systems and replaced with supply rooms, nano forges, production facilities, agriculture and hydroponics. Weapons, supplies, tools, clothing, food and such could be produced, vital liquids and materials like water, medical chemicals and such were also available via detailed and advanced facilities, but they had only so much room and power for them. They also required a lot of materials, materials they only had so many of, and if they wanted to fulfill their mission, they would have to get a lot of these advanced materials and molecules off the galactic market or from nations they were helping. When not mining it from unclaimed or ravaged systems. Waste not, want not.
A legion of workers in boost packs and zero-gravity suits were flitting over the superstructures of the vessels, putting the final touches on the vessels. True to their name, they were being given a paint job of pale grey-yellow, with the symbol of a bird's head and beak to represent the Sanctuary. They would be distinct in mission and visuals from the Directorate's own forces, clear for all to see. There was a blitz of traffic as cargo freighters were loading and off-loading supplies and people. The local docking companies were having a ball, being paid top government credits to handle this whole affair, which had been cooking ever since the piracy crisis started kicking off in the rest of the galaxy. The military gave the Ternion and the Moot a lot of trouble for their refusal to adapt with the military, but they had been making plans on how to handle the situation without resorting to military violence and had started gathering for this effort once the decision had been made. Some would call it a half-measure, others would say a first step forward; it was a matter of perspective. Beak and Maroon would eventually make their way aboard one of the destroyers, Shining Claw, gazing around at the architecture of the ship. For Claws, it was a familiar sight, having been aboard many of these, some when she was beginning her career in the Directorate Naval Forces; for Beak, it was an all new experience, which could be seen by the quick and jerky movements of his head and eyes, trying to take everything in and memorize it for study later. As they walked down the hall, soldiers woulds stiffen and cross theirs wing in saluting submission to their higher rank, which she would wave a talon and they would resume their work. If Beak was going to be honest to his word about leaving most things to her, then she was going to let it a show a bit; she walked slightly ahead of Cyan and had a firmer stance, while he gawked.
The Tezekian crewmates began to take in it and make little nods of understanding, their posture pace improving by the slightest of margins as they realized they would be in control. A little morale boost couldn't hurt at this stage. A squad of Oozori troopers were clanking past, pausing to gaze at her, their systems reading the coding of her uniform to represent her rank, before bowing their heads as one. To them, she gave a respectful click and watched them as they went about their patrol; the Oozori provided the bulk of their ground forces, and thus would be the bulk of their troops guarding, guiding, and defending their civilian members and supplies. However, anyone could tell the Oozori resented their status as protectorate and subordinate to a nation younger than they; the policies they had enacted had helped many of the concerns die down and keep things to a dull roar. However, if war reared its head and their troops began to die in large numbers, most of that would evaporate. It also didn't help much of the officer corps of the Navy and Army were Tezekian and had a bias towards them due to the First Stellar War fifty years ago. Something to remember when things began to go wrong out there in space, but it was a thought for another time. Shaking her head, she slid her hand over the security panel, the device detecting the implant in her hand that passed the check and slid open to allow them. The bridge crew had the guts of several of the systems open and available, making tweaks and upgrades in the final hours of preparation. When they heard footsteps, one cocked their head up, only to caw out an alarm.
“Officer on deck!”
They rushed to their feet to salute and stand at attention, and this time, Claws moved around to inspect the room and the bridge crew themselves. Like every Tezekian vessel, the design and architecture of the room and its devices were soft and curving, imitating their own experiences as avians in visual art and function. Over the machines not being repaired or upgraded, their soft milk white and pale blue covers hummed quietly as they projected their holographic displays indicating data and programs, or the controls used to interface with them. Those that were had their wiring and cases open to the world, the pale blue emanating from within, pulses of cyan energy coursing through every couple of seconds, like a heart beat. Her attention drew to the crew themselves, glancing over the crisp nature of their uniforms and stance, holding their position and salute with nary a twitch. Well-disciplined, like most in the military, but...her eyes noted the vibrant color of their plumage, the lack of grey in their feathers or their beaks. They were all so young, having recently joined the military as the government had opened up recruitment for this initiative since volunteers had not covered the required amount, so there was a lot of bright new faces in their midst. It was a step forward for them, as they had been asking for expansion but they were being sent on a medical task force, which would lead to grumbling and also it would be a pain to get them properly settled in for life as a soldier. Still, it was better than nothing; her inspection completed, she clacked her beak once.
“At ease.”
They relaxed and one of them spoke. “Ma'am, we apologize for the mess, but the new upgrades have been taking more time than estimated to properly synchronize with the computer systems.”
“Understood. I know the Foundations have unleashed a new array of upgrades on you all, some time overrun is to be expected. Just do the best you can to minimize that expenditure; the more time we spend here, the less time nations and groups out there have to survive. We need to start creating a network to get supplies and aid to those groups.”
“Yes, Vice Host!”
They returned back to their work as she turned back to Beak. “I imagine you'd like to see your facilities on one of the Titans?”
If a bird could smile, Cyan would have one that would be stretching the limits of his face.
*****************
Four months later
The Saramac System
Strange Happenings
The universe bent in on itself, a door of bright light and alien geometries appearing from what was once a quiet section of space to disgorge a fleet of ships, over sixty ships shot into the system. Some appeared to have had some recent repairs, with some spots having different colored metal, and some having marks from battle and asteroid fields. On the Rise-class Cruiser, the Tearing Beak, Vice Host Claws of Maroon stood on the bridge, looking at the screen in front of her, pale whitish-blue of holographic technology, as it began to come into resolution as the sensor net of the fleet began to activate and provide data. It had been a few months from their maiden voyage from the Directorate, and it had been a difficult time from the word go. While she had expected what was coming, many of the crew had been dismayed at the many instances of being told to leave, outright barred or even fired at from the more hostile or desperate nations. In addition, they had to fight off some very determined raiders and pirates since they were on the rise in the galaxy and had thought this convoy of unknown origin and seemingly light guard. Claws cooed in fierce pride as their weapons and training held and melted the enemy, driving them off. After, they had some good fortune to come upon a few nations willing to trade and effect repairs, allowing them to replenish and rearm, and make some contacts out in the black. The scientists and medical staff were finally able to stop climbing the walls of their labs and bays and were able to provide some help to the local hospitals and populations, enabling them to get a discount and some initial agreements that were sent back to the Directorate for review. They even had a deal to help one of the larger empires in their conflict, amidst some very restricting terms, but it was their first major breakthrough and managed to shut up many of the program's critics back home.
Now, they had received news of a civilization sending out a weak radio signal, asking for help from the “creeping cold”. They had managed to get information on it from a smuggler, who had offered to sweeten a deal with some information and Beak had put down his use of his superior rank to insist they take it. Claw had been prepared for a waste of their time, but even she was intrigued and concerned by this message. The voice had been weak, both from the static-filled signal and they had suffered several coughing attacks, indicating some kind of sickness. It would appear they were talking about a plague, but her military training told her that they knew too little to make that assumption just yet. Still, they had a job and purpose and this hit all the indicators to at least investigate. And so they had jumped from their berth at the friendly nation and had come to the Saramac system. Her attention was drawn when a beeping sounded from the screen in front of her and one of the bridge crew began to speak.
“We've finished scanning the system. It's single sun solar system, seven planets, but it would appear our signal came from the fifth one from the sun. And...” He seemed to trail off, eyes tightening as they looked over the data. The Vice Host tapped her seat with the edge of her talon, resonating in the room, a sign of her displeasure over the wait. The officer shook themselves and straightened up.
“It's hard to describe man, It's better as a visual aid.” A claw depressed and the screen in front of her reflected the planet in question and it immediately became clear why the officer hesitated as it was hard to understand. The image was blurry, and out of focus, but it still reflected a gray sky with dark tones from the surface, and one continent sized storm blur over one area. The officer continued to speak as she inspected it.
“We were able to increase our sensor strength through the deployment an orbital grid of probes to boost the yield but...we're only able to get eleven or two kilometers before we get nothing but shifting noise and shadows. We have no idea whats on the planet due to this, and what we have gathered of the atmosphere is confusing at best; there is a lot of electromagnetic interference. If we want to know more, we'll have to make landfall.”
Claws leaned back as she considered this while Beak moved up to place a hand on her chair. “Vice Host, we'll need to establish a base camp if we're going to help anyone. And if we want to find out more, we'll have to go down on the surface.”
“Head Scientist, I appreciate your dedication to the mission, but we have no idea if the air itself is breathable or is carrying the infection, if that is what we are dealing with here. Deploying ground team will be risking their lives when we don't know anything.”
Beak nodded. “I understand the concern, but we have contained suits for this reason, along with a small supply of powered armor for our veteran Oozori troops. Between those we can have a moderate force to establish a science outpost with proper guard; if we have any specimens or victims we need to bring up for more advanced treatment, we can put them in containment pods to be brought up and put in properly quarantined zones. If we are careful and take our time to follow protocol, we should minimize the threat; considering we haven't had much to do beyond drill both experienced and raw recruit in these drills, they have the discipline to handle this.”
Maroon clicked her beak. “My concern is the interference; any force that goes down beyond those 12 kilometers will have no way to give us direct communication. They will have to have a ship fly up to send out a signal to contact us. That will take a few minutes, which can be costly depending on what happens.”
The other closed his eyes a moment in introspection. “You are correct, that is one of the major risks of what I propose. However, our mission is provide aid and comfort for those who will be left abandoned by the rest of the galaxy, unknown or just apathetic to their plight. We are here, now and can do something; as long as we are careful, we can make a difference here just like the last port we were at.”
Maroon clicked in distaste but spoke to the officer.
“Have the expeditionary group form and make landfall at the closest point of civilization they can pinpoint. Have all member use self-contained suits and the military guard use the powered armor suits. Ready our cargo transports to prepare the modules for the base camp; we want the quarantine models to ensure maximum protection and containment.”
“Understood. Relaying orders now.”
Beak turned and began to leave, preparing to head this group. With him in charge, the Vice Host would have surety of protocols being followed.
As the call sounded throughout the levels, workers, scientists, medical staff and soldiers began to prepared, gathering their supplies and suits to make landfall. They were subject to very quick, very short briefings, providing what information they had garnered while the fleet moved into orbital position for launch and improve sensor capability. The massive cargo transports were being loaded by mechanical arms with medical supplies, equipment, food, clothing, beds, blankets, all of the inventory needed for a outpost to handle patients and refugees. The Oozori garrison selected one of their most veteran platoons, thirty members, who were equipped with the contained massive suits of power armor, sleek designs with blank black faceplates, granting the user filtration and protection from the outside for chemical, nuclear and biological agents, enhanced physical abilities due to the suits capabilities, all powered by an internal cold fusion reactor. They were loaded onto a dropship, while the rest pulled on suits, not as enduring or protective but with systems and material to block out the outside air and have tanks providing untainted air that would have to be replaced. Once prepared, the deck workers finishing prepping the ships and then vacated as the doors opened to outside space, the air pumped out to conserve as much as possible, and began launching, met with a protective squadron of fighters from the groups that were even now patrolling around the fleet. As they were preparing to deploy, Maroon got an idea and opened up the channel to fighter coordinators.
“Flight Deck, have a coordinator send a squadron down to the surface to do a reconnaissance run, just so we know the local area of around ten miles. Have them pinpoint key structures, locations and points of interest and come back.”
A confirmation was given and the group of coordinators, cybernetically enhanced Tezekians who are each given command of a squadron, using a mind-machine interface to reduce the cost of lives lost in fighter on fighter combat and improve coordination and ability of the fighters. One of them took their squadron of twelve fightercraft down, breaking through the constantly shifting grey clouds, the visual and sensor feeds buzzing and twitching with static as they were buffeted by the field that was in place in the atmosphere. The coordinator watched carefully as the squadron burst through the cloud cover and came upon the actual world and surface, moving the craft closer to get as best view as possible and returned after twenty minutes of flight and multiple circles around before returning above the atmosphere to transmit the data. As Maroon viewed the footage, which was also sent to Beak at the gathering point for the expedition, they could see that much of the ground seemed to be...empty and leeched, as if color had been drawn from it, a grayscale filter placed over the planet. Some spots had some of the strangely rare signs of life, even former, with starved animals and wilting plants denied nutrients and sunlight. There were dilapidated roads and minor buildings, showing decay and lack of maintenance, leading up to city that was showing lack of heat, motion or any sign of life. Patches of life still remained, some areas still retained some form of color and life, albeit it was slow and clearly diseased by how they stumbled around. The center point of activity noticed was an old inn and farm combination that show life signatures and motion, a couple miles outside of the city. There was the noticeable fact the heat of the planet was well below livable conditions, save for some areas that still retained some struggling heat and color.
Maroon had the bridge crew relay this to all members and spoke.
“New orders: set up camp close but not too close to the survivor's location. Establish camp, test quarantine protocols and systems, establish a perimeter. Once complete, you are to make contact with the survivor group while other groups scout and check the areas here, here and here-” Maroon, indicated with drawn lines on the map with a talon of a giant crack in the ground that seems unnatural, the city, and a dwindling forest that still held life. -and then report what you find. New orders will be relayed then. Be safe and be careful.”
A chorus of ayes was sent as Beak took over command, ordering the ships to move through the atmosphere. The coordinator who had made the run guided them in and remained nearby, patrolling, as the ships came to a hovering stop above the chosen location. Dead, gray grass and vegetation was crushed into dust as the cargo bays open, unleashing a soft beam of blue light, and large containers began to be dropped reaching to the end of the beam before pods deployed on the structure, keeping it hovering just above the ground. The dropships carrying the personnel began to deploy their own cargo and workers, wearing their dark black and green suits moved to grab them and move them into position, sliding each piece into position and settling it on the ground, removing the anti-gravity pod structure and bringing over more, creating solid metal foundation for the outpost. Once it had been established, then larger boxes and containers began to brought down, proving to be modular sections for buildings which were unpacked and solidified into preset spots into the foundation, enabling easy installation and stability should tremors or other physical upheaval assault the outpost. A cold fusion generator was installed in the middle and the lights of the various buildings shot on, and with four long thing poles established on the corners of the base, strong but thin energy fields surrounded the entire outpost, and covered the doors of each building. Once this was established, the workers and scientists began to bring in the supplies and establishing the two labs, the medical bay, the quarantine lab and holding center that covered most of the outpost, along with basic living quarters, bathrooms and eating areas. As they were handling that, the Oozori platoon installed defensive turrets and shield positions, structures of metal and shielding that can be used to observe and provided defensive emplacements.
The process of setting up would take a few hours, as each system was tested, and inspected to ensure no bit of infection, aerial or otherwise, could get into areas without being allowed or massive power failure, which redundant generators and power sources were being installed to deal with. Scientists were already breaking into groups, botanists taking samples of the dead plants and ground along with any water source nearby, and preparing as team for the forest gathering task, while others began to run samples of the air into their labs to determine if the air was infected or a vector for it. The platoon was splitting into fireteams to cover the various tasks being assigned. One was being assigned to the forest expedition, one to the fissure, one to the city and one for the survivor's hold out, with the remaining two serving as patrol and guards for the outpost. Upon establishment, a communication station was set up and more probes sent out to began cataloging and trying to find more information, areas of interest and the like, boosting their sensor net. As the hustle and bustle settled down from establishment to preparation, a scientist came up to Cyan as he was looking through a holopad regarding some initial findings on the planet's ecosystem and status.
“Head Scientist, our sensor net just picked up a massive storm center to our west, it appears to be a hurricane or perhaps lightning storm of some kind, massive as it is around the size of a continent but we couldn't determine exactly.”
A disapproving click as he turned his attention on the novice scientist. “What is making it so hard to determine?”
The other seemed to pale a bit but held his ground. “We tried scanning from the outside, but the electromagnetic interference is even more fierce than the one surrounding the planet, we couldn't make any headway into it. Upon doing so, we sent a trio of probes, one after the other, to provide more information and...we lost contact shortly upon entering the storm and could not get any sign of their status and they are either cut off or disabled as they did not come back when called. Due to this, we felt it prudent to not sent anyone one yet. Further, it would appear the storm is slowly making its way towards us.”
A pause as Beak considered the implications. There were too many unknowns for what was going on here and he could understand the look in Maroon's eyes when she challenged his insistence on coming here. Ice pooled into his gut, just slightly, giving him a slight shiver as something in his brain reacted to the idea of this storm and the situation. He shook it off, however, he had experienced it many times and had discovered a rational reason for everything. He would find one here as well.
“How long until it reaches us?”
“By current speed and trajectory, we estimate a week. I do apologize if I overstepped, but I sent a request for the squadron to do more recon to the north away from the storms trajectory to find us a location to move to.”
Cyan cawed in appreciation and clapped the younger Tezekian on the shoulder, who jumped but seemed to be relieved at seeing the grateful and proud way his feathers moved. “Good initiative, young one! That is outside of strict protocol but it is what I would have said to do. Tell your team to continue monitoring the storm and record any changes or updates. I would like you to come with me to the survivors. I will need a capable assistant.”
The other gripped their pad and bowed deeply, almost falling over. “Thank you for the opportunity, Head Scientist!”
Ignoring the other man, he continued to look over the information and began moving again, the other gratefully hopping after, struggling to contain himself enough to send the message. After a few more moments, the Oozori guards were prepared, and hover transports were trotted out and four groups left the outpost, shooting in different directions to begin covering the ground as quickly as possible. Above, Maroon watched the planet, eyeing the massive storm and the general situation, staring as if she could eventually pierce the strange veil the planet had and hoping beyond everything her scientists and technicians could find a way to break through this interference. Anything could go wrong down there and she could find herself sifting through a corpse-filled base with the lag in time. She had established a policy of hourly updates required from the base, with the squadron flying up to report before heading back down. If it reached an hour and half with no report, she had a fully company of Oozori troopers ready to deploy in assault gear to conduct a search and evacuation. She had done all she could, but she still wished there was more she could do.
Bothered still, was the question on her and all of their minds:
What was happening to this planet and where did all of the people and life go?
