Chapter One
May 2506 - Proto Star Burham Sector, enroute to Miranda.
Lieutenant Jay Curran was pensive. C57D, a fourteen person survey ship on a routine survey mission? Missin'? Out here, at the ass end of the 'Verse? Sure, that's usually where survey missions go, but why here, and why now? There are plenty of planets and moons closer to civilization that ain't had a full survey.
The tall and muscular 26 year old native of New Melbourne, and currently an Alliance Navy SEAL Team Leader, wondered why this required a SEAL Team.
The elite Teams were far too special in nature, and few in number, to be used for a simple search and rescue mission.
The mission had a powerful smell, no doubt about it. Miranda. Something tweaked a distant part of Jay's mind. Somethin' about hand picked people for a new colony? Was that here? Why hide it? He shook his head. It ain't right.
And yet, here they were, an Alliance Navy SEAL Team, call sign "Bad Karma", on a Fenris class assault transport, call sign "X-Ray", sneakin', of all things into Miranda, a supposedly harmless planet. That ain't the only thing that stank. Their current base ship, the Alliance Heavy Cruiser Dortmunder, was no where to be seen. In fact, the hun dans were all the way back at Lilac, gorram it! So much for support.
This just didn't smell, it ruttin' reeked. It don't add up, and Jay had the feeling his Team was in deep go se.
An hour later, Miranda, standard orbit.
"Sir, we've established standard orbit, but…" the pilot of X-Ray. Steve Chang, commed to Jay, "this ain't a fresh world, nor no survey colony. I'm readin' a wide range of electromagnetic energy sources, and enough for a few decent cities. Everythin' from domestic type Cortex feeds to high band Alliance radars."
Rushin' up to the cockpit, Jay was mighty alarmed. "Shuh Muh? You sure?"
"Yessir", the pilot replied, "we're not equipped for detailed scans, the signatures are definitely there, only…"
"What is it Steve, out with gorram it!"
Steve checked his glowing displays, for the third time. "This ain't right. The signature's are there, lots of 'em, but power levels are way low. It's like the lot, everythin', is on but not active. It don't make no ruttin sense!"
"I'm gettin' major heat blooms on the infra red sensors" chipped in the co-pilot. "Awful lot of fires down there."
Yeah, it stinks, thought Jay. This ain't what should be here, but it is what it is. Ta Ma Duh – that's why we're here. Somethin's either not supposed to be here, or somethin' awful's happened, and we're about to find out what.
"Any sign of C57D? Any beacon or anythin'?" Jay asks the pilot.
The reply is immediate. "Not so far, once we complete our orbital sweep we'll know more."
Jay's brow furrowed, "Deploy an atmo probe for a full NBC sweep, passive sensors only, I don't want no one to know we're here. I got me a bad feelin' that if we're spotted, we're humped".
"Aye Sir" an increasingly worried Steve replied.
Two orbits of Miranda later.
"Sir, telemetry results from the atmo probe are in", the co-pilot, Mike Sheppard, reported to Jay.
"Shiny, what's the good word?"
"No Nuclear radiation, no known Biological or Chemical contaminants apart from higher than normal levels of carbon dioxide, prolly due to all them fires…"
Well, that's a gorram relief thought Jay. Mike suddenly went pale, and Jay waited for the other shoe to drop.
"Sir," Mike looked like he was gonna be sick. "I took the liberty of gettin' some visual surface scans, here Sir, look."
"Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng!" Jay exclaimed. "Bodies…everywhere. Don't look like a battle. Any sign of what killed 'em?"
"Scans confirmed clear Sir, no signs of classic battle damage, fires and somesuch, sure, but everythin's mostly intact, otherwise. Ain't no known bugs showin' in the data.."
"Then it's unknown" Jay interrupted. "Still, we got ourselves a mission, and I aim to complete it. What about C57D's beacon?"
"Here Jay, that's the C57D." Steve said, bringing up a 3D map of a large spaceport which lie at the edge of the southern ocean. "Couple of dozen ships down there, all intact but dark. Everythin' from skiff's to mid bulks, hell even a couple a' Fireflies."
The C57D was lying near the edge of the spaceport, not where it should have been.
"They hit too hard, missed the proper landin' area" pronounced Jay. "Well lookee here, there's no bodies around her, or anywhere near by. Don't matter anyways, we gotta go take a look see for ourselves now it's getting' dark at the drop zone we can jump in quiet like and mebbe not be spotted.." Sighing, Jay called to his second, Lieutenant Junior Grade Dale Hawkins. "HAWKINS! Mission's a go, HALO jump, full breathing apparatus, air and ground, equipment check in 30 mikes, dong ma?"
"Wu dong Boss!" Hawkins replied. Calling to the rest of the Team, he yelled "Right! You heard the man, we're on the clock."
The team moved with purpose, checking weapons, parachute packs, oxygen masks and other equipment.
Totally unconcerned about the drop was Chief Petty Officer Billy Graham, the Team's Chief, or senior enlisted man. He was an old hand with the Teams, and after completin' his equipment checks he was happy to sit back and read his comic books on his portable Cortex, currently in offline mode.
One person though, more than the others, was worryin' over the jump, as he always did. Petty Officer Second Class Floyd Dane, callsign "God", was the Team's sniper – a great shot, but no fan of High Altitude Low Openin' parachute drops, especially in the fadin' light.
And, as he usually did, his friend Petty Office Third Class James Leary, the Team's corpsman, or medic, went over to him to help allay his fears. "How you doin'?"
Dane's response was to the point. "I hate jumpin' out of a perfectly good transport!"
Leary's response was equally pointed. "You don't gotta love it, you just gotta do it!" he remarked as he checked Dane's jump gear.
A short time later and all checks done. Jay was ready to rock and roll. "Steve," he commed to the pilot, "get us to the drop zone".
"Yes Sir" Steve replied as he prepared the Fenris to enter atmo and head to the DZ.
Soon after, they were at the correct altitude and approachin' the DZ, headin' into the dark side of the planet – and whatever the unknown situation was on the ground.
"Hey!" Petty Officer Third Class Homer Rexer said as he grabbed the arm of the loadmaster of the Fenris, "what's our altitude?"
"We're about thirty thousand feet, six miles up, you guys are crazy!"
Seaman Paul Ramos, communications specialist, smirked as he replied to the loadmaster "That's right, and proud of it baby!" and he shared a high five with Rexer as the loadmaster shook his head and walked back to the cockpit.
"Six minutes to drop zone" Steve commed to Jay.
"Six minutes" Jay repeated, as he went around to each member of his Team.
Each team member performed a final once over check as the minutes passed, before donnin' their full NBC protective helmets, complete with their own oxygen supply.
The shipwide comm blared into life with Steve's announcement, "OK gentlemen make sure ya masks are secure, we're beginnin' to depressurize. We are goin' to depressurize here."
The rear ramp of the Fenris can only be opened safely for the jump if the inner hull is depressurized, that means masks for all includin' the loadmaster, who began to lower the ramp as the ship completed the depressurization process.
Jay walked forward towards the now open ramp "Let's go" he said as he ordered his Team forward. All seven members of the Team now stood on the ramp, ready to jump. The site that greeted them was surreal, the Burnham proto star revealin' a beautiful sunset, whilst below large columns of smoke rose from the planets surface.
Suddenly Rexer came over the comm., "Jeebus Dane, who the ruttin' hell packed your shoot, it don't look too shiny, I wouldn't jump if I was you!" he said as he patted Dane's parachute pack.
With the final ritual over, the Team prepared to jump, only waitin' the signal from the loadmaster, who in turn was waitin' for the green light from Steve which designated they was over the drop zone.
"Alright gentlemen, stand by" the loadmaster commed, "on the green, on the green….5,4,3,2,1" he counted down as the red jump light turned green. "GO GO GO!" he yelled, giving the Team the clearance to jump.
And out they went, as a bunch, no hesitation, even from Dane, and soon they were falling towards the ground at a great velocity. As it's name suggested, a HALO, or High Altitude Low Opening parachute jump meant just that. Jump out at a high altitude, do not open your parachute until you're within spittin' distance of the ground. The use of this stealthy technique would hopefully enable the Team to hit dirt without bein' spotted – every second they delayed openin' their 'chutes would help them remain undetected by whatever the gorram hell was done there.
The Team hurtled towards the ground, Jay looked up to see the Fenris now just a speck in the distance as it accelerated out of atmo.
Soon enough it was time to deploy their 'chutes, but straight away it was apparent there was a problem with one of the Team, Billy Graham.
"Tzao Gao!" cried Billy as his primary 'chute failed to deploy properly.
"Ruttin' hell, Graham's got hisself a streamer!" yelled Rexer.
"Release, release Graham!" Jay yelled in horror. "Bale bale bale! CUT AWAY GRAHAM!"
With the ground rapidly approaching Billy managed to cut off his primary 'chute, but still hadn't deployed his back up.
Jay looked on helplessly as Billy fell towards certain death. "PULL OUT GRAHAM! PULL! PULL! PULL!" All seemed lost, but at the very limit, or perhaps even just beyond, Billy managed to deploy his 'chute and land safely, if very heavily. The big man was battered and bruised, but still good to go.
All the other members of the Team landed without incident, their all black uniforms blendin' with the night. They immediately hid their newly used parachutes, checked their breathin' gear, drew their weapons and headed towards the beacon position of C57D in tactical formation – determined to complete their mission.
The determination was tested almost immediately as eerie howls of pain and rage rang out occasionally from the darkness.
"Wuh de tyen ah, what the ruttin' hell is all that howlin'?" Hawkins asked.
Other Team members began to ask their own questions, unnerved by what they were hearing. The smoke filled skyline did not help their calm, no sir!
"Ni Men Dou Bi Zui" Jay exclaimed, "for Buddha's sake, focus on the mission. Ramos, how far?"
"Just the other side of that gorram wall over yonder" Ramos gestured with his silenced sub-machine gun, pointing to a wall just over 50 yards away.
With no effort at all, the Team scaled the wall, finally bringing the small survey ship C57D into full view, which lay askew covered in wirin' with a bent primary buffer panel, and lookin' little like its former self.
Hawkins was the only one to speak. "There she is."
Following standard operatin' procedure, the Team spread out to secure the site whilst Rexer and Ramos entered the small survey ship. The sight that greeted them was grim, dried blood splattered on the walls, and still wet pools of blood in various places on the deck of the ship. Other than that the inside of the forward part of the ship seemed mostly intact.
Being no stranger to blood, the two Team members remained focused on the mission. It took little time to check the small ship properly – no persons, dead or alive, remained on the ship.
Wastin' no time, Rexer reported to Jay the results of their sweep of the ship.
"No one on board, but whoever hit it stripped the ruttin' hell out of most of the engine spaces, main control room looks ok though…..'nother thing that don't make much sense." Rexer shook his head, a lot of that was happenin' this night!
Seein' the damage to the outside of the ship, Jay was sure what had happened. "Wang bao dahn yao Nu, took it out with a heat seeker. Billy! Ya'll picked up the trail yet?"
The best tracker on the Team, next to Jay hisself, Billy wasn't goin' to take too long to pick up the trail of the missin' crew.
"There were twelve hostiles. They took the crew from the ship. Took 'em northwest."
"OK, scout ahead and see what you can find." ordered Jay.
Progress was slow, it had to be. Although there were strangely no bodies in the area, the debris of buildin's, crashed skiffs, hovercars and the like was everywhere. They couldn't afford a misstep, but they wanted to be gone before daylight.
The eerie ass howling continued, gettin' closer, than father away, than closer again.
Jay was getting antsy his ownself. Whatever the hell was makin' these damnidable noises had to be connected to whatever had happened here. He could feel it deep in his bones.
"There" Billy pointed at a dilapidated buildin' over yonder. "Trail goes there, through those doors."
Suddenly, an all too human scream came from the building.
Through years of trainin' and teamwork, and with no time to waste, the Team seamlessly switched from search and track mode to assault and rescue mode.
"Leader this is God, I'm in position". Dane, Team Sniper, had found hisself a high spot coverin' the buildin' and the surroundin' area.
The remainder of the Team effortlessly moved into their assigned assault positions, using nothin' but hand signals.
Before Jay could give the signal to commence the assault, a shot rang out from inside the buildin'.
Chinese:
hun dans Bastards
go se Shit
Shuh Muh? What?
Ta Ma Duh Damn it (mild translation)
Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng! Frog-humping son of a bitch
dong ma? Understand?
Wu dong I understand
Tzao Gao! Oh crap!
Wuh de tyen ah Dear God in Heaven
Ni Men Dou Bi Zui! Everybody shut the hell up!
Wang bao dahn yao Nu Dirty bastards sons of a demon woman