"Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past." - George Orwell
It didn't take long for the call to come back. The admiralty board had given the mission approval, priority level black. The rest of the crew had been briefed on what was about to happen and, as such, Krys gave Dean an order to temporarily cut off any outbound communications. Until they were sure one way or the other what was down there, they couldn't risk anything being leaked.
Over the years, Maya had been through her fair share of copilots, ranging from the sickeningly optimistic Quentin to the frustratingly stubborn Kensil. He didn't last very long. Her current ward was a young man by the name of Hawthorne. He was from Wales so they had gotten along well, despite the differences in their favorite football clubs. He was willing to listen and was a quick learner, surely the brightest mind she had ever shared the cockpit with. And even then, he wasn't her favorite copilot. Not even close.
That honor belonged to Simon and Lola, the toy cricket and hula girl that were attached to her control console. They had been with her from the beginning of her career, taking refuge in her footlocker at the academy and finally were able to live in the open once she had earned the controls of the Orleans. Simon, a cartoonish light green cricket with a goofy smile and big white eyes, was her favorite, although she'd never tell Lola.
Hawthorne had left to grab a bite to eat in the mess hall, leaving the three of them to listen to the mission briefing.
"Initial scans show the Normandy is resting at a 27 degree angle on the surface, making the main hatch more trouble than it's worth to get in that way, so we'll be using breaches in the hull here and here to access the interior of the ship," Rick said, his voice coming through the overhead intercom.
"27 degrees? It didn't crash did it?" Manny asked.
"From what we can tell, the only damage to the ship were the two hull breaches. The rest of the ship appears to be pretty well intact." Rick said. The translucent hologram projecting from Maya's console moved in time with his words, the small orange image of the Normandy's breaches indicated with red circles.
"Well...the weather couldn't have buried it. Moons have no atmosphere." Adriana added.
"Kozlov has a very thin atmosphere but we doubt wind is what buried it. The moon has a surface that's less dense than other moons." Krys said. "It acts like quicksand in certain places, which would be the easiest way to explain it."
"Is it still sinking?" Manny asked.
There was a brief silence. Rick answered, "We're not sure. If it is, it's happening at a rate we can't detect yet. It may have already bottomed out. Add that to the moon's slightly higher than normal gravity and we've got a potential hazard below our feet. We can't afford to take chances."
"Fire team will consist of Poscharsky and Alvarez, you'll enter through the breach on the Normand's hull. It should give you access to the cargo bay and hangar. If there was a crash landing, that's where some of the crew may have gone. You should be able to access the engineering deck, if not, wait for Smoke team to come down." Krys continued, "Smoke team will consist of Lieutenants Morgan and Lamarca, Caldwell and myself. We'll enter through the breach near the captain's cabin. Once though, we'll access the CIC, Morgan and Caldwell will try to restore power. Lieutenant Lamarca and I will continue on to the crew deck. Chief Greene will stay in the Kodiak and provide aerial reconnaissance. Objectives are to restore power, find the flight logs, search for signs of survivors and safely extract. Clear?"
There was a chorus of agreement.
"Alright, finish any prep. Meet at the shuttle in 15 minutes."
Maya smiled at Simon, "Here we go."
The shuttle bay of the Orleans was already a considerable distance behind them, Jher's matte finished, forest green Kodiak speeding toward the moon's surface. The moon as notorious for having space pirates hiding on it's dark side, waiting for freighters to ambush, so as not to attract any attention, the Kodiak would go in on it's own, the Orleans staying a fair distance from the moon itself but close enough to provide any help if things went awry. A powerful guardian angel watching over the handful of marines below. The Kodiak was filled to the brim with 7 crew members, including Jher. Everyone was wearing their breather masks, matching each of their colorful armors. Not much was said. But really, what could any of them talk about that could be more engaging than this?
"Switching to individual life support." Jher said, as the Kodiak swooped up and ran level with the surface of Kozlov. The terrain was covered with long rolling dunes of bluish purple sand, littered with more than a few sharp crags and craters from meteor impacts. He felt the inertia dampeners kick in as the Kodiak smoothly rolled down the side of one of the dunes and he pulled up, descended up a small cliff. "Approaching the crash site." He heard Krys move to the front of the Kodiak, standing behind his right shoulder. She stared out the front port at the sprawling jagged terrain, her brown eyes intense behind her mask's visor.
"Take it in slow." She ordered.
Jher pulled back on the throttle a touch as the Kodiak reached the top of the cliff and zoomed down into a long sandy plain. And there, at the far end of the plain, was the Normandy, tilted into the sand. Jher felt his stomach tighten, butterflies worked their way up to his chest.
"Holy shit, it's real." Nix said, joining Krys at the front. "I mean, of course it's real. I'm just saying, it's actually there..."
"Shut up, Nix. Fire team, get ready."
Manny and Lance moved to the door. Jher flipped a few switches. "Pressure equalized. Good luck." He said. The side door of the Kodiak slid open, moving into position near the hull breach, inching closer until the team could take a long step across. Sand scraped along the bottom of the shuttle.
"Good luck friend." Manny said to Nix.
"See you on the other side, amigo!"
Manny carefully stepped through the breach, found his footing and pulled himself through. He disappeared inside a moment before reappearing, gesturing for Lance to join him. The young corporal did so, and the shuttle moved away, gliding seamlessly up the side of the Normandy, Jher's expertly trained hands taking them toward the captain's cabin.
"Fire team in position." Krys said.
"Copy that." Rick's voice came from the Orleans.
"Did you see the scorch marks? Someone cut their way in." Dean said.
"Maybe pirates?" Adriana sounded skeptical. "Maybe Cerberus."
Dean shook his head, "If Cerberus found it, we would have discovered that intel a long time ago."
"Not if they wanted to keep it a secret."
"Hey, head up!" Krys interrupted. Jher positioned the Kodiak a few yards away from the opening on top of the ship.
"Ladies first." Nix said, gesturing toward the door. Krys shot him a look. One by one they filed out, the four of them gathering around the breach, peering inside. More black scorch marks around the edge.
Krys looked at each of them, "Stay sharp."
"Smoke team in position." Krys said.
"Copy that." Rick repeated. He stood with his arms crossed next to the CIC map, a holographic overlay of the Normandy projected in front of him. As he watched the tiny red triangles representing each of the crew move slowly and deliberately through the 3D holograph, he wished he could be one of the triangles. What a weird thought.
The Normandy. The greatest ship the Alliance fleet had ever known. Just below him on the moon's surface. One day, even though it wouldn't be today, he wanted to set foot inside the hull. To feel the history and honor of such a vessel surge through him like a wave of electricity. Even the thought made his arm hair stand up. Who knew what this could mean to the morale of the Alliance, even more so, the entire Galaxy itself.
Dr. Carlyon exited the elevator to his left, her black hair pulled tightly into a bun. She stood next to him, crossing her arms the same as his.
"How did surgery go?" he asked.
"He's alive anyway." She answered dryly, staring at the holograph.
"That's...good."
"I agree. I like it when they survive."
"Rick, I'm picking something up on my scanners." It was Jher. "South, southeast of the Normandy. It's faint, keeps coming in and out. Not sure what it is, no visual yet."
"Keep an eye on it." Rick answered.
"Pirates?" Carlyon asked, finally breaking her gaze.
He glanced at her, biting his tongue. Wouldn't that just be perfect? Squashing a band of space pirates sounded like fun, but it was the last thing they needed at the moment. Rick turned his attention back to the map, silently urging his comrades to quicken their pace.
