----
4. Scientific or technologically-valuable material or objects, if possible, must be collected/retrieved for further research purposes.
5. If there are to be native societies or unique ecosystems on the new wold, interference is prohibited and should be avoided unless authorized by the OIC.
----
Dust flies away from the below the Black Hawk as gusts of wind from the its rotors push down on the surface. The sky is already dark- although the western horizon still has a hue of the fading sunlight as the Black Hawk touched down on the landing zone; a hastily flattened dirt field, with temporary tents set up on one end for mechanics to store their things and occupy during duty.
I step out of the Helicopter along with Chappy. The helicopter rotors had just started to die down when a group of twelve personnel in full MOPP suit run to us and start to offload the wounded locals to stretchers.
One of them approaches me, the two bars on his collar denotes him having the same rank as I do.
"Captain Hoyer?" He asks. Voice muffled behind his mask.
I nod. "Yeah, that's me."
He looks at Chappy and another one of his guys who is talking to the pilots. Then back to me before speaking. "I'm Captain Wright, Chemical Corps. You, your teammate and the pilots has to come with us for sterilization and decontamination."
A CBRN unit? Well, it would seem they're up-sizing the operation by adding more specialized units. And the higher-ups, understandably, are not taking any chances.
"Chappy, we gotta move. CBRN wants us checked." I say to him.
He stops with helping to unload the wounded locals and comes to my side.
Captain Wright nods. "Follow me."
The second helicopter is landing, and another team of CBRN guys are moving to unload the wounded. Captain Wright turns around and walks towards the exit of the landing zone, me and Chappy following right behind him.
I observe the base as we are about to exit. It has grown considerably since my departure almost two days ago; the communications center is now a modular building and no longer a tent with a tall radio tower beside it; the kitchen now has proper facilities and supplies (although the mess hall is still a tent with tables and benches beneath it); and the command center is no longer a hole in the ground with a grumpy, uncaffeinated major in it.
Well, the major is probably still there- but caffeinated and in a better mood.
Captain Wright's subordinate- a lieutenant- walks past us with the pilots following him. Chappy looks at them, confused.
"Wait, why are the pilots here? Who's going to fly out the locals?" He asks.
"We'll fly them out once we confirm they're safe." Captain Wright replies, not bothering to look back.
"If they aren't?"
Captain Wright stops in-front of the entrance of a modular, and turns to reply. "Then we'll extract the rest of your team and handle the locals appropriately."
The implicit meaning of the reply visibly troubled Chappy. And if truth be told, I shuddered a bit at the callous response too. But this is our line of work, and we can only steel ourselves for the things that come with it- though some do so better than others.
"Let's get inside." Captain Wright says before opening the door- the stickers on it saying 'Chemical Corps- Decontamination' and their unit insignia and a chemical hazard sign printed on the side.
We follow him into the modular. As I enter, the smell of a sterilized air immediately fills my nostrils; and the sight of a room full of CBRN equipment and personnel greets my eyes. I recognize the pair of shower-box-looking things in the middle of the room; A SOCOM Mobile Decontamination System or MODS as they call it.
"Everything is set up?" Captain Wright asks into his comms. Barely audible through his mask.
One of the CBRN guys give a thumbs up beside the MODS, Captain Wright nods to him before and facing us. "Alright, good to go- you all know the drill." He says as he wait for us to move.
Chappy and I walk to the center of the room. There, a CBRN personnel looks at the panel on the door of each of the MODS before opening them. And then turns to us and gestures us to get inside.
I step into the MODS, the CBRN personnel closes the door behind me. I stand and wait for the jet of decontaminating liquid to spray from the sides. The alcohol-like smell inside the MODS chamber assaulting my nose for a moment before the cold and odorless decontamination liquid sprays all over my body.
Outside- CBRN personnel and Captain Wright are keeping a close eye to the equipment, readings on the panel, and making sure that the MODS is running normally. The personnel right outside the MODS signals us to close our eyes.
Next, the chamber is put under UV light as thousands of sensors meticulously inspect every area of my body for any foreign organism. I could only see the flashes behind my closed eyes as it did so.
A hot air is now blown into the MODS chamber for a few seconds, then the UV light flashed as sensors scanned my body one last time.
Seconds after the UV light turned off, I open my eyes. I see Captain Wright and the other personnel outside going over the readings. Moments later, Captain Wright gives a thumbs up to the personnel outside the MODS, who then proceeds to open up the chamber.
Stepping outside, Captain Wright makes his way to me. I turn to face him.
Handing me my clearance papers, he speaks. "The major wants you to report to his office."
I look to him "Where's that?" I ask, taking the papers from his hands
"It's behind the command center, second modular to the left." He says before turning to Chappy.
"Lieutenant Gomez, you are to be on standby in your team barracks, building B-8, fifth modular left of the kitchen."
Chappy nods. "Yes sir."
Captain wright turns back to me. "Well, that's everything. You two are free to go." He says before walking back to the MODS control console.
I turn and nod to Chappy, he nods back and then we walk to the exit with him following behind me. Opening the door, I see that night-time has taken over the base as we were inside.
The two Black Hawks on the landing zone are still there, with more CBRN guys all over it with their equipment. Chappy noticed it too before cursing under his breath.
"Let's move." I say, not wanting to Chappy to hold up looking at the choppers.
As me and Chappy walk through the base, I notice things that confirms my assumption that the operation has been up-sized; people from different units than those present two days ago are walking around the base; trucks are often moving through the road with construction materials behind them; and that are more modular buildings with their occupants just starting to get set up.
Chappy and I split ways at the crossroads in-front of the mess hall. As he moves to the barracks, I keep myself occupied by repeating where the direction to where the major's office is in my head.
"Left, second modular behind the command center. Left, second modular..."
I stop the chant as I reach the major's office. Moving to the door, I knock on it and wait.
"Come in." The major's voice comes from inside.
I open the door and step into the office; the smell of coffee tickles my nose.
The modular is grey both inside and outside, it has a small windows on the wall, and one at the end of the room right beside where Major Degarmo is typing on his laptop behind his desk. He arrived here on the first day of the operation and thus had time to organize his folders and paperwork neatly into cabinets.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Sir." I straighten myself and give a salute.
The major; a mustache sporting man in his late forties looks at me from his laptop before gesturing to the chair in-front of him. "Take a seat Captain."
I move to his desk and then sit myself down on the metal chair.
The major stops typing and reaches down. The sound of a drawer being pulled out is heard before he retrieves multiple sheets of paper and puts it on the desk.
He grabs a pen from his stationary container and gives them to me before speaking. "Bring this back to the barracks and have your team write down everything that happened after we lost stable radio connection till the first batch of wounded locals were flown back to the base. We do have the radio transcript, but the lieutenant-colonel wants more than that as cross-reference."
I take the report sheets. "Lieutenant-Colonel who sir?"
The major leans back on his chair. "Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes came here a few hours after you left, along with all the new units that you've probably seen earlier. He's a competent one as far as I know. Hell, the day a black operation gets commanded by a dumb ass is the day I seriously consider retirement- not that I'm eligible yet anyway."
I puff out a chuckle. "Hooah sir."
"Hooah." He nods. "I'll send someone to collect the papers at twenty-three-zero, and then again to call you for a debriefing soon after. So prepare your team for it. Dismissed."
I stand up. "Yes sir." And then saluted.
I exit the modular and backtrack my way to the road in-front mess hall. The mess-hall, kitchen, and their surroundings are busy and packed with personnel coming in for dinner. There, I meet Romero and Jackie who tells me about the CBRN guys taking them back to base.
"They were setting up a medical station there." Romero replies to my question about what the CBRN guys were doing when they flew back.
Jackie speaks up next. "The locals were freaked out by their gear and all, but we managed to not get anybody stabbed or shot."
Well, that could've gone worse. I think before nodding. "Good. The higher-ups are curious about them- but they won't think twice about getting rid of them if they turn to be a problem."
"Wont we all?" Jackie says.
Romero turns to us, with a serious look and with an equally serious tone spoke. "Chappy will. That Captain Wright guy told us that it might get him in trouble."
We were silent for a moment. And then I spoke up. "At least it didn't turn into Columbia again."
They both grunt out in response.
"Yeah..."
"Uh-huh..."
Minutes later, we reach our barracks and open the door- no need to knock when entering you own house. And see Chappy and Hobo sitting on a chair and lying in a bunk.
"Whatcha got there sir?" Hobo asks mockingly as I enter and he sees the report sheets.
"Something where you can write the dumb shit you did when you were Rangers." I reply, throwing one of the sheets onto his face.
He curses as he grabs it and starts to look for a pen to write with.
"Hey, doc, what happened to the medevac for the locals?" Chappy asks after Romero sits down on an unoccupied bunk.
Romero pulls out his pen and extends his hand to me for a report sheet while replying. "Guys from chemical took over. They're building a medical station in the village don't worry."
Chappy nods, satisfied with the answer.
The next minutes were spent filling out the report sheet and recapping with the team, making sure we're all on the same page.
A knock soon sounded from the door. I open it and is greeted by a lieutenant who is asking for our report sheets- which I immediately gather from my team, then hand over to him. He then leaves and we sit back down and wait.
Thirty minutes pass and the team is getting bored- and hungry.
"Hey, let's grab a bite or something. I'm starving." Hobo says.
"Yeah. We've been eating MREs for the past two days- the kitchen smelled like beef when I went past it." Chappy adds.
Jackie was about to say something, and I was almost ready to agree to getting some steak or jerky when the door sounded again with a knock.
I get up from the Bunk that I was sitting on and open the door. It was the same lieutenant out front, but this time he's here to inform us that we are to head to the lieutenant colonel's office for debriefing.
"We don't know where that is." I say.
"Then follow me sir." The lieutenant replies.
I look back into the room and to my team. "Hey, we gotta move."
Jackie grumbles as he jumps down from the top of the bunk. "Goddammit, I wanted some jerky at least."
We gather ourselves before following the lieutenant back to the lieutenant-colonel's office. Which is actually just across the Major's, and one modular closer to the command center.
The lieutenant stops outside the office and gestures for us to go ahead and come in. I nod to him and he gives a salute before walking away.
Opening the door, I notice the chairs, white screen, and the lieutenant-colonel sitting behind a desk and the major beside him.
"Take a seat team one." The lieutenant-colonel; clean-shaven black man that is either in his late forties or early fifties says when we all enter. Hand pointed at the conveniently placed chairs.
Me and my team each grab a seat, with me naturally taking the one in front as the team leader.
The lieutenant-colonel then nods to the major, who then turns to his laptop and starts the debriefing presentation. The lieutenant-colonel gets up and walks around and to the front of his desk.
He straightens himself up, placing his hands behind his back. "I'm sure the Major has already told you about me. But if not, I am Lieutenant-Colonel Terry Hughes. And I am the current OIC of this operation as a whole."
He then turns to the screen, the major switching the slide to a timeline.
"This timeline here shows the series of events that happened shortly before you were cut off with our communications, and when you were flown back to base. This timeline has been put together via radio transcript and written reports by you."
Me and my team sit in silence as we listen to the lieutenant-colonel. He transitions to another slide- a chart of our two-day reconnaissance trek.
"At eighteen-hundred hours we receive your last clear transmission stating that you have spotted a native settlement and are moving in to observe. The reports that you all have written and transcript from Captain Hoyer's transmission states that he ordered Sergeant Holt and First Lieutenant Corley to stay behind and provide overwatch while he brings First Sergeant Romero And Sergeant First Class Min to get a closer look."
The major fiddles with his laptop some more, and then one-fourth of the slide is occupied by the timeline from earlier. The lieutenant-colonel continues.
"At eighteen-two-zero, Sergeant Gomez reports movement in the forest across of the settlement. To which Captain Hoyer proceeds to observe from his forward position with difficulty. Then, at around eighteen-four-zero hours, a seemingly new faction of natives emerge from the treeline and soon proceeded to attack the locals of the settlement." The lieutenant-colonel turns to my team. "Is this timeline correct?"
"Yes sir." We affirm in unison.
He then then looks at me. "Captain Hoyer, would you please stand up."
I aptly do as I am told and raise myself from to an attention. As I stand, I feel my stomach in a way that makes me wish I just let the team grab a jerky before the lieutenant came for us.
The lieutenant-colonel looks at me in the eye. "Captain Hoyer, your next course of action was to interfere with the ongoing conflict in the settlement despite directive five. Why?"
I breathe in. Here it goes.
I hold on to our eye-lock as I reply. "Initially, I refused to interfere with the native conflict in accordance to the fifth directive of the operation. But through additional information and personal observation, me and my team spot the settlement locals displaying unique abilities but in small numbers. I deem that the unique abilities are valuable for scientific research and as their numbers are threatened , I acted on the higher directive number four. Thus, committing my team in the interference of the native conflict."
The lieutenant-colonel's next question made me freeze. "That is understandable captain, but why did you opt to bring all the survivors back to base?"
I could hear some of my team clear their throats or cough quietly in discomfort.
The worst thing you can do in a debriefing is lie.
I maintain my posture as I reply. "To provide humanitarian aid for the locals and collect local information."
The lieutenant-colonel keeps his stare level, then shakes his head and walks towards me till he is only a short distance away.
He leans over and speaks. "We are not the UN to have humanitarian aid as a valid reason. Though your second answer could've been a acceptable reason as to why you brought along survivors- like six or seven. But twenty-two is just going to strain our limited medical supply. Do you understand what this could cause in an emergency?"
Our own personnel could be subjected to limited care because the current facilities are occupied by the wounded natives. The scenario flashed in my head before I reply. "Yes sir."
The he leans back, my eyes no longer follow his but is instead staying straight ahead. Internally I was trying to figure out what the consequence of my actions would be. My team stays silent behind me.
The lieutenant-colonel breathes in. "It just so happens that the brass back at the Pentagon are really interested about the locals and their abilities. So much so that they've instructed us to start preparing and finding a way to communicate with any relevant native organization. But were it not for that, you and your team would've been back on the other side for re-evaluation."
I subtly breathe out in relief. The lieutenant-colonel continues.
"Look. Before you all think I'm a psychopathic ass remember that a mistake could cost the lives of the people here, and possibly even threaten those on the other side. That's what I'm trying to prevent from happening. So I urge you and your team to be more careful." He then sweeps his view across me and my team and asks. "Are we all clear?"
"Yes sir!" We respond in unison.
He nods and salutes. "Good. Dismissed."
My team and I got up to our feet to return the salute before heading outside. The sky is filled with stars, brighter and clearer than what I've seen before...
...And our noses are whiffed with the smell of steak from the kitchen.
"The lieutenant-colonel sure is scary." Hobo remarks.
Jackie nods. "Yeah... for a moment he seemed to be like..."
Not that shit right now.
"We don't talk about him." I turn around and cut Jackie off.
Jackie stops and raises his hand in-front of him. "Woah, woah Fly, yeah, I- I know we're not allowed to say his name, but I wasn't going to."
I shake my head. "It's not about that."
Romero cuts in between us.
"Alright, so why don't we all just head down to the mess hall and grab something to bite before the POGs eat it all first?"
The world seem to pause for me for a moment. But I breathe in and close my eyes. Fuck, that shit really gets to me.
I open my eyes moments later, and nod my head. "Yeah, sorry man. That shit just gets to me."
I feel a hand on my shoulder, I look to see Chappy nodding to me.
"It gets to us all." He says.
I stare at him before returning the nod. It's something that this team shares.
"Hey hey hey hey, you're leaving the team's number two out of a team moment?" Hobo speaks from behind Jackie.
I chuckle and flip him off.
He pretends to be offended by my gesture and puts his hand over his heart. "Oh, Oh! So that's how it is! Tell you what, I'm going to tell the cooks that I'm ordering for the whole team and then not giving a bite of the food to you sunsovitches!" He says before running off towards the mess hall.
I shake my head as I watch Hobo run. "Dumb ass can't do that. I have all of our..." I stop as I feel for the coupons in my pockets.
Sonovavich.
"Shit, Hobo has our coupons!" I exclaim, much to the horror of the team and the attention of the people near us.