"Protocol 9" Short Story - Part 1

Protocol 9
Year 2592 – A Seep Story

Captain Jason Trati yawned. He’d already given his portion of the report, but he was stuck, listening, until the end of the meeting. Bureaucratic nonsense… How the hell does this pass as an after-mission briefing. I wonder if they get paid extra if the meeting goes into overtime? Jason fought not to doze off as the comptroller droned on.
The intercom crackled to life, jolting everyone in the room. “Team Seven – Report to the hangar.”
“Sorry, that’s me.” Jason stood and saluted the superior officers. “Sirs.” His smile disappeared as he snaked his way to the aisle. We’ve only been back forty-eight hours; we’ve barely cleared the med-bay. Why are they sending us back in?
His commander, Colonel Kael Sunde met him at the door and patted him on the back sympathetically. “Such a face, if only you could see it.”
“Do you have any idea what this is about?”
“Nope, but I’m going to go find out. Start the prep, and I’ll try to get us a reprieve. I’ll contact you in about an hour, regardless.”
“Good luck.” Jason made his way to the bay his squad called home.
The mid-sized transport they used sat in acid-scarred glory near the outer doors. The team affectionately referred to her as ‘The Beast’, and she looked it. It was an older model air transport, blocky, ugly, but rugged, and it had kept them alive for close to fifty missions in the Seep.
Built to last. He smiled at it like an old friend and then noticed that Hallie June, their team Mech, was crawling out from under the ship. “Did you catch the call out, June?”
“What? Crap, I had plans. Well, it’s probably a good thing I figured out what was ‘rattle and hum’ during final approach.” She indicated a bin filled with scrap metal. “Those units are done; the corrosion has eaten through the filters, the rings, and the gaskets. I can’t fix them. I have no idea why no one spotted this during the last inspection. What the hell are they paid for?”
“I often wonder that, myself.” Jason patted the ship affectionately. “How long will it take you to install if I get you the parts?”
“An hour tops. The rest of The Beast is okay, but we’re pushing it. We can’t do another turn-around without completely servicing her; I’m talking full patch, diagnostics, screen replacement, and paint job. The shield coating is down to seventy percent... oh, and I’ll have to replace all of the Embri thrusters on the port side within the next month.” Hallie smiled, revealing an array of crooked teeth. “I hear that KMR and D’s prize prodigy had something to do with the new design, so I want the upgrade this time. No more of this second-rate crap; not if you want us to keep flying.”
“You actually trust the designs of a fifteen-year-old?”
“Yep,” Hallie said as she searched for her cigarettes.
“Fill out the requisition order, and I’ll file them for you.”
“All of the enviro-suits are shot.” The voice belonged to their Chief Med-Tech, Alfred Doncaster.
“I’ll draw new ones from stores,” Jason grunted as he added them to the provision list.
“Go military grade; the weather report says we’re due for ground mist and possible showers.”
“Yay.” Hallie cheered with mock-enthusiasm. “The drip torch looks fine, but add some extra E-size gaskets, just in case. Also, we’re running low on ammo for the big gun.”
“Expect the worst, prepare for the worst,” Jason added her requests to the list. “Any word on the shipment from Riva?”
Hallie snorted back her laughter in a distinctly unladylike fashion. “It’s over three months late; I think it’s cute you still think it’s coming.”
“The official word is the M’Kang got it in transit,” Alfred commented as he scanned the medication barcodes. “It would be best if we find another Cluster to supply us; Riva’s issues are only going to get worse.”
Hallie raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jason.
“Do you have anything to add to that rather cryptic statement, Doc?”
Alfred didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Sorry, captain. Rank has its privileges and its constraints. Take it as an informed suggestion.”
“You Korlo and your precious ‘Rank’,” Hallie muttered under her breath. “Maybe we should cut a deal with the M’Kang?”
“I’ll pass both your suggestions along.” Jason looked over the rappel cords and frowned. Half of the lines showed evidence of bend fatigue. We’re an accident waiting to happen.
Every unit was suffering the same thing though, there wasn’t enough of everything to go around, including people. Morale had been steadily deteriorating since the Council had reassigned fifty percent of the Farlen’s personnel and supplies to Horal Station in the Southern Seep.
Part of some new offensive against Clan Evora, no doubt. Jason frowned. Damn the Council; we’re search and rescue, not assassins. We’re supposed to be here assisting Burn Crews and research teams in the Seep, not gathering samples or killing—”
“Captain?” Alfred cleared his throat to get Jason’s attention. “We need to restock the med-bay as well.”
“Send me the list, Doc, I’m going to go and have a chat with the depot sergeant about bits for The Beast, first. Colonel Sunde should be here in about forty-five.” Jason stuffed his digipad in his pocket and left the hangar.

Colonel Sunde checked the time. Twenty minutes. The old bastard’s keeping me waiting on purpose. He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, then stood. “Any idea of how much longer the General’s going to take, Cali?”
“No, sir.” The secretary didn’t look up.
Kael yawned and walked over to windows. It wasn’t light yet, but you didn’t have to see the Seep to know it was there; its presence permeated the entire station. The Northern wall in the reception room was taken up with a massive map. It showed the foothills in Korlune, through the mountains, and across the massive drainage that flowed from the Eastern shore of Lake Evora to the Hotari Sea.
The Seep in glorious, yet fraudulent detail. Kael wandered over to admire it yet again. It’s doubled in size since this was completed. His gaze drifted to the corner where the team credits and date was listed. Not many Korlo names in those crews, they must have been slaves. He crouched and leaned in closer to read the date. Hard to believe they did this two hundred years ago. He shuddered involuntarily. They had no digi-link technology, no air transports, and no reliable communication, topside. He stood up and pictured the bulky enviro-suits they would have used. We’re soft by comparison. Kael knew the Seep for what it was; he’d walked in the verdant expanse of acidic vegetation, corrosive mists, and ever-changing sand bogs. He leaned in closer to pick out some of the red lines that denoted paths over stone. I wonder how many of those are still there?
He ran his finger up to the area they’d just returned from. No sign of the researchers. There had been no signs of life inside the deserted station; none of the common insects, no birds, just a thick layer of reddish moss growing out over the black sludge of the bog.
His digipad beeped. Kael answered it, opened the attached file, and skimmed the health reports of his team. He stopped when he got to Hallie’s results. Damn it; Arcosium. Kael signed off that he’d seen the report and tucked the device away. I’ll assign her to hangar duty after this run. I wonder who’s next?
“General Galen will see you now, sir.” Cali interrupted his train of thought. “Please go in.” She indicated the door.

The General looked up from his paperwork; the dark shadows under his eyes intensified his stare. “Sunde? Why aren’t you getting your team ready?”
“Sir, I respectfully request that you reassign this mission to another team. Hallie is sick. Vallen and Laros are both on leave, Sean is down with caustic burns, and—
“Would if I could, but I can’t. This could be another Protocol Nine mission, Kael, and your team is the only team I have left that can handle it.”
“Could be?”
“That will be your call on arrival.”
Kael’s headache began to build. “Which camp and how long since there’s been no contact?”
“Vorta Botanical. I’ll send you all the particulars once you’re airborne.”
“Sir.” Kael saluted and made his way to the common area, scanning for likely bodies to fill the empty seats in The Beast. He was not disappointed, he spotted two excellent choices playing Nova with one of the new recruits.
“Oh shit,” Tris Barris groaned when she saw the colonel. “I had plans tonight.”
Scott Roush sunk down in his chair, trying to avoid Kael’s gaze.
“Does this mean the game’s over?” Mike Sekkaro asked.
“Not until the pot’s off the table.” Scott peered over his cards. “I’ve got two solar.”
Mike frowned for a moment, studying his cards with a confused expression. “What does it mean when you have a stellium?” His innocent expression gave way to a grin.
Scott snorted and pushed the collection of winnings at Mike. “Game over.”
“Barris, Roush, and...” Kael paused and checked to see if there was anyone else to pick. There wasn’t. “Sekkaro, you’re with me.” He uploaded Mike’s file to read on the flight.
The three men rose and crossed the distance to where he stood, waiting.
“Meet me in the main hangar in fifteen, full personal kit, emergency rations for a week. Roush, make sure Sekkaro has everything he’ll need.” Colonel Sunde logged them as replacement crew and left to pack his gear.

The Beast arrived at Vorta just before dawn, and Colonel Sunde scanned the site from the air before he spoke. “Vorta Botanical’s last check-in was two nights ago. Captain Trati, Corporal Barris, and Private Roush, you’re with me. Doc, are there any signs of life, below?”
Alfred shook his head. “Scanners detected traces of blood, but not enough biomatter to be bodies. Three days wouldn’t be enough time for full decomposition to have occurred, even if the facility’s seals were compromised.”
“Since when does Clan Evora dispose of corpses?” Scott asked.
“They don’t,” Tris answered. “They leave them to rot in the open. I don’t see the bodies in the field down there.”
“I thought that was a M’Kang thing?” Mike stared down at the small clearing below them. He didn’t feel Hallie’s cold stare.
“M’Kang don’t dishonor the dead,” Kael silenced any further discussion. “Don’t believe everything you see on the newsfeed, Private Sekkaro. Alright, we’ve got work to do, starting with checking out the building. Hallie, don’t land until I signal.”
The four rappelled down and disappeared into the structure below. Five minutes later, they appeared on the landing pad again and set up the desiccant packs around the perimeter. Kael called up. “All clear. Whoever hit this place took everything portable. What worries me is there’s no evidence of a fight, just a few bloodstains.” There was a pause. “Be advised, this is now a Protocol Nine mission. Roush, Barris, sweep the perimeter and locate their trail.”
The Beast descended, landing with an ear-rending, metal-on-metal screech that echoed around the clearing.
“Lock her down, Hallie,” Kael yelled as the sound faded, He grabbed his pack and a crate of supplies, then led the remaining team down the weather-worn stairs to the stone bunker. Over half of the structure coated with a recent dusting of iridescent mold spores; slender, black creepers were establishing a toe-hold in the thicker sections.
Alfred started inflating the specialized tents that would form the med-bay and living quarters.
Jason and Kael set up the bio-screens and filters.
Hallie grunted as she unpacked the defoliant foam canisters and screwed them into back tanks, then she charged the hose. “Here, Sekkaro, you can give me a hand with the gardening.” She handed him a pack and showed him how to activate the pump. “Point and shoot. Simple.”
“I thought the only way you could kill mold was with fire?”
“This stuff contains the spores; it’s for when you’re stuck in proximity. Burn Crews don’t have to camp out on site like we do.” She led him outside and began the process of removing the invading greenery.
It took twenty minutes to reseal the structure against the elements. Hallie set up the remaining fans, and Alfred began the atmospheric detox within the living section.
Kael called Mike over to the side once he’d finished his part of the work. He smiled kindly at the young man.
Mike grinned back nervously. “Sir?”
“Relax. I just want you to understand that I’d have left you at the base if we weren’t short-handed; I’m sorry I had to tag you for this mission.”
“May I ask why, sir?” Mike stiffened, embarrassed, and uncertain of how to take the remark.
“I’ve looked at your file, and it’s clear your family arranged to have you sent to us as punishment detail. Don’t worry, there are other people of Rank serving similar sentences at Farlen. Ten years ago, you’d all have been assigned to a quiet station along the front for your indiscretions; sadly, no one seems to understand that duty in the Seep is far more dangerous than border patrols ever were.”
Mike flushed. “I’m not useless, sir, I—”
Kael held up his hand, silencing the protest. “Your file didn’t list the induction center you were processed through; that means you weren’t trained.”
“No, sir, but I spent four years working in the main testing facility of Sekk-Tech, where I handled pretty much every new prototype we produced. I can assist with maintaining any of the weaponry we’re equipped with. I’m a good shot, but I’ve never had to shoot at another person. I’m not bad in a brawl.”
Alfred joined them. “Your file doesn’t list your Rank, but that’s not uncommon on a punishment detail. If I may ask, where are you placed in the Sekkaro line of succession?”
“I’m… second son.” Mike looked around, nervous of what the team would think about him now.
Alfred’s expression shifted to concern, and he turned to Kael. “June should fly him back to Farlen, then return for us.”
Hallie stopped what she was doing. “Sorry. No-can-do. You must have missed my report to Jason, Doc. The Beast needs an overhaul; we pushed it taking her out for this. I can get us back to Farlen, but I can’t guarantee anything past that. You could be sitting out here for weeks while I find us a loaner; there’s nothing left in the Mech-Bays that can handle weather.
Colonel Sunde’s expression darkened. “Damn it. Okay, Sekkaro, you’re off any ranging duty, but you’re not just going to sit around. Rank or no, we’re going to need you to pull double your weight in the support area. Agreed?”
“Yes, sir,” Mike replied.
“Does anyone have a problem with this?” Kael asked again but to the rest of them this time.
“No, sir.” The group answered in unison.
Mike put his hand up.
“You have a question, Private Sekkaro?”
“What’s a Protocol Nine mission, sir?”
Kael exhaled, his scowl deepened. “Our team is frontline search and rescue; our mandate is to save lives. Protocol Nine is the military directive that extends our purview to include combat as well as search and destroy missions.”
Everyone turned as Scott and Tris entered the airlock, then watched as the scouts were scanned for contaminants. A reddish light worked its way down them, sterilizing their enviro-suits completely before the door unlocked.
“Colonel, we found their trail; it’s less than a day old. They’re heading South into the basin,” Tris reported.
“Excellent. You, Roush, and Captain Trati are with me; you have fifteen minutes to get ready.” Kael picked up his helmet. “Rig your enviro-suits for full recycling; it may be a few days before we get back here, then see Doc for stim patches and boosters, then make sure all the supplement and water pouches in your vests are filled. Check all the filters out before you seal-up.”
“It’s easier to set up a suit that you’re not wearing.” Alfred walked Mike through the steps as he set Jason’s suit up, then turned his attention to Scott.
“Well Sekkaro, I guess that means you’re assisting me.” Kael’s wide grin put the younger man at ease.
Tris motioned to Hallie and led her over to the far corner of the room. “You’ll be careful, won’t you? Promise me that if Clan Evora shows up, you won’t try to take them on, singlehanded.”
“Aren’t I supposed to say that to you? You’re the one going out there.” Hallie’s infamous grin followed as she tugged a strap into place. “You never get this part right; how did you pass basic.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”