Outremer System, O-1/Bohemond, Base Alpha
Caleb sighed, leaning against the rock outcropping, getting as comfortable as he could with the facemask and it's attached filter. While I appreciate the ability to not be stuck in a pressure suit, he thought, looking at the foreign red dwarf sun rise over the equally foreign red seas, I'd really love it if the air and water wasn't filled with so much fucking bacteria. See exotic places, they said. I thought they meant exotic foreign ports, not planets undergoing their own version of the Oxygen Holocaust. Oh well, at least it's pretty.
"Base to Captain Schembri," a voice said over the comms, "come in, Captain."
Caleb sighed, triggering his own comm. "Captain Schembri to Base, I hear you," he said, "Is my break time over already, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry sir," the other officer replied, trying to sound apologetic. "Higher ups are briefing the new arrivals soon and want you back for that."
"Of course, of course," the Captain replied, grunting as he got up from his spot. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Captain Schembri out." At that, he started on the trail that had brought him to the outrcroppping in the first place. It's nice to get out of the base every once and a while, he thought, looking around at the barren landscape, if I wanted to stay indoors all the time, I would have stayed home in Port Elysium. Hopefully, we'll be kept busy making sure the scientists are safe from injuring themselves and not just standing by, hoping that a Ruskie or Sino ship will show up just to alleviate the boredom. Though that'd be more of the Winston Churchill's problem than us ground pounders.
A few minutes later, he walked over a rise in the landscape and saw the series of bunkers and tunnels that held Base Alpha. Good old home away from home, he thought, saluting the armored soldier that stood watch as he walked into an airlock. Stepping into the decontamination chamber, he turned on the sprayers and let the antiseptic chemicals wash over him and the equipment that he'd taken out of the base. Got to make sure to not track anything into the base, he thought, lifting his boots and getting them washed. One of the original biologists got pneumonia from this shit.
Stepping into the wet room, Caleb took off the facemask and the fatigues he'd taken outside with him. Going over to the shower, he quickly hosed off the remnants of the caustic solution that had gotten onto his skin. Shaking off excess water, he put on a new set of fatigues and walked into the locker room. Going to his locker, he pulled out his boots, rank pins, and dog tags. After putting them all on and adjusting his fatigues to get rid of wrinkles, he was ready to go in front of the new personnel without embarrassing himself.
Freshly clothed, the Captain walked to the mess, which had been turned into a meeting room, due to it's status as the largest room on the base. With the recent arrival of new personnel, the old conference centers wouldn't have cut it for the initial meeting. As he turned the corner, the general noise of voices washed over him like the planet's red seas, making him cringe slightly. Taking a moment to calm himself, he walked through the threshold and took a moment to look around the hall.
Captain Elizabeth Bakarra stood in the mess hall/meeting room, watching over the activity with an eagle eye, a stern look to ensure it was known that she was the real deal. She wore the full Captain regalia, plus a navy blue shoulder cape over her left shoulder, and her right sidearm was visible in it's holster. Her mission was to keep this base safe, and she intended to do so.
Patrick sits in his designated chair adjusting a fishook pinned to the right side of his uniform. Constantly fiddling with it as it never seems to be perfectly even. His other trinket, a copper pin sits just above the fishook, displaying what looks to be a submarine in the background with a seashell in the front. Eventually he manages to get it lined up enough for it to be considered adequate by his standards, leaning forward in his seat waiting for the meeting to start.
"Sure got a bunch of weirdos here," Caleb said to himself, confident that no one could hear him over the cacophony. "Fair, I suppose," he added as he walked to the front of the room, where a podium and projector had been hastily set up. Gathered was the CO of the base, Brigadier General Lloyd Thomas and his staff, and the leading scientist, Dr. Helena De Groote (PhD), who were apparently hashing out the last details of the presentation.
"Oh, Captain," the General said, turning to nod at the soldier. "Glad to see you made it back in time."
"The exercise did me some good, sir," Caleb replied, saluting his commanding officer.
"Oh, come now, General," Helena said, smiling as she turned to Caleb, "He was off duty. Never mind that there's still some people that aren't here yet."
"Well, we're going to start without them, cause we need to get this dog and pony show on the road," Thomas said, waving the other two to their seats before walking over to the podium. "Alright, everyone," he said, tapping the microphone, "The meeting is about to begin, please be seated."
The academic part of the audience took a few moments to calm down and find their seats, while the soldiers were either sitting already or immediately sat down.
Patrick turns to the front of the mess hall. Waiting for the General to speak.
Eliza listened intently as her superiors spoke, as this would no doubt be vital information.
"As you all hopefully know, my name is General Thomas and I'm the Commanding Officer of this expedition, so anywhere in this star system, my word is law," he said, scanning the crowd. "This post might have started as more of a research outpost, but what you're going to be looking into has become more of an issue of national security than pure research. I say this, not because of any animosity I have towards scientists and their work, but to make sure all of you understand the gravity of the situation. For now, everything you're about to see, research, and discuss is classified and until we're got a full handle on this, anything that is discovered is strictly the property of the American Union and Commonwealth of Worlds. I'd give you a chance to bow out, but you were given that chance before you left the Sol system. So, without further ado, I'll turn the time over to Dr. Helena De Groote."
"Thank you, General," the Doctor said, her French accent betraying her origins, "As he said, my name is Helena De Groote. I'm a Doctor of Science, specializing in xenobiology and astrogeology, namely where they crossover in the development of life. When the first extra-solar astronomy was conducted, one of the field's many missions was to discover the location of nearby life-bearing worlds. Besides the closer worlds like Atlantica or New Texas, a number of candidates were discovered. One of the most puzzling was this system, what has been renamed as the Outremer system." At the mention of Outremer, the projector came to life and showed a diagram of the system, before zooming in onto the red and brown mottled planet, Bohemond.
"Most planets that we've found that have been capable of life have either been in a more primitive state, with few bacteria swimming in tidal pools, or more developed, with plants and animals. With Bohemond, we thought we had a planet in between, in the process of evolving past bacteria and onto more complicated life forms. So, in partnership with ISOC and CSC, we embarked on our first expedition about five years ago and started work on figuring out the history of the planet. To make a long story short, we found inconsistencies in the fossil record, mainly that there was none at all. It was as if someone had dumped a bunch of bacteria and algae on a barren planet and let several millennium pass."
"Well..." she continued, as the projector switched to an aerial view of what was undoubtedly alien ruins, "After trying to find an answer to where Bohemond's life came from and scouring the planet for four years, we found what can only be described as buildings and structures of a design unseen in any xeno-archeological site on record. When we went to the ruins, we discovered a number of artifacts that are, shall we say, anomalous. You'll learn the sordid details later, but needless to say, as a mainly xeno-biology and geological team, we were unprepared for the type and amount of material that we'd uncovered."
"Which brings us to why all of you were brought here by the Winston Churchill," Helena said with a smile, looking over the audience. "You are here as experts in your disparate fields, from physics to linguistics to killing things, to get us the perspective necessary to understand these artifacts and the ruins. It's a bounty that hasn't been seen since the initial discovery of the Aos Si. So, you'll be split into groups and given an artifact or two to look at. Officially, it's not a competition, but let's just say there's a prize to the team that gets the furthest in sorting out their artifact today."
With that, Doctor De Groote started calling out groups and where they were to meet. "And Group 5, please meet at conference room 3," she said, pointing at one of the entrances to the mess hall.
Caleb sighed, leaning against the rock outcropping, getting as comfortable as he could with the facemask and it's attached filter. While I appreciate the ability to not be stuck in a pressure suit, he thought, looking at the foreign red dwarf sun rise over the equally foreign red seas, I'd really love it if the air and water wasn't filled with so much fucking bacteria. See exotic places, they said. I thought they meant exotic foreign ports, not planets undergoing their own version of the Oxygen Holocaust. Oh well, at least it's pretty.
"Base to Captain Schembri," a voice said over the comms, "come in, Captain."
Caleb sighed, triggering his own comm. "Captain Schembri to Base, I hear you," he said, "Is my break time over already, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry sir," the other officer replied, trying to sound apologetic. "Higher ups are briefing the new arrivals soon and want you back for that."
"Of course, of course," the Captain replied, grunting as he got up from his spot. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Captain Schembri out." At that, he started on the trail that had brought him to the outrcroppping in the first place. It's nice to get out of the base every once and a while, he thought, looking around at the barren landscape, if I wanted to stay indoors all the time, I would have stayed home in Port Elysium. Hopefully, we'll be kept busy making sure the scientists are safe from injuring themselves and not just standing by, hoping that a Ruskie or Sino ship will show up just to alleviate the boredom. Though that'd be more of the Winston Churchill's problem than us ground pounders.
A few minutes later, he walked over a rise in the landscape and saw the series of bunkers and tunnels that held Base Alpha. Good old home away from home, he thought, saluting the armored soldier that stood watch as he walked into an airlock. Stepping into the decontamination chamber, he turned on the sprayers and let the antiseptic chemicals wash over him and the equipment that he'd taken out of the base. Got to make sure to not track anything into the base, he thought, lifting his boots and getting them washed. One of the original biologists got pneumonia from this shit.
Stepping into the wet room, Caleb took off the facemask and the fatigues he'd taken outside with him. Going over to the shower, he quickly hosed off the remnants of the caustic solution that had gotten onto his skin. Shaking off excess water, he put on a new set of fatigues and walked into the locker room. Going to his locker, he pulled out his boots, rank pins, and dog tags. After putting them all on and adjusting his fatigues to get rid of wrinkles, he was ready to go in front of the new personnel without embarrassing himself.
Freshly clothed, the Captain walked to the mess, which had been turned into a meeting room, due to it's status as the largest room on the base. With the recent arrival of new personnel, the old conference centers wouldn't have cut it for the initial meeting. As he turned the corner, the general noise of voices washed over him like the planet's red seas, making him cringe slightly. Taking a moment to calm himself, he walked through the threshold and took a moment to look around the hall.
Captain Elizabeth Bakarra stood in the mess hall/meeting room, watching over the activity with an eagle eye, a stern look to ensure it was known that she was the real deal. She wore the full Captain regalia, plus a navy blue shoulder cape over her left shoulder, and her right sidearm was visible in it's holster. Her mission was to keep this base safe, and she intended to do so.
Patrick sits in his designated chair adjusting a fishook pinned to the right side of his uniform. Constantly fiddling with it as it never seems to be perfectly even. His other trinket, a copper pin sits just above the fishook, displaying what looks to be a submarine in the background with a seashell in the front. Eventually he manages to get it lined up enough for it to be considered adequate by his standards, leaning forward in his seat waiting for the meeting to start.
"Sure got a bunch of weirdos here," Caleb said to himself, confident that no one could hear him over the cacophony. "Fair, I suppose," he added as he walked to the front of the room, where a podium and projector had been hastily set up. Gathered was the CO of the base, Brigadier General Lloyd Thomas and his staff, and the leading scientist, Dr. Helena De Groote (PhD), who were apparently hashing out the last details of the presentation.
"Oh, Captain," the General said, turning to nod at the soldier. "Glad to see you made it back in time."
"The exercise did me some good, sir," Caleb replied, saluting his commanding officer.
"Oh, come now, General," Helena said, smiling as she turned to Caleb, "He was off duty. Never mind that there's still some people that aren't here yet."
"Well, we're going to start without them, cause we need to get this dog and pony show on the road," Thomas said, waving the other two to their seats before walking over to the podium. "Alright, everyone," he said, tapping the microphone, "The meeting is about to begin, please be seated."
The academic part of the audience took a few moments to calm down and find their seats, while the soldiers were either sitting already or immediately sat down.
Patrick turns to the front of the mess hall. Waiting for the General to speak.
Eliza listened intently as her superiors spoke, as this would no doubt be vital information.
"As you all hopefully know, my name is General Thomas and I'm the Commanding Officer of this expedition, so anywhere in this star system, my word is law," he said, scanning the crowd. "This post might have started as more of a research outpost, but what you're going to be looking into has become more of an issue of national security than pure research. I say this, not because of any animosity I have towards scientists and their work, but to make sure all of you understand the gravity of the situation. For now, everything you're about to see, research, and discuss is classified and until we're got a full handle on this, anything that is discovered is strictly the property of the American Union and Commonwealth of Worlds. I'd give you a chance to bow out, but you were given that chance before you left the Sol system. So, without further ado, I'll turn the time over to Dr. Helena De Groote."
"Thank you, General," the Doctor said, her French accent betraying her origins, "As he said, my name is Helena De Groote. I'm a Doctor of Science, specializing in xenobiology and astrogeology, namely where they crossover in the development of life. When the first extra-solar astronomy was conducted, one of the field's many missions was to discover the location of nearby life-bearing worlds. Besides the closer worlds like Atlantica or New Texas, a number of candidates were discovered. One of the most puzzling was this system, what has been renamed as the Outremer system." At the mention of Outremer, the projector came to life and showed a diagram of the system, before zooming in onto the red and brown mottled planet, Bohemond.
"Most planets that we've found that have been capable of life have either been in a more primitive state, with few bacteria swimming in tidal pools, or more developed, with plants and animals. With Bohemond, we thought we had a planet in between, in the process of evolving past bacteria and onto more complicated life forms. So, in partnership with ISOC and CSC, we embarked on our first expedition about five years ago and started work on figuring out the history of the planet. To make a long story short, we found inconsistencies in the fossil record, mainly that there was none at all. It was as if someone had dumped a bunch of bacteria and algae on a barren planet and let several millennium pass."
"Well..." she continued, as the projector switched to an aerial view of what was undoubtedly alien ruins, "After trying to find an answer to where Bohemond's life came from and scouring the planet for four years, we found what can only be described as buildings and structures of a design unseen in any xeno-archeological site on record. When we went to the ruins, we discovered a number of artifacts that are, shall we say, anomalous. You'll learn the sordid details later, but needless to say, as a mainly xeno-biology and geological team, we were unprepared for the type and amount of material that we'd uncovered."
"Which brings us to why all of you were brought here by the Winston Churchill," Helena said with a smile, looking over the audience. "You are here as experts in your disparate fields, from physics to linguistics to killing things, to get us the perspective necessary to understand these artifacts and the ruins. It's a bounty that hasn't been seen since the initial discovery of the Aos Si. So, you'll be split into groups and given an artifact or two to look at. Officially, it's not a competition, but let's just say there's a prize to the team that gets the furthest in sorting out their artifact today."
With that, Doctor De Groote started calling out groups and where they were to meet. "And Group 5, please meet at conference room 3," she said, pointing at one of the entrances to the mess hall.