Dusts of Avalon - Beastwithin.org

If the situation allowed it at all, I'm sure I could persuade the Colonel to give you— and everyone else in the company — a few more days of rest while we find allpersonnel to fill the slots. But we don't have the luxury of time, and we need tosend a fully paed platoon up to the orbit, as soon as we get them there. WithCaptain Bluebrook dead, the ain of command is rather sparse. For the timebeing, you report directly to me.”“Whatever you say, sir”, Daleworth said, genuinely full of vigour, but worriedthat in light of what she said, that might not have been quite enough to convincethe Mayor of that fact. “I'm ready.”“And don't worry about rest and relaxation, lieutenant — I believe your missionfor the next day or two will not be particularly allenging. Or it could. ButI know you enjoy missions that could go either way.”“I think I do, sir.” Daleworth decided to keep her own thoughts out of this; themajor was right, of course, but she also knew that there were the kind of missionsthat could go either way that she liked, and then there were the kind of missionsthat could go either way that everyone else assumed she liked. She liked missionsthat had some sort of room for planning of different outcomes, not a missionwhere things were either terribly dull or an incoherent mess of a bloodbath.“Your mission is to pi up a civilian contractor, and escort him to the NAFLC.From there, you'll head to investigate a space station with your platoon — reinforcementswill be waiting in the laun complex — and a science team.”Daleworth blinked. “Investigate whi space station, and what for, sir?”“A blind yellow, as the Sword Bea guys said. A mystery scanner contact.I wish I knew more than that, lieutenant. is could be some sort of a Plannerploy. Or, surprisingly, it could be something else entirely. But the science team isthere in case it really is something else entirely…”II Friend or Foe?February 6, 2632, 09:42 UTCA of an underground military complex —whi is to say, a bunker — near Cresserons, France. e soldiers whostaffed were always a lile bit amazed how their outpost, officially the“Sword Bea Orbital Intelligence Centre”, was so cramped that even a single, notparticularly loud alarm bell and a loudspeaker could be easily heard in the entirebunker. With a grandiose name like that, common sense suggested that maybe afew more were required.But an alarm like this was nothing to joke about. e personnel twited a bitat the sudden loud noise, and looked at the new information on their screens.