Transient Signal

Chapter Twelve: Plan Z

Dropship 2-1

en route to CSNS Morrison

Jack sat uncomfortably in the one of the dropship's crash-seats. According to the mission timer on his HUD, it had been almost ten hours since he had first sat in a very similar seat with Captain Miller. The flight computer said it was going to be a thirty minute trip to the Morrison. Those thirty minutes left a lot of time for self-reflection...and self-doubt.

Jack could not help but look back and think on what had just happened. In less than twelve hours, 1-1 Platoon had been gutted. He played over every move, every decision, every shot he took, trying to make sense of it all. Some decisions he knew were not his fault: the section leaders had picked their objectives, all he did was pass them up to Captain Miller. Others...he was not so sure about. He should have stayed behind on the bridge with Miller instead of running off. That lead to hypothetical arguments though over whether or not Nishi would have swayed him or whatever she did to Miller, or would have killed him. Both results would have left what was left of the platoon in a worse shape than they already were.

In the end, he decided that all this was not helping anyone and simple resolved to make sure everyone who was on board the dropship made it to the end alive. For the first time since stepping off from the Morrison, Jack popped the seal on his helmet and took it off. Even the stale air of the dropship's cabin was cool to his sweat-drenched head. The helmet had a small vent so that the wearer had fresh oxygen in an oxygen-rich environment, but it did little in the way of actual climate control within. Jack ran his hand through the scruff of brown hair he had on the top of his head and felt it slick back from the amount of sweat. He grabbed the small tube attached to a water bladder he wore on his back when he realized h had not drank any water since mission began.

Some example I am he mused darkly, taking in a few swigs of lukewarm water. He felt a little better with some water in him. He could now focus on a plan for dealing with that second creature.

He obviously was not going to have them search through a two kilometer long by one kilometer wide battle cruiser-that was just asking for a repeat of what happened on the Scholar. No, this time they would make it come to them.

"Alright, listen in," he said, his voice staining a bit since he did not have the helmet's COMs system to rely on. "Here's what's going to happen when we get to the Morrison. We're going to strongpoint the hangar bay and try to attract it to us. Hopefully, it will be alerted to our presence the minute we land. We get it on this dropship and send it on a one way trip to hell."

"That's a hell of a plan, Sergeant," said Vine. "Don't suppose you've got a plan B just in case?"

"Not this time. This is it; we fail this plan, we don't go home," declared Jack, trying to not pay attention to how ominous he sounded. It was true though, no matter how much it tasted sour in his mouth.

"Well, it's nice to see what odds we're playing with," commented Corporal Coleman. He shifted in his harness a bit, until he decided to just get out of it.

"I wish I had more for you guy, but this is it," admitted Jack. "Let's keep it simple. First off, I'm guessing no one thought to grab Singh's shotgun?" There was no response. It made sense to Jack though. Singh would not have told anyone he was carrying prototype ammunition around, so no one knew about the venom shells. "No? Oh well, doesn't matter. When we get there I want Vine, Coleman and Parker on the left. Burns, you'll be with me on the right. Gale, you with us?"

"Sergeant!" Gale shouted from the cockpit.

"As soon as we set down, start getting to work on a return flight plan for the automatic pilot. Make sure it goes full burn back to the Scholar. I don't want to be holding on to this thing any longer than I have to." Jack waved the detonator that was still taped to his hand.