Sargasso of Souls – Session 1

When I arrived at the Cochrane Industries villa near Lyons I found the Morris brothers (Morris never has told me his first name) waiting for a nearby production facility to finish constructing the shuttle that we’d be using to get to Esperi V. It would be ready in about a month.

Until then there wasn’t much to do but I didn’t really mind. To be honest it was a blast not having to worry about where my next meal was coming from. I made the most of it.

Morris was pretty much as I remembered him and we hung out quite a lot. Reminiscing about the good old days and stuff. We spent some pretty hairy times together in the Corps. His brother Jack, or Razor as he seems to be known, is also ex UNMC, though he mustered out before I joined. From what I can tell he seems to be OK. He’s pretty focused, a take-charge kind of guy, and he seems to know what he’s doing. He’s younger than Morris though it’s obvious he’s the one in command of this unit.

Over the next few days the other members of the team showed up; a doctor, Veldin Phipps, and the fly-boy shuttle pilot, Mark Ramsay. Phipps seemed a little weird but mostly kept himself to himself. Ramsay’s OK… for someone with a metal plate in his head.

We’d been there for about a week when we heard the first reports of some viral outbreak spreading like wildfire across Antarctica. News services seemed to be saying that it had started after eco-terrorists attacked the Sukuvesta station. Since then everyone who had been anywhere near it had died. Even the pros in their HazMat suits hadn’t made it out.

Scientists soon determined that the plague was not biological at all. In fact the “virus” was the result of microscopic self-replicating Nanites breaching containment during the attack on Sukuvesta station. Once loose they had begun reproducing, and in order to do so they were consuming inorganic and organic material on a cellular level. Their numbers had exploded. No wonder they’re illegal.

Phipps observed that the growth of the Nanites was exponential and only limited by available raw materials. He predicted that it was purely a matter of time before the “virus” got off Antarctica.

His continual doom saying was rapidly getting on everyone’s nerves. However it wasn’t long before the UN quarantined the whole continent, so maybe he had a point.

The footage they showed on the news looked pretty bad and the death toll continued to rise.

It seemed an increasingly good idea to get off Earth about then, before things could get any worse, so Razor contacted the shuttle production facility and tried to get the delivery brought forward. The head of construction, Mr. Lau, seemed cooperative and said he would try and get the shuttle finished a few days ahead of the original timetable. It was the best that we could hope for.

We waited and listened to the downward spiral on the news.

After a few more days, contact had been lost with Antarctica entirely. You couldn’t help wondering if anybody was still alive down there. Then signs of the plague showed up in South America. All intercontinental travel was immediately suspended.

When there were only a few days to go we began moving supplies and belongings to the production facility, ready for loading as soon as the shuttle was completed.

After speaking with George Cochrane, head of Cochrane Industries, Razor offered to take the small number of CIC villa staff and their families with us: mostly security guards. The majority of them accepted.

However, to our consternation, Mr. Lau then informed us that the shuttle technicians were having some problems with the engine ignition sequence. It looked like the early delivery was going to be delayed.

Razor immediately dispatched Mark and Veldin to the facility to see if they could help in any way, while Razor, Morris and I continued getting things ready.

After a couple more days of frustrating delays, a young woman named Marie Duprés unexpectedly arrived at the villa and asked to see Razor. She informed him that she was one of Lau’s chief administrators and revealed that Lau had confided in her that he was going to hijack the shuttle. He had offered her a berth, though he had made it clear that it was for her and her alone. There was no room for either Mrs. Lau or for Mr. Duprés. Marie was quite attractive.

Thinking on her feet, she had played along with Lau and pretended that she was seriously considering his offer, but in reality she had no intention of abandoning her husband. Out of desperation she turned to us, hoping to make a deal. In exchange for the information she had already provided and her assistance in obtaining the launch codes that would circumvent the faked ignition problems, she wanted assurance that both she and her husband would have a place on our shuttle. Under the circumstances Razor was happy to oblige.

Speed was of the essence at that point, as Lau was intending to take the shuttle that very evening, so Razor immediately contacted me at the facility, where I was unloading the last of the shipments of provisions. Mark and Veldin were also there, still working on the engines.

Razor told me to expect the imminent arrival of Marie Duprés. She was already on her way. Once there I was to make contact with her and ensure that she succeeded in retrieving the launch codes. Without them we wouldn’t be going anywhere. He and Morris would join us later, as soon as they could round up the other passengers and take care of one or two last minute details.

And so that’s what I did.

At first everything seemed to go OK. I met up with Marie as planned and kept an eye on her while she obtained the launch codes like she had promised. She seemed a determined and gutsy young woman. She was nervous but she held herself together.

Afterwards we went to the canteen, where she had arranged to meet her husband. He also worked at the facility. It seemed a convenient place to kill some time until the others arrived. We didn’t want to kick things off too early.

A short while later Razor sent a transmission to say that he and Morris were on their way.

Just then, a security guard wandered into the canteen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down across the room from us, nursing it unconvincingly. He was paying way too much attention to us for my liking. I suspected that site security had rumbled us and were getting ready to make a move against us.

This theory was reinforced when I got a transmission from Mark a few minutes later to say that a couple of suspicious looking armed security guards had just arrived in the shuttle hangar. He didn’t much like the look of them. I understood his concern since, for the time being, we were totally out-gunned. We had been relieved of our firepower when we entered the facility; though that wasn’t a particular problem for me, if I could get in close to them.

In response, Razor advised me to get down to the hangar and give Mark and Veldin any assistance that I could. I’ve got my own problems I thought, rapidly considering my options. With the security guard in the canteen, I couldn’t really reply without giving the game away.

“Ramona?” Razor buzzed in my earpiece. “Check in”

Yeah, yeah, give me a moment.

I stood, a little too suddenly, studying the security guard’s reaction as I walked past him over to the coffee dispenser. It was conveniently placed off to one side and fractionally behind him. My sudden movement and the change of position made the guard uncomfortable but he’d picked a bad place to sit down. He couldn’t turn around without making it obvious that he was watching me.

I took a swig of coffee and then poured the rest away before walking back across the room behind him. Part way to the door I said to Marie “We should be going”. She and her husband stood and came over to me. The security guard was still in a bad position to do anything. Which was fine by me.

We walked to the door and went out.

As soon as we were outside, I told the Duprés they should head for the hangar. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch you up before you get there. Be careful”, I said, “I’m pretty sure Security are on to us.”

As they went off I positioned myself to one side of the doorway and adjusted my breathing. Calm. Inner focus. Ready. Assuming I was correct, the guard would be coming through the door any minute… now!

I caught him totally unawares and my elbow hit him in the jugular. He staggered back against the wall looking dazed and surprised and, before he could recover, I doubled him up by kneeing him in the solar plexus. The third blow struck a nerve cluster at his temple. He hit the floor hard and didn’t get up. He wasn’t dead but when he came to he’d have a hell of a headache.

I took his sidearm, dragged him back out of sight inside the canteen and went after the Duprés. On the way I radioed the others to let them know I was OK and on my way to the hangar.

At that time Razor was just arriving at the facility and Morris was about ten minutes away.

“Don’t hang around” I said. “Things are just about to kick off here.”

To my surprise, I had barely had enough time to catch up with the Duprés, when Razor came speeding across the compound towards us in a black 4×4. He had somehow managed to talk his way past gate security with a trunk load of weapons and body armour. I was impressed by his ballsy ingenuity.

He’d left the remaining passengers outside, a short distance from the main gate, where they were waiting to rendezvous with Morris. However, before they tried to get in, we needed to secure the shuttle hangar.

Much to our relief, according to Mark and Veldin, there were still only two guards inside at that time; though both were armed and armoured.

The Duprés and I jumped into Razor’s vehicle and we headed off at speed.

A few minutes later Razor and I made a rather risky attempt to neutralise security. The two guards were well positioned and it was not possible to approach them and take them out without detection. Unfortunately we were running short on time and there were no other alternatives. Ill-advised though it might be, we had to try it.

In the brief gun battle that followed we rapidly despatched both guards but, to my annoyance, one of them got a burst off and hit me in the arm. It could have been worse.

I kept an eye on the doors while Veldin patched me up and gave me some meds to keep me going through the next few minutes. Meanwhile Razor and Ramsay started loading the shuttle with provisions.

By the time Morris radioed to say he was ready to go, the loading was complete. Mark started the pre-flight sequence, while Razor, Veldin and I kitted up and got ready for trouble.

After a few more minutes Morris and the remaining passengers arrived, speeding across the compound in two black CIC Sedans pursued by three site security vans. They had rammed the gates.

We laid down covering fire and the security fell back.

Mark yelled for us to get inside and lowered the rear ramp. Morris drove one of the Sedans straight in, while we unloaded the passengers from the other and got them all aboard. It was pretty slick considering.

We piled in and Mark brought the engines to full. Obliterating large portions of the hangar as he did so. The shuttle lurched forward, out and upward. Roaring up into the night sky with thrusters screaming.

And so it was that on the 19th June 2106 we left the planet.

We had barely reached orbit when a UNSC Battlecruiser challenged us.

“Unidentified shuttle, this is the UNSC Nigeria, immediately reduce speed and plot course to the following coordinates. Once you have entered the quarantine area you will cut power to your engines and remain on station until further notice. Should you fail to comply with these instructions you will be considered a contamination risk and sanitised. You have 30 seconds to acknowledge.”