//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: The Conversion Bureau: Threshold // by Guardian_Gryphon //------------------------------// Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 18:47 GMT Tactical Bunker, Earthgov Council Facility Harrisburg Pennsylvania Councilor Sulerahmen glanced around the room and decided she was the only truly calm person in the bunker. To be sure, the other Councilors looked unfazed; putting years of political experience and crisis-mode training to work in order to erect a calm, well mannered mask. But Innara knew better. Subtle tells in the men and womens' steps, and gestures, and the undertones in their voices bespoke a gripping inner fear. Councilor Sulerahmen was afraid herself, but she knew the secret to calm in a crisis; to acknowledge the fear. It was, she reflected, only right to fear; the very fact that an evacuation order had been given, the Councilors' very presence in the hardened bunker deep below Harrisburg, was testament to the gravity of the situation. The facility was a mirror image of the bunkers beneath the other Council facilities, and the buried warrens of titanium reinforced halls and rooms were themselves based on the tactical redoubts ensconced under the major military command posts everywhere around the globe. Aside from the amenities, including a warehouses' worth of foodstuffs, a water filtration pump, and air recycler, there was a central Council chamber, similar to the formal one nearly a mile above on the surface. Spartan quarters for the Counselors, staff, and a small military contingent, and a situation room rounded out the facility. The latter chamber was where Innara had taken up residence, eyes often fixed on the wall-sized screens that dominated the space, awaiting the first reports from the crisis zone. She occasionally graced Councilor Korvan with a knowing look; alone in the room they understood the true gravity of the situation on a scientific level. The bunker they were sheltered in had been constructed to resist a multi-gigaton nuclear event. Lawrence Thornton's worst case estimates had painted a picture of a planet-rending event several orders of magnitude larger. Councilor Sulerahmen knew that either reports would appear on the screens, and the world, however damaged, would go on spinning, or the end would come before anyone even had a chance to process it. Sulerahmen's grim musings were cut short by a soft tone, and the words "Signal Acquired. Rebooting..." displayed in basic white type in the center of each wall screen. All eyes instantly fixed on the glowing vertical slabs, and Innara thought she detected a communal intake of worried breaths. When the satellite feed finally appeared, the reactions were far more audible. Korvan stepped up to the monitor and whistled, "That falls just a bit outside the good Doctor's predictions if you ask me." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 18:47 GMT Tactical Bunker, Earthgov Military CENTCOM Central Greenland "This is direct feed?" "Piped straight out of satvision four. Everything geosynchronous for this grid is, as far as we know, completely gone." The general shifted position to get a better angle on both the holotank before him, and the technician beside him, "How soon can you realign something for a closer look?" The soft clicks and whistles from the technician's keystrokes would have echoed in the space, but they were mostly drowned out by the subdued murmur of activity tainted at once by relief and panic. The personnel crammed into the dark, clean, spartan space accented only by floor lights and glowing interfaces, knew all too well that the worst of the crisis was likely yet to come. The technician paused and winced, the hiss of his inward breath echoing slightly against the gunmetal gray vaulted ceiling, "At least ten hours. Possibly twelve. We would have to adjust the orbit of the nearest capsule, and its not setup for transfer into that orbit." The general shifted and sighed, "Set it up. Meanwhile, see if you can get a hardline to Yorktown. They should be able to put eyes in there sooner, assuming they're still in one piece..." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 18:53 GMT ACV-10 UES Yorktown, Submerged -300m Sea Level 5 NM West of The Barrier (Earth Side) "Understood. What's our minimum safe distance...? Acknowledged." Admiral Laren replaced the handset, removed his hat, and slowly ran a hand through his slightly graying hair, "Bring up the data packet that accompanied that call. Display all cartographic data." Admiral Laren, Lieutenant Sorden, and the ship's captain gathered around the bridge holotank. A map of the Atlantic swiftly filled the air, casting an eerie blue glow across the dim space; no natural illumination filtered in through the windows thanks to the thousands of feet of seawater above, and the bridge lights were always kept on low settings for the sake of the crew's concentration. The captain tapped the large bubble filling the center of the flat projection and whistled, "That's what came of all this?" Laren nodded and crossed his arms, "No one can even begin to take a stab at telling us what it is, so we've been asked to do low-pass recon. We'll pop a floater, and test ambient radiation levels. If its safe, command wants a drone on station within the hour." Sorden looked ready to cut in, but the Captain raised a hand before she finished forming the words, "I'm sure the admiral will want full spectrographic analysis packets deployed once the drone pass is complete." The captain shot Laren a knowing look, "and I'm sure the Admiral and I won't need to directly supervise the flight plans of the reconnaissance VTOLs. I'm sure you're more than capable of filing an... autonomous flight plan. Aren't you lieutenant." Sorden smiled, and tossed her hair, "They don't call me firebrand for nothing. Sir." Admiral Laren sighed and shook his head, a slight smile twisting the edge of his lips, "Indeed they don't Lieutenant." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 18:56 GMT Sea Level, Exclusion Zone A 5 NM West of The Barrier (Earth Side) The buoy was an easy thing to miss; a mere half-meter in diameter, the donut shaped metallic construct rose and fell with the waves, held up only by a quartet of disposable gas bags anchored inside its ribbed construction. In the darkness of the planet's early evenings, brought on by the atmospheric occlusion above, the probe was nearly invisible amongst the troughs and crests of the ocean. But that did not prevent it from doing its job. [[-<==>-]] // SYS_Root _> Boot // ...Booting Primary Systems... // -Initializing stabilizer gyro // -Initializing communication dish // -Initializing sampling array // Boot Complete // SYS_Root _> | With a slight hiss and a whirr, the buoy deployed a series of antennae and dishes. Within seconds it was transmitting a wealth of atmospheric and tactical data to its parent receiver, thousands of feet below. // SYS_Root _> Scan all // ...Initiating comprehensive scan... // -Running Temperature Scan // |-Water Temperature: 6.5 C // |-Air Temperature: 12.77 C // -Running Atmospheric Scan // |-Contaminants: Negative // |-Organisms: Negative // |-Pressure: 1013.25 mbar // |-Wind Speed: 12 kph // -Running Radiological Scan // |- Water: 0.29 msvrt // |- Air: 1.2 msvrt // |- Results: Nominal // -Running LADAR Scan |- 0 Contacts // Scan Complete // SYS_Root _> | [[-<==>-]] Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 18:58 GMT Earthgov Council Facility Harrisburg Pennsylvania Once it had been established that the world was not going to immediately self-immolate, the Council had returned to the surface with as much alacrity as the shaken politicians could muster in order to immediately convene an emergency session. The leadership and logistical instincts that so many of the men and women had spent decades honing had finally overridden their fear, and the primary concern had become the press. The 'event,' as it was being referred to, had triggered enough global seismic activity and other tertiary fallout that it had instantly gotten the attention of the media. In conjunction with the mass evacuation of the Azores, and footage from the final escaping civilian ships that had leaked onto the internet, the evidence was damning enough that the Council was more or less obligated to respond. Councilor Korvan shook his head pensively as his fellow statesmen filed into their seats. On some level he was grateful that the task of handling the media circus would fall to more experienced Counselors; he had no desire to walk the political tightrope of explaining what might be an apocalypse to the planet. Korvan surreptitiously checked his DaTab, as he sat, and winced: perhaps it wasn't his responsibility to explain to the public, but very soon the Council would be depending on his gamble with Innara. A gamble that, so far, had not paid out. According to the latest update scrolling by on the wafer thin piece of plexiglass clutched in his hand, the Yorktown had regained contact with central command, but there was no word on Dr. Thornton whatsoever. Matthas glanced up at his bodyguard, a suited agent in his late sixties, and nodded. He had previously instructed the man to step out and place a call on his authority should such an eventuality arise. Korvan's gaze swept back across the chamber, and caught Councilor Sulerahmen's eyes. In response to a questioning twitch of her eyebrow, Korvan shrugged nearly-imperceptibly, then refocused his attention to the speaker. The Councilor grimaced; if they were lucky they might only be in damage control mode for a few months. Or if they were not lucky: years. Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 19:02 GMT ACV-10 UES Yorktown 5 NM West of The Barrier (Earth Side) Before the full bulk of the rising supercarrier had even breached the surface, flight deck technicians were already in motion. The moment the inky black waves parted before the duracrete expanse, every topside hatch opened and the orange-suited men flooded out into the cold, clear night air to ready the ship for aviation operations. Massive arc-lamps snapped on to illuminate the space as if the invisible sun were still shining, and after several moments of preparation, the center-deck elevator shaft doors began to slide apart. The lift slowly rose to fill the space, the light from the overhead structures gradually falling across a series of sleek gray curves. Finally the elevator came to rest, and the technicians swarmed the Avicor ALR-64 reconnaissance drone, detaching the cables holding it to the metal slab, attaching fuel lines, and removing covers from the engine and sensor ports. Once the craft was fueled, its relatively light mass was hauled forward to catapult one. Two flight technicians hurriedly latched the magnetic shuttle to the forward wheel, and then darted back to a safe distance. "Combat Information, this is Island; initiate boot sequence for Recon-1, and advise when ready for launch." After a brief pause, the Drone's single pusher turboprop began to spin, and each control surface tilted or swiveled briefly to verify operation status. As the pitch of the engine reached deafening levels for the flight deck crew, Combat Information responded. "Island, CIC, pre-flight complete; Recon-1 is primed, proceed with launch." A horn sounded on deck, and with a slight whine and a loud hiss of displaced air, the maglev driven shuttle snapped forward at tremendous speed, yanking the drone with it. When the small metal device reached the end of its track, the latch automatically flipped over, releasing Recon-1. Buoyed by the air rushing over its wings, the drone soared above the deck; the catapult was rated for far heavier craft, and the lighter vehicle could eschew the trademark dip of a fighter or transport, and simply climb instantly in a nearly vertical push for altitude. "Island, CIC; Recon-1 is away and we have control. Telemetry feeds are on socket AA-22-Z2." On the bridge, holoscopic three dimensional feed from the drone resolved in the holotank as the communications tech input the requisite socket information. Admiral Laren and the Captain stood on opposing sides of the table, staring into the projection; looking like nothing so much as two grand masters engaged in a chess tournament. A set of small dim icons in one corner of the illusion indicated that the signal was also being piped directly to several other viewers at Central Command. For several minutes the only sound on the bridge was the thrum of the engines far below, the odd tone from a console, and the occasional mumbled word between the helm and navigation. As the drone approached its target, the flight technicians in CIC reduced the throttle in preparation for a sensor pass. The barrier manifested on the bridge holotank as the abrupt appearance of a vertical surface perpendicular to the, previously unbroken, rumpled horizontal plane of the sea. As the drone approached the glimmering wall of light, a call came in from the CIC, "Bridge, CIC, it looks like the barrier is impenetrable to thermal and holo imaging scans. We're switching the display to visible light, and coming around for high resolution video capture and a spectral analysis." As the wall of light swung away in the viewport, the three dimensional projection smoothly morphed into a suspended stereoscopic display window, viewable from both sides. The color abruptly tinted the image, augmented by a series of filter passes to account for low light levels. The starless sky and churning ocean slowly revolved as the craft made a wide arc to line up the proper approach, guided by the expert hands of a technician at a joystick several decks below. As the craft made its revolution, the Captain and the Admiral were distracted from the projection by a scuffle in the companionway. "No, sailor, you do not have the authorization to deny me access to this compartment. I am here on behalf of the Intelligence sector and..." The Admiral peered around the bulkhead, and snorted, "Well well. Mr. Sarac. I thought we had already been over the consequences for breaking the rules on this ship..." Sarac shrugged off the arresting hand of the sailor who had impeded his progress at the hatch, and strode into the room, "And I thought we had been over the power my position affords me Admiral. If you and your crew continue to display such an uncooperative attitude, I can and will charge you with impeding an active investigation." The Captain rolled his eyes and thumped the holotank, "What do you want spook? You get some lubricant on the suit? Dry-cleaning is done in drydock." Sarac glared, then gestured to the video feed, "I want a patch to this feed delivered to my specified server port. The... gentlemen in CIC were unwilling to obey direct orders and referred me here." Laren stepped back to the holo-table, and crossed his arms, staring into the video feed. His tone was collected, but no one on the bridge mistook his intent for anything but pure unbridled aggression, "Mr. Sarac... If you want something on Yorktown, you ask me. If you go behind my back, if you harass the crew, if you so much as think about breathing a countermand to any of my orders, standing or otherwise, I will flush you out the aft mine launcher, and I mean that in all seriousness." Laren nodded abruptly to the Captain, then refocused on the holo-image, intentionally ignoring Sarac. The Captain offered the suited agent a withering glare, "What do you want the feed for?" Sarac raised an eyebrow, "That is, firstly none of your concern, and second above your pay-grade. I am an intelligence agent, this is a world altering event. I'm sure someone of your mental caliber can extrapolate from there." The Captain pursed his lips, then shrugged, "Alright. Video feed only. No data, one way conduit," he gestured to a technician and then to Sarac, "Ensign, see to it that CIC establishes the link as specified. No more, no less." The Captain returned to the table, standing opposite Admiral Laren and leaving no good close viewing angles for Sarac. The agent eschewed further verbal complaints, opting to stand several paces behind Laren near the far bridge wall. For several more moments, the drone swept in a circular arc. Finally, the shimmering wall of the barrier reappeared. Laren and the Captain both leaned forward, Sarac merely stiffened, his intake of breath audible and sharp. The wall of light was no longer opaque; visible light was passing through, and the cameras of Recon-1 were relaying clear images of an ocean, and a sky. But an ocean and a sky unlike anything seen on earth in decades. The water was a vibrant shade of living blue, cresting in caps of pure white foam. The sky a velvet expanse, filled with splotches of color, billions of pinpricks of light, and an immense glittering crescent of silver. The only distortion came from tendrils and eddies of translucent light slowly ebbing and flowing back and forth across the surface of the barrier. In Laren's estimation it made the entire anomaly look like nothing so much as a giant bubble of soap resting on the water. The Captain spoke first, "My God. Its... What are we seeing here?" In response, the Admiral quietly tapped the nearest communications panel, "CIC, bridge; what are the preliminary results of your spectral analysis?" After an unusually long pause, a stammering reply came over the speaker, "Bridge... aah... our analysis is showing trace energies that we don't have the expertise or facilities to classify. We've exhausted our scanning pallets down here; we won't know more until someone on-shore gets a good look at it. Orders?" The Captain leaned towards the comm panel and interjected, "Is there anything to indicate whether its solid or permeable?" "Well our tomographic imagers can't penetrate it, but Ladar and Sonar both send back return pings." The Admiral nodded, intuiting the Captain's line of reasoning, "Alright. Send the drone in." "Yes sir, standby." As the drone rolled over, the barrier filled the lens. The discrepancy between ashen and starlit sky diminished, until only a view of the strange new anomaly world was visible in the camera. The imager had enough resolution to pick up the swirls and eddies of the barrier, which grew until it seemed as if they were part of the lens itself rather than the world outside. The small distance readout at the bottom of the holo-window swiftly wound down to zero. The instant the nose of the craft hit the barrier there was a flash, followed by static. The words 'signal lost' blinked insistently in the center of the snowed-out holoscreen. Sarac stepped forward and squinted, "What just happened?" "Bridge, CIC... we just lost contact with the drone. Sensors registered an explosion of some kind." The Admiral stared into the static for a moment, then sighed, "Dump the contents of the remote black box back to Centcom. Restart the CAP with a set minimum safe distance, and prepare for VTOL scouting runs." As Laren switched off the comm, the Captain reset the holotable to its standard LADAR-based area display, shaking his head, "I don't see much point in a combat air patrol... what interest could terrorists have in the barrier?" The Admiral stepped slowly towards the main bank of windows, and stared off into the distance; eyes fixed on the barrier, which was visible even from the Yorktown's relatively safe eight mile distant position. When Laren finally spoke, there was an undertone in his voice that concerned even Sarac, though the man was unlikely to admit it, "If what we have just seen is indeed another world, then I see no reason why we should assume that just because we can't go in... that nothing can come out." Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 8th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment) Two and Three Quarter Hours After Sunset RES Ascendant with Royal Expeditionary Force 2 NM East of The Barrier (Equestrian Side) Flux darted through the busy corridors of the ship with abandon; most of the crew seemed too focused on their own tasks to care about the scientist's presence in the first place. The Princess had sent a summons, and that could mean only one thing; they had arrived. When the Unicorn's head finally passed through a hatch and into the light of the moon, the sight was so riveting that he paused on the stairwell. Flux would have likely stood for several more minutes in shock, had his position not been blocking a major hatchway. A gruff pegasus shook him from his musings, and he finally made his way fully onto the deck. Spread out before the ship was the blue of the ocean, lacquered in liquid silver by the moon above. But the familiar and ethereally beautiful sight came to an abrupt end two miles off the bow. Where there ought to have been a horizon there was instead a shimmering wall. The barrier was so tall and wide that it appeared flat, and Flux spent several moments trying to mentally decide whether it was more logical for it to be curved or truly horizontal. His internal debate was silenced, however, the moment he realized that the wall was mostly transparent. He refocused his eyes, and shivered. Beyond the wall lay an ocean, but one unlike any he had ever seen or heard tell of. The waves were rendered in shades of teal and gray, as if tossed by a storm. The sky was black, without stars or moon. A pale half-light seemed to shine on everything, as if the lunar face were obscured by clouds. The only other illumination came from a slight fall-off produced by Equestria's moon as it shone across the wall in the fabric of everything. Flux's introspection was finally put to an end entirely by the arrival of Luna and the Gryphons from the upper deck. Luna spoke first, gesturing towards the barrier with one silver-clad hoof, "What can you observe?" Flux stammered and shook his head, "Well... I... I wouldn't know where to begin! Its massive... I'm not quite sure if it has curvature..." Sildinar interrupted in a flat monotone, "It has a slight concave curve." Flux tilted his head and sighed, "Well I could only hazard a guess, but if we can compare the angle of the curvature on this side, and on the other, we may be able to determine the size difference between the two worlds. Other than that I have little to note save for the strange light patterns on the surface itself." Luna turned her attention to the Gryphons, "And of the world beyond? What can your eyes see?" Brelik answered with his usual deep, curt, deadpan manner, "The sea is dead; there is no life to be seen as far as my vision extends. The sky is shrouded, not by clouds but by some sort of veil... as if the expanse itself were opaque." Luna stood for several moments, the wind tossing her mane just enough for the deck lanterns to add a golden cast to the sparkling silver pinpricks that matched the stars above. She spoke slowly at first, but with surety, "We will hold here until morning. I would suggest that you all do your best to sleep for the remainder of the night. Tomorrow will require much... of us all." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 19:13 GMT ACV-10 UES Yorktown 5 NM West of The Barrier (Earth Side) Firebrand was usually not one to rush; she had witnessed far too many pilots inflict injury on themselves thanks to a rushed pre-flight. But had she been asked to describe her activity, she would have used the word 'rushing.' As she scrambled to finish the checklist, a team of medics were busy loading a crash cart, stretchers, and harnesses into the back of the VTOL. The men were trained in rescue swimming and every potentially useful life-saving technique. If Puller and Thornton were still alive, Lieutenant Sorden was positive the med techs would be equipped to care for them. Firebrand's primary concern was finding her CO and his charge. Should they still be alive. FLIR, tomographic imaging, LADAR, and even subsurface sonar could only have so much range, and the ocean was vast. Even using the final known co-ordinates of the downed VTOL as a starting point, the search was very nearly an exercise in futility. She shook her head and concentrated even harder on the checklist; it wouldn't do to make a mistake thanks to emotional distraction. As she tallied off the final box, Sorden was surprised to hear a voice from the open door of the cockpit, "I hope you have room for a couple more." The lieutenant turned to see Agents Calton and Konem standing expectantly near the door, bundled in gray digital camouflage jackets and sporting pairs of high powered binoculars. Before she could answer, Konem spoke, "Before you answer, you should know that Cal is physically incapable of hearing the word 'no' with regards to her suggestions." Firebrand shrugged and chuckled, "I'm ok with it, but I don't know why you think another two pairs of eyes are going to be any use." Cal marched around to the other side of the cockpit, opened the door, and began deftly strapping herself in, "As much as I hate Thornton's sorry stuck-up ass, its mine to protect until further notice. We're coming." As Konem climbed into the rear compartment with the med-techs, Firebrand shook her head and began the engine start sequence, "Suit yourself. Boss would probably say the same thing in your place. Just... make sure you fasten that harness tight. I don't do luxury chauffeuring." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 19:14 GMT Government Facility A52-S429 Location Classified "It is a full scale collision event." Asp nodded at Krait's words, gazing into the hologram above the Keep's main table, "The observations of Component 93501-A verify the projections we initiated after The Scientist's research became known to us." Adder tilted his head slightly, "Nero contingency is in full effect. We are prepared." Krait raised an eyebrow, "What of the Scientist?" Asp shook his head, and twisted the selector control in the center of his panel, displaying a report who's heading and timestamp identified it as an intra-department communique from the UES Yorktown, "He is considered missing in action. The projections list a ninety seven point six eight percent probability that he was consumed when the anomaly expanded into the barrier." Krait summoned newsfeeds to the three screens facing each man, "What of the media? The situation is beyond even our ability to fully contain. Information on the nature of the barrier will shortly become public." Adder sighed and straightened his lapels, "There is, as you said, nothing we can do to prevent this from transpiring. Our best course of action is to temper any optimism or enthusiasm in the media as much as possible to instill concern in the public." Asp raised an eyebrow, "And if this is a beachhead scenario?" Krait responded flatly, "Then we will take more agressive steps to ensure the media places the spin we require on any information they disseminate. Our concern should be Component 93501-A; he has reported difficulty in securing the cooperation of military assets." Adder nodded and rose, "Component 93501-A must remain on-station to deliver information as the scenario unfolds. A-level status grants him the clearance to act from within the field to prevent or stave off a beachhead scenario. We must transmit verification orders to authorize autonomous Nero Contingency actions." Asp nodded and rose, "Agreed." After a pause, Krait followed suit, "Agreed." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 20:55 GMT VTOL SAR-1 1 NM West of The Barrier (Earth Side) "It makes you wonder..." Konem's voice trailed off reverently as he stared out the open portside door, binoculars pressed to his eyes and fixed on the barrier. Cal glanced backwards from his position in the co-pilot seat, "Hm?" Konem shrugged and re-trained his field glasses on the ocean below, "I mean... its an ocean. And stars... There are less than a thousand people alive today who have seen Earth's stars Cal. I dunno... Wouldn't you think something could be alive over there? I thought I saw a school of fish..." Firebrand spoke without taking her eyes off the controls and the view out the canopy, her words slightly mangled by the wind and the low quality of the radio channel resulting from barrier interference, "Does it matter? If we can't get in we have no way of knowing anything else until a satellite comes into range. Scuttlebut below decks says that ain't gonna happen for another nine hours or more." Konem sighed and shook his head, "What do you think is in there?" Cal snorted, "Nothing important enough that you should be thinking about *it*, instead of finding our lost men." "Sorry." Konem went back to scanning the sea. Cal laid her binoculars on the center console, and began fiddling with the FLIR controls. Firebrand offered her a curious glance, "You know how to run a flir package?" Cal nodded and stuck out her tongue in concentration, "Part of our training for diplomatic security forces is quadrotor drone operation, and part of that is learning to run a flir suite." Konem grunted, and steadied himself on a ceiling mounted handgrip as Firebrand put to VTOL into a steep turn, "I thought the guys in CIC were supposed to run all the sensing packages remotely." Cal shrugged, "I just need something to do besides stare into those lenses." For the space of a half-hour, the VTOL continued laying down a grid pattern under Sorden's guidance, mimicking the actions of dozens of other craft in its vicinity, each stocked with a medical team and sensor packages trained on both the barrier, and the sea below. The constant thrum of the engines underscored the seemingly futile exercise. The dull sound was punctuated only by brief bursts of communication traffic from Yorktown, the gusts of wind through the open side doors, and tones from the center console whenever something of potential interest passed through the sensor pallets. Lieutenant Sorden even tried pinging the downed VTOL's locator beacon, but received no response. Her best guess was that the transceiver had been fried by the EMP from the anomaly, along with the short range emergency beacon's on the missing mens' suits. After several more minutes, Cal was beginning to loose hope. She hadn't realized it fully until she had said it to Firebrand, but she felt partly responsible for Thornton's fate, and her inability to contribute to the situation was driving her mad from within. Cal sighed and reached for her binoculars, inadvertently nudging the flir control stick as she did so. The sensitive stick was responsive to even the slightest input, and the camera panned wildly, coming to rest on the barrier itself for a moment at a peculiar angle. The blond agent was prepared to reset the system, when something made her stop and stiffen. Lieutenant Sorden noted the motion, and glanced over at her co-pilot, "Something wrong?" For an answer, Cal gestured at the screen, "What does that look like to you?" Sorden's eyes widened, "I'll be. Get CIC on the channel, ask them to see if they can pinpoint that!" The lieutenant yanked back on the throttle, and rammed the stick controlling the engine tilt back, bringing the VTOL to an abrupt hover. Konem winced, "Watch it! Some of us don't have seatbelts!" Cal tapped her mic, "CIC, this is VOTL SAR-1; can you locate the two warm body signatures on our flir for us?" There was a long, tense pause, interrupted only by a two-tone from the console indicating that the AI and operators in CIC had taken over control. Finally, a voice responded, "SAR-1; I don't know how you managed this, but you are picking up a radiant angular deflection of the signature. We're running a plot to the location now." Konem moved to the entry frame of the cockpit, glanced at the screen, and whistled, "Cal... you have one hell of a lucky streak." Agent Calton tossed her head and smirked, "Don't thank me yet. We still don't have warm bodies aboard." The CIC interrupted the conversation, "SAR-1; we are feeding coordinate data to you now. SAR-4 is enroute as well. Bring 'em home safe." Firebrand grinned, and pulled the throttle back with gusto, "Roger." Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102 20:57 GMT Atlantic Ocean; Grid 11-26-A57 1.6 NM West of The Barrier (Earth Side) Colonel Puller groaned. His head hurt, his ribs hurt, and his knees hurt more than the rest combined. The veteran soldier winced, and forced one eye open. For a long moment he was unable to parse what he was seeing. Finally, it occurred to him that his view was being distorted by spit and fog on the faceplate of his hazard suit. Puller tried to move, and was met with mild resistance. He pulled hard on his left arm, and with a splash it came free of the ocean. The systems in his suit seemed to have been damaged or taken permanently offline, which meant no oxygen recycling. The only thing that had saved him from death by drowning had been the suit's mechanically driven inflation devices, which were setup to activate on hard impact, even if the suit's electrical system had been completely compromised. Puller rotated his head, and to his eternal relief glimpsed another suited form several dozen yards off. The relief swiftly turned to concern, however, when he realized that Thornton was not moving of his own accord, merely being buoyed and tossed by the waves. Before Puller could move to deflate some of his airbags and begin to swim to his companion, a loud whine began to fill his helmet. Puller knew the sound well. He turned his eyes skyward just in time to make out the subtle glow of a VTOL's engines, before unconsciousness began to creep back into the corners of his mind. As he slipped back into trauma induced slumber, Puller mumbled drearily, "That's my girl..."