Into The Rift

Alarming Circumstances (41)

-0031 Military Hours
-Tartarus Base, 16th of April

Shooting on sight will be authorized, this is the first it's been allowed," James mutters over the silence, breaking the tension with a careful tone.

"It's a necessity, just in case," I say.

He pushes on, "Not going to question it?"

I push down a weary sigh, maintaining a firm hold on my voice. "Not now at least, we all need some sleep first."

"Agreed," he says, heading away from the Operation's Wing, casting a puzzled glance at me shortly after.

"... you're not coming?"

I shake my head at his question, a thought stopping my legs from moving. "Not yet, need to clarify on something regarding the mission. You go ahead with the rest, this shouldn't take long," I assure my teammate, fixed on my intentions.

"Alright," James went off, bidding the quiet farewell under his breath.

I take a deep breath before trudging back into the Operations Wing, back to the place of intense discussions not ten minutes prior. My eyes survey the room for Meagan Pierce, finding her still with that heavy look on her face.

"Ma'am," I call out to the Operations Officer, stepping into her field of vision. She looks up to me, surprise evident in her posture as she focuses her attention on me, the dark bags under her eyes expressing the scope of her mental fatigue.

"What is it Lieutenant," Meagan says, more of a statement than a question. The rest of the command staff pay no attention to my sudden return as I gather the words lodged in my throat.

"The reconnaissance mission to Visegrad..." I begin, eyes locked onto the table. At the very least, I owe her my opinions regarding her plans. "Our own risk of casualties will be substantial, even more so without external support."

"I know it's not ideal, but you have to work with it," she replies. "If it really turns out the outpost, and everyone in it has been captured by the locals, it's up to you to conduct asset denial. Anything we can't bring back, it must go up in smoke."

"Fair enough." I issue her a small nod, going along with her answer.

It is reasonable, but something about the explanation prompts me to further continue the conversation. "You know that directive's drawn up from Cygnus Station." I retort, indirectly referencing the state of the Rift as distant memories of the Antarctic landscape fill my head.

The implications of what I said did not pass over her head unchecked. She ponders from across the table, the frown on her lips growing more evident by the second. Cygnus is no longer relevant to our operating procedures, and Meagan knows it.

For all intents and purposes, we are on our own. Jupiter Contingency is the only certainty for us, a basic guideline to keep us afloat in the mess we are in.

"It is, but as far as we're concerned that directive still is in effect. I need boots down south on Visegrad. Secondary objectives will focus on rescue if possible, I know you all can handle whatever's thrown your way. I've gone over everyone's files, your fireteam included," she answers, giving me a rough idea of what I can expect.

"It all seems hastily planned, we have no advanced intel on the island as it is," I comment, averting my eyes to the side. "No promises... but we'll do the best we can." She seems adamant on this particular course of action, I will have to trust her judgement even if it is a massive risk.

"I just have one request if it's possible," I declare, taking note to keep my words in line.

"What would it be Simmons?" Meagan answers, using my surname to indicate her heightened attention on me.