The Rhino 834-R rattles, careering over the blasted landscape at what has to be maximum speed for the vehicle, indicating that it is far from perfectly maintained. Some of the gear-lockers are unlocked, rattling and slamming, some of the lids missing or cracked. The lights flicker when a boulder is shoved out of the way, showering debris that clatter and bang down on the top of the armoured top.
The driver, strapped in with four out of the eight straps, turns in his seat and calls back to you all in the back compartment. “Sorry about that, everyone. I am just pushing this crate as hard as it will take. You can turn on the holo in a minute, I just need to get out of this canyon.”
A minute or so later the rattling subsides to a motorized humming as the gearboxes, seats and walls just shimmy a bit. The lights are steady, and the holo comes to life. Arbul Nek, chief administrator for the terraformed and controlled regions of Ulson appear on the screen, his heavy bionic eye and pleasant smile carrying well over the green holo-orb display.
“Ah, there you are. Thank you for waiting. On this most urgent matter I have had to call you all to service, and I apologize for any inconvenience.
You are currently… [he checks something offscreen] just about over the Bulbous Sulfur Wastes and should be coming up on the mountainrange shortly, where I will lose transmission. I will therefore have to be brief.
In the mountains we have set up a small research station, designation Heiken L-88, just at the edge of the terraformed range. Nothing special, just running research on the newly formed terraformed lands, base geology studies, that sort of thing. 26 people living and working there on 8 month rotations. They had their last supply drop three months ago, which was handled from orbit, not by me or my administration, and have filed regular reports since. Four days ago we had a seismic disturbance, light over the horizon and a triggering of most of the RAD-sensors this half of the hemisphere. I cannot order flyovers in this region, normally due to the winds and dust, but now because of the rad-count. I have no orbital assets, so a ground-inspection is called for. That’s you.
I just need to know what happened and if communications can be restored. If they need medical attention then I need to know that too. Your transport will stop when the ground becomes impassable for it, and you have to walk the last few clicks. You won’t be in comm-range from there, but the facility has extended range antenna-arrays, so if you get those up and running you should be able to call in. If this is not an option just get back to the transport and call in from there.
Oh yes, there was one more thing. Just before the seismic sensors triggered we saw something, briefly, flash on the orbital approach vectors. Too big to be a meteor, too fast to be a ship. It is entirely possible that this was not accidental. Also, we picked up part of a transmission, but it was not directed at us, but at someone else, off orbit, and heavily scrambled. I’ll play it for you.”
The screen flickers and a heavily mangled signal comes through, with a face barely discernible through the static, calling out something that is half voice and half white noise. Some words cut through, mostly garbled, and then, for an instant, the signal is clear, and the voice carries, the face that of a man in his late 50s, with glasses, Imperial Signia tattoos on his face and neck, and blood on his collar.
“I repeat – blink 6 has failed! [static crackles] Rad at 822! [static and high-pitched feedback] beacon! It is call[the face warbles, the voice turning to hissing as the transmission cuts out].”
The administrator comes back on screen.
“That was chief researcher Fosselius. He is senior physicist, and rally overqualified, but transferred to the post a few years ago, part of his retirement I guess. I have no idea what “blink 6” is, neither does anyone else I have consulted, but a rad-count of 822 seems consistent with the drift-in we get on the wind down here.”
[There is a high-pitched whining over the speakers.]
“That’s it – you are moving out of range. If you have any questions, this is the time to ask them.”
[meta note. A rad-count of 822 at a site would be lethal, not immediately, but for an unaugmented human it is not good news. The primer states to eat two greens and one blue to be ok, for about three days. You all carry that dose, but not any additional ones, as part of your kits. A marine is not bothered by things under rad 1k.]