Operation Musket

[l3wt]

James tried to wipe off a bit of the blood that had gotten on the captain's console, but it was a futile prospect. Ultimately, he ignored it. Instead, he'd opted to shut off the blaring klaxon, as well as send Java Station an automated launch request. He took the time to switch the GUI language from French to English, too - he bloody well wasn't going to try and figure out this boat's systems with a language he was not very comfortable with. Seconds after, a green response message winked in his face."Sir, we're clear for launch. Looks like station administration hasn't noticed anything. Proceeding with pre-flight checks. Once we link up with Jaeger's Camara, we can transfer a full instance of JADE to this system."

Eisenhart nodded. "Good. Once we're in space, do a full decompression override and sweep for survivo- No, belay that order." There was a very sudden shift in Eisenhart's voice - a strain of urgency that hadn't been there before.

James continued with the pre-flight checks, but his superior's tone gave him pause. "Sir?"

Eisenhart seemed wound up, never looking up from the manifest. "We have live passengers in the hold below. Civilians outbound from Lyon, five people." James stopped working.

Something was not right about how he said that. "Just five, commander?"

"Family of five, Lieutenant. We've got kids on this boat. IDFS sometimes provides cheap passage aboard their freighters. I'm guessing these people came to the Taus looking for work."

A long string of curses flowed forth from Herrin. "All due respect, sir, but I'm not spacing any kids. We can't-"

Eisenhart cut him off before he could launch a rant. "Noted, Herrin. Watch the door. And I agree. We have standards."

Webb snorted. "Not if you ask these guys," he said, gesturing towards the two dead crewmen still sprawled on the floor.

"Never said high standards, Webb. Agreed?" Eisenhart said quietly. Webb nodded. He wouldn't argue. "Arland... Anything you'd like to add before I make the call?"

"Well, sir... I could be an arsehole and mention OPSEC, but we all know that's irrelevant in the face of this. That's why we're the ones doing this job, not just random psychopaths." James promptly finished the flight checks, began the launch procedure.

Eisenhart nodded. "Alright, listen, this is what we'll do. Get me eyes on the civvies, we'll decompress all the compartments but the ones they're in. Then we'll sweep and clear as planned, secure the civvies, have them processed in Liberty space. No loose ends, no civilian casualties. Understood?"

All of them voiced their affirmatives. "Taking her out now. We lose gravity in ten," James said - the engines rumbled, and the team could feel weight shift under their feet - then disappear as the ship dragged itself out the hangar bay doors.

Eisenhart signaled for the team to get ready to move. "Magboots, people, we go once we have a better overview of the ship. Lieutenant, how are we doing on that?"

Magboots anchoring James to the deck, he opened a view panel for security camera feeds. He studied it intensely, the resolution was decent enough to make out most details. "Tracking movement in the cargo hold, sir. Give me a moment." Between crates of cargo, a small space had been set aside for the passengers to travel in relative comfort. A woman sat strapped to modular seating with three children beside her - one girl, James gauged her to be in her early teens. Two boys, one aged roughly the same as the girl, one much younger. Primary school-aged, thereabouts. The woman appeared to be engaging them in idle chatter, attempting to comfort her children, but everything about her bodylanguage struck her as uneasy, unconvinced of her own platitudes. "Sir, we're missing one. Presumably the father. I can't see him on the hold, airlock or engineering cameras. Looks like IDFS skimped on the costs for cameras in the hallway. He may have gone to investigate the disturbance. I'll seal the doors, but I'm not decompressing. We'll just have to be careful and check our fire."

Eisenhart sounded displeased, but didn't disagree. "Alright, let's go. Webb, on me. We'll take port side. Arland, you and Herrin have starboard again, make a full sweep and PID your targets."

They stomped back up the stairs from which they came, magboots making walking an ungainly and slow process, but they didn't have much choice. Freefloating came with disadvantages of its own - loss of coordination was common, and if you were stuck with nothing to push off from at the wrong moment, you were just a floating target.

Going back to the airlock, they had two options - the crew quarters, which were likely to be small and cramped on a little boat like this, and going a deck down to engineering and the cargo hold. James motioned for Herrin to hold while he swept right towards the mess and crew quarters. The hallway was clear enough. Two doors - both on the left-hand side. James hit the first one, sliced around the corner as quickly as he could with his feet slowed by the magnets.

Inside were three sets of bunk beds, enough for six - and their personal effects. A man was rummaging furiously through a footlocker by one of the bunks. "Arrête!" James called out.

The man reflexively whirled around, a handgun muzzle sweeping over James - then past, as the momentum kept the man spinning beyond what he'd intended - a bullet slammed into the doorframe next to James.

In turn, the Bretonian operative failure-drilled the man, snapped two rounds off in his chest area, then he scattered the man's brain on the wall with a final, aimed shot. Blood drained from the corpse into the zero-gravity environment, floating around it like a shroud - interspersed with bone and grey matter.

James turned away, quickly opened and scanned the mess hall as well.

Then he opened a link to Eisenhart. "One contact down, team one. Armed. Not sure if it was our man... He tried to play hero. Status on your end?"