: “ Appearance of the Enemy ”

Frost Outpost
The Hell's Kitchen System, Vega Sector
March 12th, 2681

This place was cataloged a long time ago. Placed into isolation for years, people forgot about it. Left it alone, leaving to rotate around a star. Frost was an unimportant planet, uninhabited, very small. Hell's Kitchen was a dead end system, with one way in and one way out. Not much out here but a single tiny yellow star burning from a very far away distance. I find it hard to believe that I was stuck on this job. See the universe. I hate those ads, especially when I fall for it. The name suits this place, Frost. One giant ball of ice and rock, spinning with an atmosphere close to earth. The sky is blue the temperature is tolerable for human exposure for a half a second. It's like living on the edge of the galaxy and all you see is the white of snow. I'm cold.

Another day, I find myself peering through my sleepy sealed eyelids to find my room flooded with the sunlight pouring through my tiny porthole window. I could already feel this is going to be a cold day. My room feels like it's in the low 60s. Thankfully, I lie still in the snug warmth of my heavy comforter blanket. The digital clock on the wall tells me it's 05:02. It's too damn early and the sun is up. I think about work.

I ponder another lame ass excuse not to go. I hated high school; I hate this, too - it's just like high school. Aw hell, I'm stuck on this ice ball, why the hell not. My official title is the Maintenance Personnel on board the mining expedition. Who the hell am I kidding I'm a fucking janitor. The crew of 40, I don't know much about them, cause they're too busy doing other shit. Only recently I've worked a lot more than usual since Harvey, my boss and the only other guy in my section calls in sick every few days. I don't know what's up with him I've seen how he looks, shitty. The doc says he'll be fine, it's just the cold getting to him and sent him on his merry way. I've noticed a bunch of new faces on this outpost too.

There are five main habitats, the shelter, the workstation, power/life support, central and the reception pad. This isn't a very large place. The Reception is the largest of all of them. It's big enough to store the same amount of cargo as a fully loaded Military Transport. The Shelter is second, housing the hundred a few others as they come and go. Food is served in the mess hall and the trade goods are sold and bought in the Commodity Exchange or the swap meet that happens whenever those visitors arrive. Workstations are for the tech guys who dig up core samples and other junk like that. I sometimes stop by to wipe their windows, watching them test the samples with all these tools and stuff.

Lately, this place has been getting a bit crowded. I was sent into the snow a few times to guide the oncoming civilian merchants where to land. I hate that, it is cold and the damn pilots seemed to be a bunch of assholes. Yeah, ain't life great. My body lifts itself up from the bed as I give off a yawn. Thankfully I don't have to plant my feet on to the freezing metal floor, as I slip into my slippers and head off to my shower. 05:58... now I'm a bit more awake.

Rick Armstrong zips up his gray maintenance jumpsuit. He slips into his work boots and grabs his maintenance cap. He wears his cap backwards, tucking in the blonde clumps of hair. His green eyes gaze into the mirror for the usual appearance check. He grabs a small can from his cabinet. Quick Fill, instant foods for breakfast or so the packaging says. Rick twisting the doors handle, the airtight seal pops as he enters into the dormitory hallway. Bright orange letters are painted across spelling out, CREW QUARTERS.

Obvious enough, Rick pauses for a moment to find everything a bit quiet. Not the usual crowd who leaves at the same time, only the guy on the other end. Science guy, what's his name. Kenan, Rick offered a little hospitality with a friendly wave. He returned the greeting and walked in the other direction.

Rick arrived at the Maintenance checking office. A message was waiting for him. He went through the list on the computer before his name
popped in between Ah'mar and Bahen. It was a message from Harvey.

"Hey, buddy, I'm sorry I'm not in right now, but I need a favor from you. I know you will have free time later today at 1300 so take care of the of a few core sample pickups. Wear the rad suit. Thanks."

It was another isotope sample. It's actually fun, since I get to ride the Rep-Bikes. The GX-R Replusor Bike, a sweet machine, 500 KPH, sealed in cockpit, and stereo. It looks great too, a solid design, smooth, aerodynamic, black and sliver colors. Gotta love that bike.

The sappy image of Harvey flickered off when Rick leaned over the desk. Lennox just arrived. Lennox was a small guy compared to Rick, about 5'1 to Rick's elevated 6'3". Both had an average build, but Rick towered over Lennox, who made his way passed his colossal co-worker. Standing there like the giant he is, Rick pondered more about the bike when his shift was beginning,

Instantly the dream bubble burst when Lennox spoke out, "Do you mind?" Rick jumped out of the way. A few minutes passed when Rick got everything together. His shift started with a quick power conduit check in his section, which happens to be the corridor leading into the Reception Dome. Rick dragged his capped pen across the wall as he started his shift. Scanning the conduit for any open panels or strange noises, Rick was side tracked by the large Private Merchant Vessel in the commodities bay.

People are shouting and cheering for a reason. Something strikes Rick as weird, guys in business suits. He's never seen them around before. His assumptions were now become true. This place was harboring a bunch of the seedy characters of the Enigma Sector.

"What the hell are they dragging out?" His pen hit something, making him stop a few three inches before running into the wall. He gave a sigh of relief when he avoided the wall, the turned back to the unloading crowd.

About six to eight were crewmembers, the rest were guys in business suits. They were dragging something out of the hold. The massive container, the ship's captain ordered his men to face the container at the suits. The giant blue and steel gray container was square, about eight feet tall. The Captain jabbed a few buttons when the thing opened. Something happened, one them fainted while the rest seemed to turn to the side, nauseated. It began to fill the bay, the crew was now getting overwhelmed.

"Aw, fuckin' gross!!!" The smell hit Rick. A rotting corpse smell, he coughed for a second then he attached his helmet and turned on his Hostile Environment Suit. A blast off pure oxygen filled his helmet, good luck to those poor bastards. The container was sealed off and the head business suit guy handed the Captain a package.

Uh oh, I thought as couple of the suits came towards me, gesturing to get out of here. Who am I to argue?

Frost Outpost
Vehicle Garage
Thirty minutes later

I greeted the chief mechanic like I do when I go over here. "Hey, Crys, it's another sample run." Crystal Bently, chief mechanic of the Service Garage here on Frost. She takes care of all the mechanical problems we get with our transports and haulers. It's a cozy place, it's size of a four space garage, with a tiny room for inventory. One hauler and a Bike always occupied two of the spaces. Today it seems like all of them are here, both haulers and bikes. The Bike in lane one was always prepped and ready. Crystal always rides the thing on her free time.

I like Crystal, she's always nice and she's beautiful. She doesn't see to be the dirty grease monkey I've assume were always in garages. She's smart, funny, and smells great even in here. Friendly to everyone, and rarely acts the rough and gruff like some backwater garage yokels. She was fairly clean at most times, sporting a dark gray jump suit. Her deep brown hair was always tied into a large braid that hung down to her waist but she always tucked it into her black overalls.

Crystal looks great today, less grease on her face and here top have of the overalls are hang at her waist, she's wearing a gray T-shirt that clings on her. The familiar feeling of jitters hits me, a sensation that seems to loosen your confidence slightly. I hesitate before saying what I needed to say.

"What's with the suit?" she asks.

"It's a irradiated sample. I think in the Northeast Pass. I think some sort of new mining tests will be held there." I'm giving out way too much information and boring the hell out of her. Where's the casual conversation? Damn.

"Oh, okay. See you when you get back." She gives a smile and continues to work on a small power distributor in her hand. She picks at it and walks away as I head over to the bike. I start to sulk a bit as a drag myself over to the bike. Crash and Burn, what's this the third time I think I tried to talk to her. The bike is about the 3/4ths the size of a car. A single tap to the cockpit and canopy slides it open. I settle myself in, leaning back, the handle controls automatically adjust to my size. I place my HES helmet onto my lap and jab a few other buttons.

Start… Display… Capacity normal, banks full, repulsor rate at 34.2 TRDs per second, maneuvering stable, power transfer rate at 220, sensor readout, all right I'm ready to go. I apply a bit of pressure on the accelerator. Then the Canopy seals me in. The garage doors open to the pristine white snow of the icy Frost. The sky is completely blue, not a single cloud, with the sun shining incredibly, I floor the bike. All I see is a flat bed of white divided with a blue ceiling, there are no other colors at all. The yellow digital gauge is clicking my speed at 403 KPH and rising. I feel the bit of G-forces pushing against me while I blaze a trail of white from behind. The bike is kicking up the snow, leaving a giant trail of rising powder.

One day later. . .

Northeast Pass
Camp 02

Sometimes things don't always work out as planned. I'm still stuck here, Camp 02, it's a change of pace though. When I first arrived, they ran to me, it's seems like they had an a discovery within the last five minutes. I immediately hopped out, running over to the shelter. One they found something, buried. They had no clue on what it was since they were a mining core samples and weren't xeno-archeologists. They insisted we dig it out and I complied. We don't know what it is. It's alien for all I know. Then something strange happened. We lost all contact with Base Camp.

"Frost Outpost, this is Camp 02. Please Respond…" Doctor Mick Bouem repeated his transmission. This is weird, it doesn't sound like the Communications is busted but like we're being jammed. So they told me to get on my Bike to check it out. Dr. Bouem told me he was Military R&D Scientist, telling me stories about reverse engineering Kilrathi and a few Border Worlds Innovations. He always wanted to see a unknown alien craft. He's thinking it might be part of that new race people's being talking about. Me like most others have played down the military for so long, we've ignored the news, by using time to ourselves. Dr. Bouem is the first that I met was in the Military, Commander Bentez was in the Military, I think for the Border Worlds, a regional Lieutenant before taking up a position on this Corporate sponsored settlement.

The day was as blue and clear as yesterday. I don't get it. What's wrong? My HES suit protects me from the cold as I step out of the shelter. My bike is settled into the snow, a thin layer of ice started to form. I guess from the evaporation of the sun. Wait something is come from the afar. A trail of powder is rising, it's another bike. A moved a few feet into the snow, forcing my way through ankle deep snow. Dr. Bouem came to investigate also and the other two, Jara Harolds and Sven Cartwright.

TCS Scimitar
The Hell's Kitchen System
Jump Point Alpha

Captain's Log : Supplemental

It's been One days since we received the distress call. We finally arrived at Hell's Kitchen. We've completed the 24-hour observation of the Jump point to see who enters and exits the system. The Admiral gave the orders. We now have to carry out the orders. I think the crew knows what's going on, it's been a tense two days. God help us all.

Captain Dennis Stanford

TCS Scimitar; Bridge

A holographic projector shows off the ball of ice and rock known as Frost. It's completely white, ice, snow, and rock. Why only now did they start to mine it? One could only wonder. The planet is smaller than some asteroids, about 200,000 kilometers in diameter. You can't even tell if that the planet is spinning.

The bridge crew watches over the planet. The gleam of the metallic blue floors and ceiling lights illuminates the bridge sufficiently. The Helmsman sits tight in one of the eight operating stations, ready to take an order at a moment's notice. Captain Stanford contemplates on his decision, while Commander Ishikawa attended another matter off the bridge.

TCS Scimitar; Hanger Bay

Major Franklin Caster knew the difference between a Launch Deck and a Hanger Bay. And this was a Hanger Bay, a pocket where the TCS Scimitar can store its fighters and shuttles. It isn't very big, holding half a squadron of eight Tigersharks and a single Condor shuttlecraft. The five of the eight fighters are lined up in the back, with a meter to spare in between each. The tone of the hanger was a bland light gray, with a large Scimitar Insignia and a Confed Star. The Condor was position on the far right of the hanger beside the wall and near the energy-shielded entrance. Opposite of the Condor was the Emergency prep Tigershark, used as the first one to launch. Fueled and loaded with an intercept payload, it's the one who's usually out on scouting missions.

Usually five deck hands are working at time. All of them are working on a fighter or the Condor. But today was different as Major Franklin Caster stepped into the Hanger Bay accompanied by Commander Ishikawa. Major Caster turned to the XO, who gave him one last bit of information before standing at the bottom of his fighter. Commander Ishikawa tugged on his blue Navy Uniform, then saluted to the Major. The Major had his flightsuit on, he saluted in return before he went up the ladder. The fighter payload was named Objective 12. A gray cylindrical object was attached to the belly of the fighter, hooking on two missile racks. The Major knew his mission, and so did Commander Ishikawa. The fighter lifted off, blasting a gale force wind downward. The main engines kicked in as the fighter passed through the shields and into the darkness of the void.

Frost Outpost
Resident Dome, Medical Ward

"It's hard to describe. What could have caused something like this." Dr. Anthony Penn hurried down the corridor of the white sterile walls of the Medical Ward. The Medical Ward is the size of a small clinic, a few beds here and there. It wasn't much. Their feet echo as the sound bounces of the walls. James Avery held a large container of medical supplies and followed the Doctor.

Their footsteps grow silent as they stop near the entrance to the medical ward. A row of body bags began to pile up in front. The only stared in awe at the horrific events unfolded. Nurse Dale Hernandez grimly walked out of the medical ward in a full bio-suit. "This exactly what happened on Telamon." Hernandez morbidly answers.

"But the first reported case was just six hours ago!" Dr. Penn answered in shock.

"How many?" Avery asked hesitantly.

"32 dead, and 20 more are still alive."

"I have received a message from the Confederation, they will quarantining the planet and they will send us some supplies," Avery informed the two.

"There are 96 people on this Outpost. There will be 52 dead in four more hours. Who will be here to receive these supplies?" Hernandez barked angrily. "The 32nd Case died twenty Minutes ago. Here's the first case, a Hal Morton. Crew Member, on the Raven Delphi private merchant Vessel." He pointed to another body bag. "Commander Bentez is in that one. Marshal Roland is inside ICU. She's on life support, but she will be dead in an hour and she is the last of the command staff.

"Do we know what caused it?"

"A mutation, an unknown virus entered the First Case, then he coughed out the airborne pathogen which is killing everyone on this outpost." Suddenly the sound of a sonic boom was heard. The three medical workers instantly grabbed a parka and headed outside. The corridors of the outpost were eerily empty as they ran. Their patients already knew their fate, some were already vegetables, soon their bodies will follow once the horrid green infection will consume the rest of bodies, resulting in cardiac arrest. The medical officers weren't looking to help the dying, but to save their own asses from such a fate.

Camp 02

"Crystal?" I called out when I saw the canopy open. The four of us ran to her as she leaped out of the Bike. She was gasping hard, her icy breath was rising every two seconds. She was out of breath, she took a moment before speaking.

"Something is wrong at the Outpost!!! Carl told me to run, I had no where else to go when I saw them." There is a disease at the Outpost. I managed to escape without getting touched. Two of the scientists began to back away slowly. I took notice, turning my head to them.

"What's wrong?" I asked and turned towards the doctor.

"We know what she's talking about. I can't not explain it right now." Cyrstal's eyes looked at me with worry. I don't know what to do… Boom, the sound of a sonic boom hits, and I look up to the clear blue sky.

"Come on we need to get on a ship and go to a Confed Station!" I shouted. Dr. Bouem grabbed me by the shoulder.

"Just wait." He said. Now I'm confused, what does he know and why should I wait?

Tigershark 101
Atmospheric Entry

Major Caster watched the shields flicker as the friction of the atmosphere tested the limits of the shield generator. A burning orange glow illuminated the Tigershark as it entered Frost. The new Terran Confederation starfighter is the direct descendent of the venerable Hellcat, and the one of the few Space/Atmospheric fighters on the Terran Confederation inventory. Major Caster never felt so tense in his entire life. Fly in, drop it, fly out. The simplicity of the mission this was the most nerve racking. Major Caster set his mind aside as he pulled a few maneuvers to get a feel of the bog down condition in an atmosphere. The KPS was changed to KPH and the weapons were automatically adjusted to an Atmosphere environment.

He knew what was going on, about a hundred people, inside that outpost. He remembered the conversation he had with Captain Stanford. The risk of infection and a close glimpse of the victims on board the TCS Devonshire. A whole frigate that was infected with the plague, hundreds of will die if this spreads. The Terran Confederation Center for Disease Control is working nonstop on what is causing this and ways to stop it. But the generals and admirals have a quicker solution.

He felt numb at the concept of it all, thinking about the thousands that will die, the suffering and pain, the on going war. A single beep from his computer notified him of the target. He gained visual contact. He thought about his duty and the orders. He slammed on the afterburner and aligned the fighter with the outpost. A single clunk sound and the massive gray cylindrical bomb separated from the Tigershark.

"I'm sorry…" The Tigershark's afterburners flared a blazing blue as it skyrocketed upwards. Screaming away, the fighter's shields began to glow with friction as the gray bomb gained momentum with the freefall downwards.

Frost Outpost
Entrance 04

Kicking snow, the doctors stared at the sky for a familiar object. A shuttle, or an Assault Landing Craft. Their eyes squinted, looking for something, anything. The sound of a thunder alerted them to the Tigershark. Carl pointed to the Tigershark then noticed the object falling.

The three medical officers were expecting supplies, as they hoped for a shuttle. They realized what it was in the still silence on top of Frost's barren snow covered terrain. Dr. Anthony Penn, Dale Hernandez and James Avery stood and closed their eyes.

The flash came instantly, white-hot and blinding, then the incredible surge of destructive energy emerged, the arctic settlement goes to one million degrees in less than a second. Everything was vaporized within a quarter of a kilometer radius.

One hour later. . .

Frost Outpost

There were only two radiation suits, Dr. Bouem's and mine. We waited until the area cooled off. I nodded my head in disbelief. All that remained was a circle of exposed dirt, a light brown color, dirt that has never seen the light of day for a million years. The blast vaporized the encrusted layer of ice in a millisecond. As we gotten closer to ground zero, a crater formed a grimly perfect circle.

Dr. Bouem doesn't find it as a shock, as if he seen this happen before. We turned the bikes around and headed back to the campsite.

One week later. . .

SS Gehern
Olympus Merchant Vessel

This is a war with a new set of rules, and a new mentality. We survived it but it isn't over for us. Dr. Bouem is pulling some strings to get us information on what happened. This might not be my war, I am not a soldier, but I'm going find out what is going on.

The explanation was that the Confed ship that launched the attack jumped out a day later. The SS Gehern managed to catch our repeat transmission on a routine stop. He found nothing except us. We would have been all dead.

TCS Scimitar
Mistral Sea Task Force

"I've read your report on the first use of Objective 12 in this theatre. Good work, you've saved lives. Good luck, we'll be on the move soon so keep yourselves alert. Good bye, Dennis."

Captain Stanford watched the transmission from Admiral Tupelov without saying a word. He knew that the enemy isn't just in front of us anymore. Ishikawa was sent over to the Mistral Sea, on tactical observations. The feeling of guilt still lingers, affecting the whole ship in away. Captain Stanford turns his view onto the gigantic ship in his viewport. The fate of the Terran Confederation will depend upon the actions of this Fleet.

FINIS