Parker's Folly by Doug L Hoffman Page B

stick around, if you don't mind.”
    “You bet, Captain,” added Bobby, vigorously nodding his head.
    “Me too, Sir,” added Jo Jo Medina from his engineering station. “With you and the ship all the way.”
    “All right then. Start the procedure for departure. Be ready to activate the bottom repulsors on command, gentlemen. Engineer Medina, start powering up all internal systems.”
    “Aye aye, Sir.” came the chorus of replies.
    “Engineering, Bridge, Dr. Gupta I need those engines online now, if you please.” A short pause.
    “Ah, this is Engineering. Did I understand you want me to start the main reactors?”
    “That is correct, Dr. Gupta. We are preparing for immediate departure. Break. Environmental, Bridge.”
    “Bridge, Environmental, go ahead.” came a feminine voice.
    “Miss Hamilton, please secure the hydroponics section for immediate departure.”
    “Yes, Sir. I'll have Lt. Bear help lock things down...”
     

Dirigible Hanger, Parker's Ranch
    Outside of the ship, the Marines were standing, gawking at the gleaming spaceship in front of them as Lieutenant Merryweather and the Gunny conferred. “There doesn't seem to be anyone around, Sir. At least outside the ship. Davis reports he saw movement in the glass nose up front. Do we board the ship, Sir?”
    “I don't know, Sergeant. Our orders were somewhat vague. As long as there is no resistance and the ship doesn't move I think we should just hold in position. I'm trying to get clarification from HQ via relay through the Osprey.” After inserting the squad, the MV-22 climbed to altitude and was orbiting the ranch at 5,000 feet. In theory it provided a radio link between the Marines on the ground and the command authority.
    “Yes, Sir. Just in case, I would like to take half the squad down to that large hatch aft and see if there is any activity inside. With your permission, Sir?”
    “Sure Gunny, roger that. Just don't board the ship.”
    * * * * *
    “You're taking off right now? This isn't some trick to just get us off the ship is it?” Susan was a bit putout that they had been evicted from the Captain's comfortable office and were being summarily thrown off the ship. The interview with the Captain was in the can and already sent to the station, but they were still editing shots from the bridge and lounge with Susan doing a voice over.
    “I'm very sorry about this, Ms. Write. But the Captain has ordered all visitors to disembark and the ship to prepare for immediate departure.” Lt. Curtis was trying to hustle her two charges into the forward crew hatch. The crew hatch was an airlock, aft of the bridge, that allowed access from the lower deck to the ship's exterior. From the bottom lip of the outer door, a self-extending ramp provided an inclined gangway down to the scaffolding surrounding the ship.
    “Come on Miss Susan,” urged JT. “You said that you didn't want to be on the first flight. We got some good stuff already. Maybe we can get some footage of the ship leaving the hangar and taking off?”
    With that he stepped out onto the gangway and, looking aft said, “Hey, there's a bunch of armed soldiers out here!” From force of habit, he raised the camera to his shoulder and began filming.
    * * * * *
    “Hey look,” said Doc White. “There are people coming down the brow.” Brow is the Navy term for a plank or gangway from ship to shore when a ship is lying alongside a pier. The Marines were standing roughly amidships, with the large cargo door aft and the smaller, personnel hatch forward. The bottom of the personnel hatch opening was a couple of meters higher than the scaffolding deck, requiring the use of a gangway ramp.
    “WEAPON!” Yelled PFC Reagan, seeing the large black man at the top of the gangway raising something bulky, possibly a missile launcher, to his shoulder.
    KAK! KAK! KAK!
    PFC Sanchez fired a three shot burst at the man on the side of the ship. The burst was followed by the high-pitched whine of ricocheting