Shannon Trevor
One Thousand Club
The crew of the Relentless had arrayed themselves around the viewscreen that dominated the back wall of the small briefing room. "Planet designation PX-05-C03," the automated narrator of the video explained as the desert world grew larger. Colonel John Haverson leaned casually against a bulkhead. He had already seen the briefing but wanted to be present for his crew receiving it. Questions would be inevitable, not that the Colonel would be able to provide much more than the video. Satellites and drones could only tell you so much. As Pathfinders, it was their job to put boots on the ground and clear the way for the survey teams.
Tall, tanned and flint jawed, John was effortlessly handsome. At forty six he was in better shape than most men half his age.His dark hair had greyed at the temples and laughter lines furrowed his brow and tugged at the corner of each eye but neither feature could be considered a blemish, rather they added to the Colonel's distinguished good looks.
Today, he was dressed in his preferred attire of Pathfinder Initiative fatigues. The short-sleeved midnight blue shirt was worn tight to his muscular frame, clinging to a broad chest. His camo pants framed a strong and toned pair of legs while the black combat boots were polished to perfection. A large, gold chronograph watch clasped onto John's left wrist completed the look of one of the Initiative’s most experienced officer's.
He scanned the room as the video continued. It was a mishmash of experienced personnel and rookies. Moire stood next to him, which John supposed, was the perfect summation of their relationship. The Gunnery Sergeant had been with him for a little under two years. Upbeat, cheerful and unrelentingly optimistic, she was also positively deadly and had pulled his ass out of the fire on more than one occasion. John was just glad she was on their side.
"...identified as a potential golden world, C03 enjoys significant natural resources..."
John's eyes drifted around to the rest of his crew. Olsen and Nova were known commodities and John trusted them both. Olsen, like Moire was a steady presence ground side and perhaps more importantly, a damn fine cook. Considering their food choices had previously tended to come down to a selection of either protein paste or compound bars, John considered Olsen's value to his crew to be priceless.
"...enjoys an Orbital Period of 1.6 Earth Years. Average surface temperature is 19 °C. The Radius is 5'752 kilometres....."
Sartre and McLennan had barely been on board long enough to get past initial introductions. The new science officer and medic, replacing a transfer and promotion respectively, were both quiet. Not surprising, John supposed, coming onto a new ship and a new crew. The Colonel had no doubt both would soon find their place.
"....Designated as a potential red level, owing to sudden and violent electrical storms and several native fauna believed to be territorial and extremely aggressive..."
Tall, tanned and flint jawed, John was effortlessly handsome. At forty six he was in better shape than most men half his age.His dark hair had greyed at the temples and laughter lines furrowed his brow and tugged at the corner of each eye but neither feature could be considered a blemish, rather they added to the Colonel's distinguished good looks.
Today, he was dressed in his preferred attire of Pathfinder Initiative fatigues. The short-sleeved midnight blue shirt was worn tight to his muscular frame, clinging to a broad chest. His camo pants framed a strong and toned pair of legs while the black combat boots were polished to perfection. A large, gold chronograph watch clasped onto John's left wrist completed the look of one of the Initiative’s most experienced officer's.
He scanned the room as the video continued. It was a mishmash of experienced personnel and rookies. Moire stood next to him, which John supposed, was the perfect summation of their relationship. The Gunnery Sergeant had been with him for a little under two years. Upbeat, cheerful and unrelentingly optimistic, she was also positively deadly and had pulled his ass out of the fire on more than one occasion. John was just glad she was on their side.
"...identified as a potential golden world, C03 enjoys significant natural resources..."
John's eyes drifted around to the rest of his crew. Olsen and Nova were known commodities and John trusted them both. Olsen, like Moire was a steady presence ground side and perhaps more importantly, a damn fine cook. Considering their food choices had previously tended to come down to a selection of either protein paste or compound bars, John considered Olsen's value to his crew to be priceless.
"...enjoys an Orbital Period of 1.6 Earth Years. Average surface temperature is 19 °C. The Radius is 5'752 kilometres....."
Sartre and McLennan had barely been on board long enough to get past initial introductions. The new science officer and medic, replacing a transfer and promotion respectively, were both quiet. Not surprising, John supposed, coming onto a new ship and a new crew. The Colonel had no doubt both would soon find their place.
"....Designated as a potential red level, owing to sudden and violent electrical storms and several native fauna believed to be territorial and extremely aggressive..."
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