“Are you out of your mind?” demanded the captain. Loken looked at him blankly. The captain had an unenviable job in the next couple of hours. The Scythian had landed and the marines had been instructed to gear up and await Loken's team by the unloading ramp at the stern of the ship. “We don't have enough food to feed the entire colony!” he shouted. “We have enough for the ship's complement for a few months, if we feed even a quarter of the colony we'll have nothing.”
“We're not an aid ship. Do what you can for them, but we're both aware that you can't help everyone,” said Loken. “Half of my team will be on hand to assist you should anything awry occur. My team won't be long.” Loken dismissed the captain. He straightened his tunic and left Loken's office, seething.
Less than half an hour later Loken, and two of his officers; a tall blonde woman with her hair tied back, and a fairly short, but broad man with a shaved head and aviator-type sunglasses, appeared at the unloading ramp. Each agent wore civilian clothes, with armour-plated vests. Agents Black, and White, the man and woman respectively, wore navy blue shirts and dark trousers tucked into black boots. Loken wore a black military pullover. He tapped the commbead in his ear and spoke to the marines with him in the loading bay.
“Lauras, comm check. You reading me?” he said, pointing to one of the heavily armed marines. “I'm assigning you men a callsign; Falcon. Alpha team is Falcon One, Bravo is Falcon Two. My team and I are callsign Raven. Once we're down there I'll be in frequent contact.” He checked his rifle, pistol, and those of his team, and gestured to one of the crewmen in the bay to drop the loading ramp.
A small crowd had gathered to watch the ship land in the port. Word would soon pass that the navy had brought relief as the seamen began unloading a few boxes of medical supplies and food, clothing and emergency equipment for the wounded. Loken gestured with a hand signal for the two marine teams to follow him. His agents flanked him as they made their way down the ramp onto the concrete ground of the port. The lowering of the ramp had kicked up a lot of dust that lingered in the air and obscured their sight until they had walked a few paces through it. Then, part of the colony was revealed. It wasn't a huge place, but it had substantial structures and communications equipment in sight.
The port tower was to their side, the operator either busy at work or half asleep again now that they had landed. Some of the colonists eyed Loken and the armed men and women with wariness, noting their armour, exoskeletons and rifles as they walked back on the way to the administration building past the port and into another district of the colony. Most of the colonists were scientists, clerks and pencil-pushers. Some of them had seen war, but almost none of them had fought in it. Loken ignored them and trudged by as they began swarming to the ship. One of the petty officers aboard the ship brought some lightly armed seamen and began organising the crowd into a queue, keeping an eye on them and making sure it didn't devolve into a food riot.
“Ok, marines,” began Loken, raising his voice over the din of the colony. Crowds of people rushed past them, chattering about the ship. They had made their way to the colonial governor's workplace, a sprawling building of multiple floors. “Take a break outside, one man posted on the front door, the rest of you hurry up and wait,” he said, ending his sentence with an adage the marines loved to use. “Shouldn't take long.”
He made his way into the building and immediately distraught. There were lines of wounded navy and marine personnel along the hall ways, and entire rooms were full of wounded, dying and deceased. A nurse scurried by and Loken grabbed her arm. She looked at his rifle warily.
“Nurse, what's your situation here? I'm with the navy.” She caught her breath from rushing around, and the suddenness of being pulled aside.
“We've got at least thirty wounded military personnel, some navy, some marines. Twice as many civilians, including children. We're running out of supplies, everything from food to gauze and thermal blankets. The wounded are starting to die.” Loken nodded to himself and tapped his commbead.
“Falcon, this is Raven One, send in your corpsman to the ground floor of the building. We have a lot of wounded marines in here need looking at, do what you can. Radio the ship, tell them to send a coxswain and medical supplies here on Raven's authority.” He thanked the nurse and went back to his duty, every moment was critical.
Ascending the wooden stairs to the director's office, a number of security personnel swiftly got out of the way of his team, having been informed that military personnel would be in the building. Loken caught the attention of the receptionist outside the office. “Director Ogilvie is expecting us.” The woman looked up at him and glanced at the team's rifles and swallowed.
“You're the commander of the navy vessel?” she asked.
“In a manner of speaking.” She buzzed the office behind her. “Sir, the navy officers are here to see you,” she said and nervously gestured towards the door. “Black, stay by the door. White, with me,” he said and stepped into the large office room, cluttered with papers and what looked like wine bottles on the windowsill in the corner. Director Ogilvie stood with alarm as he saw an armed man and woman step into his office, both of whom were taller than him, and loomed over his desk.
“Director James Ogilvie,” he began. "I'm Agent Loken, this is Agent White. Outside your office doors is Agent Black." Agent White moved to flank the door and leaned against the wall. Loken noticed a woman in the room and acknowledged her. “I understand you have uncovered something of potential interest to the United Worlds Government. I'm here to review and investigate your discovery.”
