Quoted By:
The cockpit shudders as the flatbed the <span class="mu-i">Magellan</span> rests on starts to life. Even through the armor plating, you can hear the whine and strain of the machine, and the overhead alarms that signal for everyone to clear the way as your PUEXO is transported out onto the aft deck. No sooner do you come to an abrupt stop, deckhands move to secure lines, harnesses, and feeds.
“Razor, this is Gripper, I’ve got control,” the launch officer radios into your headset. Out of the viewport’s peripheral, you can see the figure of a man in black overalls, waving from his position near the aft knuckleboom crane. “Standby for liftoff.”
Your world lurches, and the <span class="mu-i">Magellan</span> rattles in its hardness as its lifted off the deck, and into the air. Deckhands move with practiced efficiency, hauling lines and securing cables to stabilize the maneuver. If they aren’t careful, or if the sea is any choppier, then the PUEXO becomes a twenty-four-ton wrecking ball.
But the weather conditions are good, and the deckhands are well-trained. You’re brought over the water without any incident.
“PUEXO-1102-Calypso,” Gripper calls, “Clear bottoms. Nav-con is green, interval check. Thrust positive and steady.”
Frogmen and supervising boats clear out of the way as mech and man are lowered into the ocean waters. You run through the pre-drop checklist, thumbing switches and squinting at panels as sensors feed information into your console. And through no less than four external cameras, you can see divers unfastening the guiding cables and stabilization lines. They work fast – within a minute, the only thing that keeps the <span class="mu-i">Magellan</span> from dropping are lift bags and the crane harness itself.
“Final check,” you radio, reading off the computer display, “Vision One. 18% O2. CO2 is 0.3%. Scrubber fan is running. Compass is working, depth gauge is working. All systems nominal. Waiting for the green light.”
The launch officer answers, “Copy that Razor. Launch Officer to CIC, permission to launch?”
It comes quickly. Elishani’s voice comes over the comm: “Permission granted.”
“Confirmed. Razor, whenever you’re ready, we’ll initiate and launch.”
You close your eyes, and take a deep breath, as much as the helmet will allow you…
…
<span class="mu-i">“He’s responding well to the treatment.”</span>
… …
<span class="mu-i">“Please, let us help you…it’s least we could do…”</span>
… … …
<span class="mu-i">“Damn you, Sinleq Unami…why did you have to do it?!”</span>
Your eyes snap open. “Launch! Release, release, release!”
<span class="mu-s">CLUNK.</span>
You feel it more than hear it, the sound of restraining bolts and steel cable whipping out of their sockets and holdings. There’s a brief moment of weightlessness as the <span class="mu-i">Magellan</span> is free of its harness…
(cont.)
