Things were awkward for Vuong. Working under his old acquaintance was bad enough, having her praise him directly was even worse. And it got even worse, Bravo-Two, the pilot of the team was barely out of the ramp, so she was able to hear that line. And being the radio operator of the team, she would be sticking with the commander (or in this case, the freaking female captain), and by extension, him. That meant that she was spending a lot of time watching him, just out of curiosity.
Her stare had been more than enough to burn a hole through his skull. Or two. Or three. Or four, if one could count the local sun as another staring factor here. The safety "snorkel mask" used as a precaution against any CBRN threat failed to diminish the intensity. Vuong was not particularly counting. He had to suppress the… annoyance (?) of being looked at. Being in the spotlight was not precisely what he enjoyed. During the first batch of the test, done right at the landing site, other members of the team were not helpful at all. The Thai medic just kept staring at him with disgust in her eyes, but her lips were constantly licking as if she was hungry and thirsty… Vuong did not really want to know what she was thinking. And the other men were just smirking at him. He had no time asking what they meant though.
Besides, he was busy running his own set of experiments. The first was measuring the gravity acceleration. To be fair, the probe had its initial gauge, landing on the planet here gave the feeling for personal connection. With no slouch in the movement, the g-value here would be somewhat similar to the value on earth, 9.81 meters per second squared. Still, it was only feeling and observation, a true test would be needed to validate the value. The solution for that was simple, using high school physics.
The period of a pendulum equalled two times of pi, times the square root of the length of the rope over then gravity acceleration. In a mathematical form, and for input into a computer, it went something like this: T=2*pi*sqrt(L/g). T could be found via experiment (or in this specific case, count a dozen period, then took the average), L was set up per the experiment, and pi was a constant. Re-arranging the formula, one could found the value of g with the help of a stopwatch and a calculator.
Basic math. More like basic secondary school math. How the Americans had trouble in understanding this was beyond his comprehension.
Anyhow, the value was calculated as 10.23 meter per second square, about 5% higher compared to Earth. It correlated to other information collected on the radius and mean density of Terra Nova. In other words, barring a few cosmetic and minor differentiations, some basic parameters of the planet were the same as Earth's.
Other "physical" information was also recorded and measured. For example ambient air temperature, humidity, wind speed, background radiation… Most of the values fell within the acceptable or standard parameters on Earth. Sure, the value for radiation was a tad higher, but it was not even as high as the top value of natural background radiation. Besides, even in such hotspots on Terra, there was no conclusive linkage to such high values to any diseases and problems. So far, so good.
The Recon Team quickly headed "forward", walking with the edge of the jungle on their immediate left. Behind them, after a somewhat small strip of forest coverage, was a river. On the right were an open plain field of grass and other low-rise vegetation, with some mountains being visible at the horizon. At a glance, the whole scenery would not be too out of place on earth.
The formation was detailed by Captain earlier. The Indonesian machine gunner (Bravo Three) and the Thai medic (Bravo Five) would lead the way, acting as the spearhead. Meanwhile, the anchor would be formed by the Malaysian marksman (Bravo Four) and the chirpy bio-chem Singaporean pioneer. Staying in the heart of the formation would be the commander-slash-old-acquaintance (Bravo Actual), the Filipino pilot/radio operator (Bravo Two) and then, himself (Bravo Seven).
Having the top two commanders in the same area would be a bad idea, if something happened, the whole command structure would be decapitated. For military, it meant "big trouble". But then, unlike anything could catch the team totally off guard, enough to kill both officers in a blink of an eye. Besides, only an officer was sufficiently trained and ranked to land a shuttle from orbit. That might change soon, but for now, that was how things would go.
And in case things went tit-shape for everyone with Actual and Two KIA (killed in action), then Bravo Three would take command. Unlike the pilot who was more technically inclined, Three was actually specialized in combat and small-unit command, perfect fit for a replacement… Still, his skills were somewhat behind Actual (probably), considering the Captain was still a Recon specialist.
Vuong mused on the squad composition while glancing from sides to sides. All members of the Recon Team were equipped with a camera, just for image recording and future reference. And to sell for some major bucks. Everyone knew the last part, but no one spoke about it out loud. The super-rich back on Earth was very interested in securing "raw footage" of the Recon teams. And the Coalition always needed more money for investment.
So a mutually beneficial pact was made. The Recon Teams would record what they see, and the rich would pay for that. Of course, the teams had no need to tell the money bags that they would be sending literally raw footages over. Hundreds of hours of boring "raw footage" per soldier with no edit at all. The Coalition would always keep their words – even if it would be in the most inconvenient way possible.
Again, Vuong was just musing on things to pass the time. Things were… boring. Well, boring would be good in this case, which meant "nothing strange" and "nothing dangerous" were happening. And then, technically speaking, "boring"
With the help of the aerial drone and of the compass, it was a piece of cake to keep them on track. The funny thing about the magnetic poles of the planet, they were reversed compared to Earth. The Terran North pole would be "on top", but the pole of Terra Nova was "at the bottom". They were flipped over the galactic plane, so to speak. But Vuong paid little attention to "why", and to answer that question was not among his to-do list. As long as he could work his way around it, things were fine for him.
The team stopped a few more times to run a few more tests on their way to the river. This was more of a precaution than anything else. The two pioneers, both graduated with a degree of engineering, knew that the more data they had, the better the final picture would be. That was why they constantly collected the background data. The more they looked, though, the more this was a nice planet. Still, with the threat of unknown microorganism, they were wearing the masks. No reason to risk it now. The Pacific Asia Coalition might be insane and quirky, but they were not stupid.
The samples of air, water, ground and plants would be deep analyzed later. They might turn out as "safe for human", but they also might not. The series of pandemics in the early 21st century had taught humanity to be wary and careful. Better to be safe than be sorry.
That was why Vuong had sent his aerial drone up in the air. To expand the view range, to be alert for any potential threat and/or point of interest. So far, nothing of note was found… yet. Speaking of the drone, it was a hexacopter – a drone with six motors for control. Stronger lifting power compared to the civilian's quadcopters, allowing more modules to be mounted on it. It was a tad more expensive than the four-motor model, but it was still within the budget for a project at the university. Not to mention that it had helped him to graduate in the first place.
The feed would be transmitted directly to his datapad (on the wrist) and to his goggles (combined with lenses of short-sighted people and a HUD). Real-time transmission, using the 8G hotspot from the radio operator. For backup, the drone was equipped with a 7G module, low-powered and much weaker than the specialized equipment, but it did its job nevertheless.
Ahead of him, the jungle-covered roughly half of the screen, the left side. On the right side, there was just plain green grass. Tropical type of weed… well, weed as in "unwanted plants", not the marijuana type to smoke and get high. Far away, about 4 or 5 kilometres away to a few short and stubby hills, just a few dozen meters from its foot to its top at most.
And then, shit happened. He saw something on the screen, something that should not be existing. He just blinked a few times… his brisk walking pace was not purely reactions, on auto-drive. His brain was now fully focused on unravelled this… utterly bull crap. The drone was raised up in the air, taking advantage of the height to take the surrounding sight into its eyes.
Rotating the drone around, he quickly realized he had done something wrong. He had let the drone fly straight forward from the landing site of the shuttle, relying on the jungle to protect his back. Both of that were big no-nos, as it turned out. He should have let the drone fly in a circle so that he could have a better view of the big picture. And he should not rely on the jungle as a good solid defensive barrier, heaven forbid, his country's history had proven otherwise.
He manoeuvred the drone closer for better observation. However, other than confirming what he saw was not an illusion, there was nothing else.
Still, this shit was way above Vuong's paygrade though. However, because of that, he really did not want to spook anyone. His pace was still maintained, and his voice was still calm when he was speaking to his commander. For further precautions, he chose to speak face-to-face with her, and in their own mother tongue of Vietnamese.
"Cap… would you mind checking the feed from the drone?"
"Ain't that your job, Seven?"
"It is, but I need a second look."
"Why?"
"We have some serious shit. And I really want you to take a look at it."
Unlike civilian pioneer, Captain Tam had more problems in controlling her calmness though. She stood still the moment she took a look at her datapad, her mouth was clearly seen agape through the snorkel mask. It only took a few seconds for the radio operator to notice that, and she was looking at him with the eyebrow raised. Vuong just pressed his lips together, keeping his silence though.
"You are the first to notice that, your job to inform everyone."
In other words, the Captain was denying her responsibility. Still, she was just a (cute and smol) girl, and she was in shock. Not many people were as insane as the engineering specialist… Though, speaking of that, surely a captain of the recon should have a higher level of mental strength. Well, there was always an After-Action Report, Vuong could certainly write his comments about the lack of control on Actual's part. Assuming he could get back from this alive, of course.
"Attention all Bravo call-signs. This is Bravo Seven. My drone has spotted a T-junction and a bridge. I repeat, a T-junction and a bridge are found. Prepare for First Contact situation."
The whole radio net was silenced before it was bombarded with curses and yells. Yeah, no surprise. No one was expecting a First Contact situation. A dozen probes were sent from Earth to Terra Nova, yet not a single one reported on any sign of intelligent life or civilization. Nothing was found, just pure wilderness. So, a sudden discovery like this… Yeah, life sucked. Raising his voice on the radio net to over-power every other member, Vuong pressed on:
"This is the current picture. The jungle on our left is thick, covering at least 10 kilometres on average. The chunk on our back is much thinner, at just 1 or 2, reaching to the bank of a river. In front of us, about 10 to 15 clicks, is a set of low rise hills, and on the other side of the hill is a road running at its feet. Another road, at about 60 degrees, away from us, is seen. The final road after the junction is heading toward our general direction, but not cutting through the forest, but rather, it reaches the river with a wooden bridge, about 20m in length. Further… Shit."
Now, Vuong started to feel uneasy. Considering the insanity of an average Vietnamese, or the part that he was a graduated engineer, or he was serving under his old acquaintance, this was something to speak off.
"Contact. Moving on the road at the feet of the hill toward our general direction. They are at the edge of the horizon. Look like a convoy of a sort. Estimate range: 25 clicks. Destination: Unknown. Visual not clear."
Vuong had no idea how he was still able to keep his wits and calms though. From the inside, he was being torn up. A mixture of fear, anxiety, and dread was churning in his gut. The chance for him to return in one piece is getting lower by the second. Having sight and proof about the potential existence of an alien civilization was terrible enough, actually meeting them soon after that was even a worse idea.
On the very first fucking extra-solar colony, they had contact with some aliens? Things were not looking well for them.
The Pacific Asia Coalition would have little chance to actually fight back if the First Contact went warry. The United States of North America had access to Rod of God, the Confederate of Russia could actually deploy men straight from orbit. Hell, their giant neighbour, the Oriental Hegemony could deploy a full platoon for a recon mission. Those giants had the best chance to overcome such troubles like this. Meanwhile, PAC was severely limited in terms of their military power. The best option now would be to hide and/or evac. But to bug out, they would need permission from the High Command, which meant the Captain had to send the words. Luckily, Tam might be shocked because of this development, but she was able to recover in time.
"This is Bravo Actual to Crow Nest. Do you copy? Over."
She had immediately contacted the command (who was still on the orbiting spaceship), using the radio set carry by Two as a signal booster. Meanwhile, the whole team had been ordered to crouch down, half-hidden in the grass. Better to be careful and reduce their silhouette and what-not.
"This is Crow Nest. Go ahead Bravo Actual."
"Recon Team Bravo has spotted signs of civilization, and a potential First Contact scenario. Patching the live feed from the drone, operating by Bravo Seven at the moment. Over."
For the next dozens of seconds, the only sound Vuong heard was his own breathing. Everything was silenced, no further report from Recon Team Bravo, and no order from high command neither. Everyone was just stunned completely by this new revelation. After all, what was the chance for such a situation to take place at the first proper colony of the Coalition, and by extension, the Earth? Still, kudo to Crow Nest, they recovered quickly. A new voice appeared on the radio net, much more masculine, deeper, signifying that someone of the proper brass was on the horn. To be fair, in a delicate situation like this, someone on the flag rank was needed.
"Attention Recon Team Bravo, this is Chaos speaking. Move the drone in, as much as you can, I want better visual. Over."
Well, ain't that the Colonel, commanding officer of all armed forces of the Coalition armed forces. To say he had the final word in the early exploration program on Terra Nova was not a stretch at all. Thus, Vuong just simply accept his command without speaking a single word. Besides, the pioneer was curious too, having no idea what was in the dust storm precisely.
The drone was manoeuvred to close in, well, and it was raised to a new height. Instead of just 75m, it was now 450m in the air. The higher it was, the less chance for the convoy to actually spot it, either visually or acoustically. Still, if the convoy had access to radar and/or similar equipment, such works would make little difference. The situation demanded them to risk it… At least the gyroscope allowed for a smooth and stable record of the image, and in combination with the high magnification power, they could safely record the data from afar. Hopefully.
Damn shame that they only had two cameras installed on the drone, one facing forward, and once installed on the gyro for downward photo captured. Not enough for a full recon model, but then, this was a personal item and not a sanctioned official tool of the military. It was decent for the task, not as good as a specialized model, but decent enough.
Slowly but surely, the feed on the convoy was captured and transmitted back, and the shock just kept going on.
"Are those… humans?"
The Filipino pilot/radio muttered next to Vuong, and to be honest, he was thinking the same thing. Those were humans. Look East or Southeast Asian to him. A head with four limbs, two arms, two legs, with hair on top of their head. Their skin tones were light, well, light compared to black people… they were varying between a light honey-like colour and lightly tanned. Everything just looked… "human", right down to the proportion between different body parts. At a glance, no one would think of them as "non-human", or rather, "non-Earthling" in this case.
On the bright side, there was no side showing that they were using equivalent technology, all they had were medieval/renaissance era weaponry. Blades, swords, spears and bows mostly. Most of the convoy was made up of footmen wearing cloth/leather armours while wielding spears. The centre of the convoy, however, was made up of three horse-drawn carriages. The eastern style type, where the carriages were made out of wood. All windows were just wooden frames, decorated with wooden pattern-like bars and covered from the inside by a layer of cloth. Each carriage was drawn by a pair of horses, all were wearing some kind of cloths for decoration. Surrounding those carriages also were bodyguard-like soldiers, who were wearing a layer of metal armour over their cloth, and were being armed with some curve swords with large blades. Leading the whole convoy and blocking its tail were two separate groups of cavalry, numbered at about a dozen in total. A score more of lighter horsemen were scattered on both sides of the column, presumable as some kind of… Sargent? The more interesting part was that a lead horseman was holding a banner, it was a blue one, with the edges being decorated in "curvy, wavy yellow" cloth. There was also a giant calligraphy of logogram… Basically, a single word would represent an idea graphically and visually. Kind of like the Chinese, Korean, Japanese and ancient Vietnamese writing systems.
Basically, an eastern fantasy setting. It could be either really good or extremely terrible. On the one hand, it looked like there was no modern tech. On the other hand, Clarke's third rule existed for a reason: any sufficiently advanced technology was indistinguishable from magic. The local people might have an extremely advance science, which allowed them to use ancient-looking weaponry yet still very much potent and deadly. Oh, and this was before one considered about what "type" of eastern setting, either wuxia (basically, the practice of martial art), or worse, the sub-genre called xianxia where the end-game was to become a freaking God, with a capital G, via cultivation and shit.
Being a man of science, Vuong rarely read those stories. His preference was strictly within the realm of engineering and science. Still, he would not turn down a story where the protagonist fields technology against those cultivators.
At the moment, everything he just knew that the local would not be too out of place compared to an eastern fantasy, or a historical reconstruction for somewhere in Oriental Hegemony or Pacific Asia Coalition. More intelligence was needed to make any conclusion…
And he had a terrible feeling about that.
"Bravo Team, Chaos here. You have a new objective, which was to gather as much intelligence as possible. Passive observation, rules of engagement applied, tried to limit contact, as much as possible. Note, your original objective still stands."
In other words, apart from gathering data to judge the habitability of the new world and potential colonial site, they must also study and observe the local. Tall order… Still, it was an order. Like it or not, High Command had issued an order, and Recon Team Bravo would carry it out.
Vuong grimaced, really hoping that he could apply for more hazard pay from the Coalition, failing that, he wanted an officer commission. It would earn him some good pension after everything blew over… or give his family some extra if the worst happened to him.
And thus, a game of shadow began. The whole team was pivoted back, now moving toward the river, not the hills. Meanwhile, Vuong was still keeping up with his surveillance with his drone. New findings were logged down and recorded. There were over 500 soldiers, and about 50 other accessory or support personnel, in the whole convoy. It seemed that this was an escort group for some VIP, either a feudal lord or some very filthy rich merchant, or for their wife/concubine/mistress. Not for the King or Emperor, because there was not enough extravagance there.
There were also reports on scouts. Light horsemen, 12 in total, scattered in all directions and deployed in pairs. Though it were more like 12 scouts being active at all time. After an old pair of scouts had returned, a new pair was instantly deployed. There were no one other than the light horsemen lining up the flank of the column.
Some of those scouts actually went through the jungle, stepping on a trail hidden under the trees. Luckily, the vegetation was not too thick, so the thermal sight mounted on the drone was able to spot them… Sure, the pair came dangerously close to the middle section of Recon Team Bravo. All three call-signs had to remove their backpacks while lying face down on the ground, minimize their silhouette.
It got harrowing a bit, realizing that a pair of scouts were about to materialize from the jungle, Recon Team Bravo stopped in their track and laid down on the ground, blending in with the high grass and bushes scattered around the landscape. They even removed their backpack, just to make their silhouettes smaller, less likely to be detected. The most problematic part was that they were damned close to the middle section of the team, where Vuong was a part of.
The gunsight was trained on the lead horseman, who was still riding peacefully less than 200m away. Vuong silently licked his lips in anxiety. Despite being armed, he had never fired a single shot apart from training. Still, speaking about that, it could be said for the whole team. Even everyone had some kind of military training, they had never actually been a fight. To say everyone was tensed was an understatement.
The pair of scouts were passing by, completely unknown that they were being sighted and aimed upon by other worlders. They had no idea that a single wrong glance would reveal at least three figures laying on the ground, opening up a new conflict.
Luckily, the pair completely showed no sign that they had spotted anything wrong. They quickly turned toward the river and briskly pushed their horse there. Just in time too, because the oxygen of the CBRN outfit was getting low. Stuck between the horsemen still loitering nearby and the risk of being infected by a yet-unconfirmed and unfound disease, Vuong decided to risk his health. Worst case scenario, he would die. Something he had already accepted years ago…
"Seven, Actual here. What the fuck are you doing?"
"Actual, I'm taking off my mask. My oxygen supply is running low. Over."
The two old "friends" hissed over the radio contact. Even if they were in the same section, they were actually nearly ten meters away from each other. Speaking clearly might attract the attention of the scouts, who were still "within earshot". Well, if their voices could carry 200m over. Better safe than sorry though.
"What if you are sick? You are a grown-up, Seven."
"No signs of any virus or bacteria so far. The harmful ones at least. Besides, if I die, I die, I have already made peace with myself. Have you?"
Instead of answering him the Captain just gave him a dirty eye. But in the end, she would also take her snorkel mask off and put it to the side. Of course, being the commanding officer of the team, she must show some kind of prowess:
"If I die from this, I will kill you, Seven."
Heh, women. One could not live with them, but one could not live without them too.
Slowly but surely, other team members removed their snorkel mask, and they all reported that via e-goggles. All was done within relative silence so that the horsemen would not be alerted.
The scent of fresh grass then assaulted into Vuong's nose. It was… strange. But in a good way, like an exhilarating feeling. Being a city dweller, he had never actually felt such a connection to nature. Even his training was conducted near an urban facility, so he had little to no connection to the proper nature at all. Not to mention that the wildlife on Earth had been pretty much damaged due to the constant exploitation of mankind. Last but not least, he was an engineering specialist, he worked more with machinery and numbers than the actual environment.
He glanced to the side, his old acquaintance was still breathing normally, as if this was just a mundane job for her. Well, she was a recon, so being in nature was practically her bread and butter… Sure, this was not Earth, but with just a glance and with no pre-existing information, no one would say that they were on another planet.
She was half-hidden thanks to the use of camouflage battle dress. Unconsciously, Vuong gazed on her face and almost felt serene. She was focused on her gun sight, watching the horsemen galloping around. Her lips were pressed tight, her gaze was hard as steel, and her body was completely firm. Stubbornness… same shit that drove him toward her years ago. Damn shame how it ended…
However, based on their current trajectory, the Terran might have more pressing problems. He whispered in the microphone.
"Actual, Seven here."
"Go ahead."
"What should we do if they find our shuttle? Silence them? Or just ignore them?"
"Haven't thought about that yet. Two, sitrep?"
"Two here, the shuttle has been covered with some camouflage nest. It might still be spotted though. Nothing is foolproof."
"Six here. So… a distraction might work? Something to keep them occupied? Over."
"Actual speaking. Correct. What are you proposing?"
"… Check the drone feed. Thermal sight. 5x zoom, 7 o'clock direction on the scr…"
The Singaporean bio-chem did not have a chance to finish what he said though. A small, but audible, pop had been sounded.
And on the bright blue sky, there was a dying red flare, smokes trailed behind the bright shiny orb. On the drone's feed, black figures were assaulting the convoy, when they were travelling alongside the jungle.
It seemed that the Terran had just scored two consecutive First Contact within a day, and they could keep preserving their secret shuttle. Even if the conditions were far from optimal.