Into What Is Impossible (Hiatus, Re-write In-progress)

I went swimming three days ago- couldn't devote myself to writing a full-length chapter while my arm is screaming bloody murder for two days because of it.

Also, trying out something new here- I left this style in the draft of the first chapters as I felt it is too heavy and doesn't add anything substantial but here we go.

/-/-/-/

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4. Scientific or technologically-valuable material or objects, if possible, must be collected/retrieved for further research purposes.

3. If there are to be native societies or unique ecosystems on the new wold, interference is prohibited and should be avoided unless authorized by the OIC.

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Dust flies away from the below the Black Hawk as gusts of wind from the its rotors push down on the surface. The sky is already dark- although the western horizon still has a hue of the fading sunlight as the Black Hawk touched down on the landing zone; a hastily flattened dirt field, with temporary tents set up on one end for mechanics to store their things and occupy during duty.

I step out of the Helicopter along with Chappy. The helicopter rotors had just started to die down when a group of twelve personnel in full MOPP suit run to us and start to offload the wounded locals to stretchers.

One of them approaches me, the two bars on his collar denotes him having the same rank as I do.

"Captain Hoyer?" He asks. Voice muffled behind his mask.

I nod. "Yeah, that's me."

He looks at Chappy and another one of his guys who is talking to the pilots. Then back to me before speaking. "I'm Captain Wright, Chemical Corps. You, your teammate and the pilots has to come with us for sterilization and decontamination."

A CBRN unit? Well, it would seem they're up-sizing the operation by adding more specialized units. And the higher-ups, understandably, are not taking any chances.

"Chappy, we gotta move. CBRN wants us checked." I say to him.

He stops with helping to unload the wounded locals and comes to my side.

Captain Wright nods. "Follow me."

The second helicopter is landing, and another team of CBRN guys are moving to unload the wounded. Captain Wright turns around and walks towards the exit of the landing zone, me and Chappy following right behind him.

I observe the base as we are about to exit. It has grown considerably since my departure almost two days ago; the communications center is now a modular building and no longer a tent with a tall radio tower beside it; the kitchen now has proper facilities and supplies (although the mess hall is still a tent with tables and benches beneath it); and the command center is no longer a hole in the ground with a grumpy, uncaffeinated major in it.

Well, the major is probably still there- but caffeinated and in a better mood.

Captain Wright's subordinate- a lieutenant- walks past us with the pilots following him. Chappy looks at them, confused.

"Wait, why are the pilots here? Who's going to fly out the locals?" He asks.

"We'll fly them out once we confirm they're safe." Captain Wright replies, not bothering to look back.

"If they aren't?"

Captain Wright stops in-front of the entrance of a modular, and turns to reply. "Then we'll extract the rest of your team and handle the locals appropriately."