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UPSHAW HAD BEEN LOUNGING in her office reading the latest reports from the front lines furnished her by the Commonwealth Armed Forces. She was to have a meeting with Prime Minister deFreitas and Admiral Mahoney later in the day to advise them on strategy and though she knew what she wanted, she had to ground her argument in facts. DeFreitas was on board with a lot of what Upshaw, and by extension ATC Castle, wanted to do in terms of revamping the Commonwealth Armed Forces. And no matter what face Mahoney might put forward initially, she knew that deep down he understood the necessity of giving ATC Castle more input and control over deployment. They were, after all, already in control of the majority of training and supplying the majority of equipment.
The deFreitas government had racked up quite a significant account with the private military contractor in the days since the ril-galas annexation of Earth and Upshaw intended to succeed where her predecessor had failed, in making ATC Castle not simply a capitalist force, but a political force.
Setting down her tablet, Upshaw rubbed at her eyes and stood, heading to the large window with her coffee. When she’d replaced Alvin Curran as Director of Operations, she’d also taken over his office on Thor’s Hammer. One of the larger offices on the station, it had an excellent view of three of the station’s docking arms. An ATC Castle battleship, the SS Freedom, was just returning from an uneventful patrol.
The more successful missions that her people could complete, the greater her leverage with the Commonwealth and the greater her influence with deFreitas in particular.
Her train of thought was suddenly derailed by an alert chime on her tablet. She swore under her breath: the icon was flashing orange.
Internal ATC Castle alerts were always colour-coded, both in the alert sent out to senior staff and in the alert lights that would be flashing – along with an audio announcement – on the facility or ship where the event was occurring. Blue was a medical emergency, red was a physical attack, green was a radiological alert. And orange meant a biological containment failure.
The doorway to her office burst open and Vossek entered, waving a tablet in his hand.
"Have you seen this?"
"The alert just came through," she said, picking up her own tablet and skimming the report. "God damn it."
Duster’s Range.
"Containment has failed on one of our biological projects on Duster’s Range," said Vossek.
"Yes, I can read," she said sharply.
"Jackson has already begun lockdown and evac procedures. He should have everyone out and to the safe zone within the next fifteen minutes," said Vossek. "The medical research labs have already been sealed off and the staff undergoing quarantine."
She nodded, staring angrily at her tablet. Duster’s Range was the jewel in the ATC Castle crown, a multi-pronged research and development facility responsible for well over half of the products currently marketed by the company. Their medical research wing was developing some promising work, including several biological weapons that, had Duster’s Range been within Commonwealth space, they would have been legally unable to develop. She hoped against hope that it turned out to be something relatively minor, because if one of those weapons broke containment, they could be looking at a serious loss of assets and the possibility of an entire research division being unusable for an extended period of decontamination.
As it stood, standard biological emergency response was quarantine of those potentially directly exposed and the complete evacuation of the facility for a minimum of four hours before sending in recovery specialists. They would be wearing containment suits and be equipped to properly assess the extent of the contamination.
"Keep your fingers crossed that this is something minor, Mister Vossek," she said, pacing behind her desk. "The last thing we need is a major loss of assets just as we’re trying to reinforce how much the Commonwealth needs us."
"Do you want me to head out there?" said Vossek.
"Not yet, but soon. Investigate from here first. You are not to set foot in that facility until the assessment team has done their job," she said. "I won’t risk any more assets."
Vossek nodded.
"Any word from the Vimy Ridge?" said Upshaw.
"No, but we weren’t expecting anything yet."
"I want updates on the Duster’s Range situation every thirty minutes. Go."
Nodding, his hand twitching slightly – he was used to saluting superiors from his time in the Commonwealth Army – Vossek exited the office to keep watch on the Duster’s Range situation.
Upshaw continued to pace behind her desk.