Date: Monday 4 August 2041ce 1400z
Location: Outpost FG-9, California (-0800)
The morning alarm issued by his datapad was unnecessary; Captain Nielson had been staring at the inside of his eyelids, face buried into a balled-up pillow, for at least twenty minutes.
Though it did inform him that he had run out of time to fall back to sleep.
He sat up and reached for the datapad, turning off the alarm and going directly to the Outpost Schedule.
Don’t be obvious.
Nielson only rarely checked the schedule first thing in the morning; If there were no emergency messages displayed with the alarm, then there wasn’t anything important enough to not wait until a shower and coffee were both taken care of.
Today, however, was not a normal day.
For that he checked a few random items first: Today’s breakfast menu at the Officer’s Mess, warehouse status, reports from the Night Watch, and then, finally, patrol movements through the area.
Estimated Arrival: 2300z
Note: Authorized 7 Day Restbit
He browsed a few more schedules for a brief time, casually preparing his coffee while he logged minutes in various locations of the outpost’s network.
No one told him this sort of subterfuge was necessary, but there was so much secrecy regarding his assignment at FG-9 that he felt inclined to return to the various habits that he had honed as a child. That, however, struck him as strangely humorous, as the fears of Doctor Scott, General Hitchens, and many of the higher-ups at SciCorps, had little in common with his overly religious mother and his use of the newly born internet.
He set the datapad down and set his coffee to the side to cool.
‘A beginning is a very dangerous time…’
Nielson couldn’t remember the source of the quote; He vaguely remembered a woman speaking it, but no memory of when or where aside from the nebulous region of his childhood memories.
Something on tv?
That lack of clarity continued to bother him well into his morning shower.