[Well... I managed to churn this out as my first seg,  so now I 
 guess I'm in for the duration.. Enjoy and comment, flames to be 
 directed to the bit bucket.]

-- cut here --
		Op: The Marraketh Connection
			Tocsic[1] Shock

OPENING SHOT 
INT Epsilon-One Weapons Testing Building: Essentially a long 
firing range with an assortment of test targets such as humanoids,
vehicles, and accuracy bullseyes built up against a large wall of 
shock-absorbent polymers at one end.
    An orange-suited tech standing at the opposite end of the 
range from the targets places the stock of a strange-looking 
double-barreled gun against her shoulder and kneels to braces 
herself, training the laser sight on a model of a kneeling 
humanoid in a two-handed shooting stance. She squeezes the 
trigger and a hail of shots erupts from both barrels as the stock 
compresses to absorb the recoil. The target explodes into 
fragments of fiberglass. The tech feels the side of one of the 
clips, and retrains on a standing target. The head of the 
humanoid explodes. The tech removes both clips and sets them down 
on the ground next to her. She lays the weapon down next to the 
depleted clips and picks up a datapad as Hanlon walks into the 
room.
			HANLON
	How's the testing on that new puppy coming? 
	It's got a kick to it, doesn't it...
			MAITLAND
	Yep... for the amount of vibration we're 
	getting, though, the accuracy's well within 
	tolerances. Here, take a look.
  Maitland hands the pad to Hanlon, and the camera cuts 
to over Hanlon's shoulder as he looks over charts and 
graphs on the screen. Hanlon runs his finger down the 
screen and taps one of the numbers.
			HANLON
	Here we are... yeah, that vibration's still
	high. Maybe a little too high. Why don't 
	you get your team to see if you can work 
	some more damping into the stock?
			MAITLAND
	We'll try that. I'm really impressed with
	the damage this thing can put out, though.
	For a slugchucker, it's got some serious
	power. Who would've though of a double-
	barrelled automatic?
  Hanlon opens his mouth, but as he starts to reply, the door 
behind him bursts open and an office tech rushes in.
			TELSON
	Volta! Got a critical for you here from
	Vee-Arr central. Triage computer flagged
	it code twenty-two. It came in under a
	minute ago.
  He thrusts a printout on a clipboard at Hanlon. Hanlon takes it 
and the camera cuts to over Hanlon's shoulder. Hanlon runs his 
finger down the page as he reads.

[TWENTY-TWO PINNACLE]
			HANLON
			Shit.
[FROM: VR High Command
 TO: All Personnel
 SUBJ: Immediate recall

 All personnel report immediately to Blanca Mountain headquarters 
for further orders and dispatch regarding emergency response to 
abduction of High Councillor Katze Brenner.]
			HANLON
	Katze... Katze... Ka-HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
  Hanlon turns a bright shade of white. Both techs turn and stare 
at him.
			HANLON
	Sorry about that... shit. I need to get 
	out of here really fucking fast.
  He wrenches open the door and runs down the breezeway towards 
the admin building.

INT Epsilon-One Admin Building Lobby: Sparsely decorated with 
fractal prints, the lobby connects the outside world to the three
elevators servicing the fifteen upper levels and the eight sub-
basements of the admin tower. A reception desk sits to one side 
of the room. Hanlon bursts into the lobby and skids to a stop in 
front of the reception desk. The desk tech looks up.
			SANDFORD
		Need help with something?
			HANLON
	What's the next scheduled flight out of here? 
	I need something real quick, eastbound?
  Sandford's hands fly over the desk console keyboard.
			SANDFORD
	We've got a transport leaving for Toronto in 
	ten minutes. It's a shipment of... little stuff. 
	Here we are... Datapads, ESSes, VESUR-4s-
  Hanlon breaks in.
			HANLON
	Good enough. Guess what? It's not going to 
	Toronto, at least not directly. Can you redirect 
	it to Blanca Mountain, Colorado from here?
  Sandford frowns and raises an eyebrow, then nods.
			SANDFORD
			Guess so...
  He begins typing again.
			SANDFORD
		Mind if I ask why though?
			HANLON
	I just got a priority call from Vee-Arr Central 
	and I need to get out there damn fast. No time 
	to prep my own flight if I can help it.
  Sandford glances up from the keyboard.
			SANDFORD
	There you go. Booked, tagged, filed. The flight 
	crew won't be happy, but...
			HANLON
	I'm allowed to exercise admin privilege every 
	once in a while. They can deal.
  Sandford shrugs.
			SANDFORD
	Runway 1, be there in five to board.
  Hanlon turns toward the elevators and tosses a wave toward 
Sandford.
			HANLON
		Thanks for your help.

EXT Epsilon-One, Runway One: One end of the runway is carved into 
the rock face and ends in a sheer wall. There is a large open 
hole in an adjoining taxiway.
    A jet transport painted in Epsilon markings rises up through 
the aircraft lifter and, as the surface of the lifter becomes 
flush with the pavement, advances onto the runway and rolls 
backward to the far end. As the engines spin up, Hanlon jogs 
across the tarmac towards the transport carrying a sports bag 
over his shoulder. The main hatch opens and a ladder extends 
itself from below the open door. Hanlon tosses the bag up through 
the door and climbs up the ladder. The hatch closes behind him. 
The transport's engines scream up to full power and the camera 
pans to follow it as it climbs sharply off the end of the runway.

TBC.

Footnotage: 
[1] From the Old French "tocsin", meaning "A signal, esp. an
    alarm-signal, sounded by ringing a bell or bells."

-- cut here --