Unearned Luck

Things have only just calmed down, and I'm still fuming mad. I impressed as clearly as possible to my crew the need for subtlety in this operation. We'd planned out every movement out in exacting detail. Our forces would be divided into a distraction, a strike squad, and with myself as mobile support. My overlapping systems allow me to be all be invisible beyond 20 meters. My ability to monitor cameras in the camp and wander undetected allow my to scout a safe path between patrols and sensors to inject the strike squad into position. They would have either hacked into the door of Ms. Kawavi's hab, or if need be either myself or the strike squad could cut trough with engineering acetylene torches.
 
I was denied this. Immediately following the briefing, Ronin Outinhiener, snatched up an advanced combat rifle from the ship's locker and marched out of the airlock directly into the guard stationed right outside the door. I felt as though I were underwater, watching everything in slow motion. It felt like an out of body experience, like it was happening to someone else.
 
As luck would have it, the OCP guard (Victoria) wasn't part of the captain's conspiracy. The bloody fool nearly gunned down the poor woman, even as she pleaded to assist us. In one fell swoop, the entire operation collapsed. The irony is not lost on me that the ball of ice and rock is named Blue. The entire affair resolved an almost perfunctory administrative fashion. I needed to dispense with our cover, explain our mission, and let the chips land where they fell. We were paraded with an ever expanding entourage of OCP guards through checkpoint after checkpoint directly to Ms. Kawavi's hab. The only stimulation to be found was when the insurrectionists attempted an assault on the hab, but they were quickly dispatched and arrested by the Umbrella Corp site executive Clorox.
 
I have never felt so limp.