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Protocol 9

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Protocol 9

2015 2 0

Protocol 9 - First appeared in Issue 1: Volume 1
Oct – 2017
ISBN: 978-0-9951566-8-5


Captain Jason Trati yawned. He’d already given his portion of the report when his team had arrived back at Farlen Station, but he was stuck, listening, until the end of the meeting. Bureaucratic nonsense… How the hell does this pass as an after-mission briefing. I wonder if they get paid extra if the meeting goes into overtime? Jason fought not to doze off as the comptroller droned on.

The intercom crackled to life, jolting everyone in the room. “Team Seven – Report to the hangar.”

“Sorry, that’s me.” Jason stood and saluted the superior officers. “Sirs.” His smile disappeared as he snaked his way to the aisle. We’ve only been back forty-eight hours; we’ve barely cleared the med-bay. Why are they sending us back in? His commander, Colonel Kael Sunde met him at the door and patted him on the back sympathetically.

“Such a face, if only you could see it.” “Do you have any idea what this is about?”

“Nope, but I’m going to go find out. Start the prep, and I’ll try to get us a reprieve. I’ll contact you in about an hour, regardless.”

“Good luck.” Jason made his way to the bay his squad called home.

The mid-sized transport they used sat in acid-scarred glory near the outer doors. The team affectionately referred to her as ‘The Beast’, and she looked it. It was an older model air transport, blocky, ugly, but rugged and it had kept them alive for close to fifty missions in the Seep.

Built to last. He smiled at it like an old friend and then noticed that Hallie June, their team Mech, was crawling out from under the ship. “Did you catch the call out, Hallie?”

“What? Crap, I had plans. Well, it’s probably a good thing I figured out what was ‘rattle and hum’ during final approach.” She indicated a bin filled with scrap metal. “Those units are done; the corrosion has eaten through the filters, the rings, and the gaskets. I can’t fix them. I have no idea why no one spotted this during the last inspection. What the hell are they paid for?”

“I often wonder that, myself.” Jason patted the ship affectionately. “How long will it take you to install if I get you the parts?”

“An hour tops. The rest of The Beast is okay, but we’re pushing it. We can’t do another turn-around without completely servicing her; I’m talking full patch, diagnostics, screen replacement, and paint job. The shield coating is down to seventy percent... oh, and I’ll have to replace all of the Embri thrusters on the port side within the next month.” Hallie smiled, revealing an array of crooked teeth. “I hear that KMR and D’s prize prodigy had something to do with the new design, so I want the upgrade this time. No more of this second-rate crap; not if you want us to keep flying.”

“You actually trust the designs of a fifteen-year-old?” “Yep,” Hallie said as she searched for her cigarettes.

“Fill out the requisition order, and I’ll file them for you.”

“All of the enviro-suits are shot.” The voice belonged to their Chief Med-Tech, Alfred Doncaster.

“I’ll draw new ones from stores,” Jason grunted as he added them to the provision list.

“Go military grade; the weather report says we’re due for ground mist and possible showers.”

“Yay.” Hallie cheered with mock enthusiasm. “The drip torch looks fine, but add some extra E-size gaskets, just in case. Also, we’re running low on ammo for the big gun.”

“Expect the worst, prepare for the worst,” Jason added her requests to the list. “Any word on the shipment from Riva?”

Hallie snorted back her laughter in a distinctly unladylike fashion. “It’s over three months late; I think it’s cute you still think it’s coming.”

“The official word is the M’Kang got it in transit,” Alfred commented as he scanned the medication barcodes. “It would be best if we find another Cluster to supply us; Riva’s issues are only going to get worse.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Do you have anything to add to that rather cryptic statement, Doc?”

Alfred didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Sorry, Captain. Rank has its privileges and its constraints. Take it as an informed suggestion.”

“You Korlo and your precious ‘Rank’,” Hallie muttered under her breath. “Maybe we should cut a deal with the M’Kang?”

“I’ll pass both your suggestions along.” Jason looked over the rappel cords and frowned. Half of the lines showed evidence of bend fatigue. We’re an accident waiting to happen.

Every unit was suffering the same thing though, there wasn’t enough of everything to go around, including people. Morale had been steadily deteriorating since the Council had reassigned fifty percent of the Farlen’s personnel and supplies to Horal Station in the Southern Seep.

Part of some new offensive against Clan Evora, no doubt. Jason frowned. Damn the Council; we’re search and rescue, not assassins. We’re supposed to be here assisting Burn Crews and research teams in the Seep, not gathering samples or killing—

“Captain?” Alfred cleared his throat to get Jason’s attention. “We need to restock the med-bay as well.”

“Send me the list, Doc, I’m going to go and have a chat with the depot sergeant about bits for The Beast, first. Colonel Sunde should be here in about forty-five.” Jason stuffed his digipad in his pocket and left the hangar.

*

Colonel Sunde checked the time. Twenty minutes. The old bastard’s keeping me waiting on purpose. He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, then stood. “Any idea of how much longer the General’s going to take, Cali?”

“No, sir.” The secretary didn’t look up.

Kael yawned and walked over to the windows. It wasn’t light yet, but you didn’t have to see the Seep to know it was there; its presence permeated the entire station.

The Northern wall in the reception room was taken up with a massive map. It showed the foothills in Korlune, through the mountains, and across the enormous drainage that flowed from the Eastern shore of Lake Evora to the Hotari Sea.

The Seep in glorious, yet fraudulent detail. Kael wandered over to admire it yet again. It’s doubled in size since this was completed. His gaze drifted to the corner where the team credits and date were listed. The crews must have been prisoners.. only Korlo commanders. He crouched and leaned in closer to read the date. Hard to believe they did this two hundred years ago. He shuddered involuntarily. They had no digi-link technology, no air transports, and no reliable communication, topside. He stood up and pictured the bulky enviro-suits they would have used. We’re soft by comparison.

Kael knew the Seep for what it was; he’d walked in the verdant expanse of deadly vegetation, corrosive mists, and ever-changing sand bogs. He leaned in closer to pick out some of the red lines that denoted paths over stone. I wonder how many of those are still there? He ran his finger up to the area they’d just returned from. No sign of the researchers. There had been no signs of life inside the deserted station; none of the common insects, no birds, just a thick layer of reddish moss growing out over the black sludge of the bog.

His digipad beeped. Kael answered it, opened the attached file, and skimmed the health reports of his team. He stopped when he got to Hallie’s results. Damn it; Arcosium. Kael signed off that he’d seen the report and tucked the device away. I’ll assign her to hangar duty after this run. I wonder who’s next?

“General Galen will see you now, sir.” Cali interrupted his train of thought. “Please go in.” She indicated the door.

The General looked up from his paperwork; the dark shadows under his eyes intensified his stare. “Sunde? Why aren’t you getting your team ready?”

“Sir, I respectfully request that you reassign this mission to another team. Hallie is sick. Vallen and Laros are both on leave, Sean is down with caustic burns, and—

“Would if I could, but I can’t. This could be another Protocol Nine mission, Kael, and your team is the only crew I have left that can handle it.”

“Could be?”

“That will be your call on arrival.”

Kael’s headache began to build. “Which camp and how long since there’s been no contact?”

“Vorta Botanical. I’ll send you all the particulars once you’re airborne.”

“Sir.” Kael saluted and made his way to the common area, scanning for likely bodies to flesh out his team. He was not disappointed, he spotted two excellent choices playing Nova with one of the new recruits.

“Oh shit,” Corporal Tris Barris groaned when she saw the colonel. “I had plans tonight.”

Private Scott Roush sunk down in his chair, trying to avoid Kael’s gaze.

“Does this mean the game’s over?” Private Mike Sekkaro asked.

“Not until the pot’s off the table.” Scott peered over his cards. “I’ve got two solar.”

Mike frowned for a moment, studying his cards with a confused expression. “What does it mean when you have a stellium?” His innocent expression gave way to a grin.

Scott snorted and pushed the collection of winnings at Mike. “Game over.”

“Barris, Roush, and...” Kael paused and checked to see if there was anyone else to pick. There wasn’t. “Sekkaro, you’re with me.” He uploaded Mike’s file to read on the flight.

The three rose and crossed the distance to where he stood, waiting. “Meet me in the main hangar in fifteen, full personal kit, emergency

rations for a week. Roush, make sure Sekkaro has everything he’ll need.“ Colonel Sunde logged them as replacements and left to pack his gear.

*

The Beast arrived at Vorta just before dawn, and Colonel Sunde scanned the site from the air before he spoke. “Vorta Botanical’s last check-in was two nights ago. Captain Trati, Corporal Barris, and Private Roush, you’re with me. Doc, are there any signs of life below?”

Alfred shook his head. “Scanners detected traces of blood, but not enough biomatter to be bodies. Three days wouldn’t be enough time for full decomposition to have occurred, even if the facility’s seals were compromised.”

“Since when does Clan Evora dispose of corpses?” Scott asked.

“They don’t,” Tris answered. “They leave them to rot in the open. I don’t see the bodies in the field down there.”

“I thought that was a M’Kang thing?” Mike stared down at the small clearing below them. He didn’t feel Hallie’s cold stare.

“M’Kang don’t dishonor the dead,” she muttered.

Kael silenced any further discussion. “Don’t believe everything you see on the newsfeed, Private Sekkaro. Alright, we’ve got work to do, starting with checking out the building. Hallie, don’t land until I signal.”

The four rappelled down and disappeared into the structure below. Five minutes later, they appeared on the landing pad again and set up the desiccant packs around the perimeter.

Kael called up. “All clear. Whoever hit this place took everything portable. What worries me is there’s no evidence of a fight, just a few bloodstains.” There was a pause. “Be advised, this is now a Protocol Nine mission. Scott, Tris, sweep the perimeter and locate their trail.”

The Beast descended, landing with an ear-rending, metal-on-metal screech that echoed around the clearing.

“Lock her down, Hallie,” Kael yelled as the sound faded, He grabbed his pack and a crate of supplies, then led the remaining team down the weather-worn stairs to the stone bunker. Over half of the structure was coated with a recent dusting of iridescent mold spores; slender, black creepers were establishing a toehold in the thicker sections.

Alfred started inflating the specialized tents that would form the med- bay and living quarters.

Jason and Kael set up the bio-screens and filters.

Hallie grunted as she unpacked the defoliant foam canisters and screwed them into back tanks, then she charged the hose. “Here, Sekkaro, you can give me a hand with the gardening.” She handed Mike a pack and showed him how to activate the pump. “Point and shoot. Simple.”

“I thought the only way you could kill mold was with fire?”

“This stuff contains the spores; it’s for when you’re stuck in proximity. Burn Crews don’t have to camp out on site like we do.” She led him outside and began the process of removing the invading greenery.

*

It took twenty minutes to reseal the structure against the elements.

Hallie set up the remaining fans, and Alfred began the atmospheric detox within the living section.

Kael beckoned Mike over to the side once he’d finished his part of the work.

He smiled kindly at the young man.

Mike grinned back nervously. “Sir?”

“Relax. I just want you to understand that I’d have left you at the base if we weren’t short-handed; I’m sorry I had to tag you for this mission.”

“May I ask why, sir?” Mike stiffened, embarrassed, and uncertain of how to take the remark.

“I’ve looked at your file, and it’s clear your family arranged to have you sent to us as punishment detail. Don’t worry, there are other people of Rank serving similar sentences at Farlen. Ten years ago, you’d all have been assigned to a quiet station along the front for your indiscretions; sadly, no one seems to understand that duty in the Seep is far more dangerous than border patrols ever were.”

Mike flushed. “I’m not useless, sir, I—“

Kael held up his hand, silencing the protest. “Your file didn’t list the induction center you were processed through; that means you weren’t trained.”

“No, sir, but I spent four years working in the main testing facility of Sekk-Tech, where I handled pretty much every new prototype we produced. I can assist with maintaining any of the weaponry we’re equipped with. I’m a good shot, but I’ve never had to shoot at another person. I’m not bad in a brawl.”

Alfred joined them. “Your file doesn’t list your Rank, but that’s not uncommon on a punishment detail. If I may ask, where are you placed in the Sekkaro line of succession?”

“I’m… second son.” Mike looked around, nervous about what the team would think about him now. Alfred’s expression shifted to concern, and he turned to Kael. “Hallie should fly him back to Farlen, then return for us.”

Hallie stopped what she was doing. “Sorry. No-can-do. You must have missed my report to Jason, Doc. The Beast needs an overhaul; we pushed it taking her out for this. I can get us back to Farlen, but I can’t guarantee anything past that. You could be sitting out here for weeks while I find us a loaner; there’s nothing left in the Mech-Bays that can handle weather.”

Colonel Sunde’s expression darkened momentarily. “Damn it. Okay, you’re off any ranging duty, but you’re not just going to sit around. Rank or no, we’re going to need you to pull double your weight in the support area.”

“Yes, sir,” Mike replied.

“Does anyone have a problem with this?” Kael asked again, but to the rest of them this time.

“No, sir.” The group answered in unison.

Mike put his hand up. “A question, sir. What is a ‘Protocol Nine’ mission? I’ve never heard the term.”

Kael exhaled; his scowl deepened. “Our team is frontline search and rescue; our mandate is to save lives. Protocol Nine is the military directive that extends our purview to include combat; it’s what upgrades us to search and destroy missions.

Everyone turned as Scott and Tris entered the airlock, then watched as the scouts were scanned for contaminants. A reddish light worked its way down them, sterilizing their enviro-suits completely before the door unlocked.

“Colonel, we found their trail; it’s less than a day old. They’re heading South into the basin,” Tris reported. She took off her helmet and ran her fingers through her spiky hair.

“Excellent. You, Scott, and Jason are with me; you have fifteen minutes to get ready.” Kael picked up his helmet. “Everyone rig your enviro-suits for full recycling; it may be a few days before we get back here, then see Doc for stims and boosters, then make sure all the supplement and water pouches in your vests are filled. Check all the filters before you seal up.”

“It’s easier to set up a suit that you’re not wearing.” Alfred walked Mike through the steps as he set Jason’s suit up, then turned his attention to Scott.

“Well Mike, I guess that means you’re assisting me.” Kael’s wide grin put the younger man at ease.

Tris motioned to Hallie and led her over to the far corner of the room. “You’ll be careful, won’t you? Promise me that if Clan Evora shows up, you won’t try to take them on, singlehanded.”

“Aren’t I supposed to say that to you? You’re the one going out there.” Hallie’s wicked grin followed as she tugged one of her girlfriend’s straps into place. “You never get this part right; how did you pass basic.”

“Promise me.” “I promise.”

*

Has it only been three days since we left Vorta? Between the trailblazing and the skirmishes, it feels like decades. Jason cast a wary eye up at the foliage above them. The oppressive presence of the storm moved over them, but little of the moisture penetrated the thick upper canopy. The only noise was the sound of the rain hitting the leaves, and the muffled hiss as the acidic droplets hit their waxy surface. Monsoon is early this year. Reflexively he checked the readouts on his envirosuit. Clan Evora or no, we need to retreat.

“Any sign of them?” Kael asked quietly. He winced as he eased himself back against a tree.

Jason adjusted his helm-cam and scanned the jungle around them. There were no other man-sized lifeforms nearby. “No. The storm’s driven them off.” He frowned and smacked the device; only three squad IDs were registering. He glanced over at the clump of giant ferns where Tris had taken refuge during the last firefight. “Barris?” There was no answer. “Tris, report!”

Scott crept into the undergrowth to look for his friend.

“Roush, report,” Kael growled, then jiggled his helmet antenna to see if he could get rid of the static.

“Man down… Aw, hell! She’s dead.” Scott parted the fronds and pulled Tris’ inert form out into the open. “She got shot up, but that wasn’t what killed her.” Scott pointed to a jagged tear in her enviro-suit which extended from her chest to her navel. “She got hung up on a Y’Landril vine and couldn’t get free.”

“Fuck,” Jason muttered under his breath. He checked the dead woman over. The thorns had cut deep; the wounds were filled with the tell-tale crimson puss. Y’Landril poisoning – quick, but not a warrior’s death. Hallie’s going to be crushed. The exposed skin was a vivid green and had taken on the texture of moss. Captain Trati took stock of his team-mates; no one had escaped unscathed. Can’t save the dead. Attend to the living.

Scott had been shot multiple times during their first fire-fight, but his suit had plugged the holes and resealed before he’d been compromised.

Jason examined him, then checked his biosign panel. “Still no infection. You made it - you’re clear, Private.”

Scott exhaled in relief.

Jason approached Kael. He’d fallen from a rocky outcropping and landed badly. Half his visor was occluded with spray-seal, and the biosign panel on his enviro-suit indicated a skull fracture, optic nerve damage, and internal bleeding. “Your head’s a bit bashed in, and there are a couple of small bleeders, but no sign of infection, sir. How are you doing?”

“I’ll be alright; quick healing runs in my family.” Jason grinned. “Thick skulls too, it seems.”

Kael chuckled, then winced.

Jason found a rock to sit on, then shifted his weight and discreetly examined his left leg. Good, the envirosuit sealed cleanly. It’s been two days since the bog, and I’m still alive. Here’s hoping. He applied pressure to the area around the puncture. There was no sensation. He pressed harder. Nothing! He ran his index finger up toward his pelvis and realized his entire thigh was numb. A cold wave of fear washed over him. He checked his biosign panel just to be sure; the readings were all yellow. Low-grade fever… infection. He covered the panel up and stood. “Enough sitting around.” Jason extended his hand to Kael. “I recommend we retreat.”

Kael looked blankly at him for a moment, then he gave a slow thumbs up. “Excellent suggestion, Jason.” He accepted the help in standing and then carefully picked his way over to Tris’ body. “In accordance with her traditions, we need to bury her.”

Scott and Jason dug a shallow grave and gently moved their companion into it.

Kael removed Tris’ tags. “A moment of silence for the fallen.”

The three survivors stood; heads bent in quiet regard for their friend before Scott released the enviro-suit’s safety seals. As the seams opened, the jungle around them seemed to exhale in response. A glittering cloud of orange pollen floated down to cover them. The three men filled in the grave and with a final salute from Kael, the squad, took their leave and faded into the green.

*

Two days later, the Seep was in full flood, as unseasonably high levels in Lake Evora continued to run off. Their trek was slowed many times as they had to re-plot safe paths through the maze of green water and shifting sandbanks. The humidity climbed, and there were times they could see their armor steaming as the acidity in the air attacked it. Many of the reliable stone paths were under inches of water already.

“Colonel, I’ve found a faster path, it just involves a couple of puddles, but they’re over stone.” Jason pointed off into the jungle.

Kael checked the readings and nodded. “We’ll have to be quick; our suits won’t hold out much longer.” He turned and offered his arm to Scott. “We’re almost home. Survive this last bit, and I’ll sign off on a nice, long furlough for you.”

“You haven’t made me that offer.” Jason moved to the other side of Scott and helped him stand and balance.

“What would you do with time off?”

“I’d—“

“Fuck!” Scott winced as he put weight down on his leg. “Painkillers are wearing off.”

“We’ll be there soon; Doc will patch us up, good as new,” Kael’s smile now drooped slightly on one side.

Scott didn’t seem to notice that the Colonel was slurring his words, but Jason did. “Okay, time to move out; the water levels aren’t getting any lower.”

*

A short time later they crested a hill and found themselves looking across a small valley at Vorta Botanical. Jason breathed a sigh of relief. We’re going to make it.

“Sirs, there’s smoke on the next ridgeline.” Scott pointed at the base. “I can’t tell more, my camera battery’s dead.”

Jason zoomed his helm-cam in. The low power light flashed in the upper portion of his visor, but he ignored it. “It looks like the site has been burnt out past the boundary markers… parts of it are still reading as hot. The Beast is there, but I don’t detect movement. Three heat signatures are inside. I’m reading Hallie’s, Mike’s and Doc’s ID tags.” He squinted, trying to make things out in the gloom. I didn’t think it was that late. He looked up and saw the sun sitting roughly in the position of thirteen hundred. It was a dull, white orb in a sky of gathering darkness. Gods! I’m going blind.

“See anything else, Jason?” Kael was now slurring his words like a drunk.

“No, sir.” Jason looked at his teammates; the shadow that was Kael was still standing, but he wasn’t sure how at this point. The dark blur that was Scott was doubled over in pain. Doc can fix us. “I recommend we pick up the pace.”

*

An hour later the men reached the perimeter of Vorta Botanical. The jungle around them bore evidence of a fierce firefight. The thick leaves were riddled with fresh holes, trees had been virtually cut in half from the rounds, and smaller trees had splintered. They crouched in the green and listened. The jungle around them was alive with birdsong and insects. Everything at ground level was covered in a sticky sap, and soon it clung to them as well.

Jason ran his glove along the dark blurriness that was the charred grass and touched the ground. It was slightly warmer than the sun on his face. “Birds and bugs, but no predators yet. This can’t have happened too long ago.”

“The Beast did most of this,” Scott observed quietly.

Kael pointed out into the charred clearing. “I count eight bodies. Jason?”

Jason squinted and was just able to see the darkened lumps his commander was talking about. “Confirmed.”

“Our drip-torch doesn’t have that kind of range—“ Kael tried to stand and fell sideways instead.

“Are you alright, sir?” Jason reached out to help him up. “I’ve definitely been better.”

“There’s just a few hundred meters left, sir. Why don’t we make a run for it?” Scott asked.

“Simple. You can’t run now – we’d be dragging you across the field and through any potential traps left out there.” Kael struggled to his feet.

“You got three suit markers on that last reading, right Jason?” “Yes. Are you up for some recon?”

“Race you there.”

Kael went left, Jason went right, circling the clearing from just within the treeline. They found no sign of the enemy. The men met at the entrance of the bunker and entered; weapons drawn. The airlock was blown, a familiar red moss had infested it and was trying to establish itself in the room beyond. Blood spattered the walls of the Med-Bay, and orange pollen stuck to it; feeding on it and creating new life. They could see movement at the back of the structure. There were two autonomic suspension bags on gurneys. The biosign panels indicated that the occupants were alive, but the stats on the one closest to them was well into the red on all levels.

“That’s Mike. The autonomic suspension bag is keeping him alive.” A figure approached them; his enviro-suit was held together with weld-tape. The visor was gone. “Welcome back,” Alfred spoke slowly through a filter mask, his voice was almost unrecognizable. “Where are the others?”

“Tris is dead. We left Scott in the weeds outside.” Kael turned. “Jason, would you go get him?”

“On it.” Jason turned and bumped into the door frame. He discretely ran two fingers along the wall as he left.

“You look like you’ve been through it; what happened?” Kael asked as Alfred began examining him.

“We were attacked forty-eight hours after you left camp. They hit from the North and immediately tried for The Beast. They wore a mix of Ankor and Korlo gear.” Alfred wiped the moisture off his safety goggles as he caught his breath.

“The timing corresponds with our first encounter.”

“I don’t think they were expecting much of a fight. They had the numbers and time; even with our having terrain advantage they just had to wait for us to run out of ammo.” Alfred paused to catch his breath. “On the second day of the siege Hallie and Mike ran the gauntlet up to The Beast, and I remained here to cover them. I will heartily endorse the fact that young Sekkaro knows his weapons. I’m not sure what he and Hallie did to extend the range on The Beast’s drip torch, but you’ve seen the results—“ Alfred quickly lifted his mask and coughed up a chunk of dark orange phlegm, He cleaned his glove off with a rag and indicated the two bags. “I know Hallie was operating the big gun; I could hear her laughter while she was firing. A sniper got her, but she was lucky; she’ll just need a spleen replacement. Mike was less fortunate and will require spinal regen.”

Kael leaned against the wall, barely avoiding a damp patch. “What about you, Doc? What happened down here?”

Alfred sat on the edge of the table and composed himself. “Last night, Vorta was attacked again.” He shuddered. “One of the perimeter alarms went off. I checked, and the readout identified five lifeforms; no weapons, no envirosuits. I took them to be scavengers and ignored them. When the creatures managed to open the airlock, I realized they were something more… intelligent. Thank the Gods they set off the sterilization protocols; I’ll be honest, that’s what saved me. I watched three of the things dissolve in the chamber before the remaining pair tore it apart. They are responsible for all the damage in here… and to me.” Alfred pointed to a third ASB on the floor. “I managed to get one bagged before it rotted away. I’m sure someone at KMR and D will be thrilled with their new sample.”

“Any idea of what they were?” Kael asked as he stared at the ASB. He was certain he saw it move. “Are you sure you killed it—“

“Prep another bag,” Jason announced as he dragged Scott through the door.

Kael turned to his second in command. “Roush doesn’t need an ASB; did something happen—“

“It’s for me…” Jason crumpled in a heap, taking Scott with him.

Alfred crossed the distance between them in a flash, then knelt to check the biosign panel. “Jason’s in cardiac arrest; his tag reads infection!” He activated the timer on his digipad and grabbed the stim packs from the little case attached to his belt.

Kael pulled a new ASB out of a crate.

“Scott, strip off his helmet and enviro-suit, and apply these patches to the captain’s neck and chest,” Alfred ordered as he readied the ventilator tube.

Scott spotted the black vein when he removed the belt. He pointed to it. “There. Left leg.” The timer beeped.

“Thirty seconds,” Alfred said as he stuck a small neural patch to Jason’s right temple and activated it. He inserted the thick needle into Jason’s neck and attached it to the ASB life support system. The timer beeped again. “One minute.”

Alfred and Kael lifted Jason and slid him into the bag, sealed it, then watched in silence as it filled with gel. The timer beeped a final time.

Alfred examined the small flexible tag on the outside of the bag. “There’s brain activity, and suspension will hold things in check, but I can’t give you an answer until we get back.” He made a notation into his digipad, then picked up his scanner and plugged it into the small port on Scott’s suit. “No signs of infection, but you’re going to be off-duty for a while, Private.” He unplugged the scanner and approached Kael.

“I’m fine, Doc.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Alfred plugged the scanner into Kael’s enviro-suit. “Internal bleeding, four small cranial fractures, lacerated eye, damage to the optical nerve, and a concussion.” He set the device down, removed his mask, and coughed. The phlegm was more of a reddish color now.

Kael frowned, concerned. “That’s not good.”

“I’ve done all I can for myself. The sooner we get everyone to a Med-Bay, the better.” Alfred replaced his mask, momentarily revealing the caustic burns he’d sustained.

“I’m not fit to fly. Jason and Hallie aren’t in a position to do it…” Kael stated the obvious. “I can’t remember if you’re certified?”

Alfred shook his head. “I should be in an ASB as well.”

“Once we’re in the air, would the auto-pilot get us back to base, sir?” Scott asked.

“Provided we don’t hit heavy weather, yes.” Kael grinned lop-sidedly at him. “Would you like to get some unofficial pilot training, Private?

*

It took the injured men the rest of the day to load their friends and stow them securely in the hold.

Alfred prepped an autonomic suspension bag for himself while they were waiting for the engines to warm up. “Here’s my report.” He handed Kael his digipad. “I’ve formally requested that we’re all transferred directly to Merrow Cluster for treatment. Don’t worry, I’ve listed Jason as my patient and requested they leave him in quarantined suspension. Once I’ve recovered, I’ll do everything I can for him.”

“Your Rank has its privileges. Thank you.” Kael helped the doctor into his ASB, and finished the hookups, “Sleep well.”

“We’ve got green-lights across the board, sir,” Scott called back.

Colonel Sunde sat in the co-pilot’s chair and strapped himself in. He patted the dash of The Beast. “Private Roush, take us home.”

***

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