by John Walker
“My report states he has some form of amnesia. Can you assist?”
Laura closed her eyes and shook her head. “With one of our own crew members? Probably, yes. But an alien? I mean, his body is quite a lot like ours but I have no idea what our drugs will do to him. I can’t even speculate as to how he’d react to anything we throw his way. The best I’ve got is non-traditional practices, massage and…and acupuncture. Even then, I’ll be guessing!”
“That’s all I can ask for,” Gray replied. “However, allow me to express the gravity of the situation: he has information that will allow us to possibly defeat the invading ships that entered our solar system.”
“Great, no pressure, Gray!”
“I wouldn’t have said that if it wasn’t dire and he wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t important.”
Laura sighed. “Understood. I’ll do what I can. Brand out.” She paced for a moment, head bowed in thought. The poor man must be terrified of what was happening and considering his situation, she didn’t blame him. He woke up in the middle of a major battle amidst strangers, aliens without his memory.
We’re lucky he hasn’t lost his mind.
“Max,” Laura called to one of the younger doctors. He was a slight man, no more than twenty-eight but a fantastic doctor. He graduated top of his class, the last one she taught. “We’re going to need a full workup of our guest. Blood, tissue samples, the works but before we get into that, we have a pressing need to restore his memory.”
“Doctor…” Max gave her a perplexed look. “I…do you know what you’re asking? Amnesia can be caused by practically anything. Physical trauma, psychological…age. Any treatment we might offer depends on why he can’t remember anything.” Realization struck his face. “You already know all of this.”
“Yes, and in some cases, there’s no treatment but giving the victim some time.” Laura turned to the patient. “But we have to try something. We can’t rely on any drugs, not without the workup to understand how they’d effect him. However, we can try some less evasive methods. Maybe some non-traditional concepts.”
“Like what?” Max shrugged. “Massage?”
Laura smirked. “Funny, but not entirely out of the question. I’m going to do a thorough brain scan. Get the labs ready and let’s hope he’s not all that different from us.”
“I’m on it, Ma’am.” Max hurried off. Laura didn’t disagree with his assessment. As was typical of high level command figures, they asked for results they didn’t understand. Just fix it might work for an engine or computer but a living being didn’t cooperate like technology. The biological machine analogy didn’t hold true.
Laura joined Captain Paltein again, offering him a smile. “Sorry about the delay, sir. I’m going to do a thorough scan of your head, to see if we can do something about your memory loss. Again, it won’t take long and it won’t hurt.”
The device translated and he replied. Again, the elegant voice spoke through the speaker. “He states that he is okay with you doing whatever you need to do but would like to better understand what is happening. What ship is he aboard and what has happened to his people?”
“Tell him he is aboard the USS Behemoth, a ship from Earth. His people are in suspended animation and just fine.” Laura paused. “Also, let him know we’re under attack by invaders and knowledge he possesses may save us all.”
God, I hope that was the right thing to say.
When the computer finished translating for her, a look of determination crossed the man’s face. He looked at her with his strange, teal eyes and smiled, albeit nervously. She reached out and gently touched his shoulder. The reassuring gesture had the effect she hoped for and he relaxed into the gurney.
Laura’s scanner lit up as she held it near the crown of her patient’s head. The tablet immediately displayed an image of his brain, a holographic representation that became more detailed the longer she held it there. The organ itself appeared to be the same as a human’s and the activity appeared similar.
After a moment, the picture began to fill in with color. White parts were considered healthy with yellow points of concern and red outright damage. Luckily for him, nothing came back red but some yellow presented itself on the sides. She moved the scanner to the sides to collect more data including internal measurements of the skull.
Aha… Laura’s back stiffened as she noted he was suffering from some minor swelling. And therein lies the problem. I’m guessing the process of revival happened too quickly and caused some trauma to his organs. I’ll bet when we do the complete workup, we’ll find other, similar issues.
“Max!” Laura called and he hurried over. “Brain swelling.”
“What?” Max looked at the scans. “Oh my…subtle but…definitely enough to cause the symptoms.”
Laura nodded. “Exactly. Now we just have to determine how we’re going to reduce it safely. I have a thought. They have a tech crew over on the alien vessel.”
“Yeah, I know Ensign Cathleen Brooks. Her parents were friends with mine. She mentioned she was heading over there.”
“Can you reach out to them and see if they have access to any of their physiology records? We can at least determine if there are any allergies he might have as a species.”
“I’m on it.” Max stepped away and Laura returned to the Captain.
“Sir, we’re going to take some samples of your blood and skin tissue. It’s nothing to worry about. We just need to better understand your anatomy so we can help you. Okay?”
The computer translated then replied after the man muttered to it. “He says that will be fine, Ma’am.”
“Okay, thank you. Here we go.” I hope Max finds something. We don’t have time for a proper workup right now. Not with the way Atwell was talking at least. She prepared a needle and offered him a thin smile. “Try not to look, sir. It hurts less if you don’t see it coming.”
***
Cathleen’s com went off and she acknowledged it with a tap, still studying the console she worked on. “Ensign Brooks here.”
“Hey, Cathy, it’s Max. Do you have a quick second?”
“Only just. What’s going on?”
“I’ve got the alien over here on one of my tables but in order to treat him, we need some more information. Organs and such seem to be in the right place but we have no idea if he’s allergic to anything or if he might have special requirements that aren’t being met. Do you have access to any medical records?”
“Checking.” Cathleen tapped her screen. “Hey, Sid, do we have access to personnel records? Specifically, the medical kind?”
“Partially,” Sid replied. “I will download them to your tablet.”
“Max, I’m sending you what I’ve got. Don’t know how complete it is…I’m cleaning up database corruption all over the place.”
“If that’s what you’ve got, it’ll have to do for now,” Max replied. “If you come across more, please send it over right away.”
“Will do, Brooks out.”
“Who was that?” Olly asked.
“One of the doctors. They needed medical records. How’re you doing on your end?”
“I could wake them all up at this point,” Olly said. “Looks like we’ve also got all shields, weapons and propulsion to one hundred percent. If we had a pilot up there, we’d be combat effective for sure.”
“We sure gave it to the bad guys earlier.”
“Yeah, I suspect that was because we surprised them.” Olly joined her at her console. “Can you get us to a point where we can put in security clearance codes? If those doctors are successful, we’ll need to enter that info fast.”
“Sure, I’ve got a screen open in another task.” Cathleen showed him. “Sid initiated it for me.”
“Great.” Olly patted her on the shoulder. “Hey, Sid, how long to open up all the databanks once we have some permission from your captain?”
“No more than one minute, sir. The data is available, but guarded. All but the fringe information
Ensign Brooks has been working on is fairly well preserved. Storage managed the trip, and the various pitfalls, quite nicely.”
“Sounds good. Let’s keep on the ready. I have a feeling they’ll get back to us soon.”
I sure hope he’s right, Cathleen thought, for all our sakes.
***
Max brought the information over to Laura, standing beside her with his tablet. “The medical records were translated by the ship’s AI. They do not appear to be all that different from us. Stomach, kidneys, liver, all performing the same functions ours do. Furthermore, their blood composition is also the same.”
“This lends evidence to the seed culture theory some scientists talk about,” Laura said. “That some precursor race planted human beings on various planets.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call this proof of a fringe theory,” Max replied, “but yes, it does elevate it somewhat. Before, it had barely any proof.”
“Anyway, run a simulation and see what a shot of Neuron thirty-four would do.” Laura hummed. “He’s got a medium build so I’d say plug in twenty CCs. Should be sufficient to reduce the swelling and prevent any sort of blockage. The last thing we want is for him to experience a stroke.”
“The simulation will take a good ten minutes or so.”
Laura grinned. “You’d better get on it then. Time’s a wasting.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Max headed off to his desk when the alarm went off. What now?! He thought. Can we go thirty minutes without some disaster?
“Imminent attack.” Agatha White’s voice blared through the overhead speakers. “All hands to battle stations.”
Max sighed. Apparently not.
Chapter 17
Paul watched as their fighters screamed by to intercept the attacking force. This time, the enemy sent six fighters and a much larger ship with a sharp nose. He analyzed it’s frame and signature but could not determine the purpose. It seemed like a shuttlecraft but bristled with weapons. He fed the info over to Olly but even he had no idea what they were facing.
“What’re they doing?” Everly asked. “It looks like they’re on a collision course!”
“Very possible,” Clea replied. “Look at the design of that vessel.”
Gray and Everly both squinted. “Oh my…” Gray muttered. “They mean to board us.”
“That’s my thought,” Clea said. “I would lock turrets on and fire.”
“Way ahead of you,” Redding replied, tapping a button. Their weapons started firing, splashing off the shields of the shuttle as it barreled toward them.
“What the hell is powering that thing?” Everly shook his head. “How is it taking that kind of damage?”
Their fighters engaged, entering a wild dogfight with the other ships. A couple landed some decent shots on the shuttle but it continued pressing on, an unstoppable juggernaught ignoring all punishment they threw at it. It closed in with less than a thousand meters to go, Gray slammed his com.
“Security, prepare for intruders on Deck…” He checked his readings. “Thirty-two. They will be initiating hull breach in less than three minutes.”
“What do they hope to accomplish?” Tim asked. “They can’t possibly think they can take the ship! Not with the few guys they could fit on that thing.”
“Maybe they don’t have to,” Clea replied. “Maybe they are here on a suicide mission.”
“For what?” Redding asked.
“To kill our guest.”
Realization hit Paul. It made perfect sense. If they worried the guy might impart the Protocol Seven information, then he had to die. He had the potential to turn the tide of the battle back their way and allow them to win. Such a concern might breed a desperate mission such as this but they had to know it was doomed to fail.
Or was it?
“Security, send a detail to the hospital.” Everly must’ve read Paul’s mind. He figured it would be a lot safer if they had someone guarding Captain Paltein rather than just praying they could hold them at the lower levels. Of course, that assumed the possibility the bad guys could get further into the ship.
Terrifying thought. Paul tried to focus on his scans, right up to the point he had to yell, “brace for impact!” a half second before the vessel struck them. It flew right through their shields and penetrated the hull, sliding neatly into the ship and wedging itself tightly in the hole. This allowed them to prevent the vacuum of space to suck them out when they disembarked.
God, I hope our guys are up for this! Paul watched helplessly as the security forces converged on the area. He took a moment to pray then leaned back and observed fate unfold in all its fickle glory.
***
Lieutenant Colonel Dupont coordinated his men, setting up check points in the event that the enemy broke through their lines. The area the invaders broke through gave them access to two different directions to take, constituting a two line front if they hoped to get further into the ship. Marines stationed in both corridors waited for the ship to open. They wore environmental suits in case the ship dislodged itself, leaving behind a hull breach.
His squads reported in that they were in position, six troops taking up both positions. Behind them, six more waited as reinforcements, there to prevent a deeper breach into the ship. Their orders were simple: kill the enemy at all costs. They carried heavy rifles and grenades to effect this command. Damage to the section was preferable to an escaped alien rampaging throughout the ship.
They broke through living quarters, destroying several of the rooms for the enlisted men. Luckily, everyone in that area happened to be on duty at the time and no one was killed. One man fell down who was halfway down the corridor and broke his wrist but otherwise, casualties were minor.
Dupont stood before his command screens, watching the helmet cams of his men as they aimed at the enemy ship. Tension remained thick as anticipation mounted. No one had seen the enemy face to face and the alliance didn’t describe them either. This would be the first contact any of them had with the enemy in a combat situation. No longer separated by space and large vessels, they finally revealed themselves for what they were.
I doubt they’re monsters. The thought made Dupont frown. Much as he wanted to believe the sentiment, a part of him didn’t believe it. These bastards killed a lot of good men when they attacked before and he found out they did a lot worse to the alliance on several occasions. If they weren’t beasts from horror stories, then he didn’t know how he’d reconcile their atrocious actions.
Evil doesn’t have to be ugly. Just ask Lucifer.
“Something’s happening.” The voice drew Dupont back to watch the screens. He saw the front of the vessel begin to open, revealing a black chamber beyond. When the panel stopped moving, it was easily wide enough to allow five or six men to pass through standing abreast. “No movement and motion scanners are negative.”
“Don’t rely on those,” Dupont said. “We have no idea what these guys are capable of doing to our sensor equipment.”
“Roger, sir.”
The Behemoth corridors allowed for decent sized gear to travel anywhere in the ship. This meant three people could walk abreast comfortably. Dupont had his men practice combat maneuvers on every deck and they knew their way around better than anyone aboard. This also granted them the advantage of knowing how best to set up defensive positions.
When the first responders arrived in front of the enemy shuttle, they set down mobile cover, a large chunk of metal with handles roughly a meter and a half tall. Three men crouched in front of it, aiming their weapons over with three more behind them, prepared to pop up and fire as necessary. This was mirrored around the the corner.
Twenty feet behind them, other crews set up the same way. Guards were posted at the elevators and even the small access tunnels for maintenance. Dupont felt the area was as secure as it could be considering how the enemy penetrated their defenses. He doubted they had a similar tactic to get deeper into the ship.
And I’m pretty sure they’re
not immune to small arms fire.
Security forces carried cutting edge pulse rifles. Their rechargeable magazines fired a hundred rounds before needing to be replaced but after five minutes in a portable cradle, they’d be ready to go again. On Earth, they proved capable of cutting through titanium and the most powerful combat armor. Shipboard shields ignored them but an unprotected fighter would be in trouble if someone got a clean shot off.
“Contact!” Dupont leaned forward to see what one of his people saw. At first, he thought they issued a false alarm when four tall humanoids rushed from their shuttle. They wore black, bulky armor covering every part of their bodies. The helmets were all angles with two sharp points which seemed to make horns and a rounded space where a human chin might be. None of them seemed to be armed, or at least, their massive hands were empty.
The marines opened fire, their blasts splashing against the teal light of shields. Dupont couldn’t believe his eyes.
They have personal shields?! Are you kidding me?
They’d toyed with the idea on Earth. The Alliance representative even offered some ideas and advice but they couldn’t perfect it without burdening their soldiers under the weight of a bulky backpack. It worked for ground fortifications but people were out of the question. I want that technology. We could change ground warfare!
Providing we survive this encounter.
“Scatter your fire!” Dupont shouted. “There has to be a weak point! Spread it over the whole body!”
The first of the invaders reached his men’s cover and casually grabbed the metal and threw it behind him. It clattered against the hull of their shuttle just as he threw himself on a marine. He lifted his massive fist to pummel the man but the other five soldiers dove in, dragging him off with all their effort.
Jesus Christ, I hope that’s some kind of power assisted armor because if they’re simply that strong… Dupont blocked the rest of the thought and glared at the screen. The marine who went down scrambled backward as one of his comrades placed his rifle directly against the face of the alien and pulled the trigger.
