Marda nodded. “What happened to your team?”
A pained expression ran across her face for a moment before she stared up at the ceiling. Hatred filled her bloodshot eyes. “The Gorvians wiped them out, including my mate.”
“I’m sorry,” Marda replied, her thoughts going to Blazer. As stealthily as she could, she activated his medical link and checked his life signs. He was fine; stressed, but all right.
“Your mate?” she asked. “Is he aboard? Is he alive?”
Marda nodded. “He escorted your ship in.”
“He’s Special Ops? I saw the tail code; Monstero Nach. You guys have done some impressive work; especially on the Planet Slicer.”
The surprise she felt at that must have shown as Vitongnoc smiled back. “Thank you. We’re proud of our work there. Are you Special Ops?”
Vitongnoc nodded, winced in reaction. “Rescue off the Robial. Doctor, make me a promise. Please?”
Marda took the hand that didn’t belong to her patient and squeezed it. “Marda, Marda Vaughnt. I’ll do my best.”
“Fealgud.”
“Okay Fealgud, what’s your request?”
“If you can’t get me back into the fight, then help me move beyond.”
The request tripped every emotion Marda had and sent the baby jumping about. Of course, she would do everything she could to help her, but to assist in her suicide if she couldn’t? Marda wasn’t sure what to do. She started to reply when a commotion across the room drew her attention.
A Lodran struck out at Dr Larrigan throwing the smaller Drashig across the room. Blood erupted from a massive gash across the doctor’s chest. Marda’s training took over and she rushed towards the altercation. She looked to the nurse at a nearby bed as she backed away. “Neural suppressant,” she began and her micomm called up the correct medication and dosage. Marda doubled it. If the Gorvians had killed the patient's pain response, then he might not be as prone to the drugs. “Four ticks of Neuro Lod Brave! Now!” She ordered as she ran.
She was acutely aware of her condition as she approached, the baby flailing about as she ground to a halt. The Lodran towered over Dr Larrigan, ready to kill the frail Drashig. Marda held up her hands and rotated them to point her fingers down with her palms forward. “Honorable lord of the seas, please calm yourself.”
The Lodran turned towards her. Blood still dripped from alien claws, grey blood seeping from between his razor-sharp teeth. Rage filled all four of the glassy black eyes. He was in a full-on feral rage state. There was no way Marda would ever be able to get close enough to dose the big Lodran without putting herself, and her baby, at risk. Beside her, the nurse fumbled with the injector, drawing the Lodran’s gaze. Screw this, Marda thought and pulled her sidearm.
She watched the Lodran for a moment; looked for any sign that he recognized the weapon. He did and started forward, unsteady on his alien legs. Marda hit him with a stun blast. The Lodran kept coming so Marda fired again. This time he slowed and Marda hit twice more. The seven metra tall giant collapsed to the deck.
She dropped to a knee at the Lodran’s side, holstering her weapon, checking for a pulse. It was there, weak, and erratic, but it was there. “Get him into restraints,” she ordered and rushed over to Dr Larrigan.
The older Drashig did his best to staunch the blood flow but shoving his lab coat into the wound simply wasn’t enough. He gasped for air, clutching at his throat. Marda turned to the nearest medic. “Trauma sealant and a skin patch! Now!” She turned back to Dr Larrigan. “It’s all right sir. Just keep the pressure on,” she instructed him as the nurse ran back with the requested medical devices. “I’m going to pull your hand away and apply a skin patch.”
Dr Larrigan nodded and Marda proceeded. Blood sprayed as he pulled his hand back. Marda slapped the nano-infused skin graft into place. It molded itself to the front of his throat, sealing the wound. He pulled in his first good lungful of air. Marda examined the wound on his chest. While the blood flow had slowed it still seeped through. She couldn’t believe it, but the flesh looked necrotic already. “What the Sheol?”
Dr Larrigan looked at her with questioning eyes. The skin patch contained a pain inhibitor that paralyzed his vocal chords.
“The wounds,” she began, looked at the Lodran. “Get a skin sample off those hands and of that blood. I need to see how it reacts to non-altered flesh.” She turned back to the doctor before her. “The wound is already infected. I’m going to take you straight to surgery and excise the damaged tissue before it spreads.”
Dr Larrigan managed a weak smile and his hand fell to his macomm. Marda looked. It was still open with a status report on it. The Gorvian Prison ship had self-destructed without warning. The scientists aboard studying the hybridization process had no warning and so hadn’t escaped. The act had denied them any hope of using the data they’d collected to reverse what the Gorvians had done. Marda looked back around the medical bay. There was a good chance that she would soon have to help every patient within to the next life.
UCSB Date 1003.365
Medical Bay 3, UCSBS Mercy, Veglid System
For over a tridec the doctors and scientists of the Mercy worked throughout the cycle to find a way to safely restore the experimented-on prisoners to their former selves. Far too often, their attempts to save the liberated hybrids had resulted in death. Within a decle the hybrids would start to degrade. Something in their ship’s environment, or lack of some treatment they’d received with the Gorvians, had resulted in rejection of the grafted limbs and organs.
Marda sought an answer, but it kept eluding her. She’d study each of the patients after they’d died, searching for commonalities. She had to do so via remote, her desire to keep her baby healthy outweighed her duty. After what had happened to Dr Larrigan no one could have blamed her. She’d spent close to a hect in surgery after his attack, hacking away every bit of necrotic flesh left behind and even the healthy tissue around it. At first it had appeared to work. He was healthy for a decle and began to resume his duties. Then he began to cough up blood.
Now he lay near death; monitors were displaying his condition as it deteriorated in spite of the catalog of drugs they’d pumped into him. Marda had done everything she could to save him. She’d even cut off the arm of the Lodran who’d assaulted him to study it at a molecular level. A strange oil coated the limb; in fact, it coated the limbs of most of the hybrids. The oil ate away at the flesh, forcing it to rot within moments of breaking the skin. The hybrids appeared immune for the most part. Marda’s initial surgery seemed to have missed some of the oil within Dr Larrigan’s body and now he was suffering for it.
She looked in on him in his isolation chamber. He looked like a body left to rot in a swamp. Oozing, open sores covered his body. Every breath was an effort, even with the breather units. His lungs couldn’t even process oxygen anymore; a heart pump oxygenated his blood for him. They could do nothing but make him comfortable.
“I’m looking for Dr Vaughnt,” the shrieking voice of their Shinekian captain asked from across the bay.
Marda turned as the insectoid, tri-symmetric Breshig nurse pointed the captain her way. The captain approached and stood at the window beside Marda without a word, looking in on Dr Larrigan. “How much longer does he have?”
Marda shook her head. “Within the cycle. There’s just nothing more we can do for him.”
“I see. What about the rest of these?” she asked, motioning to the rescued prisoners around the room.
“We’re making them comfortable. But they’re almost all deteriorating. We’ve had limited success with removing the grafted limbs, inserted organs, and nearby tissue. But even that isn’t always enough.” She led the captain towards the Lodran who’d assaulted Dr Larrigan. He was little more than a head and torso now, but his skin, while grey to begin with, had begun to take on its usual sheen. “He’s still delirious most of the time and his blood has returned to normal, but he’s starting to suffer from the same tissue necrosis
as Dr Larrigan.”
“Is there nothing more we can do?”
“I don’t think so. He was too far along in the process when he was rescued. We’ve tried everything, even nanobaths don’t help.” Marda led the captain to another bed in a curtained off area. Within a female Otlian lay, misshapen limbs growing from the stumps where her grafted limbs had once been. “Normal tissue regeneration isn’t even working. She’s sedated for the pain, but we’ve had to cut off two arms already because they were so deformed.”
The captain backed away, horrified by the sight. “What of your reports of those who managed to recover?”
Marda hung her head. “I wouldn’t call it that. They were early in the process and we’ve only had two real successes. They’ve opted for cybernetics to replace what they’ve lost.”
“I see. I’ve been reading your reports, as has Command. They feel that given the limited data you have that you’ve done a fantastic job.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“To that end. Dr Larrigan had a request, and I agree with it, as does Command.”
Marda raised an eyebrow, sure of what was to come, and dreading it.
“I have been authorized to transfer you out of your unit to become the permanent head of this medical bay.”
Marda’s hearts sank and jumped in response. It was a significant promotion, but at the moment she was on the team’s inactive reserve list. Making her the head of the bay would take her off the team, and out of the cockpit permanently. She didn’t want to abandon her team, nor did she want to give up flying. “Ma’am. I’m flattered, believe me. But this assignment was supposed to be temporary due to my pregnancy. I’m a Special Operations officer and pilot. This would force me to give those up.”
“We would keep you on the reserve list for both. You will serve as reserve to fly and participate in missions after your maternity leave, but would be out of the regular rotation.”
“Who would replace me?”
Before the captain could answer an alarm went off in Dr Larrigan’s isolation booth. Marda dropped the subject and ran over. Within two nurses in their hazard suits examined him. “What’s his status?”
“Full organ shutdown ma’am. Brainwave patterns all over the place. This might be it.”
Memories of every death she’d ever seen came rushing back as Marda stared at the silent body. An ethereal glow emanated from him and a spirit-form emerged. Relief filled the spirit’s face and Marda met the gaze. Memories of how she’d bound Arion back to his body over a decade earlier came flooding back, but this time she saw no course to do so again. “Go. Claim your reward. You’ve earned it.”
Dr Larrigan’s spirit shook its head and motioned towards the captain. Marda knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t about to leave without getting it. She turned to the captain then looked back at the spirit for a moment. “Sign the order ma’am, but only if I can choose my replacement.” She turned back to the spirit. “Now escape this life. Don’t make me regret this.”
Passageway 3, UCSBS Mercy
The texture of the walls in this section of the ship had always troubled Blazer. He tended to keep to the hangars and the nearby medical bays. There the typical Shinekian wall textures were more subdued, if not eliminated altogether, giving way to the more modular ship interiors he’d grown up with. As he descended into the heart of the ship, where the command crew spent most of their time, he began to understand what life must have been like for Bichard. The increased humidity and darkness hadn’t helped matters, nor had the jet black exoskeletoned Shinekian crew crawling along the organically-textured walls.
“Makes you feel like walking down a blood vessel, doesn’t it?” a voice asked from behind.
Blazer turned and was surprised by the sight. A Drashig female followed close behind, all four of her limbs replaced with sleek metallic cybernetic limbs. They were, unlike most cybernetic limbs, slim with either artificial fat and skin layers, or actual skin grown over a bio-stimulant gel. Her arms looked almost like combat armor, their bulk extending past where her original skin must have ended. That wasn’t all: a control spine emerged from the back of her uniform and ran up the left side of her head. The installation looked crude compared to what he’d seen before, but at the same time looked robust enough to see her onto the battlefield.
He shook off his surprise and smiled, hoping that in the dim light she hadn’t noticed. That was when he realized what the logos on her uniform were - she was a Special Ops Medic and a pilot. He felt his brow furrow and stopped dead in the passageway. “Are you heading to the captain’s office as well?”
She returned a curt nod and motioned down the passageway.
Blazer held up an arm to stop her. “Why?”
She regarded him with a gaze that could melt hulls and huffed out of her nostrils at him. “I’d imagine to receive my new assignment. They finally discharged me and I’m itching to get back into the action; show those Gorvian monsters some payback.”
Recognition washed over Blazer and he stepped back in surprise. “You were up in med bay three!”
“That I was, officer Vaughnt. Excuse me, Lieutenant. Your mate speaks highly of you.”
“Thank you. She didn’t say much about you, but weren’t you one of the hybrids?”
“Those monsters called us Mini-Gorvians, and yes, I was so mutilated.”
“I’m sorry, had I known.”
“Save it. We have a war to fight and it takes much more than an accidental insult to bother me.”
Blazer nodded and continued on to the captain’s office. The silence weighed on him and before he could stop it his mouth ran away from him. “What team were you attached to?”
She was silent for a moment, then just above a whisper, uttered an old Drashig prayer to Ormu Balhet before she answered. “The Death Deniers off the Robial.”
Blazer almost tripped over one of the floor ribs at that. The Death Deniers were one of the top Special Operations rescue teams. They were known in the Special Ops community for being able to pull large numbers of civilians out of hostile environments. The last Blazer had heard was that they’d been caught in the Doblius blockade and assault. He felt like something he‘d scrape off his shoe for even asking. Before he could say anything more to embarrass himself he reached the door to the captain’s office.
The door slid away before he could tap the announcement panel to reveal the captain at her desk along with Marda and Tadeh Qudas. He’d expected something like this to happen eventually; the look on his pregnant wife’s face said that this was more than just a temporary transfer. Blazer walked up to the desk and reported in along with the Drashig woman, Doctor FealGud Vitongnoc.
Blazer took the empty seat next to Marda as Fealgud took the empty seat beside Tadeh Qudas. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room before the captain began. “Lieutenant Vaughnt, I would like to introduce you to your team’s new medic, Medical Officer Vitongnoc.”
Blazer nodded to her then looked back to Marda, his wife averting her eyes. “Ma’am. Is this a temporary transfer or permanent?”
“Permanent,” the captain replied. “Medical Officer Vaughnt will continue to serve your team in a reserve capacity, but has officially been transferred to Medical Bay 3 as the lead doctor. She will finish out her fellowship in emergency medicine there. Additionally, she’ll continue to work towards a treatment for those prisoners the Gorvian have attempted to hybridize.”
Fealgud twitched hard at the mention of the hybrids and almost jumped to her feet. “The Gorvian converted hundreds, if not thousands, from what I was told by the other prisoners. But those that were fully converted... there’s no saving them.” Her response was cold and gruff, almost as mechanical as her new limbs.
Blazer turned to Marda. “Is this really what you want?”
Taking a deep breath Marda met Blazer’s eyes. “Yes actually. I’ve worked with FealGud a lot over the last tridec. I made her a promise to get her back into the fight. She’s qualified in the Firehaw
k and specializes in SEAD. She’s also fascinated with my portable organ cloner and offered some ideas on how to improve it.”
So, she’s qualified, but that still doesn’t mean this is what Marda wants. Blazer looked over at Fealgud, her expression unreadable. “I see, and is this what you want?”
“I want back in the fight. I want a chance to take it to Gondral, and give him some payback for what he had done to me and the others.”
Blazer scratched at his chin. “It’ll be good to have a full squadron again,” he mused and turned back to Marda. He could read the uncertainty in her shoulders. She wanted the new position, but had mixed feelings about leaving the team. Keeping her in a reserve role however should create a happy medium. He still didn’t like bringing in a new member to the team.
Blazer looked back at Marda.
Tadeh Qudas nodded. “Her record is impressive and I know the training she’s undergone. She will be an asset to the team. But let me be blunt; how have you adapted to your cybernetics?”
To her credit Fealgud didn’t flinch and instead of saying anything she reached over to pluck a delicate glass sculpture from the captain’s desk. She passed it between her double thumbed hands and feet before placing it back on the desk without harm. She then picked up a metal cup and with a nod of apology to the captain, crushed it. “That answer your question?”
Armageddon's Pall: Spiral War Book 4 Page 28
