by C M Dancha
The Earthling was having difficulty getting off the cot. Morg gave him a push in the back and watched him fall to the floor. He then dove under the cot from the opposite side and grabbed the Earthling. As he pulled the Earthling under the cot the first vap pistol rounds exploded. One of the female Athlon mercenaries fell to the floor with a vap hole through her head. Luna’s description of the female mercenaries was right. They were butt ugly and smelled terrible.
Another body fell to the floor on the kid’s side of the cot. Morg had no idea who this Earthling was.
The battle escalated. Vap and laser rounds flew in every direction. Most of the patients in the recovery ward were too sick to care about the death and destruction taking place close by. The healthier ones hobbled or crawled to the nearest exit. Every so often, someone cried out in pain. It was easy for Morg to distinguish the mortally wounded from the injured who would recover.
Morg looked out from under the cot. On every side, he could only see for twenty to thirty-feet before his vision was blocked by overturned fixtures, cots, and bodies. None of the combatants were observable. Based on the ricochet echoes from the vap rounds, Morg estimated that each combatant was concealed at least fifty feet from his location.
Nothing good was going to come from this battle. The longer they stayed in the middle, the more chance they would be casualties. Morg grabbed the dead Athlon’s vap pistol and crawled out from under the cot. He scurried like a crab across the floor dragging the Earthling. He was surprised they weren’t peppered with pistol fire. It could only mean the combatants were too busy shooting at each other to notice the Yandan and near-lifeless Earthling.
Morg was within ten feet of the exit door when he was hit in the left shoulder by a pistol round. He rolled to his right side and put a round between the eyes of his attacker. The Athlon enforcer fell face-forward to the floor. A “what-the-hell-just-happened” expression was still on his face after bouncing off the floor.
Morg ignored the wound and pain and scurried toward the door. Getting to safety, outside the perimeter of battle, was more important than doing a field dressing on his shoulder. Five feet later he cleared the recovery ward exit doors and ducked behind a wall with the Earthling. Three or four rounds sliced through the door closest to him. As the door swung back and forth, Morg took a quick peek into the ward to see who fired the rounds. Whoever it was ducked behind an obstruction. He knew approximately where the assassin was in the ward but couldn’t see him or her.
The hole in his shoulder was one inch in diameter. It wasn’t a direct hit going completely through the shoulder. It entered slightly above the armpit, at an acute angle, and exited at the top of his shoulder. Morg moved his arm to assess the damage. He could only lift it to a ninety-degree angle. During his career as an Invasion Trooper, he’d suffered several more serious wounds, but this one ranked high as most debilitating.
Time was in short supply. He had to get himself and the Earthling off Alpha 30. Morg grabbed a linen off a floatation gurney and ripped it into a couple five- by eight-inch strips. He took one of the strips and jammed each end into the entry and exit points of his wound. This would slow down the loss of body fluids until the wounds could be surgically cauterized and closed. He tied the remaining strip around his wrist for later use.
Putting the floatation gurney linen into his exposed wounds was a huge risk. It was probably swarming with infectious bacteria and viruses. But, in the middle of a fire-fight, he couldn’t be picky. His first priority was getting to the transporter and blasting off. If the Trifect’s Landan agent was truthful, there were medical supplies in the transport’s cargo bay. He could patch himself up the best he could and then wait for the kid to get better and finish the job.
Morg picked up the kid and tossed him onto the empty floatation gurney. It would be a lot easier pushing the kid through the hallways to the departure dock than carrying him. He laid the vap pistol next to the kid and trotted away. He wanted to run but his gnarled feet with spurs on each heel limited him to a fast trot.
Morg pushed the gurney as hard as his sickly body allowed. He could see that the hallway ended at a “T” approximately fifty yards ahead. He didn’t have a clue which way led to the docking bay. He decided to take whichever hallway had the most floatation gurneys in it. With all the new arrivals landing on Alpha 30, the hallway flooded with gurneys should be the one coming from the docking bay.
He rounded the corner at the “T” just ahead of two laser rounds shattering the wall. Bits of the hallway rained down on everyone within thirty feet. He didn’t need to look back at the damage caused by the laser rounds. One second slower and he would have been splattered over everyone in the hallway.
The new hallway was jammed with gurneys, doctors, assistants and the sick. Most of them heard the laser rounds but were confused about what was happening. They were frozen in place blocking Morg’s path.
“Get out of the way. Take cover. Move. Take cover. Get out of the way, dammit.”
None of the beings moved. They stared at Morg like he was a carnival freak. Unless he could get them to move, he and the kid were headed for an intense firefight with whoever was chasing them. In an act of desperation, Morg took his vap pistol and fired several rounds down the hall, slightly above head level. That’s all it took. Every being in the hallway scattered. They disappeared into adjacent rooms or tried to make themselves invisible by hiding under gurneys and behind each other. Morg did a double-take and smiled at a being hiding behind the gurney linen he held up.
Morg took off again winding his way through the remaining clutter in the hallway. Every forty to fifty yards he fired a few more bursts from the pistol. He found it ironic how the sound of a vap pistol could get the sickest beings to find enough energy to flee in fear.
Morg almost missed the entrance door to the docking bay. At the last second, he saw the ships lined up through the door window. He did a U-turn with the gurney and burst onto the docking bay platform. Less than three ships ahead were two hospital security officers. Their job was to provide security and safety to incoming patients and hospital staff. A good amount of their time was spent preventing theft from the ships and patients.
Morg could tell from the expressions on their faces that they were looking for something or someone. He guessed they received word about pistol-wielding maniacs heading toward the docking bay. He needed to get by them as fast as possible and find the transport. He vaguely remembered that the transport was on the other end of the docking bay.
He tucked the vap pistol under the Earthling and pushed the gurney up to the security officers. Sobbing and acting like a frightened child, he pleaded with the officers. “Please help me and my friend. There are crazy beings shooting laser guns in the hallway. They are right behind me. They’ll be here any minute. Please stop them. They are killing everyone in sight. They’re out of their minds.”
Morg’s acting had the desired effect. “Move along Yandan. We’ll take care of this.” The officers unharnessed their weapons and proceeded to the entrance door.
Morg didn’t wait to see what happened. He dashed off, pushing his way through the mob of beings on the dock. When he couldn’t move the gurney any further, he hoisted the Earthling onto his shoulder and forced his way through the crowd. Within two minutes, weapon fire erupted at the end of the docking bay he came from. He wanted to believe the security officers either killed or stopped the aggressor, but his gut knew better. Officers working on medical depots rarely had military and combat experience. They were outmatched by the aggressor gunning for Morg and the kid.
He could see the transport tethered by a harness beam in its stall. All he needed was another two to three minutes to get safely aboard. With the Earthling on his shoulder, Morg ran up to the transport and yelled out the voice recognition entrance code. “Officer Morg-Operation Earth”.
As Morg waited for the ramp to open, he scanned the docking bay. The weapon fire had stopped at the far end of the bay. The pursuer had made short o
rder of the security officers. Although he couldn’t see the enemy hunter heading his way, he could feel him closing in.
“Earthling, can you hear me?”
A weak, “yeah” drifted down to Morg.
“Listen. If anything happens to me, there’s epidemic medicine and supplies in the cargo bay. Got it?”
Morg didn’t know if the kid responded or not. He was too busy scurrying up the boarding ramp. The clackety-clack noise he made on the metallic ramp could have easily drowned out the kid’s response. By the top of the ramp, he was winded from carrying the kid and had little energy left.
He gave the closing voice command and started to lower the kid to the floor. He needed to get to the bridge and prepare for take-off. The kid could stay where Morg dropped him until they were outside of Alpha 30’s space boundary.
Morg took one step toward the bridge and was hit in the back by a laser round. It sent him flying head over heels. He came down hard on his face. The last thing he remembered was hearing the ramp door close with a thud.
30
“Can’t I spend one evening with my mate without interruption by some type of universe emergency? Why is it these can’t-wait emergencies never happen during the normal working day?”
“We’re sorry, Lead Trifect. You instructed us to inform you about every important new incident.”
The Lead Trifect fell into the primary chair at the Trifect conference table. So far, it was a terrible night. He wanted to spend a quiet evening at home but ended up arguing with his mate. He couldn’t even remember what the dispute was about. Getting called to the palace by his underlings was the lesser of two evils. However, he wouldn’t admit this to them.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, you’re right. So, what’s so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“There’s been a deadly firefight at the Alpha 30 medical depot. It involved Officer Morg and the Earthling.”
“Are they still alive?”
“We’re not sure, Lead Trifect. The ship they arrived in blasted off around the same time as the firefight. The authorities on Alpha 30 are trying to identify the dead and account for anyone missing. It’s going to take a while because they are stretched to the limit taking care of epidemic patients. The number of sick arriving at the depot hasn’t let up yet.”
The Lead Trifect began to analyze this latest information. He predicted a kidnapping attempt of the Earthling but never thought it would erupt into a firefight. He looked across the table at the other two Trifect. He could tell by the expressions on their faces they were withholding more bad information.
“Is that it?”
His underlings hemmed and hawed. “Well, there’s a couple more things, Lead Trifect.”
“Out with it. I haven’t got all night.”
“Our Landan agent on Alpha 30 was assassinated. She was found in a utility closet with a vap hole in her head.”
The loss of one agent wasn’t going to upset the balance of power in the universe, but in this case, it was significant. The agent’s death told the Lead Trifect the assassin was most likely a professional. He was a sly and shrewd killer. He saw through the Landan’s doctor disguise and probably saw her put the recording button in Morg’s ear. It was also reasonable to assume the assassin followed the Landan agent and watched her load supplies onto Morg’s ship. God forbid, he got the ramp entrance code out of her before putting a vap hole in her head.
“That’s very bad news. Don’t ask me to explain. It’s too late. I’ll explain some other time. What else have you got?”
One of his underlings was about to answer when the Lead Trifect interrupted. “What direction did the Morg and Earthling ship head when it left Alpha 30?”
“To Earth at normal shadow-drive speed.”
The Lead Trifect put his head face down on the table. He wanted to sleep and tune out the rest of this conversation. The last thing he wanted to hear was that Morg’s ship was heading to Earth. Morg was under direct orders to avoid an Earth flight pattern until instructed to do so. Morg would never ignore Trifect orders, so someone else must be in command of the ship. That left only three possibilities. He was either dead, comatose or under restraint by a captor. Of course, this assumed he was on the ship.
“I’m afraid to ask. Is there anything else?”
This time the underlings were very hesitant to answer. They spent a half-hour before the Lead Trifect got to the palace trying to figure out how to explain this next bit of information.
“Ah, ah, this doesn’t have anything to do with Alpha 30, Lead Trifect. This concerns something else we haven’t talked about for a few days. We didn’t know anything about this, so please don’t ….”
“If you don’t spit it out now, I’m going to throttle both of you. Now, knock off the crap.”
“The Shooting Star 38 has a destiny explosion device on it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the Shooting Star is linked to its assigned pilot by genetics. If the assigned pilot doesn’t sit in the captain’s gyro chair once every five days, the 38 self-destructs.”
“Whose idea was that?”
“We've been told it was the idea of one of our physicists. He thought the ship needed an extra level of protection from espionage because of its new and sensitive technology. That’s why he put a destiny explosive on it.”
“Interesting. Let me see if I have this right. Commander Fritase was the assigned pilot for the Shooting Star. The Commander is dead, so he won’t be sitting in the captain’s gyro chair. So, in a couple of days, the Shooting Star will self-destruct, wherever the hell it is. Of course, we don’t know, because we lost it. Is that an adequate description of the Shooting Star situation?”
“Well, there is one other thing. If we find the Shooting Star within the five-day limit, the destiny explosive can be overridden from Yanda.”
The Lead Trifect broke into a smile which was rare for a Yandan. The smile led to a laugh which led to a deep belly laugh. The underlings didn’t understand what was going on. Laughing was almost unheard of for a Yandan. All the underlings could think of was that the Lead Trifect was very mad and the laughing was a cover-up.
It took the Lead Trifect a couple minutes to stop laughing and wipe the secretions from his sensory gills.
“Gentlemen, that’s the best news I’ve heard tonight. Again, don’t ask me to explain. I’m going home to get some rest.”
The Lead Trifect’s mood improved considerably since arriving at the palace. The underlings had no idea why but felt good about a meeting ending with laughter. Most meetings ended with the underlings cursed and crawling off like whipped dogs.
The Lead Trifect got up from the table and headed for the door. At the last second, he turned around and said, “Get ahold of the Alpha 30 director. Tell him he’s got three hours to provide a list of the dead and missing. Also, I want to know exactly who was on the ship that took off. I’m sure there are video recorders on their docking bay. I don’t give a shit about the epidemic patients. Getting my information is more important. If he values his budget for next year, he’ll do precisely what I ask and fast.”
31
“Good god, Morg. What did you do to yourself?”
As the Earthling worked on Morg’s wounds, he kept talking to himself. When he ran out of gibberish to say, he whistled tunes from his teenage years. It was the only way he could stay awake. He had at least another hour of surgical repair on the Yandan before bedding down for some much-needed sleep. If he didn’t get the wounds cleaned, cauterized, and filled in with surgical putty before passing out, the Yandan would die.
He needed the Yandan to survive. In fact, he was desperate to make sure Morg pulled through. Without another experienced pilot, he was sure the maniacs who tried to kill them on Alpha 30 would overtake the transport and board it. Any other time auto-pilot was good enough while he and Morg recuperated. But, not this time. Auto-pilot couldn’t evade and destroy pursuing interceptors.
&
nbsp; “Ya know, Morg. You are one large-ass being. It took me over an hour to drag you to sickbay. If it wasn’t for the hydraulic lift, I never would have gotten you onto this cot.”
The kid snipped away Morg’s outer vest and scales around the wound holes. The scales were damaged beyond saving. If he did an adequate job of patching, the scales would grow back.
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got. Ah, two entrance and two exit holes. All are in the trilateral quadrant of the left shoulder. Looks like only one of the lipten conduits was hit. That conduit needs to be fused back together, which I’ll do right now.”
The Earthling lowered a magnifier over the wound, so he could get a better view of the conduit damage. “Okay, I’ll fuse here and a little bit over here. Looks like the seepage is slowing down. Ah yes, here’s another big perforation. I’ll fuse that, once, twice, and a third time. And, that should do it. No more loss of lipten. One problem taken care of.”
The Earthling leaned back and admired his work. He had never done surgery like this. He had read about Yandan anatomy and the use of fusegranators. With that knowledge and a genius IQ, it was only a matter of fusing body parts back together. It wasn’t much different from the construction set he played with as a child.
He went on talking as he worked on the Yandan. “It’s a damn good thing you’re passed out Morg. With this much probing and cleansing of your wounds, you’d be screaming for mercy if you were awake. Even with heavy doses of painkiller you would be howling. I don’t care how much of a badass Invasion Trooper you are. This would hurt like hell. Don’t wake up, buddy, if you know what’s good for you.”
The Earthling rotated his head and arched his back to prevent getting cramps. “Okay, let’s take a look. Everything is cleaned out pretty good. I don’t see any other conduit or organ damage. Crap, there’s a torn tension ligament. Well, I knew this was going too smooth. I’ll put this growth patch between the two ends of the ligament. Over time it will grow back together good as new. There we go. Now, I can start the sterilization and then close up everything.”