by F. E. Arliss
“His suit should have closed most of the blood flow-off from within,” Lieutenant Rustalov muttered to Captain Sedgewick over their internal comms. “We’ve got to worry about shock more than anything.”
“Won’t the suit have administered sedatives and pain killers?” asked Captain Sedgewick. “I think what we need to worry about more, may be these damn mines. Bergstrom thinks that the one that blew was jury rigged. They’re not supposed to be active yet.”
Ah shit, Katyia thought, an act of sabotage. Just what they needed. “Who is so freaking worried about this platform anyway?” Katyia asked. “What’s so special out here?”
“Don’t know, but someone is,” Chloe stated. “We need to stay sharp and make sure we don’t touch anything while we’re moving the Ensign back to the ship. Hopefully, his suit will keep him alive until we can get him back to med bay. We’re on target to the coordinates, stay frosty,” Captain Sedgewick continued.
“I see them,” Katyia chimed back. “One o’clock ahead,” she confirmed. “Let’s get Collins strapped on this thing and back to the ship.”
The Ensign’s suit was covered in blood, and sealant foam formed ridges and valleys along the entire left side of his body. Assisted by a sobbing, but functioning Ensign Travers from Ordnance, they strapped the immobile man to the stretcher. Then, strapping safety lines onto the stretcher and themselves, they pushed off towards the station. Engaging the jets on their anti-grav boots, they fired gently, and steered toward Bay Three. Katyia could see the locator lights blinking there.
“What the hell!” came the exclamation from the trailing Ensign Travers. “Look!” he yelled. “Look at Bay Two!” Under cover of the distraction from the exploding mine, a small stealth vessel was lodged, close-up under the landing zone on Bay Two.
“Major Bergstrom, we’ve spotted intruders attempting to breach the hull just below Bay Two. Do you copy?” barked Captain Sedgewick into her head gear.
“We copy. On our way,” came back the terse reply. “Stay on mission.”
They were now only a few hundred yards from the Bay Three door, and could see figures behind the side, port panel, awaiting their arrival. A concussive blast rippled the fabric of space just as they were close enough to give the thumbs up to pressurize the landing dock.
The shock wave caught the bulk of the stretcher and tore it loose from their grips. The safety harness caught. Pulling both Ensign Travers and Katyia, hard against the side of the ship. Traver’s head impacted the bulkhead with an alarming thwack that Katyia could hear even inside her helmet. His limp form began a downwards drift towards the mine field, towing the stretcher and her along behind.
“Ah, shit!” cursed Katyia. “Travers is out! Help me catch him, before he hits another one of the fucking mines! They say they’re not active, but let’s not take the chance!”
The form of Captain Sedgewick streaked past her to one side. Gently firing the jets on her anti-grav boots, Chloe let the limp Ensign collide with her. Then, grabbing him under the arms, she swirled her body in space, and applied jets in the opposite direction. “Come on, Katyia. I’ve got Travers. You tow the stretcher. Just apply jets back towards Bay Three. We can untangle the whole mess while we’re depressurizing. Ensign Collins is foamed into that suit like there’s no tomorrow,” the Captain coaxed. Later she’d realize what a poor choice of words that was.
“I’m behind you Captain,” Lieutenant Rustalov, stated calmly. “Applying jets and correcting trajectory.”
A few minutes later they were in the pressure lock watching the panel anxiously for the green ‘go’ button to engage. Katyia could see a medical team standing by. Ensign Collins looked awful. What was visible of his face appeared like candle wax. Ensign Travers wasn’t much better. He was conscious now, but clearly shaken and sweating huge drops that fogged his helmet’s screen.
Just then the door pinged open. Katyia ripped her helmet off, and began shouting to the waiting Corpsmen. “Get his suit off! Ready a saline drip! Type O universal drip! Prep surgery Unit One. Notify the burn team that we will need skin grafts.”
As Lieutenant Rustalov tended to the wounded Ensign, Captain Sedgewick helped Ensign Travers out of his own suit. “Here, drink this,” she said, slapping a sweet tea into his hand. “Good for shock.” Turning to a medic, she ordered, “Check him for concussion,” and strode off.
Sounds of weapons fire reverberated through the bulkhead. Clearly the security team that Major Bergstrom had sent to Bay Two was engaging the stealth ship and their crew. Parasites, thought Captain Sedgewick. They distracted with the mine field explosion then crept in and stuck to the ship like a damn, blood-sucking tick. If she’d thought more about it, she’d have realized that where there was one tick, it was likely there was another. She thundered down the hall towards the sound of laser fire.
Forty-five minutes later, Lieutenant Rustalov reported to Captain Sedgewick and Major Bergstrom in his tiny office. They were making a sweep of the entire ship to see if other vessels had entered during the altercation. Because the platform’s security systems were so old, they were doing it manually. The new upgrades hadn’t been installed yet, as the mine field and laser turrets had been the first priorities. The sweep wouldn’t be complete for another hour or so.
Katyia reported that Ensign Collins hadn’t made it. The burns and explosion had shut down his system before they’d even been able to remove all the foam from his wounds. The suit had done a good job stabilizing him. It was the act of trying to get him into surgery that killed him. A painful irony that Katyia and Dr. Carstairs, the doctor she had worked with, had yet to make peace with.
After reporting the death to her superiors, she was so exhausted she just stumbled back to her quarters, removed her boots, and fell face down onto her bunk fully clothed. There was no sign of Johanna, her roommate. She was asleep in seconds.
Chapter 13
Attack
Katyia woke from her slumber with a tremendous boom resonating in her ears. Claxtons engaged, “All hands to battle stations! All hands to battle stations! Red alert!”
Struggling into her boots she slapped the door open and ran towards the med bay. Guardsmen and Corpsmen tore past her, each in pursuit of their own mission. Before she managed to get to the entrance to the med bay, another huge explosion rocked the structure, throwing her down a side hall. The tilt to the deck warned her that some sort of integral breach was causing the bracing beneath her to buckle.
Righting herself and taking deep breaths, she slowed her thoughts as Vlad and Major Donji had taught her. Keeping herself upright, with one hand braced along the bulkhead, she battled her way back towards the medical unit.
“What the hell happened?” she snapped the question into her comm unit on a frequency to Johanna in engineering.
“They’d placed a small bomb on the outer hull, opposite where the mine explosion was,” Johanna gritted out breathlessly. It was clear she was exerting pressure on some piece of machinery. “It appears they don’t want to destroy the platform, just cause some damage for distraction. There may be more aboard. Be careful!” she exhorted her roommate.
“Major Bergstrom is hopping mad! He’s ordered a full security upgrade and we’re scrambling to seal the hull. Captain Sedgewick is down here in charge of helping us oversee the repairs. It’s a mess! Gotta go!” Johanna gasped, cutting the conversation off.
Injured were already streaming in and her Corpsmen had jumped into the fray with precision. They were executing first aid with all the panache of a seasoned team. Slipping in to her role as medic, Katyia began checking the wounded. Fifteen minutes later, she was commed by Major Bergstrom. “Lieutenant Rustalov, I need medical assistance on the bridge,” he barked. “On my way, sir,” she snapped back. Grabbing her medical kit, she ran down the corridor towards the bridge.
Palming the lift button, Katyia saw that it was ‘Locked’ due to the explosions. Heaving a sigh, she ran down the hall to the emergency ladder. Slinging her kit over her sho
ulder, she started up the rungs. After four flights of tubes, she was ready to tell the Major to put the med bay on a higher level!
Finally, she pushed the door open to the bridge corridor and careened down the hall towards the entry. Just as she had the bridge in sight, a phantom seemed to drop from the ceiling in front of her. Dressed all in black, the figure held a laser gun pointed at her middle.
Skidding to a halt, Katyia said aloud, “Now that doesn’t seem fair! You’ve got a laser weapon. I’ve only got, what,” she ruminated. “Ummm, I’ve got a this.” She said, gesturing to the long blade she’d pulled from the special metal scabbard she’d had built into the calf of her suit.
“Nope, it doesn’t seem fair. Chloe tells me that you’re not supposed to bring a gun to a knife fight.” She wondered if she was a little bit in shock. Captain Sedgewick had told her that when she, herself, went in to shock, she said the weirdest things.
The black figure cocked its head to the side, and regarded her through dark eyes. “I have one of those too,” said the fighter with a faint accent. Putting the laser gun back in to its thigh holster, he pulled a blade from his back.
“Well that does seem a bit more fair,” Katyia stated. “Any rules?” she asked, with a quirk of one brow.
“None,” the dark figure said flatly.
“Ummm, well, ok then, let’s get it done,” she said. There was a snort of laughter from the figure.
“I am a bit taller than you, so I have the advantage,” Katyia baited him with an impassive face. This elicited another snort from the man. It was a man, she could tell. An Asian man if the eyes were anything to go by. They sort of reminded her of someone. But being in a stressful situation, couldn’t place who, at the moment.
“You laughin’ at me walrus turd?’ Katyia asked. Anyone who knew Katyia, knew she hated walrus and that this was a signal that her dander was up.
With that last statement in mind, Katyia took a running step towards the bladesman and began the engagement in earnest. Metal clanged on metal. He was quick, she’d give him that. Actually, he was damned fast. Crap! He was good, this dark figure. Disengaging, she stepped away. Letting her longer legs and taller height remove her from contact.
“So, whatcha after on the station?” she asked him, circling, and trying not get pinned in at the same time. “All this destruction, for what? Just a distraction! So you can find out what?”
“None of your affair,” snapped the assailant.
“So, who were the other guys?” Katia asked, distracting him with another question and change of topic. “You know, the ones in the ship that looked like a hand grenade on steroids.”
The figure ignored her, though she saw one eyebrow rise slightly.
Continuing to circle warily, Katyia add, “Come on! It is my affair, I mean…of course it’s my affair, idiot! You’ve killed one of the Ensigns I just tried to save. You almost killed me against the hull! And now, I’m up to my eyeballs in wounded! I’m here, aren’t I? What’s wrong with you men, anyway? Why do you always think women have no business in space?” Katyia snarled.
The assailant stopped circling for moment. “You are a very odd woman,” he said, cocking his head again. Stepping back, the dark opponent offered, quietly, “The other ship was very primitive.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Been told that a few times a day for like, all of my life,” she snarked and accompanied it with a slight giggle as she heard herself use the ‘valley girl’ slang that Chloe had taught her. “The ‘I’m odd’ part,” I mean,” said Katyia. “As for the ‘primitive’ thing. Yeah, I mean it sort of looked like those doughy dumpling things the Major likes,” she giggled again. “On the other hand, your ships are very sleek. Very high tech,” she stated, sobering up again.
That statement and earlier giggle seemed to further stymie her opponent. In exasperation, he moved forward and engaged her directly. Katyia, promptly countered. This continued a bit until she began to get just a teensy bit tired. He was deuced strong. Like a frickin’ dock hand back home. Small and knotty, but stronger than hell.
“I am sorry about the Ensign. We did not know they’d be out there. The blast was only meant as a diversion,” the bladesman offered.
“Like that makes it any better,” snapped Katyia, skipping forward and thrusting her long blade at his crotch.
Gambling on one of Major Donji’s little tricks, Katyia feinted, twirled, and feinted again. It was an unorthodox move that she’d learned in her months with Hiro. To her surprise, the dark swordsman countered it efficiently and then stepped back, staring at her in surprise.
“Where did you learn that move?” he rasped.
Katyia stared at him in return. “No one ever catches that little trick from the Major,” she replied, with consternation. “How did you know that move? Why do you want to know where I learned it? What’s it to you?” she asked, firing off a series of questions.
“Major who?” he shot back, a sense of urgency in his voice. Something about his intensity made Katyia wary, the hair on her arms rose. She could feel that the atmosphere between them had suddenly changed. The dark figure was distracted, and no longer intent on toying with her, or killing her.
“Major Donji,” she said, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to stall him a bit while she got her wind back. “Who else eats those weird little dumpling things like there was no tomorrow,” she snapped at him.
“About half the population of the world, called ‘Asia’, that’s who,” he snarked back at her sarcastically. “Hiro Donji?” the figure snapped again, tersely.
“Ummm, yeah. Why?”
“Is this base under his command?” drilled the assailant back at her.
“No, but he is one of my commanding officers,” she said simply, lowering her weapon slowly and staring in to his eyes. “You know him, don’t you?” she asked quietly.
The dark figure sketched a small bow her way and whispered, “The other rogue crew were aliens from the next galaxy. Not Arachnians, but Soclaued. Also in pursuit of supplies and a base in this area. Tell Hiro to contact me.” With a slight stirring of air, he was gone. What the hell, she wondered, where did he go?
That guy is like a freaking ninja. Well, so is Hiro Donji, she thought to herself. And, if they know each other…what is up with that, she wondered? He could have killed her, but hadn’t. It was all very strange, she thought.
I feel like I’m made of Jello, she thought, and giggled again. Then, the reality of what could have happened hit her like a ton of frigid fish guts. The cold truth dousing her humor. If the bladesman had wanted her dead, she would be now. She could be dead. Dead.
The bridge doors slid open just then, revealing Major Bergstrom’s bulky mass. “You ok, Lieutenant?” he asked. “That was one hell of a sword fight! Why did he just vanish like that?”
“You were watching and you didn’t help me?” Katyia shrieked at him, her eyes wide. “What were you thinking?”
“Well, I thought you wouldn’t want our help! Didn’t we boys,” he asked, gesturing towards the rest of the bridge crew. “You had it handled, Rustalov! You did great! Didn’t she, guys?” he roared. A chorus of approval rang out behind him.
Katyia narrowed her eyes at him, and ground out from between clenched teeth, “Don’t ever just ‘let me handle’ that guy on my own again. He could counter every move I made as if he knew me. I would have died if he hadn’t chosen to go!”
This was greeted by sober silence. “I’m sorry Lieutenant,” the bear said quietly. “I’m trying to find my way with the Corpsmen, and I’m not sure when you want my help and when you don’t. It’s confusing to try and figure out.” A few, “uh-huhs,” grunted out from the group behind him.
“Figure it out faster, then!” Lieutenant Rustalov shouted at him. She turned and on shaking legs, made towards the medical bay. A second later, she whirled back to Major Bergstrom, “You called for a medic, sir?” she tried to state in a professional tone.
A chastened Major, motioned her in to the bri
dge where a piece of equipment had broken loose and concussed one of the navigators. Head wounds always bled like a son of a bitch, she thought with a sigh. The navigation seat was a mess! Checking the injured man’s stats and calling for stretcher bearers, Katyia accompanied him back to sick bay.
Later, after having seen to her Corpsmen and patients in the unit, she sank on to her bunk, dazed and thinking. Her head hurt, and she was exhausted. What a terrible day this had been She’d almost died twice today.
Katyia wasn’t sure what she ought to do about the bladesman. Hiro would know. She was pretty sure that this weird sensation in her chest was panic.
Aliens! Aliens, for Pete’s sake! Had he been serious? What the hell were Soclaued? Of course, there could be more aliens than Arachnians. Was that why she felt so terrified, or the fact that she could have easily died? All her training could not have saved her from that assailant, or from a rogue explosion. It made her feel weak. Weak and afraid, again!
Contacting the communications center, she requested a private line and opened a channel to Major Donji. “I need your help, sir,” she said with a quaver in her voice. “I need you now,” and for the first time ever, burst out sobbing, cutting the call short.
Chapter 14
The Cavalry Arrives
Major Hiro Donji was in a mood. That’s how his Razorback Guard were describing it. It rarely happened that anything could ruffle the Major’s feather, but something was definitely up. Most of the them were guessing that it had to do with one female Lieutenant Corpsman. But none of them even dared whisper that in their minds eye, let alone aloud.
They all knew that there’d been an attack on the supply platform and word that Lieutenant Rustalov had had an epic battle with a masked swordsman had made the rounds. Somehow, security footage from the bridge, had been leaked covertly and spread like wildfire. They all had to admit, it really had been epic. The Reliever woman was baaaaddd. Or boss, or whatever else you wanted to call her. Either way, the video had put the Major in to a shit storm of a mood.