by Chris Hechtl
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If I was a prisoner, ma'am, I've heard what they do. It isn't pretty. The sick sadistic … ma'am, a clean death by a nuke is preferable,” Thelma said with a shiver. What she didn't say was some dark history in her own past she would rather be left buried.
“Not our call to kill innocents. We'll pass it up the chain,” Captain S'th stated. “Besides, we can't do anything about them now anyway. We're too banged up,” the Naga hissed.
“Yes, ma’am, there is that,” Aengus replied with a nod.
“Ma'am, based on what the prisoners have let slip this pirate den is named Virgin's Holes. It isn't Tortuga. That fits with what Captain Gutt said to us previously,” Loise pointed out.
“Tortuga …,” the captain murmured. “And now this Virgin's Holes? Two pirate dens in the sector?”
“There is always a Tortuga, ma'am. One in every sector apparently. It's a pirate tradition. Their capital in a sector,” Aengus pointed out. “This one might have grown out of need or had been taken over as a convenient port. Most likely it is a place for them to trade as Captain Gutt pointed out, refuel, and plan their misdeeds. They are obviously keeping it secret since it isn't on the maps we had.”
The Naga gave a short human-style nod. “A central command node in Tortuga and now this place. Okay, good work. We need to find Tortuga as well though,” the captain stated.
“And this place?” Thelma asked.
“Don't worry. We'll be back,” the captain growled. The crew nodded grimly. “And we'll bring help.”
“Now you're talking, ma'am,” Thelma said enthusiastically.
Chapter 30
Seven light years and four weeks and two days after they left Asterion IX, the convoy erupted into subspace once more, this time in the star system Tau-1183. The star system had a small mostly waterworld named Lebynthos. The colony had a series of small islands since it was mostly covered in water. According to their intelligence, the planet's small population was heavy into fishing and did limited trade with passing starships.
“Anything, Comm?” Shelby asked, looking over to the comm rating. The Veraxin swiveled an eyestalk to her and then signaled a second-degree negative.
“Yeah, I thought you'd tell me if there was,” Shelby said softly, crossing her arms and rubbing her chin in thought. She wasn't certain if they'd been exposed by the virus or not and when.
“It's a small population. They can't have more than a couple hundred thousand on the planet at best,” Cynthia said, coming up beside her. “Fishing I think they said in the bio,” she said quietly as she turned and leaned against the station console to face the commodore.
“No major continent, they don't do much business with passing ships. They might have the plague but …,” Shelby grimaced. “I don't like it.”
“The other thing is they have only one class II gas giant here, a big one pretty far out and right now away from the main travel paths. The asteroid belt is what I'd call thin,” Cynthia said. After a long moment, she shook her head. “We can always come back sometime, Skipper. We don't have to stop and say hi everywhere,” she murmured.
“Okay. We can bypass this one,” Shelby said, coming to a decision. She nodded once as Cynthia studied her. She dropped her arms and turned to the navigator. “Nav, set course for the Tau-1929 jump point.”
“Aye aye, ma’am. Given it's a water planet I think the people with bulkhead fever will forgive passing it,” Portia replied. “Course plotted and ready to engage,” she said.
“On the ball as usual,” Shelby replied with a nod of approval. “Engage when ready.”
“Aye aye, ma’am. Course is being fed to the helm stations of the fleet now,” the Neopanda stated.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
“They sure aren't talkative to strangers, are they?” Portia said with a shake of her head.
“No, no they aren't,” Lieutenant Jardin grumbled. As a first lieutenant, he outranked the navigator by a single grade so technically it was his watch. She'd just come by the bridge to poke her nose in things he knew and keep an eye on the course she'd set.
“I still don't get the motive on using this plague,” Portia said, turning her seat to face the lieutenant as he sat in the hot seat. “It doesn't affect you humans but …”
“We don't know that. Doctor Taylor said it could jump eventually. Or it could affect them but we didn't see it,” Lieutenant Jardin said, not looking up from the report he was focused on. He scowled as he checked the time. He'd sent out another radio transmission to the planet; this one a warning of the plague and what they knew of how to treat it, which wasn't much.
“I think they did find a way to keep humans clear of it somehow,” Portia said, scratching behind her ear as she sat back and crossed her short legs. “After all, they don't want to infect themselves or the populations they want to control, just 'reduce unwanted elements,'“ she said.
“Reduce she says,” a rating muttered darkly. Both officers glanced over to the female Veraxin, but the Veraxin didn't say anything else.
Portia shrugged after a moment, eyes drifting back to the human in the hot seat. “I'm sorry, it's a euphemism I admit, but one that fits their mindset. It makes it justifiable, less horrifying to them.”
“To them and us. Call it what it is, genocide,” Lieutenant Jardin growled.
“Agreed. We're digressing here,” Portia said.
“I think there might be an added psychological element here,” an elf rating manning Ops said carefully, turning to them.
“Oh?” Portia asked, clearly interested in the discussion.
“Think about it. The humans are immune. So, one, they think they are better or luckier than their neighbors. Two, those infected also see it and become suspicious and or reliant on them. Fear, panic, rage … it could infect the humans with a worse condition. If they were persecuted by those infected, it could make them turn on them. That would spark further conflict.”
“True,” Portia said slowly. “Elegant in a way. Sickening though.” She turned to look at Lieutenant Jardin.
The human pursed his lips in a sour expression. Finally, he grunted and nodded. “Agreed. I don't think they thought this completely through; some populations are reliant on people to do specific trades and jobs. Lacking those people could make a community fall apart. Throw in the fear and what have you and we see an implosion.”
“Thus the Horathians can walk in as saviors with a vaccine for the surviving humans. They can say whatever they want, that they are the god's chosen,” Portia said in disgust. “And people will be desperate enough to believe it.”
“Also true,” the lieutenant said with a grimace, but his expression stilled as an icon blinked on his station. He tapped at it and then cupped his hand to his ear to signal he was getting something. He listened to the radio transmission, audio only. The signal played out in text and an audio wave file on his number two screen but he didn't need it. The signal was scratchy and weak, as was the sender he surmised.
“I think we're going to find out for certain,” he said very quietly. Portia looked at him as he dropped his hand to the controls on the arm rest to page the captain and senior officers. “We just got a call in from the planet. They've got the plague. There aren't many people left but they are asking for our help,” he said.
There were a few gasps at his bombshell. He turned to Portia. “I think you better plot a course to the planet,” he said. She nodded and turned to her station.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
“What have we got?” Shelby asked, looking from Ensign Slatterly to Lieutenant Jardin.
“I kept hailing the planet. We finally got a response, a desperate one. They were hit by the plague about nine weeks prior,” the lieutenant said. “I can play the recording,” he offered.
“No, please,” Shelby said, putting a hand out. “Just the facts for the moment. What else?” she asked.
“They said two ships came by—one was a Horathian warship, the other the usual f
reighter. They took what they wanted, mostly fuel and fish, then sprayed something in the air over the spaceport when they left.”
“According to what we've been able to determine, the planet's population was smaller than we originally estimated, under a hundred and thirty thousand, ma'am,” Ensign Slatterly said. “About 20 percent of that was on the main island. Most of them are now gone,” she said with a shake of her head.
“The islands dispersal and mostly self-sufficient status has allowed them to keep the virus from spreading, but it is airborne, ma'am,” Doctor Taylor interjected. All eyes turned to him. “Eventually the prevailing winds will get it across the globe,” he warned.
“Okay. They asked for help?” she asked, turning to Lieutenant Jardin. The lieutenant nodded and pressed a button on his tablet.
“ …Please, if you can help us, please. We can't stop this. It's spreading across the planet. Thousands have died … more …,” his finger flicked again and cut the transmission off.
“Okay, we've got our go orders. Course?” she asked, turning to Portia.
“Course plotted and continuously updated, ma'am. We're ready to go.”
“Make it so,” Shelby ordered. “I'll let the other captains know we're stopping here.”
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
“In fact, I think we can disperse some of our force to start gathering resources. We can get permission when the hospital ship and the rest of the fleet make orbit,” Shelby said.
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
“Brief Mister Muggs and the others. We'll need him to get up to speed on the players,” Shelby ordered, looking at the spook and then Lieutenant Jardin. “We've got our work cut out for ourselves folks, its past time we proved our worth,” she said as she rose from her chair.
“Aye aye, ma’am,” the others said as they rose as well.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
“Nine weeks. If we'd been here just a little sooner …,” Janice said.
“I know. We can't think about that. And no, you can't go after them. We know it was a pair of ships, not a trio. The locals could be wrong about that, but I'm not sure.”
“That is odd,” Captain Zeb replied.
“I know. It bothers me; according to CIC, there were just the two ion trails here. There were three previously though; they went to Mykonos. This pair came from there and then went to the Tau-1929 jump point. We picked up the ion trail on the way to the inner system once we changed course,” Shelby stated.
“What can we do, ma'am? Those of us in warships …,” Janice shook her head.
“Get your medical people ready to shuttle over to Mahoney. They can take shifts.”
“What about exposure to the crew?” Captain Kaluha asked.
“We will quarantine them once aboard. Humans do not seem to be effected, but they could be carriers. Once we confirm they are not, humans will be able to come and go as normal,” Captain V'z'xx stated. “Doctor Gusterson has assured me all of the biohazard protocols are in place.”
“Understood,” Captain Kaluha said. She didn't seem too happy about it.
“Doctor Taylor will be aboard shortly,” Shelby said. “Once he gives the all clear, we'll see what we can do. He believes our nanites and vaccines will protect us, but we won't know for certain until the first patients are up on your ship, Captain V'z'xx,” she said.
“I know. I must admit I have mixed emotions about bringing them on board tomorrow once we make orbit. But the doctors are correct; they can't assess the plague until they see it first hand and can run blood panels on the inflicted. That will take time. We have systems to treat them in the meantime.”
“Understood. Please pass on our hopes and prayers to them, Captain,” Janice said quietly.
“Thank you. I will.”
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Doctor Taylor was despondent as the overwhelmed medics tried to deal with the plague ravaging the population of the planet. Shelby came over to ME Mahoney to consult with him since he was too busy to answer her calls. She understood and didn't hold his inattention to her against him. Just as she found him, they both stopped to watch a Tauren act like he was drunk. The medics had asked for and received permission to bring a sample population up to the ship to observe, diagnose, and attempt to treat with the systems on board the small hospital ship.
From what Shelby had heard from Mahoney's captain, the medics weren't having much luck, which was why she had come over.
“They aren't really drunk, are they?” Shelby asked, observing the patient from a safe distance.
Doctor Taylor shook his head. “No, Commodore. It's a prion. The closest Terran disease is mad cow disease. It destroys the cell membranes in the brain of the subject. At least that is what it does for Taurens. The other species … there is brain swelling …”
They watched as the orderly got the Tauren under control with difficulty. The Tauren finally settled down with a snort and swayed on the bed. His limbs twitched. Snot and drool dribbled out of his nostrils and out of one corner of his mouth. There was a bit of foam on his lips as well. “Even if we can cure them, there will still be brain damage. They are overheating, and there is brain swelling. They don't sweat like we do …,” the doctor murmured.
“Damn. One thing at a time, Doc,” Shelby murmured. She had noted it was on the cool side in the room. Now she understood why.
“They need more than what we can provide; we're just a small ship, a small team,” the doctor waved helplessly to the bays of ill people and then to the nearby video screen displaying a live image of the row upon row of sick and dying people in the warehouses on the spaceport. “I can't begin to help with that!”
“But you are making a difference,” Shelby said.
“For what?” the doctor demanded.
“One life at a time, Doctor. Work on methods to treat, train others, and then do your best. That is all any of us can do. I feel helpless, I'm not a doctor. I can just imagine how you are feeling. I can offer material support and sympathy but …,” she waved a hand.
The doctor heaved a heavy sigh, looking down. “I know.”
There was a long silent pause. Shelby felt for the man. She also felt helpless too. At least he had the skills to help.
“I just graduated. I just got through …,” a female nurse whispered. The doctor and commodore turned to the woman as she placed a hand over her mouth and turned away, fighting sobs.
Doctor Taylor patted her on the shoulder and then guided her away from the patients.
Shelby grimaced when he came back. “You see? We're overwhelmed.”
“Doc, that's more than any of the native medics can say. Those that have survived. You are all they've got. I know it's a lot to take on, but it's the truth. Do your best,” she said, squeezing the medic's shoulder in sympathy. “At least you've got access to our diagnostic tools and medical replicators as well as our database. They have what layman's knowledge was passed down plus whatever they had written down somewhere,” she said. He grimaced but then nodded.
“Remember, everyone is looking to you for guidance and leadership. Do your best,” Shelby said as she left the compartment.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Doctor Gusterson saw the commodore come by, but she didn't have much to help with so he went back to treating the Neodog on the bed before him. The dog thrashed in his restraints, foam and drool dribbling out of his mouth as he panted. His eyes were bloodshot and rolling as the medic applied additional ice packs.
He heard the alarm from a nearby bed and looked up sharply. Nurses rushed to the scene. “I've got to go. Try to relax. Try to rest,” he implored as he pulled his gloves off and then tossed them into the biohazard bin and then snagged a fresh pair outside the bay on his way to the next bay.
When he got there, the nurses just shook their heads. He looked at the screen and noted all the vital signs were flatlined. “The patient requested a do not resuscitate,” the head nurse said.
“Damn it,” the Neogreyhound snarled. He s
tared at the lifeless cat and then heaved a sigh. “Clear the bay. Have the body moved to the morgue. We'll need to do an autopsy when we have time. We need to find out what is causing this,” he growled.
“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said as she motioned to an orderly. When the orderly didn't stop what he was doing, she sent him a text over their implants. That got the Veraxin's attention. He looked up and then over to her. She motioned for him to come over. “Got another one,” she said as the Veraxin came over to the bay. “Get a body bag. We'll need to move him quickly; we've got another patient waiting,” she ordered.
Doctor Gusterson grimaced but then went back to work. His duty was to the living.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Shelby met with Cynthia and some of her senior staff. “I'm worried about our medics,” she said immediately.
“That bad, ma'am? I know they are stressed but …,” Lieutenant L'n'v'll asked.
“Worse,” Shelby said with a grimace. “When this is over, they are going to need counseling. The despair, sorrow … it is palatable.”
“I feel so damn helpless too. And we can't do squat!” Lieutenant Fixer said, waggling her antenna and mandibles in agitation.
“I know. This isn't a problem we can throw material and equipment at and hope it goes away in time. This is a real here and now problem. One that is escalating with time,” Shelby said, shaking her head. “Sorry, Fixer, it is what it is.”
“I know, ma'am,” the Spacebee replied. “We'll go and do whatever you need,” she said.
“I … don't know what to do,” Lieutenant Talon said, hanging his head.
“We look up what we can do. Doctor Taylor has laid out the steps in previous encounters with this. Quarantine is the top one on the list, both for the planet and for the affected populations on the planet. A rigid one if it has to be that. We'll get food and supplies down to those who need it. Doc knows the steps involved.”
“He needs sleep. They all do. They aren't any good to anyone if they are punch drunk or pass out. They'll blame themselves even more when they start making stupid mistakes and realize it,” Cynthia said with a shake of her head.