“Did it work?” Billy asked and found that his voice was no more than a shallow croak.
For a moment, the Medical Officers ceased their conference to look concernedly at their patient as a kindly-faced Medical Technician smiled and leaned in close to Billy.
“What was that, First Admiral?” she asked softly, pulling up the pale blue cover to his waist, and turning her head to place her ear close to his mouth.
“Did Earth survive?” Billy croaked the question he desperately needed answered.
“Yes, First Admiral,” the Technician smiled, “now you must rest, sir,” she added and carefully helped him to recline once more.
Lying on his back, Billy felt breathless and uncomfortable and tried to prop himself up on his elbows again.
“No, First Admiral” the Technician placed her olive Thexxian hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back, “you must not agitate yourself.”
“Can’t breathe lying down,” Billy croaked as he tried to resist her shove.
“He says he can’t breathe, sir,” the Technician called out to the Medical Officers, who quickly gathered around the Med-Bed.
“It might be scarring on his lungs or windpipe,” one of the Junior Medical Officers commented as if Billy were on another planet.
“Keep his shoulders elevated,” the Senior Medical Officer instructed.
A moment later, Billy felt his upper body being pushed upwards as the force-shielding on the Med-Bed’s horizontal surface was adjusted to raise his head and shoulders up to a more comfortable position.
“Lokkrien,” Billy croaked softly.
“He wants Admiral Lokkrien,” the Senior Medical Officer said, “bring him in and commence the intensive phoronic radiation treatment.”
The gaggle of Medical Officers quickly scattered to their duties as the kindly-faced Technician reappeared with what looked like a breakfast tray with two large hollow tubes at either side.
“We’ll do your hands first, sir,” the Technician smiled and clipped the breakfast tray contraption to the edges of the Med-Bed across Billy’s stomach.
As Billy watched the breakfast tray contraption being attached, Lokkrien appeared at the foot of the Med-Bed.
“Welcome back to the land of the living sir; we thought we’d lost you for a moment there,” Lokkrien tried to sound cheerful as he struggled to ignore the burns on Billy’s face.
“You don’t get rid of me that easily, Marrhus,” Billy croaked as he tried to smile.
“We’ll just put your hand in the treatment bay,” the Medical Technician indicated to Billy’s right hand.
“What’s the situation then?” Billy asked, his throat starting to ease, as he nodded to the kindly Technician, who gently lifted his burned right hand and carefully slotted it into the hollow on the treatment device.
“Well, we, I mean you, saved the Earth from the solar flare,” Lokkrien tried to sound positive, “but the Bardomil have pushed Admiral Chulling back to Valnarim in the Praxos system,” he added the sting-in-the-tail as he stepped aside for the Technician.
“Just lifting your left hand now, sir,” the Technician announced and began to slide the hand into the treatment bay.
“Is Chulling holding?” Billy asked.
“He’s hanging on in there, sir,” Lokkrien replied, “but, it’s a tough fight, they’ve had to give ground and they’ve lost the Ticonderoga.”
“What do you mean, ‘lost’ the Ticonderoga?” Billy queried unable to grasp the concept that a force-shielded ship could be destroyed.
“Her proto-star Containment Chamber was compromised,” Lokkrien explained.
“Dear God,” Billy mumbled as the enormity of the loss struck him.
“Switching on,” the Technician announced and pressed a button on the left treatment bay.
A moment later, the breakfast tray contraption began to hum softly as Billy felt the gentle soothing waves of phoronic radiation stimulate his own healing processes. At first a gentle itch subsided into a sensation not unlike bathing his hands in tepid water.
“Then we have to get to Chulling with everything we can manage,” Billy’s voice began to clear.
“Well, what we have sir, is three of the five Star-Destroyers badly damaged and unable to move under their own power and the other two with major structural problems,” Lokkrien replied.
“Can they initiate Trion Drives?” Billy asked.
“There we go, all finished on the hands,” the Medical Technician said brightly and pulled the breakfast tray contraption away from Billy’s hands.
Lifting his hands, Billy could still see the outline of the burns beneath the pink newly healing skin that the radiation had stimulated to grow over the injuries. The damaged nerve tissue would be starting to regenerate within a few minutes and Billy knew that he would have to get the Personal Environment Suit back on to ward off the intense pain that would entail.
“It’ll be touch and go if they try to enter the Trionic Web,” Lokkrien warned.
“Well, I’m not leaving Chulling to hang out to dry,” Billy said determinedly, “round up every Eagle and pilot you can scrape together and cram them into the two functional Star-Destroyers,” Billy ordered.
“Your face now, sir,” the Technician held up a transparent mask in the shape of a human face attached to several spindly leads, “close your eyes now, sir,” she added.
“It’s still a terrible risk,” Lokkrien warned once more, “if they’re not up to scratch, the Trionic Web will tear them apart.”
“Now keep very still, sir,” the Medical Technician instructed as she gently placed the mask on Billy’s face.
“What choice…” Billy began to answer when he was interrupted by the Medical Technician.
“I mean completely still, sir,” the Technician said firmly immediately silencing Billy, “switching on,” she intoned and the machine began to hum softly again.
Again, Billy felt the gentle itch on his skin rapidly transform to the tepid bathing sensation.
“I used to know a Drill Instructor like that at the Bardan Military Academy,” Lokkrien smiled at Billy, “and he wasn’t half as tough as this one.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, I…” the flustered Technician began to apologise.
“Technician,” Lokkrien smiled, “you’re doing a fine job; just remind me to call for you should I ever need to tell the First Admiral to shut up, will you?” he joked.
Unable to move, Billy stifled a laugh as the waves of healing radiation swept over his face.
“There we go, sir,” the Technician said shame-facedly as she removed the mask from Billy’s face.
“How do I look?” Billy asked nervously.
“As pink as a boiled Terran lobster,” Lokkrien answered honestly, “with blotches.”
“Oh great,” Billy said imagining his face in the same sad condition as his hands, “just what I needed.”
“So, we still go with Titan and Colossus?” Lokkrien asked hoping that Billy had changed his mind.
“Yes, we don’t have a choice,” Billy said and swung his legs out over the edge of the Med-Bed with a pained groan, “and, make sure the civilians get back to Earth all right.”
“First Admiral, I must protest!” the Senior Medical Officer stepped forward anxiously.
“Good,” Billy sighed as he sat on the edge of the Med-Bed, “put it in writing and submit it to Admiral Lokkrien,” he winced and pushed himself onto the floor.
Stumbling, Billy quickly regained his balance, and stood shakily on his own two feet as Lokkrien darted forward.
“Steady, old man,” Lokkrien said catching Billy’s shoulder as he stumbled again, “where exactly do you think you’re going?” he added softly.
“If we’re the Cavalry,” Billy replied straightening up, “then I can’t ride to the rescue on a Med-Bed can I?”
“The Cavalry tend to like their leaders living and breathing,” Lokkrien countered.
“Oh, they will be,” Billy answered, “give me that unifor
m,” he indicated the Personal Environment Suit that lay on the ground.
Stooping down quickly, Lokkrien swept the pale blue uniform overall up in his right hand and passed it to Billy who draped it over his shoulder and began to hobble, stiff-legged and pained towards the doorway.
“First Admiral, I…” the Senior Medical Officer protested once more.
Stopping in his painful hobble, Billy held up his left hand to silence the Medical Officer.
“It’s all right, it’ll be my responsibility,” Billy assured the concerned Officer.
And, continued hobbling painfully away.
Chapter 33
The Star-Cruiser Aquarius
On another part of the Hospital Deck, Emma Wallace was feeling great. Lying on a strange bed-like apparatus, that levitated from the ground, in a darkened room, she felt her world spinning and a wonderful euphoric sensation of peace and warmth. Turning onto her side, she pulled up the strange blue cover and with a very broad, satisfied grin closed her eyes. Never, in her entire life, had she felt so good. Not even when she had gotten drunk that night with Tommy Warner had she felt so relaxed and comfortable.
The young Cerador Medical Technician stepped forward and lifted Emma’s arm to check her wrist pulse.
“You look funny,” Emma smiled blankly opening her eyes, and began to hum a childhood nursery rhyme.
The sharp featured Technician, with the hooked nose, nodded his head, satisfied that the relaxant drugs were now taking full effect.
“Here comes a chopper to chop off your head,” Emma giggled loudly as the grey-opaque force-shielding of the doorway cleared to allow access to a familiar figure.
“Sir!” the Cerador Technician snapped to attention, causing Emma to roll over to see what the sudden commotion was about.
“At ease,” Billy waved the Technician to relax as he approached the levitating Med-Bed.
“Hey, sweet cheeks!” Emma called out breezily to the figure that she recognised and reached her hand out to Billy.
“You quite happy down there?” Billy asked smiling softly; stopping himself from taking her hand in his own injured hand.
“Tee-riffic!” Emma announced and tried to focus on Billy’s face, “you got something on your face, kiddo?” she asked with a puzzled look and then began to giggle again.
“Yep, it gets messy around here,” Billy replied suddenly conscious of his damaged face.
“Well, you’re gonna have to clean it up before dinner, or you won’t get any pudding,” Emma giggled as she scolded, wagging her finger.
“I’ll get right on it,” Billy smiled feeling waves of incredible sadness sweep over him.
“Yeah, can’t have you at dinner looking like that,” she smiled and closed her eyes again.
“Sir,” the Technician interrupted, “it’s time,” he indicated the Memory Shredder in his hand.
One of the more unsavoury aspects of the Garmaurians was an ingenious mechanism that interrupted the synaptic flows from the area of the brain that converted short-term memories to long-term. If specifically targeted, the device could also erase the electrical activity in areas of the brain that held certain memories. It was primarily used by Garmaurian Intelligence to erase the memories of their agents in order for them to maintain their cover stories. If they had no memories of a previous life then they could not betray themselves to an enemy interrogator.
“Very well,” Billy nodded to the Technician who stepped forward with a narrow, white strip that he placed upon Emma’s forehead.
“Hey, sunshine, headbands and leg-warmers were last year,” Emma mumbled.
“Step back would you, sir?” the Medical Technician asked, indicating that he was about to operate the device.
Taking a last look at the smiling and deliriously happy face, Billy took a single pace backwards.
“Switching on,” the Technician said softly and pressed a button on a keypad.
Emma gasped as she arched her back and stared wide eyes at the ceiling. Then, a moment later, she slumped back down onto the Med-Bed. In her brain, the electrical charges had been interrupted for a split-second. And, in that split-second, the memories in her short-term memory were blocked from converting to long term memories. In a few minutes they would be forgotten, whilst the targeted areas of her long-term memory were also being electrically stripped.
“How much of her memory did you erase?” Billy asked quietly as the Technician stepped forward to check Emma’s pulse again.
“Around four hours, sir,” the Technician replied, happy that Emma’s circulation had not been compromised, “but it varies from person to person.”
“How do you mean?” Billy asked.
“It depends on the person, sir,” the Technician answered carefully setting down Emma’s arm. “sometimes a four hour erase can remove four hours or it can erase twenty-four hours, it just depends, sir, sometimes it can erase all the memories of a person or a series of related events.”
Nodding slowly, Billy Caudwell had the feeling that Emma Wallace would awake back on Earth and have no memories of the past days. Deep down, he knew that it would probably be for the best. The part of his mind that was Teg Portan knew that unstable relationships and Supreme Military Command did not mix well.
“I’ll leave you for a moment, if you’ll excuse me, sir,” the Technician made discretion the better part of valour and quietly left Billy alone with Emma.
Looking down at the sleeping figure, Billy gently drew the cover up to her neck. To Billy, she looked so lovely and yet so distant and unattainable. And, for just a fraction of a second, he thought about just giving up his quest to preserve his Alliance. But, as he listened to her gently breathing, he knew that the choice between the Universal Alliance and Emma Wallace was one that she could never win. Closing his eyes, he felt tears scalding on the newly stimulated flesh of his cheeks as they ran down to stain the blue Med-bed cover. Then, taking a deep breath, Billy sighed to stifle the sob that he felt building in his chest. In that moment, the bitter-sweet agony that almost choked him, surged into every corner of his mind and body. He wanted to cry out with that pain, but in his mind he knew that he had to walk away, as his face contorted for that brief second before he regained his composure again.
Opening his eyes once again, he smiled and gently cuffed his tears away with his sleeve.
“Go to sleep now,” he said softly and took one last look at Emma before turning away.
Five steps later, he passed through the force-shielding of the door, out into the harsh light of the corridor. Dabbing his tender cheeks once more, Billy took several long deep breaths and then stamped his foot angrily as he gently exhaled. Shaking his head, to try to clear it, Billy set off, his jaw set firm as he marched purposefully down the corridor to the Teleport pad. Around him, people snapped to attention as he passed. However, Billy noticed none of them as he strode onwards, his eyes red and his throat thick with emotion.
Emma would be going home, but Billy was going to a fight.
Chapter 34
The Praxos System
The loss of the Star-Cruiser Ticonderoga hit the morale of Chulling’s flotilla badly. Everyone aboard the Alliance vessels knew, and accepted, that death was a possible outcome for their service in the military. But, the comfortable sense of invincibility that had shrouded the Alliance crews with their force-shielding had now evaporated as they had witnessed the blinding and fiery demise of Ticonderoga. Ticonderoga was the first major warship to be lost in the Alliance and people were now faced with the reality of death in combat. It was hard for many to accept their new and very sudden vulnerability.
Turthus Chulling, having served in the military during the Thexxian Exodus found himself thrown back onto his old reserves of positive mental attitude, tenacity and showmanship. Chulling knew that crews who were demoralised would very quickly be defeated. He knew that he had to inspire his people to more and greater efforts whilst presenting a bullish and positive attitude of self confidence. It was a tough
sell for Chulling. Many of the Officers, Technicians and crew members on the Ticonderoga had been friends, colleagues and comrades and their loss had hit him hard. But, with the flotilla extracted from the frontier, Chulling was planning a surprise for the Bardomil invaders who were rapidly approaching the new position, close to the planet of Valnarim.
With the pink and orange gas giant, Valnarim, anchoring the left wing of his position some half a million kilometres distant, Chulling was happy with his new position. The Eagles had been launched and were holding their pre-planned positions with a small contingent of five Star-Cruisers. The remaining Star-Cruisers and the two Fleet Carriers held their diamond formation in readiness for the Bardomil approach.
In the War Room of the Memphis, Chulling kept his own counsel as the Officers and Technicians went about their duties. Less than an hour previously, the War Room had been buzzing with excitement and confidence. Now, the mood of the War Room personnel was darker and more reserved. Losing the Ticonderoga had stunned many of them into a morose and anxious silence that Chulling knew he had to break. And, the only way to restore that shattered confidence was with victory. With his plans set and the ships in position, he hoped that much needed victory was only a few minutes away.
“Sir,” the Scanner Officer said flatly, “enemy approaching,” he continued with little enthusiasm.
“Very good,” Chulling said determinedly, “let’s have the force-shielding up at maximum and put everyone on standby.”
Stepping over to the War Table, Chulling could see the dejection amongst his staff Officers. Long faces and downcast eyes were a signal to Chulling that his own Staff Officers were already half beaten.
“Right then, gentlemen,” Chulling began bullishly, “it’s time to start handing out some of what we’ve been taking.”
“Sir!” the Scanner Officer announced, “enemy formation in range of video scanners.”
“Very well, let’s have a look at them, activate War Table!” Chulling demanded and the War Room was immediately plunged into darkness.
First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun Page 21