Belinea

by Andrew Mack

  Belinea - Episode 6

  Cataco

  Belinea 6.1

  Burvilla, Serpia 2137 (Twenty years prior...)

  Dr. Fiona Faxon was operating on the table, one victim after another. She was screaming at nurses around her. “Clamp.”

  “Suction, I can’t see the wound.”

  “Hold still. He’s been freezed, start the de-ice procedure.”

  Patient after patient kept rolling in. The battle was intense, and the number of wounded was staggering. They triaged by the severity of injury, but now, almost sixteen hours in, there finally seemed to be a slowdown. She put arms back together, iced patients down so that a later procedure could grow a re-attached leg, and reduced the swelling of brain injuries. Two patients were ‘deep freezed’ on the battlefield and then brought in. It funneled them through a de-icing procedure, which took hours but allowed operation on the brain while minimizing spinal damage. Blood was all over her. She would change, then change again, then change again, and again. It never stopped. It seemed there was no point.

  Soldiers were screaming. Grown men brought to tears at the sight of limbs being amputated. Several nurses vomited on multiple occasions, never entirely processing how much blood was on the floor. The room had four operating tables, and never in those sixteen hours was one not in use, either by Dr. Faxon, her counterpart Dr. Higgins, or the two robot doctors who handled the ‘minor’ surgeries. There were two nurses with each doctor. Dr. Faxon pulled out another piece of shrapnel from one of the soldiers’ shoulder and chest area. She then cleaned and sealed the wound and asked the lead nurse across from her, “Can you please finish up?”

  The lead nurse nodded. Fiona walked away from the patient and out the door. She ripped her gloves and mask off, and proceeded down the hall to the Doctor’s lounge area. She poured herself a glass of water and sat down, taking a small sip as she leaned back. After a very long sigh, she took her scrubs hat off and sprinkled the water over her face. With both hands, she rubbed her eyes and the blood off her cheekbone. Keeping her hands on her face, she took another deep breath and succumbed to her exhaustion.

  As she continued to sit alone, a man in full military uniform entered the room. Fiona did not remove her hands from her face. She no longer cared. The man stood next to her with a warm white towel in his hand. Fiona looked up to see the towel extended toward her. She grabbed it and placed it across her face. It felt clean. The rest of her didn’t. She muttered, “Thank you.”

  The man spoke softly. “Dr. Faxon, it is I who should be thanking you.”

  Keeping the towel on her face, she said, “Why is that?”

  The military man continued. “My people tell me you saved at least eleven soldiers. No Gen’s, all Serpians, not one death. Impressive.”

  Still, with the towel on her face, Fiona muttered, “No medal needed.”

  The military man gave a small smirk. “Some would say the loss of life, while tragic, is the price of victory.”

  Fiona, still with both hands on the towel, gently pulled it down to her chin. She looked up at the man and said, “But that’s not what you say, Commander…..?”

  The man walked a few steps away and then turned around. “Captain Merriam. No, I would not. The moral and ethical debate regarding the Gens becomes muted in a time like this. When so much Serpian blood has been spilled, how could one justify they carry the same importance?”

  Fiona looked up at him and responded, “Serpian, Tiloian, Generated blood. It’s all the same, Captain. No one is more important. All of them die without it.”

  Captain Merriam gave another small smirk and said, “A philosophical difference Dr. Faxon. Nevertheless, thank you. I am here because of another matter. I assume you are aware of the incident in your laboratory?”

  Fiona took a small breath before answering. “If incident is a reference to the murder of my colleague by your soldiers, then yes.”

  Captain Merriam looked down at her and said, “That, I am afraid, is beyond philosophical difference, Dr. Faxon. Given the circumstances we are currently in, you understand our concern regarding your stance on the situation?”

  With a confused expression, Fiona said, “My stance?”

  Captain Merriam continued. “The Doctor had a stance that directly counteracted our mission moving forward. Simply put, he was a threat to our survival.”

  Fiona looked at the Captain for a second, knowing these may be the last words she said. “Like me, he was a scientist first, and a doctor second. The work we did benefited science, no particular race in general.”

  Captain Merriam crossed his arms. “All his work, Doctor?”

  Fiona stood up and got face to face with Captain Merriam. “Our religious beliefs never impede with our work. Which is for the greater good of science, first, and the survival of our species second. How many of your soldiers must I save before you believe me, Captain?”

  The Captain uncrossed his arms but continued to look at Fiona in the eyes. “ A fact that I cannot deny. I do question, were your actions driven by fear, or your loyalty to the cause?”

  Fiona turned around and took a few steps. After a few seconds, she turned around again, half-smiled, and said, “My oath as a Doctor prevents me from having a political agenda, Captain. If you see that differently, then I suppose you are here to deliver me the same fate.”

  The Captain took a long stare at Fiona. He then turned around and poured himself some water, taking a sip. He turned around again and looked directly at the Doctor. “Surely I would do no such thing, especially to a hero who saved so many Serpian soldiers today, Doctor. I feel you misunderstand my motives. We only wish to extract all your material on all the projects you have been working on. Together, with our research and Doctors, we can build solutions that benefit all of us.”

  Fiona gave a small frown. “I assume I have no choice in the matter?”

  The Captain smiled and responded, “You should assume saying no will only disappoint me.”

  There was an awkward silence. After ten seconds, Fiona said, “Captain, I still have patients that need follow-up procedures, so if there is nothing else?”

  The Captain gave another warm smile. “Of course, Doctor. Forgive me. I will be on my way.”

  The Captain walked out of the room. Fiona sat back down, now noticing the small red light blinking on her wristwatch. She tapped it and read the short message. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to process the devastating news. She began to sob.

  Overcome with grief, her eyes flooded with tears for a minutre. As she began to breathe normally, she walked over to her locker and opened it. She ripped her shirt off, wearing only a necklace holding a ring with a glowing grey stone. Fiona put on a clean sweater and slammed her locker shut. Storming out of the room, she briskly walked down the hall and took two flights of stairs up towards the aircraft landing pads. As Fiona climbed into her personal TC, she hit some buttons and fired up the engines. The computer on the screen asked, “Destination, please?”

  Fiona looked at her wristwatch and then began typing in coordinates onto the computer. The Computer acknowledged, “Coordinates accepted. Expected flight time: Twenty-six minutes.”

  The TC took off, all four rotor blades directing it up to the sky. It was morning, the sun not quite peering over the treeline yet. But the sheer number of explosions, fires, and overall devastation had left the entire sky in a cloudy haze with little visibility. Fiona continued to cry, wiping the tears away with her arm. No more rockets or missiles were flying overhead. The fighting had stopped, the battle had been won, if there was such a thing. As the TC flew above the trees, she could look outside her window and see its shadow in the branches. But as she got closer to the front, there were fewer trees and more areas of flattened devastation from where the bombs went off.

  She continued for another twenty minutes. Through the haze, she finally reached an a
rea that was still smoldering with spot fires. The hole in the surface was massive. Over ten kilometers wide, it looked as if a giant meteor had fallen from the sky and hit the surface. The hole was easily forty meters deep. A few soldiers had red flares and shined them in the direction of her TC. Fiona saw them and hit a few spots on her control panel. She descended towards the surface and landed directly next to the soldiers. The door opened, and one of the soldiers yelled, “This is a restricted area. You cannot go in there!”

  Fiona showed her ID bracelet and yelled back, “I am Doctor Fiona Faxon. I was ordered up here to help evac soldiers and prep them for surgery.”

  The soldier looked at the ID bracelet and then took his tablet out and presented it to Fiona. She put her palm on it, and it scanned her handprint. A light turned green and verified who she said she was. The soldier looked at her again and said, “Sorry, Doctor. We did not get those orders. We have not pulled out anyone alive in several hours, so I am afraid there is very little that can be saved.”

  Fiona yelled back through the noise, “I understand. I assume you have teams up there searching through the rubble?”

  The soldier nodded in acknowledgment and yelled, “Gens.”

  Fiona continued, “Then I will get up there and see if I can offer any assistance.”

  The soldier yelled back, “Proceed with caution, Doctor. We still have flare-ups and all the fires are not out. Hostiles are gone, and the area is secure, but it is still a hot zone.”

  Fiona nodded and closed the door. The TC took off again, this time heading in closer to the gigantic hole in the ground. Never getting more than fifteen feet off the ground, she flew another eight kilometers to the backside of the hole. As it was landing, the four-rotor blades put the TC in a light hover and gently touched the ground. The computer said, “Arrived at destination.”

  The door opened, and Fiona got out, carrying a small bag over her shoulder. She stood for a few seconds, as the smoke was overwhelming. Still wiping the tears from her face, she looked around, not knowing where to start. After coughing a few times, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and put her hand over her chest. After a few seconds, the glow from her ring underneath her shirt got brighter. The light from it protruded through her shirt, and she could suddenly feel where to go.

  Fiona began to walk, one small step at a time. There was no direction to go, no path to follow. Slowly, step by step, she walked and cried. The smoke was everywhere. In the distance, she could still see Gen soldiers walking through the rubble, searching for any sign of life. The ground was black and made up mostly of charred metal and debris. No one could have survived this. Anyone that was here died, likely in a ball of fire that burned them to a crisp. For some, it was instant. For most, it was a long ride down, in flames, until they crashed to the surface.

  Fiona continued to walk. She would pause to readjust herself. She grabbed her ring inside her shirt again. She continued, stumbling through the black debris. In tears, she finally stopped. The ring was glowing as bright as she had ever seen it. Fiona got on her knees and searched everywhere. She ran her hand through the debris and noticed much of it was still hot. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a pair of gloves and put them on.

  She continued to search, as she ran her hands through the hot debris. Nothing. She turned ninety degrees and repeated. Nothing. She turned another ninety degrees and did the same. Nothing. She took her gloves off and looked into the sky with her eyes closed. Fiona put both of her hands on the ring inside her chest. She took a deep breath, tears coming down her cheek from her shut eyes. The ring glowed again. She turned forty-five degrees to her left and extended her hands out. She began digging.

  Through the hot black debris, her hands were feeling it. She kept digging, the debris going back over her spot like digging in wet sand at the beach. Further she went, until finally, she saw a glow. Elbow deep now, Fiona grabbed something that was not debris and pulled it out. In her hand was a ring with a glowing blueish stone, similar to the grey stone she wore around her chest. On both knees, she stared at it, eyes still watery from the smoke.

  After staring at it for a solid five seconds, she began to sob while on all fours.

  Belinea 6.2

  Twenty Years Later...

  Avola

  Bosa-Lowell Province Border

  When all four of the C-112 Vait Transports exploded in mid-air, the shockwaves extended to the ships flanking them in formation. Some of them closest in proximity lost all control and crashed to the barren red rock surface. Others were seemingly blown off-course and needed some very experienced flying by the pilots to stabilize.

  It took Cortes almost ten seconds to regain balance and not crash the Assault Ship. Octavious, riding in the back, yelled into his intercom. “Cortes, what the fuck happened?”

  Cortes flew right through a billowing black cloud from the C-112 out in front, now pummeling to the ground. After looking at her control screen, she shouted back, “I don’t know, they fucking exploded in mid-air. All four of them, I think.”

  Octavious could see the damaging debris falling to the ground. The low altitude they were flying at allowed the red rock surface to be scorched from the burning aircraft. Octavious tried to recollect his thoughts. He was honestly speechless about what he had just witnessed. The Transports blowing up. The attack on the Processing Center. The heavy casualties they took on. He whispered to himself, “They knew we were coming.”

  And yet, if they got the Majavkee Lords and the Vait, it would be worth it. But thinking now, they did not get the Vait, did they? Where was Kaya? Was killing the Majavkee Lords a lie also? Octavious ran to the other side of the vessel. He grabbed Donovan, who looked shell shocked over everything that just happened. He grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yelled, “Who told you the Majavkee Lords were on that transport?”

  Donovan was still half out of it. “What?”

  Octavious repeated the question. “How did you know the Majavkee Lords were on that ship that I blew out of the sky?”

  Donovan, still confused, said, “The SS officer did, Lord Argo’s Captain.”

  Octavious, now incredulous, asked, “Leahy?”

  Donovan answered, “Yes, he is the one that freed me, and us (pointing around to all the miners they rescued as well).”

  Octavious now was starting to put it together. “Freed you? That’s how you escaped?”

  Donovan answered again. “Yes! He offered us the same deal he offered you! The same price for the Vait as the Council was paying the Majavkee Lords. We go back to the old Mining Guild ways, except that we would now keep half!”

  Octavious looked at him in disbelief. “And you would work for us? All we had to do was kill the Majavkee Lords for them?”

  Donovan smiled. “Yes, Octavious, yes!! And now we have that!”

  Octavious gently closed his eyes and whispered, “What have we done?”

  Cortes broke up the conversation with an announcement over the intercom. “Octavious, we got problems.”

  Octavious, still with his eyes closed, spoke on the intercom. “What is it, Cortes?”

  Cortes responded. “I am going to turn the ship, sir. Look at the base.”

  When Cortes made the course adjustment, everyone, including Octavious, looked out the Assault Ship’s open side. In the distance, they could see the mountain rock that identified where their base was camouflaged. But now there was smoke billowing from it, clearly on fire. Octavious spoke, “Contact the base, Cortes. What is going on?”

  Cortes did not sound hopeful. “I have been trying for almost a minute, no response. I can see the AuFa F-81’s from the Processing Center on my screen. They could have caught us by now, sir, but they are staying three minutes behind. I also see two attack squadrons converging on us at the base. There is nowhere to go, sir.”

  Octavious let go of Donovan’s shirt, turning to think. He whispered t
o himself, “This was all a trap. Fuck!!”

  Octavious looked at the other soldiers on the vessel, as well as the miners. They were all looking at him, a look of defeat on their faces. They had gotten pummeled at the Processing Facility. The small victory of stealing the Vait was actually a coordinated attack disguised as an escape. Completely outnumbered and crippled, they were now minutes away from being slaughtered by multiple attack squadrons.

  Octavious took a deep breath. Wondering what happened to his sister would have to wait. He regained his composure. He yelled, “Man the guns!”

  Octavious sprinted through the soldiers up to the front of the ship, going up a small stairwell before getting into the cockpit. He yelled at Cortes. “Where are we?”

  The co-pilot next to her hit a few spots on the screen, and then on the center console, a map showed up. Octavious studied it for a second and then said, “Cortes, can we get to the Cataco Mining Shaft, over here (pointing), on the edge of the Bosa Province?”

  “Maybe…..”

  “Alright, bank there. We can escape there, maybe through the tunnels, to the Fall-back point.”

  Cortes was confused. “And leave the ships?”

  Octavious replied, “We will not last two seconds against those Attack Squadrons. And we can not hide in the base. Tell the remaining ships to follow us.”

  Cortes banked forty-five degrees, and the other twelve ships remaining did the same.

  The Leader of Attack Squadron Four spoke over the intercom. “Command Tower, confirm course change in Valmay Attack Group.”

  Attack Squadrons Two and One, was chasing the Valmay vessels from the Processing Center. They patiently kept a three-minute distance behind them, allowing the other Attack Groups to converge together. It would essentially be a turkey shoot. Admiral Holland replied from his Command Destroyer, “Copy that Attack Squadron Four. Readjusting variance to intercept with the other Attack Squadrons now.”

  The Leader from Attack Squadron Four said, “Copy that, and word on what my signal is?”