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   Chapter 18 No.18

The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1 By Christina Engela Characters: 5589

Updated: 2018-06-29 12:02


"Aye, sir." Came the operators reply. "Green?"

"Green."

In a moment the expected shift took place. An uncomfortable moment later they arrived in the trashed command center. Obviously, the gravity net was still operational. It was warm too over there, too warm for comfort – and humid, and it stank too, like death.

Most of the lights still seemed to be working, but some had been damaged and looked like they'd been hit by weapons fire. Several were hanging from smashed, sagging sections of ceiling. A bundle of power cables had fallen through a large hole in the ceiling, and snaked across the deck. The place was littered with detritus, and the consoles, deck plating and bodies lay under a plethora of crap that had been scattered all over, like someone had emptied every container or desk drawer. Small personal effects lay underfoot. Corpses lay everywhere, surrounded by smashed equipment. Pools, spatters and trails of blood had dried on the deck and wherever it had sprayed. Maggots, flies and cockroaches were abundant. The smell was… was…indescribable. It was hard upon arriving for the landing party to decide between covering their faces or to take out their side arms.

"Well, Doctor?" Falcone called to Jaki Payne. "Scan?"

The Dr. took out her portascan – a handheld sensor device, and began scanning.

"Life-support is off." She reported, sounding slightly muffled with one hand partly covering her nose and mouth. "Gravity is only 89%. Air flow is… uh – zero. Air recycling zero. Temperature 63.5 degrees… constant."

"Okay, Dr." Falcone breathed. "Find the survivor, get him back to the ship."

"Yes, sir." Dr. Payne replied, and nodded to

us infections have started, but I think we're in time."

Falcone's jaw was set. Thank the gods the survivor was one of theirs, he thought. He had no idea what he would've done if it had been a Corsair lying there – but he was glad he wouldn't have to know. Underneath all the grime, he looked young. A lucky man, regardless. To make it through all that. Payne gave him a shot with a medical infuser, and motioned to her nurses, who began to lift him onto the stretcher.

"Will he make it?" He asked.

"Well, yeah – aside from all that, he's in great shape." Payne quipped sarcastically. "We better get him to sickbay stat."

"Do it now. We'll look round some more."

Payne nodded, then called Antares on her comlink, and she and her nurses and their patient vanished moments later in the glow of the transmatter.

Falcone set the rest of the team back to searching the deck where they'd left off. Lt. Hanson joined him. He liked Greg Hanson. The thirty-two year old seemed to be a very good, level-headed sort of chap, dependable in a sticky situation – just the sort the Fleet needed, Falcone thought.

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