"Protocol 9" Short Story - Part 2

Has it only been three days since we left Vorta? Between the trailblazing and the skirmishes, it feels like decades. Captain Trati cast a wary eye up at the foliage above them. The oppressive presence of the storm moved over them, but little of the moisture penetrated the thick upper canopy. The only noise was the sound of the rain hitting the leaves, and the muffled hiss as the acidic droplets pitted their waxy surface. Monsoon is early this year. Reflexively he checked the readouts on his envirosuit. Clan Evora or no, we need to retreat.
“Any sign of them?” Kael asked quietly. He winced as he eased himself back against a tree.
Jason adjusted his helm-cam and scanned the jungle around them. There were no other man-sized lifeforms nearby. “No. The storm’s driven them off.” He frowned and smacked the device; only three squad IDs were registering. He glanced over at the clump of giant ferns where Tris had taken refuge during the last firefight. “Barris?”
There was no answer.
“Corporal Barris, report!”
Scott crept into the undergrowth to look for his friend.
“Roush, report,” Kael growled, then jiggled his helmet antenna to see if he could get rid of the static.
“Man down… Aw, hell! She’s dead.” Scott parted the fronds and pulled Tris’ inert form out into the open. “She got shot up, but that wasn’t what killed her.” Scott pointed to a jagged tear in her enviro-suit which extended from her chest to his navel. “She got hung up on a Y’Landril vine and couldn’t get free.”
“Fuck,” Jason muttered under his breath. He checked the dead woman over. The thorns had cut deep; the wounds were filled with the tell-tale crimson puss. Y’Landril poisoning – quick, but not a warrior’s death. Hallie’s going to be crushed. The exposed skin was a vivid green and had taken on the texture of moss. Captain Trati took stock of his team-mates; no one had escaped unscathed. Can’t save the dead. Attend to the living.
Scott had been shot multiple times during their first fire-fight, but his suit had plugged the holes and resealed before he’d been compromised.
Jason examined him, then checked his biosign panel. “Still no infection. You made it - you’re clear, Private.”
Scott exhaled in relief.
Jason approached the Colonel. He’d fallen from a rocky outcropping and landed badly. Half his visor was occluded with spray-seal, and the biosign panel on his enviro-suit indicated a skull fracture, optic nerve damage, and internal bleeding. “Your head’s a bit bashed in, and there are a couple of small bleeders, but no sign of infection, sir. How are you doing?”
“I’ll be alright; quick healing runs in my family.”
Jason grinned. “So must thick skulls.”
Kael chuckled but didn’t respond.
Jason found a rock to sit on, then shifted his weight and discreetly examined his left leg. Good, the envirosuit sealed cleanly. It’s been two days since the bog, and I’m still alive. Here’s hoping. He applied pressure to the area around the puncture. There was no sensation. He pressed harder. Nothing! He ran his index finger up toward his pelvis and realized his entire thigh was numb. A cold wave of fear washed over him. He checked his biosign panel just to be sure; the readings were all yellow. Low-grade fever… infection. He covered the panel up and stood. “Enough sitting around.” Jason extended his hand to Colonel Sunde. “I recommend we retreat.”

Kael looked blankly at him for a moment, then he gave a slow, thumbs up. “Excellent suggestion, Captain Trati.” He accepted the help in standing and then carefully picked his way over to Tris’ body. “In accordance with her traditions, we need to bury her.”
Scott and Jason dug a shallow grave and gently moved their companion into it.
Kael removed Tris’ tags. “A moment of silence for the fallen.”
The three survivors stood, heads bent in quiet regard for their friend before Scott released the enviro-suit’s safety seals. As the seams opened, the jungle around them seemed to exhale in response. A glittering cloud of orange pollen floated down to cover them.
The three men covered the grave. With a final salute from Kael, the squad took their leave and faded into the green.

Two days later, the Seep was in full flood, as unseasonably high levels in Lake Evora continued to run off. Their trek was slowed many times as they had to re-plot safe paths through the maze of green water and shifting sandbanks. The humidity climbed, and there were times they could see the armor steaming as the acidity in the air attacked it. Many of the reliable stone paths were under inches of water already.
“Colonel, I’ve found a faster path, it just involves a couple of puddles, but they’re over stone,” Jason pointed off into the jungle.
Kael checked the readings and nodded. “We’ll have to be quick, our suits won’t hold out much longer.” He turned and offered his arm to Scott. “We’re almost home, Roush. Survive this last bit, and I’ll sign off on a nice, long furlough for you.”
“You haven’t made me that offer.” Jason moved to the other side of Scott and helped him stand and balance.
“What would you do with time off?”
“I’d—”
“Fuck!” Scott winced as he put weight down on his leg.
“We’ll be there soon; Doc will patch us up, good as new,” Kael’s smile now drooped slightly on one side.
Scott didn’t seem to notice that the Colonel was slurring his words, but Jason did. “Okay, time to move out; the water levels aren’t getting any lower.”

A short time later they crested a hill and found themselves looking across a small valley at Vorta Botanical.
Jason breathed a sigh of relief. We’re going to make it.
“Sirs, there’s smoke on the next ridgeline.” Scott pointed at the base. “I can’t tell more, my camera battery’s dead.”
Captain Trati zoomed his helm-cam in. The low power light flashed in the upper portion of his visor, but he ignored it. “It looks like the site has been burnt out past the boundary markers… parts of it are still reading as hot. The Beast is there, but I don’t detect movement. Three heat signatures are inside. I’m reading Hallie’s, Sekkaro’s and Doc’s ID tags.” He squinted, trying to make things out in the gloom. I didn’t think it was that late. He looked up and saw the sun sitting roughly in the position of thirteen-hundred. It was a dull, white orb in a sky of gathering darkness. Shit. I’m going blind.
“See anything else, Jason?” Kael was now slurring his words like a drunk.
“No, sir.” Captain Trati looked at his teammates; the shadow that was Colonel Sunde was still standing, but Jason wasn’t sure how at this point. The dark blur that was Private Roush was doubled over in pain. Doc can fix us. “I recommend we move out.”

An hour later the men reached the perimeter of Vorta Botanical. The jungle around them bore evidence of a fresh firefight. The thick leaves were riddled with fresh holes, trees had been virtually cut in half from the rounds, and smaller trees had splintered.
They crouched in the green and listened. The jungle around them was alive with birdsong and insects. Everything at ground level was covered in a sticky sap, and soon it clung to them as well.
Jason ran his hand along the charred grass and touched the ground. It was slightly warmer than the sun on his face. “Birds and bugs, but no predators yet. This can’t have happened too long ago.”
“The Beast did most of this,” Scott observed quietly.
Kael pointed out into the charred clearing. “I count eight bodies. Jason?”
Captain Trati squinted and was just able to see the darkened lumps his commander was talking about. “Confirmed.”
“Our drip-torch doesn’t have that kind of range—” Colonel Sunde tried to stand and fell sideways instead.
“Are you alright, sir?” Jason reached out to help him up.
“I’ve definitely been better.”
“There’s just a few hundred meters left, sir. Why don’t we make a run for it?” Scott asked.
“Simple. You can’t run now – we’d be dragging you across the field and through any potential traps left out there.” Kael struggled to his feet. “You got three suit markers on that last reading, right Jason?”
“Yes.”
“Are you up for some recon?”
“Race you there.”

Kael went left, Jason went right, circling the clearing from just within the treeline. They found no sign of the enemy.
The men met at the entrance of the bunker and entered, weapons drawn. The airlock was blown, a familiar red moss had infested it and was trying to establish itself in the room beyond. Blood spattered the walls of the Med-Bay, and orange pollen stuck to it feeding on it and creating new life.
They could see movement at the back of the structure. There were two autonomic suspension bags on gurneys. The biosign panels indicated that the occupants were alive, but the stats on the one closest to them was well into the red on all levels.
“That’s Sekkaro. The autonomic suspension system is keeping him alive.” A figure approached them, his enviro-suit was held together with weld-tape. The visor was gone. “Welcome back,” Alfred spoke slowly through a filter mask, his voice was hoarse and almost unrecognizable. “Where are the others?” He wiped the layer of moisture that formed on his safety goggles as he spoke. The exposed skin on his face was a ruin of deep caustic burns and showed the beginnings of decomposition.
“Barris is dead. We left Roush in the weeds outside.” Kael turned. “Jason, would you go get him?”
Captain Trati turned and almost bumped into the door frame. He ran two fingers along the wall as he left.
“Welcome back, Colonel.” Alfred removed the filter mask and coughed. He replaced it with a fresh one. “Let me scan you.”
“I can wait. Report.”
“We were attacked forty-eight hours after you left camp. They hit from the North and immediately tried for The Beast.”
“Clan Evora?”
Alfred nodded. “They wore a mix of Ankor and Korlo gear.”
“The timing corresponds with our first encounter. Continue.”
“I don’t think they were expecting much of a fight. They had the numbers and time; even with our having terrain advantage they just had to wait for us to run out of ammo.” Alfred paused to catch his breath. “On the second day of the siege June and Sekkaro ran the gauntlet up to The Beast, and I remained here to cover them. I will heartily endorse the fact that Private Sekkaro knows his weapons. I’m not sure what he and June did to extend the range on The Beast’s drip torch, but you’ve seen the results—” Alfred quickly lifted his mask and coughed up a chunk of dark orange phlegm, He cleaned his glove off with a rag and indicated the two bags. “I know June was manning the big gun; I’m sure even the Raiders could hear her laugh. A sniper got her, but she was lucky; she’ll just need a spleen replacement. Young Mister Sekkaro was less fortunate and will require spinal regen.”
Kael leaned against the wall, barely avoiding a damp patch. “What about you, Doc? What happened down here?”
Alfred sat on the edge of the table and composed himself. “Last night, Vorta was attacked again.” He shuddered. “I was finishing up my report when one of the perimeter alarms went off. I checked, and the readout identified five lifeforms; no weapons, no envirosuits. I took them to be scavengers and ignored them. When the creatures managed to open the airlock, I realized they were something more… intelligent. Thank the Gods they set off the sterilization protocols; I’ll be honest, that’s what saved me. I watched three dissolve in the chamber; even after that, the two that survived and got through were hard to kill. They are responsible for all the damage in here, and to me.” Alfred pointed to a third ASB on the floor. “I managed to get one bagged before it rotted away. I’m sure someone at KMR and D will be thrilled with their new sample.”
“Any idea of what they were?” Kael asked as he stared at the ASB. He was certain he saw it move.
“Are you sure you killed it—”
“Prep another bag,” Jason announced as he dragged Scott through the door.
Colonel Sunde turned to his second in command and stared. “Roush doesn’t need an ASB; did something happen—”
“It’s for me…” The world went black, and Jason crumpled in a heap, taking Scott with him.
Alfred crossed the distance between them in a flash, then knelt to check the biosign panel. “Jason’s in cardiac arrest; the tag reads infection!” He activated the timer on his digipad and grabbed the stim packs from the little case attached to his belt.
Colonel Sunde prepped a new bag.
“Roush, strip off his helmet, and enviro-suit, and apply these patches to the Captain’s neck and chest,” Alfred ordered as he readied the ventilator tube.
Scott noted the dark line of an infected vein was visible when he removed the belt. He pointed to it. “There. Left leg.”
The timer beeped.
“Thirty seconds,” Alfred said as he applied a small neural patch to Jason right temple and activated it. He inserted the thick needle into Captain Trati’s neck and attached it to the ASB life support system.
The timer beeped again.
“One minute.”
Alfred and Kael lifted Jason and slid him into the bag, sealed it, then watched in silence as it filled with fluid. The timer beeped a final time.
“We made it, but is he going to make it?”
Alfred examined the small flexible tag on the outside of the bag. “There’s brain activity, and suspension will hold things in check, but I can’t give you an answer until I know what type of infection it is.” The Chief Med-Tech made a notation into his digipad. He picked up his scanner and plugged it into the small port on Scott’s suit. “No signs of infection, but you’re going to be off-duty for a while, Private.” He unplugged the scanner and approached Kael.
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, sir.” Alfred plugged the scanner into Kael’s enviro-suit. “Internal bleeding, four small cranial fractures, lacerated eye, damage to the optical nerve, and a concussion.” He set the device down, removed his mask, and coughed. The phlegm was more of a reddish color now.
“I’ll recover faster than any of you.”
“Tyran ancestry or not, you’re not fit to fly.” Alfred wiped his gloves off, then replaced his mask.
“Once we’re in the air, would the auto-pilot get us back to base, sir?” Scott asked.
“Provided that we don’t run into heavy weather, yes.” Kael’s lop-sided grin appeared. “Would you like to get some unofficial pilot training, Private?

It took the injured men two hours to load their friends, and stow them securely in The Beast.
Alfred prepped an autonomic suspension bag for himself while they were waiting for the engines to warm up. “Here’s my report.” He handed Kael his digipad. I’ve formally requested that we’re all transferred directly to Merrow Cluster for treatment. Don’t worry, I’ve listed Jason as my patient and requested they leave him in quarantined suspension. Once I’ve recovered, I’ll do everything I can for him.”
“Your Rank has its privileges. Thank you.” Kael helped Alfred into the ASB, and finished the hookups, “Sleep well.”
“We’ve got green-lights across the board, sir,” Scott called back.
Colonel Sunde sat in the co-pilot’s chair and strapped himself in. He patted the dash of The Beast. “Private Roush, take us home.”

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