Project Unity: Search and Recovery, Chapter Three

Chapter 3

"Captain Hunt is dead," Freya said, unable to look directly at the camera. "To whoever finds this log – I am sorry to be so blunt but I needed to hear it – and to say it. You see..." she glanced back toward his still body and gulped. "You see, the truth is, he died on impact. That may not seem so shocking to you but it sure as hell shocked me." Unable to hold back the tears, she jumped to her feet and then groaned as she unintentionally put her weight on her leg. Falling back into the chair, she allowed herself to sob quietly for several minutes before swiping the tears away and twisting back toward the computer.

"I guess I should start at the beginning. According to the computer and my chron, we've been here for four days and sixteen hours – Unity standard of course. That was another surprise seeing as I've taken at least nineteen days worth of antibiotics in that time. But I digress...

Following the crash, we – yes we! - made camp in an oasis. Weapons platforms had targeted the shuttle and alarms were sounding throughout, driving us away from the only shelter on the planet. We had enough e-rations to last one week between us and we'd found a water source. Trapped with a broken leg, I was pretty useless and the captain disappeared for hours every day to return to the shuttle pod to make repairs. He returned around nightfall with the same report everyday – pod is pretty toasted and the communications array was destroyed in the crash.

By the time the first week ended, I figured Unity had to know we'd gone down by then. A rescue op would be underway and we could only hope they'd evade the weapons platforms long enough to retrieve us. Assuming, of course, that they could find us. And, with careful portion controls – we still had some food. By the end of the second week, my leg felt well enough to walk with support. Robert crafted a walking stick out of a tree branch and spent hours supervising my rehabilitation efforts. Without him, I don't think I would have been able to hobble around for another few weeks.

Without him I would never have gotten out of that pod actually. I was pinned under a console and smoke was filling the space faster than it could be expelled. The smoke had to come from somewhere – presumably a fire. Then there was the gaping abdominal wound. There were a half dozen ways I could have died that day. But Robert Hunt was there! And he saved me...

Except he wasn't. And he didn't. Because he was dead. Science and medicine tells me he died four and a half days ago as a result of high impact trauma during the crash. He never got out of his seat. That's what my medicine tells me anyway...

My memories, which I've always counted on to be true, tell me we crashed twenty days ago and that Robert Hunt saved my life." Freya closed her eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Computer, pause and save log." Spinning around, Freya snatched the walking stick – more physical proof of her memories – and limped with her crutch toward the bathroom at the back of the pod.

Upon returning to the pod, she'd found it quite charred from the fire but relatively intact as far as shelters go. It still lay on its side but she'd unhinged one of the chairs and freed a mattress from the bunk before stowing it, Murphy bed style, to set up her new little house. Unable to stand the sight of Robert dangling from his pilot's chair, she'd released his straps and nearly collapsed under his weight as she dragged him away from the cockpit. She'd covered his still form with one of the blankets and tried to figure out what to do with him next.

As she passed him once more, she paused and stooped to pull back the blanket. He looked surprisingly well considering he was dead. They – she – must have sealed that hatch when she left after the crash, sealing him into the hot, arid pod. With little oxygen and no insect activity, decomposition had been delayed.

At least until she'd opened the hatch back up a few hours ago. The smell accosted her first, and despite having seen bodies decompose before, she felt a wave of nausea and and hobbled away, dropping the blanket back over him in the process. Unable to unhinge the entire bathroom structure, she'd emptied a crate and ran tubing from the sink faucet to create a wash basin. She splashed water over her face and slid slowly down the bulkhead as the nausea faded.

With a short glance at the captain, she closed her eyes to consider the options. "Burial seems the most obvious," she said out loud. "I wonder how you'd feel about that? Usually you'd be cremated but I don't think I could get a fire hot enough to do the job." She shook her head, cursing under her breath. She was ready to limp her way into the dry sand to attempt to dig a hole when the answer came to her. Crawling across the floor, Freya pried open the bottom panel of the synthesizer and shoved her hand in, fumbling for the latch. In a moment, she heard the long, slow hiss and the front (now top) part of the machine opened. Every synthesizer came equipped with a freezer – which stored all the building blocks of the things it created. The bigger the freezer, the longer the synthesizer lasted without needing to be restocked. A pod's synthesizer was compact, intending to save valuable square footage, and was meant to be restocked from Unity on a regular basis. The freezer would have to be completely empty to store a body – which was just as well as Freya didn't intend to synthesize anything from the machine once the body was inside it.

It took Freya an hour to clear enough space in the cold storage to house a body but eventually she'd gutted the freezer of everything but the bare necessities to keep it safely below zero degrees. Her leg throbbed as she pushed to her feet but the longer he stayed out, the worse the decomposition would get. The smell was already permeating throughout the pod. Steadying herself on the wall, she inched toward the cockpit, where she'd left the medical bag, and pulled out the injector. She silently prayed for one more use as she inputted the code for pain killers and then pressed it into her thigh. The tell-tale hiss was followed by instant relief. "It should last long enough to get the job done," she said, turning back toward her task. "Sorry about this Captain."

------

"So just audio today. You see it's possible that all the exertions of yesterday have really fracked up my recovery and now I can't sit in the chair and face the screen – well I could, but I don't want to. It's either day five or day twenty-one on this planet. Either way, still here. I found a second stash of e-rations and since it's just me..." Freya trailed off, sucking in a deep breath as she pictured Robert's body laid out in the freezer behind her head.. "Since it's just me, they'll probably last me another week on the long end. Long term, the sooner I can get up and walk again, the better. The water coming from the faucet has turned a rusty red color. I think I'm scraping the bottom of the reserves now and I'll need to return to the oasis to fill the canteens. That's assuming that oasis was real and not some delusion.... it could be a delusion," Freya paused, truly considering that possibility for the first time. "That would be bad. Very bad.

According to the computer, power is down to thirty-two percent – just what it can garner from the emergency solar panels on the exposed part of the hull. It's barely enough to run minimum systems right now. I may be able to expose a few more panels but not with my leg swollen to twice its usual size. I'm out of juice in the injectors and down to a few pills that take at least an hour to reach maximum efficiency and still barely make a dent in the pain. Tomorrow, I venture out to look at the panels and the communication dish. Wish me luck."

------

As Freya stepped through the doors, she felt the warm sand squish between her bare toes and giggled. It was still an odd sensation to go from the cold, metal corridors of the ship to the warm, serene beach of Paradiso. "There you are! We've been waiting for hours!" Andy cried, jogging easily across the beach toward her. She immediately hooked her arm with Freya's and pulled her along toward their usual spot. Three beach chairs, each adorned with a colorful towel, sat under a massive umbrella. "Julian's just gone to get drinks again... we've been drinking yours while waiting," Andy said with a tipsy giggle.

Freya turned her gaze toward the bar and, as anticipated, spied Julian juggling a tray full of umbrella'd drinks. Catching her gaze, he started to wave excitedly, nearly toppling the glasses and then grinned sheepishly as he steadied the tray once more.

"How that man is an ace pilot is beyond me," Andy teased. "Is he so clumsy in all that he does?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows at Freya suggestively.

"Andy!" Freya had the grace to look appalled but felt a familiar creep of warmth on her cheeks as she surely blushed. By now Julian had reached them and set the tray down on the table between the chairs. "Sorry I'm late... Finn had me updating charts on pretty much everyone on board."

"Didn't he make you do that last week too?" Julian protested, twisting around to glare at the aforementioned Dr. Harold Finn.

Freya merely shrugged, "I didn't get everyone done last week and, of course, he decided he wanted vaccinations notated a completely different way..."

"And everyone gets vaccines...." Andy concluded.

Julian grumbled but his mood eased quickly as he wrapped his arms around her. "Well you're here now at least." Freya relaxed in his arms, all her tension from the medical ward slipping away. "Come on, let's hit the water before sunset."

The trio ran for the shoreline, their drinks forgotten, laughing as the chilly waves splashed against their legs. For hours they alternated between the water and the comfort of their chairs. Soon the holographic sun would set and the sky would be filled with stars. Andy had taken special pains to program the evening sky particularly – using Earth based constellations and stellar movement – and she always stayed until nightfall to enjoy her handiwork.

"Fireworks are about to start," Captain Hunt's voice jarred Freya and she whipped around toward him in surprise. He'd settled down on the sand beside them and grinned. "How is it y'all always have the perfect spot for this?"

"That's a perk of being the creator," Andy teased. "Reserved seating." While the others chuckled, Freya couldn't tear her eyes off the Captain, feeling as if something were wrong. Andy must have noticed, as she felt her friend move closer. "Freya? You alright?"

"Yeah, I guess." Freya shook her head and forced her attention back toward the horizon line, where the nightly firework show was about to begin. Around her, she heard everyone begin to settle down – all expecting the magnificent show. Doctor Finn was seated a few yards away near Commander Bonwick and another security officer. The Lee twins had settled into their parents' laps rather reluctantly. While they enjoyed the fireworks, they found playing in the water more fun and would have stayed in Paradiso all the time if they could.

As the first cluster of explosions blossomed across the sky, Freya shuddered. An errant memory, without context, flashed in her mind as vividly as the fireworks. Beside her, Andy tensed and nudged Julian. He hopped up from his own chair and settled himself behind her. Wrapping a firm arm around Freya's shoulders, he pulled her closer and the flashes of memories faded. And when he whispered, "love you," into her ear, they disappeared completely.

It was nearly two hours later that the last stragglers left the hologrid, leaving only the trio sprawled in the sand. They could have left anytime, but none of them were ready to return to the cold, sterile halls that waited for them outside of paradise. "Back to real life I guess," Andy moaned. She was the first to push to her feet. Julian followed suit, extending his arm for to help Freya up in the process. Reluctantly, she took his hand and trailed behind them toward the invisible grid door.

------

"Well that was a bust. As soon as I stepped outside the pod, all thought of the solar panels disappeared completely! In fact..." Freya recorded her very distinct memories of their day on the beach for the log for nearly half an hour. "At the time, it didn't even phase me that Doctor Finn was there – he died several months before Paradiso was created. And Andy..." she trailed off, playing through the manufactured memory piece by piece. "Everyone there is dead now... except Julian. I wonder..."

Freya growled and shook her head, trying to dislodge the horrifying thoughts as they came to her. With a long sigh, she got to her feet and started pacing awkwardly. "That's not really the problem though is it? My own delusions are rather irrelevant at the moment. The fact that I can't exit the pod without falling into one such delusion IS relevant however. I appear to be lucid – I assume anyway – while inside the pod suggesting that the problem is external. One might assume then that something about the planet – probably in the air – is causing the hallucinations. That is, of course, operating under the assumption that I am not currently in a hallucination right now. Let's hope not."

Maneuvering into the environmental suit with a broken leg proved to be easier than Freya had anticipated. By its nature, the suit made bending at the joints more difficult, so she only needed a tightly wound wrap to keep her leg mostly immobilized. As she slipped on the thick gloves, she tried to imagine doing any delicate work on the pod with them – she could only hope anything broken could be brought back inside for repairs. Finally securing the helmet, she heard the tell-tale hiss of clean air filling the space and mentally crossed her fingers.

As she stepped out of the pod, Freya paused to survey her surroundings. Behind her, the sunlight glared off the crashed pod. There was desert and sand in every direction, as far as she could see; there was no sign of her oasis – though it's possible it was beyond her field of vision. Peering up toward the sky, she spied one of the weapons platforms buzzing toward her. Just as she ducked low behind the cover of the pod, it careened away intent on a new course. Freya waited a few more minutes before hobbling toward the solar panels on the other side of the ship. As expected, sand had buried most of the panels in the crash (or sometime after) so she began the slow and tedious process of clearing it away. While a few were merely "dusty", most were covered in several inches of fine sand. After two hours, and only a half dozen cleared panels, Freya cursed and pushed herself to her feet. To her left, under even more sand, lay the heart of her communications system but she didn't have the energy to dig for it.

Back inside and free of the environmental suit, Freya popped open another e-ration pack from her dwindling supply. She ripped open the hydration tube and sucked down the electrolyte rich water and leaned back against the bulkhead. "Computer, record log." As she waited for the beep of acknowledgment, she nibbled at her protein bar. "The environmental suit appears to have provided the necessary protection from the unknown hallucinations of the planet. The computer indicates that power supply is now rising – albeit slowly – as it uses the newly cleaned panels to pull in more energy. Provided the panels remain clear enough to soak up the energy from this system's star – I might have bought enough power to transmit a steady signal. Of course to do that, the communications array would have to be functional and – I'm fairly certain it's not. Still, I've turned it on and the light is blinking red. Red is usually bad. It also occurred to me that every time I breech the hatch to exit or enter the pod – I'm letting in more of the atmosphere that may or may not be responsible for my delusions. Still, that can't be avoided and I don't plan to live in the environmental suit for the next week." Her meager meal finished, Freya pushed the remnants aside and dug into her medical bag.

It only took a minute to find his heartbeat with the scanner. Freya smiled as she leaned back on her pallet. "Hang in there kid – we'll get out of this. Somehow."

End Chapter

Project Unity: Search and Recovery, Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Meng Asada pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back in the Captain's desk chair. Though it gave a squeak in protest, he found the chair surprisingly comfortable. More so than the one on the bridge at any rate. That one came with expectations and awkward staring. How many days had it been now? Nine, maybe ten? He couldn't remember what time it was at any given moment much less the day. One sleepless night had blurred into the next until he subsisted entirely on the cold coffee that came out of the dysfunctional synthesizer.

After reading the same words a half dozen times, he tossed the data pad onto the desk and fumbled around the mess for the light controls. He felt over the lip of each button, silently counting until he reached the third one. After a few light taps the lights dimmed to twenty percent and he let his eyes close and waited for the inevitable interruption.

He'd barely made it to thirty before the door chimed, jarring him from his moment of respite. "I'd bet my life that it's Jamison," he said, to no one in particular. "Come," he added as the chime sounded a second time, this time more insistently. When Lieutenant Rob Jamison came in he brought with him the noise and clatter of a busy bridge full of engineers. "Pay up," he said, dropping his feet to the ground.

"Excuse me sir?" Jamison asked, glancing around him for another person.

Meng just shook his head, "never mind. What is it Lieutenant? What couldn't wait for morning?"

Jamison's confusion deepened, "it IS morning Commander. It's oh-nine."

"Really?" Meng blinked several times, as if it would ward off the exhaustion he felt. "When did that happen?"

"Um... I don't... this morning?" Jamison offered with a pitiful shrug. When Meng didn't respond, he pressed on with his original intentions. "The engineer in charge of the refit has submitted a new estimate for completion..."

Meng groaned, "how much longer now?"

"An additional two weeks at least. Longer if you're serious about scrapping the third section and repurposing it," he said. "In total we're looking at another six weeks. But all the core systems and areas should be done by the end of this week."

"So the additional five weeks are for what exactly?" Meng asked, wondering if he should roll the dice on the synthesizer again.

"Primarily cosmetics and getting things like the new hologrid system online. They're also attempting to integrate their ship to surface transporter technology with ours," Jamison said, holding out the first of many data pads.

Meng took it but didn't look at it before adding it to the pile on the desk. "Ship to surface? As in through atmosphere? Is that safe?" Jamison shrugged but didn't look enthused by the idea. "Okay, I'll talk to him. Next?"

"Lieutenants Karstark and O'Neill offer updated training reports on their respective departments," Jamison said as he shuffled through the data pads until he found the two he sought. "Lieutenant O'Neill had some colorful words to offer but I suspect they didn't make it into his official report."

"I wouldn't be so sure Lieutenant," Meng said with a smirk. He glanced, briefly, at the pads as they were handed to him. "Anything else?"

"Doctor Azael sent another update on Mr. Ice's condition," he said. "And requests, again, that we contact Doctor Ryan to inform her of said update."

Meng shrugged, "I've already explained to him that they are too far out of range to make communication effective but send the update anyway. It should reach her in a few days, probably by the time they reach the hospital in fact. Maybe he should send the update to them – would be faster and more reliable."

"Would you like me to suggest that?" Jamison asked.

Meng shook his head, "No, I'll take care of it Lieutenant. Thank you. But could you ask one of those engineers out there to take a look at this synthesizer? Everything I input comes out cold."

"Perhaps it's user error?" Jamison suggested, earning a sharp look from Meng. "I'll let them know sir."

"Thank you," Meng muttered as the doors hissed shut. He reached out for the buttons again, restoring the dimmed lights to their usual blinding glare and then picked up the top data pad. With a sigh, he dropped it back on the pile. From beneath the mess an insistent and irritating beep echoed around the room. "What the hell?" he asked, pushing aside the pile of pads until he found the blinking red light that accompanied the noise.

He activated the switch and Doctor Azael's face appeared on the screen in front of him. "Commander, I'm glad I reached you. I need you to contact..."

"As I've already explained Doctor," Meng interrupted, "the transceiver on the shuttle pod is not strong enough to allow instantaneous communication at this range. All your messages will arrive when they arrive."

"I'm aware of that Commander," Azael said. "I received a message from the hospital. They were calling to confirm that Captain Hunt was, in fact, coming. After I confirmed the appointment, they reported that they have picked up no sign of an incoming vessel."

"Well they're still a few days away Doctor. I'm sure they're just not on the sensors yet."

"Doubtful Commander. Their sensors are very sophisticated," Azael said, clearly concerned. "They should have picked them up by now."

Meng sat up straighter and shoved the pile of work to the floor. "Right. Please contact the hospital again and ask them to scan again – as far as they can. Maybe they ran into a technical issue and just need a push." All need for caffeine dissolved as Meng began imagining the possibilities. "Jamison!" he shouted into the comm unit. "Initiate an alpha level scan for the shuttle pod. And for their emergency beacon."

------

Meng leaned forward on the new situation table and hung his head. Around the bridge, engineers' tools clattered into their tool boxes and boots scuffled across the deck as they left. When the bridge grew eerily quiet, he looked up to see two or three bridge officers shooting him sidelong glances before turning their attention back to their stations. "Jamison," Meng said and the Lieutenant appeared beside him abruptly. "How long would it take to recall everyone from the surface?"

"Everyone?" Jamison asked. "At least a quarter of the ship's population is on the surface at any given time. The shuttles can ferry no more than six people and we're down a shuttle pod..."

"I know all that Lieutenant. I want to know how long."

"Days. At best," he said. "It would take days."

Meng shook his head, "we don't have days. Of the essential personnel – who's on the surface now?"

Jamison stepped over to a computer and quickly pulled up a screen that filled with names. "Doctor Hapsberg and her family are on the Southern continent," he offered.

"So we have no doctor?"

"Actually you do," Doctor Azael said, entering the bridge and surveying it quickly. "I would like to offer my services for this mission."

"No offense Doc, but I'm sure we can get our own medical staff back before we leave," Meng said.

"I doubt it Commander. She has not responded to your summons thus far correct? The south is notorious for being far from technology – which I think she was looking for," Azael said with a small shrug. "Beyond that, I also have extensive knowledge of the sector."

"Fine," Meng conceded. "Then tell me how we find them." He pressed a few buttons as a holographic projection of the sector materialized above the table.

Before the doctor could speak, Commander Katou thundered onto the bridge but for once, it seemed, her anger was not directed at him as Aryn Darcy stumbled out of the lift behind her. "You shouldn't be here," Katou snapped.

"I need to speak with Commander Asada, not you Hoshimi," Aryn said, pushing past the science officer to approach the table. "Commander, I've heard about the shuttle and I think, based on reports from around the sector, that I can tell you where they disappeared."

"How did you hear anything?" Katou demanded. "I haven't even been fully briefed and you've already surveyed the whole sector?"

"It's not like that Hoshimi! Honestly, I'm trying to help," Aryn said.

"Though I'd also like to know the hows," Meng interrupted, "I'm more curious about the where." He motioned toward the sector map in front of them. "Please Ms. Darcy, anything you know."

Katou rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest with an irritated sigh. Ignoring her, Aryn leaned forward and pointed toward an area of space outlined in red. "Anywhere beyond here and their vessel would have been picked up by any number of planets, satellites or vessels. You see this area," she traced along the outer edge of the red all the way to their hospital destination, "is a fairly busy trade route."

"They would have passed through the red area only a few days after leaving though," Katou pointed out, leaning into the map as well to judge the short distance from Ne'Vha to the red zone.

"Actually, they should not have passed through the red at all," Azael said somberly. "That's Xinji space." A brief knowing look passed between Aryn and himself but neither offered further explanation.

"Okay, so who are the Xinji?" Meng asked, looking at both of them for several seconds expectantly. When neither offered an immediate response, Meng grumbled. "I could request the information from the colony but that wastes my time and theirs. Who are the Xinji and why is their space off limits?"

Aryn and Azael's eyes locked for a long moment, as if willing the other to go first. Finally Aryn broke the stare and turned her attention to Meng. "They're a xenophobic species in this three planet system," she said as she pointed to the three planets encased in red on the map. "Only one is hospitable toward life but they have a defense grid surrounding the whole system. If an unknown ship crosses their line of defense..."

"Automated weapons platforms fire on that vessel," Azael finished quietly.

"I'm sure they would have left any space they violated once warned," Katou offered, trying to hold onto hope. One look at both their faces though and her hope faded. "There's no warning?"

Azael shook his head. "They're extremely... xenophobic, as Miss Darcy suggested."

"And you think this is what happened to them?" Meng asked as he straightened up. "How long will it take Unity to get there?"

"There's unlikely to be anything left of the shuttle – if this is what happened," Aryn said, chewing on her lip.

"We can't be sure what happened without investigating," Meng said, slamming his hand down on the controls to turn off the display. "How long? Three days or so right? We leave in six hours, get rid of all our visitors."

"Commander, I have a better idea actually..." Aryn offered, avoiding Katou's irritated glare. "Unity is big and slow – by comparison's sake anyway," she said quickly. 

"Well half the shuttles are under retrofit right now and they're not any faster," Katou argued. 

Aryn didn't meet her gaze, keeping her focus on Meng instead. "I realize that. But there are a couple of a civilian ships we could hire. One in particular captained by a human woman named Kay – her ship is one of the fastest in the sector. A small team could go and...." she trailed off, hesitant to give them false hope.

"And why would she help us?" Meng asked, leery at the thought of asking for more help from strangers. 

"A favor for a friend?" Aryn offered with a shrug. "She'd do it I think – if I asked her." Meng considered for a long moment before nodding and twisting away from them. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay on board until they return... I think I could help."

"Fine, but the escort rule remains in place – anywhere you go, you better have someone with you. Same for you Doc," Meng said. "No offense," he added as an afterthought.

"Of course," they said in unison.

"What about the people on the surface Commander?" Jamison asked hesitantly. "Should I begin recalling everyone anyway?"

"Issue a general recall for all hands. In the event that Captain Kay can't or won't help us, we'll go after them ourselves. If she can, I want to be ready to disembark at a moment's notice – just in case." Meng said. "And get Lieutenant O'Neill up here," he said. 

------

"Hoshimi! If I'm going to be on this ship – we're going to have to work together. You're going to have to forgive me!" Aryn Darcy argued, taking long strides to keep up with Commander Katou's angry pace.

Katou swirled around, her mouth set in a firm line, "No one! No one has said ANYTHING about you being on this ship for any length of time. So just, no, I don't have to do anything."

"Not yet! But you said yourself, it's under consideration. And I've read your ship history – you don't turn able-bodied crew away. You simply don't," Aryn said, placing her hands on her hips defiantly.

"This is a generational ship Aryn, that means we have limited resources and we can't just take in every stray who begs for passage," Katou said before spinning around to resume her anger-fueled departure.

"We're not strays! We're human beings just like you all – which is all the more reason we won't be turned away by Captain Hunt," Aryn said, still matching Katou's pace. "Besides, some of your own crew have begun to consider settling on the colony. If even a handful of them do decide to stay..."

"Where did you hear any of that?" Katou asked, stopping again and turning, only to find herself an inch from her former partner. She took a hasty step back and then glared, "have you been snooping in personal logs again?"

"What? No! It's just the talk Hoshimi! It's hard to keep something like that a secret," Aryn pointed out. "We wouldn't be taking up anymore resources than they would. And if they're civilians – well we could be more productive crew members."

"Why are you even arguing this with me? Still?" Katou asked. "I don't make this decision! My opinion is insignificant," she spat bitterly.

Aryn shook her head, "it's not insignificant to me Hoshimi," she said quietly. "I'd like it if you actually wanted me here..."

Katou bit her lip and looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "Well I don't," she said to the ground. "I won't protest but I won't fight for you either." Without looking back, she turned away and shoved through the laughing group of pilots that were in her way. This time, Aryn didn't follow. She hung back and slumped against the railing feeling defeated.

"Everything okay Commander?" one of the trainees called after her but they received no response. "What's up with her?"

"Lover's quarrel," someone else suggested with a snigger. She jutted her chin toward the stooped form of Aryn Darcy and a couple of the others giggled.

"Speaking of lovers..." Coy Mixon said, clapping Ash on the shoulder. "How's that girl of yours? I saw you slipping out of your bunk last night," he said with a teasing grin.

Ash shrugged, "she's not my girl. She's just a friend," he protested weakly. Admittedly he had left his bunk the night before to meet her in the hydroponics bay but it wasn't what his squad was imagining at all. They'd stayed to watch the late night bloom of one of the plants and spent a few hours talking about nonsense.

"Uh-huh," Coy said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You keep telling yourself that Swanson, maybe it'll be true."

"She's leaving in a couple days – and we've known each other less than two weeks," Ash said firmly. "Just friends, sorry to disappoint."

"Eh, I think you're the only one disappointed," Coy said, gaining a few chuckles from the others. "I bet two laundry shifts he kisses her before she leaves."

"I think she'll kiss him," Dominguez countered. "She's older than you right Swanson? An older, more experienced woman... yeah, she'll make the first move."

"Anyone else want a piece of this?" Coy asked, glancing around the group to take wagers.

Before anyone else could chime in, a voice cracked over the speakers throughout the ship. "All hands report to your duty station or quarters and await further instructions. Space dock crew, report to the airlock immediately."

The pilot trainees glanced between each other and then turned as a unit to jog past a group of confused space dock engineers toward the hanger bay. "The ship isn't done yet though?" Birch called out.

"Maybe it's a drill?"

"Or an attack."

"By who?"

"Who else? The only enemy we have around here are the Quuvarii."

Ash's stomach flipped but he remained silent. To this point the Quuvarii had appeared to be friendly, even allies. Had they just been waiting for the opportune moment? "I'll catch up with you all, I need to take care of something," he called, breaking away from the group. He was sure a few cat calls followed him but he didn't stick around to hear them.

"Ash!" Vii'ala gasped as they collided a few steps from the hydroponics bay. "I was going to the airlock. I thought I'd miss you. What's going on?"

"I don't know," Ash said, frowning. "But I wanted to see you before you left. I..." he trailed off, fumbling over thoughts in his head.

"Me too," she said with a chuckle. "Maybe it's nothing?"

"Somehow I don't think so," Ash said. "It feels like something is wrong but I don't know what it is. I need to go – they'll be looking for me. I'm glad I met you Vii'ala."

"Me too Ash," she said, swiping at her eyes quickly. "I meant what I said before. You should come to Nejuo sometime. Look me up if you do?" she asked. Then she held out her hand, palm side up. Ash mirrored the gesture automatically but before she could drop her hand, he grabbed it and pulled her close to him. The kiss was quick, as if they'd done it a thousand times before, but it brought a creeping blush to both their faces. "I'll be waiting?" she whispered afterward.

"I'll find you," he said with a cheesy smile. He stumbled backwards and waved awkwardly once before turning to jog down the corridor.

End Chapter

Project Unity: Search and Recovery; Chapter One

Chapter 1

The acrid smell of charred components jarred Freya into consciousness. Her head swam as she opened her eyes and found her world tilted sideways. Pinned under a slab of console, she twisted toward where Robert had been sitting but smoke spilled from the corners of the small shuttle, inhibiting her vision. “Not good,” she muttered, attempting to jerk her legs free without thought. Shards of metal dug into her calf and she felt the trickle of blood. “Yeah, n-not good. Robert?” Without a response, she continued to try to claw herself free, to no avail. She propped herself up on her elbows and surveyed her condition carefully. In addition to the obvious shrapnel wounds, she suspected her leg was broken as well. Both things were fixable if she could free herself and reach the medical kit. The more immediate issue, however, was the toxic atmosphere caused by the smoke. With a grimace, she laid back down and tried to recall the shuttle schematics. There were a dozen small holes tucked into the bulkheads, each with a specific gear item so any crew member would know where to find what they needed. As luck would have it, the filter masks were to her left – just out of reach. She strained and stretched, trying to trigger the release button but her fingers barely skimmed the edge. In one last ditch effort, she threw herself toward the bulkhead and slammed the button. The masks fell out of the compartment into her outstretched hand but she made no attempt to put one on as pain seared through her body. She fell back, out of breath and struggling to remain conscious.

The console lights flickered meekly, as if the shuttle itself was trying to hold on to consciousness as well. “Doc?” Robert coughed, peering through the darkness for her. Still strapped into his seat, he felt blood rushing to his head as he realized the ceiling was now their side wall. “Doc? You okay?” From somewhere in the smoke, Robert heard a groan and a clank of metal. He pressed the release button and braced for the tumble out of the seat as he fell free. Though the fall was only a few feet, compounded with the impact of the crash, his body ached. Finally on his feet, Robert reached toward where Freya ought to be strapped into her own seat above his. The severed straps dangled limply to the side.

Freya, hanging onto the threads of consciousness, turned toward his voice. She tried to speak but a gurgled, raspy cough and groan came to her lips instead. She felt the masks leave her hand and then he buckled the mask to her face, “breathe,” he commanded as he started to assess her injuries.

Freya clutched his arm with one hand and fumbled for the mask with the other. “M-med kit,” she rasped, pointing toward the other side of the shuttle. She couldn't help but take note of her trembling hands. Robert nodded and disappeared into the thickening smoke. They needed to get out of this shuttle quickly. Freya tried again to move her leg once more and bit into her lower lip. The jagged metal dug deeper into her flesh as she pulled.

“I thought I told you not to move,” Robert said, settling beside her with the medical kit. He glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds from within the shuttle. “We don't have long. I assume you've triaged yourself?”

“Left leg maybe broken and has a couple deep lacerations I suspect. And then there's this,” she said, grimacing as she pulled her hand away from her abdomen. As soon as she moved it, blood started to seep through her uniform top. There was a sharp piece of console sticking out of the wound. Robert sucked in sharply and the color drained from his face as he put her hand back over the wound. “Th-there should be a dermal seal in the kit,” she said haltingly. “When I remove the shard – you'll be ready?”

“One. Two. Three...” They moved surprisingly quickly and the blood stopped flowing. “This won't last long,” Robert observed. It was only a thin layer of synthetic dermis that would last a day at most. And that's assuming the wound clotted on its own underneath. Before he could think long on that, the flickering console emitted a series of angry beeps. “Not good,” he mumbled, tilting his head to try to read the alarm. He looked back at her trapped legs, making a snap decision. “If I move this, think you can walk on that leg Doc?” He'd already thrown the med kit back together and grabbed a few other supplies. “We need to get out of this shuttle.” The angry beeps became more persistent. “Now.” Without waiting for her to respond, he heaved the console up and away from her.

“Good plan,” Freya said, rolling away from where she'd been just seconds before it came crashing down again. “I'm sure. But the door is up there,” she said, raising a trembling hand toward the new ceiling of their pod.

Robert nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, he nodded again and spun around on his ankle. He removed another panel to their left, revealing the shuttle's stock of engineering tools. After a few seconds of searching, he twisted around to grin at Freya, holding up his find in triumph. “I know how we're gonna get out of here,” he said with a chuckle. Without explaining, he jumped into action, removing the bolts from one of the side panels. Freya watched in confusion but remained still and silent as he worked. After a couple minutes, the square panel fell outward and the smoke began spilling out of the hole. “It's the old docking hatch,” Robert explained, offering her his hand.

Together, they stumbled out of the pod and into the glaring sunlight of the planet they'd crashed on. They'd made it a few yards before her leg gave way and she crumbled into the hot sand. Robert dropped beside her and tore away the bloodied pant leg of her uniform. “Med kit,” Freya said through clenched teeth. With nothing to soak it up, blood spilled from the leg wound as she ripped open another dermis patch. “Only have one more of these,” she muttered. She dusted away as much of the sand as possible before applying the patch.

Robert squatted beside her, bouncing on the balls of his feet as she repaired herself. Occasionally he glanced back at the shattered remains of their shuttle pod and then up into the blinding sky. “We better get moving,” he whispered. She didn't have a chance to ask why before a sleek, metal object whizzed overhead, aiming for the pod. Several beams shot out from it, piercing the pod's remnants, before it disappeared over the horizon. “I bet it'll be back,” he said throwing his arm around Freya's waist and hoisting her up. “I don't think we ought to be here when that happens.”

Other metal objects joined the first, each targeting the pod, as the pair hobbled away from the crash site.

------

They were a couple kilometers from the crash site when they stopped. Caked in sand and physically exhausted, they nearly collapsed when they saw the first glimmer of liquid in the distance. While they couldn’t be sure it was safe to drink, or even water, they clambered into the oasis and fell at the bank of the little watering hole. Freya was sure she saw a flurry of activity as small alien rodents dispersed. Despite her thirst, she had presence of mind enough to pull a scanner out of the med kit and take a sample for analysis first. “It’s not completely clean but it is water…”

Robert nodded and dug into the quick bag he’d packed as they fled the shuttle. After a moment, he produced two canteens, complete with viable filters. He filled one and triggered the filter mechanism but didn’t drink it once it had finished. “Let’s clean those wounds up first,” he said, crawling over to her and ripping a bit more of her pant leg away. The temporary dermis layer, hastily applied, had failed to completely adhere and peeled away easily. “Can’t salvage that,” Robert said as he tossed it aside. 

Freya nudged the med kit toward him. “After the wounds are clean, there’s a tube of antibiotic cream and gauze bandages. They’ll have to do – I think we’ll need the other dermis patch for my abdomen. There should also be an Insta-splint in the pack,” she said, silently hoping she was right. The oasis water was chilly and stung as it washed away the gritty dirt and sand. Propping herself up on her elbows carefully, she could see two deep lacerations on her left leg and several small, superficial scrapes. In spite of the potentially crushed femur, the wounds weren’t too bad really. Though she winced a few times as Robert slathered the cream on, soon she was bandaged and splinted. 

"Why don't you just lay back and let me be the doctor for the moment Doc?" Robert teased, pushing gently down on her shoulder. "I took the same emergency medic classes every other officer does."

"Yeah but how long ago was that?" Freya asked, though she allowed herself to be repositioned on the ground. She pulled the hem of her jacket up, tugging lightly to break through the caked up blood. "There's a scanner..."

"Yeah, I know," he said, holding it up with a smirk. He pretended to fumble with it for a moment, just to get a rise out of her, before flipping it open and passing it over the stomach wound. “This one looks better, scan shows good clotting,” Robert noted, hesitating to pull the dermis patch away if they didn’t need to right away. “Will the cream penetrate the patch?”

Freya shook her head, “no, but there might be an injector in the kit.” A minute later, he extended it out to her and she carefully programmed in the medical request for antibiotics. Freya tried to contort herself to apply the injector herself but every attempt sent spasms of pain. Finally she held it out to Robert, “apply as close to the wound as you can, just beyond the edge of the patch.” The hiss reassured her, though it did nothing for her pain. "You know, in the event of an emergency – one where your doctor was unconscious or not part of the mission – you would have been in real trouble just now..."

"Yeah yeah, take it up with the commanding officer," Robert smirked. "Oh wait – that's me isn't it?" Freya chuckled and then grimaced as the small laugh sent a new wave of pain through her center. “What about pain meds?” Robert asked, examining the injector closely. 

Freya shook her head, “I’ll be fine. Don’t know how many uses we’ll get out of it and better to save it for the antibiotics.” She groaned as she pushed herself into a sitting position and took the injector away from him before he tried to insist. "Can I see the scanner a moment?"

"I told you, I'm capable of running a med scanner over someone," he said. After a long moment of silence, in which she continued to hold her hand out toward him, he placed the device in her hand reluctantly. To his surprise, she didn't attempt to scan herself. Instead, she pulled up the latest scan results and skimmed them quickly, letting out a sigh of relief. "The baby is fine Freya – strong heartbeat and nestled safely away from your wounds."

End Chapter