Beta-read by Midnight Lion;
Note: Updated and Revised 2/25/2011
Chapter 1: Fire in the Hole
The com spat and hissed, "Hot Burn, Code 3, Portside; 2 burn victims for immediate evac.*" Data scrolled across the screen as Medic Emma Mitchell exchanged a serious glance with her partner, Phillips. Eden Prime's sunlit hills and rolling greenery suddenly slanted beyond the viewport, coupling with the G-force of the shuttle's abrupt U-turn to make her stomach flip-flop. The maneuver drew an inarticulate protest from the back-end crew, Phillips shoving sunglasses back with a nonchalant smirk. Their shift in direction sent their shadow skittering ahead of them towards the port. After a brief moment the pressure eased and Emma leaned forward, lips already moving in rote response.
"Roger, Med Unit 819 responding and inbound. ETA…" her eyes flickered over the controls as she ported the coordinates to her console, "4 minutes." A flick of her fingers set the siren howling. The seat webbing retracted with a snap as she extracted herself, spinning the seat to the small shuttle bay. Her hands immediately began pawing through the standard kits, yanking free those with 'B U R N' stenciled on the side.
Dee and Fletch were already suiting up, slinging kits and gear into place with the coordinated ease of familiarity. Dee yanked breather masks and oxygen converters, from the cubby by the door, her chocolate skin standing out with stark contrast against the pale gray material of the Medic's uniform. Though apparently at ease, Dee's lips, flattened against each other, would have given away her tension even if Emma hadn't sensed the aura of it emanating from her form.
Helluva way to finish off the shift.
"No details yet on the situation, we may need to make an immediate extraction if the fire has compromised the structure." Emma slid into her special suit as she spoke, the thin, padded material filled with invisible servos that melded immediately with her musculature. Flesh prickling, she absently smoothed down the few loose tendrils of hair that flared out, crackling with static until the dark energy of her biotics completed the circuit between nerves and suit. Her eyes flicked out the viewport as she leaned on Phillips' chair, taking in the relatively calm scene of the port at midday, barring, of course, the smoke twining upwards in thick, dark ropes from the landing platform. What the... not a full alarm? The air thickened with unease, giving the atmosphere in the shuttle a heaviness that tried to stop up her throat. With a flicker of concentration, she edged the auras out, like a finger tugging an overly tight collar to give room for a little more breath.
"ETA: 30 se..." The ship rocked, clicking Phillips' teeth shut on the word as churning flames suddenly obscured a building below and to their right, expanding outwards and upwards in a bubble of heat and shrapnel. Dee was quick to twine her fingers around a door grip, but Fletch's face planted itself on the floor as the shuttle suddenly listed.
Bracing herself against the med pilot's seat, the view tilted as the force of the blow shifted their trajectory. Emma slid into the copilots chair, sliding the webbing over her shoulders. Not sparing even a second to connect the clips around her, her fingers scrambled across the controls for the Com.
"Med U 819, reporting explosion at the port, main terminal." The status report rattled from numb lips as Emma's brain tried to process what her eyes were witnessing. "I repeat..." The vessel swerved past a tower, losing altitude as Phillips tried to halt their descent, the shuttle shuddering.
"Prep impact!" Face grim and pale save for his black soul patch, the younger man punched the landing jets, generating a lift that pressed their bodies heavily into their seats. The emergency shuttle skipped along the decorative expanse of greenery, tearing deep gashes into the earth with every brief but shuddering contact. Determined not to succumb to the laws of gravity, an inarticulate howl of anger erupted from Phillips' lungs as he wrestled with the controls.
The com exploded with noise. Every unit, base line and emergency responder within range rose in a confused cacophony. Their vessel clanged through a metal sculpture, shuddering with the impact before sliding to a sudden halt, canting steeply as it buried its starboard side into turf.
The unbuckled webbing caught most of the impact's force, preventing her from slamming into the viewport, but her head chucked forward with a momentum that might have snapped her neck had she not been suited. Adrenaline and fear thrumming in her ears, all was silence but for the blaring of the siren. She watched a hand reach out and swat a button, not realizing it was her own until a truer silence fell. A tick pulsed rapidly in her neck, blood pounding through the carotid. The small, functioning portion of her mind, catalogued the symptoms of shock, then took control of her lips and tried to phrase a question.
"Status?" Emma slowly craned her head around, realizing only in the abrupt quiet that the com spit and buzzed. A dull tremor rumbled through the earth, and another plume of smoke rose in the distance, the brief flicker of flame reaching upwards through the smoke before sinking back within the surge of gray.
"Bloody hell!" Dee's dark eyes were wide in a daze. "Damn, Fuck... Shit..." Other than the sudden flow of expletives, Dee seemed rattled but functional, despite the slightly glazed look in her eyes. Emma's gaze turned to Fletch. Her yanked his arms free of the passenger seat webbing, bright blood flowing from his nostrils. Pinching them closed, he yowled, the cartilage shifting visibly under what had been the long width of an aristocratic nose.
"Brokem nobe..." Fletch's voice stalled as Dee, already whipping out tape and medigel, set deft fingers to work. Phillips shivered in the pilot's seat, still gripping the controls and staring out the viewport. Calm did not come easily, but Emma forced herself to try a few even, measured breaths, gritting her teeth and focusing on the rapid tick in her throat. A quieting sensation began to ripple through the air, overwhelming the auras of her companions. She laid a gentle hand on her pilot.
"Pip, you're a bloody hero. But you need to snap out of it." Her wrist flexed, and the shiver it caused in his slender frame seemed to free his brain. His muscles tensed at the contact, quivering, then slowly relaxing as he forced his taught fingers to straighten. Releasing him, she turned to face the com, flicking through the standard emergency channels one by one. When nothing but static rewarded her attempts, she stifled a note of panic, expanding her search to unofficial colony-wide channels. Damn. Her fingers pattered along the keys as she input the restricted military channels, hoping for signs of something, even if it were encrypted.
"The satellite must be out." Emma jumped, concentration broken as Phillips' voice interrupted her thoughts. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, Emma's team clustered around her, listening to the faint hissing as the last inputted search returned to the original channel.
"All of them?" Dee snorted derisively, her short-cropped black curls bouncing with the movement.
"Or... somedig's jamming de signal..." Her eyes met Fletch's severe gaze, though his lips twisted wryly to the eyebrow she edged his direction. The puffs of white padding sticking from his nostrils clashed with the blood-tinged tape and skin reddening from the effects of the medigel. He dipped his head, muttering, "Danks, 'll be here all week." His familiar hand squeezed her shoulder, and while she'd normally have withdrawn from the contact, the desire to comfort exuded from him so strongly that she lifted a hand to grip his.
"All of them? But…" Dee's incredulous response faded as the canted viewport dimmed in shadow. "Holy God."
"But why would anyone want to attack Eden Prime?" Emma shivered, the emotional temperature of the room plummeting to an intensely frigid aura. However, 'why?' wasn't as important a question as 'what now?' Four sets of eyes followed the descent of a monstrous ship, its shape reminiscent of a skeletal hand.
End Notes:
*Terminology:
Hot Burn – Uncontrolled building fire,Code 3 – All available units, including security
Thanks to the reviews and feedback, both those posted and given privately! ~Medivi