It seemed to Captain Hudson as though everything stopped when he heard the crack of the ceiling above him as it gave way over his head. He froze in place, for one moment forgetting how to move, or yell or do anything but stand there and wait for the crash. Everything seemed to slow to nothing and time stood still as he watched.
Suddenly, everything changed. He fell forward, pushed outward by some force outside his vision, and now the world was once again moving too fast. He felt the roughness of the ground hitting his face, and a sharp pain in his wrist as his hand automatically pushed out to try - unsuccessfully - to break his fall. He felt dust and debris on top of him. He began to push himself up, and stopped when he heard another volley of gunfire above his head as he lay, feeling foolish and exposed, in the middle of it all.
And then, everything went quiet.
He raised himself up, looking around to assess the situation. In front of him lay five dead Maronesian soldiers, killed by gunfire from his own UEO troops behind him. As he turned to look at them, he saw them running towards him - no, not towards him...to his left...and slowly he turned to see why.
Lying face down in the remains of the room they had been in was his youngest crewmember, Lucas Wolenczak. Large fragments of rock lay on top of him, and blood was staining his back, thigh and legs. His second in command, Jonathon Ford, reached the boy first, quickly checking the side of his neck for a pulse.
"Some help here, now!" he shouted, and started trying to carefully remove the rocks that were covering him.
Lonnie Henderson stood beside him, frozen to the spot, her hand pressed against her mouth in horror. Behind her, the rest of the team looked on, aghast.
"Now!" he yelled again.
Hudson quickly hurried to his side, and started to help free the boy. "Get me a med kit, now! Are we secure?"
His tone of command had the desired effect, and his team started moving once more. Lonnie scrambled to hand him a med kit, while the other two quickly assessed the room.
"Secure, Sir!" they each responded.
He pulled open the med kit and pulled out a roll of gauze and a bandage. For a moment, both he and Ford paused, uncertain whether to risk further damage by applying pressure to the injuries, but they each realized that if the blood loss was too great, it wouldn't matter. They pressed gauze pads onto the wounds to stem the bleeding and secured them in place with the bandages. It was all they could do until they could get him to the med-bay.
"Can you carry him?"
"Yes, Sir, but should we move him like this?"
"Nothing else we can do. We don't have the luxury of time to fetch a stretcher to do this properly, we just have to risk it."
"You," he pointed to the first crewman, "in front, and you," turning to the other, 'take the rear. Let's get him to the launch."
They raised their guns and took up their positions, as Ford carefully rolled the unconscious boy over and picked him up from the floor.
He saw Lonnie's white horrified face. "Henderson! Move!"
Shocked into action, she started to move with the rest. Hudson frowned at her lack of self control, but she seemed oblivious of his disapproval.
The journey to the launch was short, and thankfully without incident. No more enemy soldiers appeared, and they were able to get underway quickly.
Ford laid the boy down on one of the benches.
"How is he?" Hudson asked.
"I don't know. He hasn't moved or regained consciousness. He's lost a lot of blood, and running with him to the launch didn't help. He's still bleeding heavily. It's bad, Captain."
Hudson knew that already. He'd seen injuries like that before, and knew better than Ford how bad it might be.
"Let's not borrow trouble, Commander, we don't know how bad it is until we get him to the med-bay." He glanced at the boy's still white face, and noticed a bluish tinge to the lips. He couldn't stop himself from adding, "but if you pray, now would be an excellent time to do so."
It was another short journey to the seaQuest, but to all on board it seemed to take forever as their friend lay unresponsive and deathly pale. Lonnie had recovered herself enough to be able to pilot them quickly back, and even had the presence of mind to call ahead to the seaQuest to have a med team waiting, but they felt helpless in the knowledge that there was nothing else any of them could do but sit at their stations and wait as the life seemed to flow out of their friend.