3

Ben broke out into hoots of laughter, shoulders shaking helplessly. Lucas had just informed him of Commander Ford's accidental "misplaced" passcodes, and how he had come practically pleading to the boy. The dark-skinned Lt. Commander had his hands clenched tightly on the steering controls, knuckles pale, jaw set. Lt. O'Neill snickered openly, and Katie Hitchcock looked shocked. Those of the five accompanying security officers that knew Ford personally chuckled quietly.

"Is this true, Commander?" Katie asked, sounding flabbergasted and appearing tenfold that.

"Well, I—"

"Commander, look out!"

O'Neill had cried out just in time—the launch had swerved dangerously close to the metallic shell of the plant, nearly knocking off the right wing. Ford deftly shifted over to manual mode and twisted the steering wheel with all his power. The tip of the water-streamlining wing grazed the metal wall of the plant, and the launch began to pinwheel horizontally. Clamping his jaw down, Ford set out the emergency brake and attempted to veer away from the plant in vain.

After several seconds/years of tense, gut-wrenching screaming of metal against metal, the mini-sub launch slammed to a halt against the import-export portal located on the lower half of the right facility annex. Commander Hitchcock bunched up her shoulder, shielding her neck and thus sustaining nothing more than a slight bruise. Ben Krieg and the senior security officers were jerked forward in their harnesses, but that caused only minor, temporary soreness for their thick uniform body suits.

Lucas, caught off guard, was flung against his compressed plastic seat back, head smashed in contact with the hard surface. Blood, however small an amount, sprung onto the exterior of his scalp and stained his fair hair crimson. Lucas brushed his fingers gingerly over the gash, feeling the warm liquid smear onto his pale knuckles. A cold shudder ran down his spine.

The lights flickered off, along with a few comfort systems, such as temperature control and scent suppressant. A flood of malignant salty/chemical odors engulfed the crew, and the air suddenly became very, very cold.

Commander Hitchcock felt Lucas's shiver beside her, and she placed one hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Lucas nodded in the dim light of the glowing emergency lights. "Just hit my head a little. I'm fine."

Katie looked skeptical, but she decidedly remained silently so.

Ford called back, "Sound off. Is anyone hurt?" and received varying levels of enthusiasm in uh-uhs and no, sirs. He himself had a substantial black and blue on the side of his head, where he had slammed it against the side of the pilots' cabin. No serious injury could be accounted for. Lucas's bleeding scalp was the extent of damage.

"All right, then." Ford unfastened himself from the pilot's seat, and O'Neill did the same for the co-pilot's. Stiffly but surely, the entire crew released themselves from their harnesses and began working on the portal. The intercom system was entirely silent when Katie Hitchcock attempted to contact the inner chambers, so she and the security crew—Crocker included—started to work through the entrance codes.

Krieg shuddered with cold. "Tim? Could you possibly try to get the heat back on?"

O'Neill's upper lip twitched as he turned back to work with the controls, brushing his wire-rimmed glasses back up on his nose. "I don't know if I'll be able to keep it on if I do get it working."

Lucas unfastened his seat belt and went over to help Lieutenant O'Neill.

After several minutes of delicate, tactful work, Katie Hitchcock stepped back from the portal doorway. Moments later, it slid open. A strange odor seeped into the cabin, causing most of them to cover their mouths and noses or gag.

"Masks!" Commander Ford ordered, hastily following his own mandate. The crew quickly did the same.

"What is that stench?" Ben hollered, voice muffled by the plastic oxygen mask held to his mouth and nose.

Tim shook his head, pulling out an oxygen monitor. He watched it for a few seconds, and then shook his head.

"Nothing. The air's breathable, according to health standards."

"Says you," Ben growled, rubbing his arms to keep warm.

Katie rolled her eyes, removing her gas mask and placing a plastic pin on her nose. She held out a handful to the rest of the crew. One by one, they then filed out of the mini-sub and into the loading bay of the plant. Lucas trailed at the end.

The loading bay was completely empty. It didn't seem as though anyone had been working in it for a while, either.

"Hello?" Commander Ford called. "Is anyone there?"

Silence.

"Scan the bay," he ordered O'Neill, Hitchcock, and Krieg. "Make sure no detail goes unchecked. Crocker, you take your crew and survey the corridors. If you see someone, tell them to report to the loading bay."

Crocker nodded his affirmative and lead out his guys out. Lucas slipped out surreptitiously with them as soon as Ford's back was turned.

It wasn't long before they found a clue as what was going on. It was Katie who found it. She gasped and stumbled backwards into Ford, who caught her and set her down gently on one of the stools.

"Blood!" Katie spluttered. She pointed.

The red liquid pooled out on the floor, around one of the other stools. From the way it was splattered, it was either an artery spray or—

"Vomit," Tim said disgustedly. "No one cleaned it up. Commander—" He gave Ford a meaningful look. "I think there's a sickness on this plant."

A stricken expression rose steadily on Ford's face. All the color drained from it, and his eyes widened. He grabbed his com. device and beeped in Crocker.

Lucas stepped up behind the last man in line and began to take notes. The scratching of the pen was what alerted Crocker of his presence.

"Lucas!" Crocker called, without looking over his shoulder. "I thought you were supposed to stay in the bay."

"Well," Lucas said slowly, "the Commander didn't really say that I had to stay, and—"

Crocker chuckled. "Lucas. You and Krieg."

Lucas grinned.

Crocker held up a hand suddenly. "Hang on." A door just ahead stood slightly agape. It seemed to be the only one unlocked.

"Let's check this room out, men," Crocker said. "No harm in it, anyway."

The team nodded. Lucas stiffened and saluted Crocker. Crocker rolled his eyes and proceeded cautiously to the door. He tried wedged his rather large fingers into the crack between the heavy metal door and the tall metal door jam. After a moment of scrabbling for a grip, he sighed and turned to Lucas.

"Could you get this open for me, Lucas?" Crocker grunted. "I can't get a good grip."

Lucas gave one of his angelic smiles and shoved his slender fingers through the narrow gap. With a single strained groan, he swung the door open as widely as he could manage. That instant, a stench so awful as to make Satan himself cringe slammed into Lucas, filling his mouth and eyes. He gagged and doubled over before he could see what the room held. That would be Crocker's responsibility.

"Sweet mother of pearl," he whispered, crossing himself hastily as he peered into the room. "What in the name of Christ happened here?

Lucas glanced up and gasped.

Let's hear a whoop-whoop for the cliffhangers! Anyway, I should have the next chapter soon. I'm working on like four fanfics right now, so yeah.