Between his education and interaction with other people, Leo had become familiar with various sayings. "Crossing the Rubicon", "Past the point of no return", and such. The idea of taking an action that cannot be reversed and committing yourself until the very end.
He knew that was what he had done when he decided to stay on New Brittany regardless of the danger. And it gave him a feeling of peace now that the point of no return had been passed.
If anything undermined that, it was that his staying meant Nasri and Lucy had as well, and if anything happened to them he would have played a part in that.
But there was no time for that now. Right now the Field Hospital had to be set up to receive wounded in addition to its remaining patients. The Critical and Intensive cases that couldn't be evacuated still needed their usual care. In short, he was going to be busy busy busy, and that kept Leo's mind occupied.
Currently he was overseeing the Critical Care Ward, doing rounds. "Doctor Gillam." T'Perro approached him from the door. "Doctor Crusher asked me to find you and see if you know the access codes to the supply locker."
Leo shook his head. "I was a visiting physician only and they never told me. They didn't tell you?"
"I'm afraid not," the Asari answered. The translation programs rendered her voice into an accent that sounded like refined English. "Jankowski was supposed to relay the codes to Crusher before leaving."
"But he didn't." Leo activated his omnitool and used it to connect to Lucy. "Gillam to Lucero."
"Lucero here."
"How busy are you?"
"Doctor Crusher asked me to double-check the security systems for the hospital. In case we get attacked."
"There was a mix-up and nobody provided the access codes for the secure storage room. We've got vital medicines and equipment in there we're going to need access to."
"Great. Well, I can try to hack it. These new engineering omnitools have direct accessing abilities even our best multidevices never enjoyed."
"If you have to break the door down, go ahead. But please don't do anything to damage what's inside."
"Understood. I'll let you know when I'm done. Lucero out."
"Thank you, Doctor Gillam," T'Perro said.
"You're welcome. Although Lucy's the one who will deserve the thanks." Leo signed off on his current patient's status and left the sleeping man to continue resting. "How are the preparations going?"
"The military doctors will handle the triage cases for their soldiers. The Standard Care Ward should be ready to receive new patients soon."
"Let me know when they start coming in."
"Of course." With nothing else to say, T'Perro walked away.
Fassbinder was cleared to transport down several hours after the first landings. Gruppenführer Hermann Fischer, head of the 34th SS Panzer Army, had made his invasion HQ the town hall of a rural village called Grinouville-sur-Crissons. Fassbinder entered this HQ and brought up his arm in a salute and a bellowed "Heil Sauckel".
"Heil Sauckel," echoed Fischer, before he turned back to the holographic display of the area. Grinouville-sur-Crissons was along the Crissons itself, a small river flowing down to the sea near New Rennes. They were still in the upper reaches of said river. The ten landed divisions of SS troops, a mix of infantry, power-armored Panzergrenadiers, and armored fighting vehicles, had already secured their foothold in a fifty mile radius around the original landing point, about four miles from Grinouville-sur-Crissons. Fassbinder looked with approval upon the tactical plots showing that the enemy was in retreat.
"Standartenführer, welcome," said Fischer. "Oberst-Gruppenführer Kranefuss will be pleased with the speed at which we are securing our hold on this world. We have identified enemy forces of several origins. Alliance alien troops, those of the Turians, and those with the large walking tanks they call 'BattleMechs'."
"Are they enough to hold us from the city?"
"It may be a difficult fight, but we have the force to punch through," Fischer assured him. "Is there anything in particular that Oberst-Gruppenführer Kranefuss wanted from your presence?"
"I must get to one of their field hospitals," Fassbinder explained. "There are subjects of interest to the SS-Reichführer that I must recover."
Fischer seemed to consider that. "Which hospital? We have identified four on the planet. Possibly five."
"The one near New Rennes."
"There are two in the vicinity of New Rennes." Fischer indicated the map. One of his subordinates helpfully highlighted the structures.
Fassbinder remained quiet as he thought about it. Not just thought, but felt. He could feel a cool thrum within him that clarified his vision. It granted him an insight he would have otherwise not felt.
And it confirmed what he suspected.
Fassbinder indicated one of the hospitals that, coincidentally, was located beside what had been the Retzoff KZ on New Brittany. "There," he said. "That is where my subjects will be. It fits their mentality to be tending to the untermensch and insubordinate that are kept in the camps."
"I will dispatch a division to force their way through," Fischer said. "But no more. I cannot afford to let my troops be cut off from each other without further support, Standartenführer "
"Very well. And while your troops prepare the way for my detachment, I will arrange for an agent to provide further intelligence," Fassbinder offered. "I will need a secure communication station."
With the help of one of Fischer's junior officers, an Untersturmführer, Fassbinder was directed to a comm set that could send and receive transmissions from SS operative comm units. Once Fassbinder had control he was quickly able to send the signal out.
Several minutes passed, during which Fassbinder was becoming irritated, before Andre Faqin's face appeared. "Yes, Standartenführer?"
"Where have you been?" Fassbinder demanded. The last thing he needed was for Faqin to have compromised anything.
"I was away from the house when I received your signal. My landlord required assistance." Faqin smirked. "He wanted to burn his Alliance credits for fear that he would be discovered with them when the SS reclaimed the city."
Fassbinder's irritation declined slightly. "And did he?"
"Yes. But I recorded it with the set you provided."
"Good, agent. But I have another task for you. I would like you to return to work."
Faqin showed his confusion. "Sir? Are you sure? I would not want to be seen as a collaborator…"
"Do not worry. I will ensure your true loyalties are honored," Fassbinder assured him. "But I need an agent inside the hospital to confirm who is present and where they typically are."
"Very well, Standartenführer. I will contact you when I can."
"Good. I will speak to you later, agent. Fassbinder out."
While around him the staff of Gruppenführer Fischer continued their work of organizing and overseeing the attack, Fassbinder was left with nothing to do. Nothing but waiting.
Waiting… and preparing, which he started by taking out another Reichpfenning coin.
The mess hall felt empty given the activity it had shown when Leo arrived. A few orderlies and a couple of the nurses getting late lunches were the only people in evidence.
The real surprise came when Leo stepped up to the food line and found something he hadn't expected. A steaming large pot was filled with a familiar substance for him: sausage stew.
"Ah, Doctor Gillam." Hargert stepped up on the other side of the food bar. He put on an even fresher pot of the same stew. "I was hoping to see you. You must keep your strength up."
"Hargert, what are you doing here?" Leo asked.
"Keeping the staff well fed, of course," Hargert said. "Albert will be attending things on the ship until they return for us."
"But… if they don't…"
"Then I will probably be killed by the SS." Hargert shrugged. "So be it. 'Nie weider', Leonard. It means more to me than not becoming a Nazi myself. It means I, and Germans like me, will never again allow these evil men to scare us away from doing the right thing. You and your colleagues and patients need good food, and I am here to provide it."
Leo could only nod in reply. "Thanks, Hargert."
"Now, stew alone does not a meal make," Hargert said. "I have some roast beef sandwiches for you as well, and more strudel baking."
Considering what Leo expected soon, he asked, "Have you been given any stores for our Turian friends? They can't eat our food."
"No, they cannot. But dextro-based foods can still be cooked, and I have found a number of effective recipes for Turian foodstuffs that your patients will, I think, enjoy," Hargert said. "Now please excuse me, I must check on the chicken soup for the little ones."
Hargert left Leo to gather his food. He looked to the tables and found an empty spot, one of many, that he claimed to begin eating.
A short time later he was joined by T'Perro. The Asari doctor looked over the stew thoughtfully before trying it. "This is quite good," she said after a second spoonful. "The cook is your ship's cook, isn't he?"
"He is," Leo said after gulping down a bite of roast beef sandwich. "And he is very good at his job."
"A good meal is important in these occupations." For a moment T'Perro looked around the hall. "Doctor Crusher and I have considered seeing about hiring on more local help. Perhaps even physicians."
"Good luck with that. The locals know what will happen if the Nazis retake the planet and they're identified as working for us." Leo sighed. "It feels like the calm before the storm around here."
"It is."
"So, why did you volunteer to stay behind?" Leo asked.
"Why did you? From what I know, if captured by the enemy you will be shot out of hand simply due to your ethnic background."
"And you'll be shot for being an alien," Leo pointed out. "So it seems we're both screwed if our soldiers don't hold them off."
"Indeed. Peculiar that Doctor Crusher is the only one they would likely not kill out of hand." T'Perro swirled her spoon around in a bowl of stew. "If you must know, I am here to get a taste of field medicine. It may be relevant to an enterprise I am committed to."
"Oh?"
"You have heard of the Andromeda Initiative?"
Leo had to think about it for several seconds before nodding. "Yeah. Some woman from M4P2 Earth, I forget her name, was interviewed about it by one of the Alliance news networks."
"Doctor Jien Garson. A charismatic, bright woman. She is funding a large expedition that intends to colonize the Andromeda Galaxy with sleeper arks."
Leo blinked. "Wow, that's… ambitious."
"It is." T'Perro took another bite before continuing. "I have joined the Initiative with a Human colleague of mine. We're due to leave by the end of the decade."
"So… you're just going to leave the galaxy behind," Leo said. "Like that? Just head off to an unknown galaxy."
"Yes. I expect it will be quite interesting. And certainly final. Over six centuries in cryo-sleep to get there. Most of my contemporaries will be in the matriarch stage by the time we arrive." T'Perro grinned thinly at that. "I suppose it is something to walk away from everything you've ever known in life to embark on a bold new future in the unknown."
Leo returned the grin. "I know something about that actually. Although what I did wasn't quite as final as taking a centuries-long cryo-sleep trip to another galaxy."
"A good point."
"So this is getting you experience for the kind of field medicine you might have to practice in the colonies your Initiative will be forming."
"Yes." T'Perro nodded. "And I am evaluating multiversal sources of medical technology to see if we should include them before we leave. Your cortical stimulators, for instance, and some of your medications. Certainly some of the gene treatments may come in use. And the Initiative will probably be buying replicators before we leave."
"I would imagine so."
Leo took another bite after saying so. Other questions formed in his mind concerning this sort of operation, the kind of intensive planning it required, as he chewed and swallowed.
Before he could ask, an Asari nurse appeared at the mess hall doorway. "We have casualties coming in!" she shouted. "The first medevac shuttles are three minutes out."
T'Perro reacted by quickly downing what was left of a roast beef sandwich while Leo got as big a spoonful of the sausage stew as he could. "A pity", she said after gulping. "I hope our host will keep the stew warm."
"Knowing Hargert, he'll have it ready for us when we get back," Leo said. He took one last spoonful, so rushed he only filled half the spoon, and gulped it down. With a final drink of his coffee, he went off to join T'Perro and the nurses and orderlies rushing from the room.
The staff had barely gotten their Triage Ward ready in time before the medevac shuttles started arriving. Turians and Humans alike came through the doors as both medics and patients, the former declaring the injuries and status of the latter for the benefit of the physicians.
Leo's first case was a male Turian soldier with blackened and charred personal armor. "Vitals are low but stable. Wound consistent with a disruptor shot." Leo saw the nurse was a Bolian. "Get the dextro supplies and provide standard disruptor wound care for Turian physiology. He should be fine."
"Yes, Doctor."
The next case was another male Turian. Leo scanned him while a male Turian medic looked on with concern. Leo could see why. "Direct disruptor wound, energy penetration of the armor and shielding, internal damage extensive but treatable. Send him on to Doctor T'Perro for stabilizing until we can operate."
"Yes Doctor," answered the medic.
The roar of another arriving shuttle told Leo this was just beginning. He returned his attention to the next stretcher. Turian female, soldier, missing left leg and left arm and torso perforated with shrapnel and plasma burns. This was a borderline call, but her vital readings - still strong - decided it for Leo. He had her sent on to the nurses for wound care and assignment to Critical Care. A quick glance up told him that Doctor Crusher was still tending to another of the patients he had cleared for further care. They'd already worked through the first batch.
All but one, it turned out, as another stretcher came in bearing a Turian male who looked like he'd been put through a blender. Blue blood coated what was left of his personal armor and several remaining wounds. Leo could see the Turian was alive and, more importantly, in excruciating pain. The mandibles of the Turian's mouth were halfway open and a low moan was coming from his throat. His eyes were focused, with great pain, on one of the medics and then on Leo.
For a moment Leo felt immense frustration. The military had insisted they would handle first stage triage to lessen the strain on the Field Hospitals. Now it was Leo who had to make that painful decision, the decision no doctor ever wanted to make but could be forced into during a critical resource situation: the decision that a patient had to be left to die. But it was clear that heroic efforts would be needed to save this soldier, efforts that would take away from the treatment of several more casualties that would likely be saved.
Leo glanced at the medic, who was looking intently at the patient. "You know each other?" he asked.
There was a catch in the throat of the medic before he answered, "Yes." There was a shade of guilt in the reddish-brown eyes of the Turian medic that told Leo everything he needed to know about why this case was brought to him. He knew this was a waste, but whatever the soldier was to him, the medic hadn't been able to accept the judgement of the Turian military doctor at their mobile hospital.
Leo sighed. With a touch of his omnitool he updated the soldier's record with a literal mark of death that would tell the triage nurses to leave him alone, that he was too far gone.
A part of Leo protested this. That part screamed I can save this man! But the rest of him knew the price of that, the lives that would be lost because he was too busy saving one.
The intensity of the soldier's agony-filled eyes bored into Leo. Almost as if he knew Leo's choice, as if asking him You fought for Joshua Marik, why not for me? Leo forced that thought out and reached over to the nearby medicine tray. A bundle of hyposprays were ready with their contents marked. He found the one with dextro-compatible morphine and picked it up. Leo pressed the device to an intact section of the Turian's carapace-covered flesh, right on the part of the neck where the Turian equivalent of the carotid artery was located, and gave him a dose that no living patient would ever be given outside of extremely special circumstances.
Within seconds the intense look in the Turian soldier's eyes went away. The moan stopped. A contented little sigh of relief was the soldier's last sound before his eyes, now free of pain and, with it, much coherent thought, closed quietly.
"Put your friend in the far corner," Leo instructed the medic. "He's not in pain anymore. That's the best I can do."
"Yes, Doctor," was the medic's response. There was gratitude in it. "Thank you for that, and I apologize. I acted inappropriately."
For a moment Leo nearly spoke to give emotional support to the grieving alien. But he knew Turians took a strong view of duty, and shirking it for personal reasons was shameful in their culture. Trying to comfort could too easily backfire. So he said nothing more to the medic.
Leo might have taken the time to further consider the harsh necessities of battlefield medicine, and indeed he knew he would later, as he always did when these situations were over. But right now he had more patients coming in, with the roar of VTOL engines telling him that the Inner Sphere wounded were now coming in as well.
"No rest for the weary," Leo murmured.
Fortunately for Leo and his two remaining compatriots, reinforcements came during the evening. Field Hospital Bravo was deemed too vulnerable to enemy attack and had been evacuated completely, with all patients and medical personnel pulled back to Charlie. Four doctors came from Bravo: a Turian physician, a physician from the Free Worlds League, an Alakin, and another Alliance Human like Leo, Dr. Ocasio. With their arrival, Leo was able to get out of the Triage Ward after eight grueling hours of dealing with incoming casualties and another two hours in the OR. It was nearly midnight by his internal clock.
Nevertheless Hargert came through for him, waking up from a nap to get fresh stew and freshly-baked garlic baguettes that sated Leo's growling stomach. A cup of rich black coffee helped jolt him to wakefulness.
"Are you sure about that?" Crusher eyed his coffee. "You're due for sleep soon."
Leo shook his head. "No, actually, I told Doctor Ocasio I'd cover his overnight watch in the Critical and Intensive Wards. The man's been up the better part of thirty-six hours and needs his sleep."
"So do you, Doctor," Crusher reminded him pointedly. She took a bite of a pasta dish Hargert had prepared for the dinner meal. Stress was increasing lines on her face.
"We all do, frankly." Leo sighed. "Do you know the part I always hate?"
"The part of what?"
"Triage." Leo frowned. "I hate having to put the 'no' mark on patients because they're too wounded to be stabilized quickly. I hate having to leave them to die."
"Every doctor in this job feels that way," Crusher said. "I've always asked myself if I could have saved those patients with just a little time. In the end, though, it's an unavoidable part of our work. And we have to live with the choices we made."
"Agreed."
"As for the overnight watch, how about we split it? I'll take from 2400 to 0400, you come on at 0400?"
Leo almost said no. Crusher was clearly exhausted as well. It was when he looked into her tired face, and the concerned look there, that he knew she would never accept "no" for an answer. He sighed and nodded. "Sure."
When the time came, Leo arrived at the doctors' station between the Intensive and Critical Care Wards at 0356 with a mug of black coffee and a breakfast ham and cheese omelette fresh from Hargert's kitchen. He found Doctor Crusher making final notations on a digital reader. "Someone did us all a favor and replicated a couple of nice double-sized beds for the quiet room," he told her.
"I'll take it," she said.
"Any cases come up?"
"The fourteen year old Jane Doe in Intensive showed an increase in her white blood cell count," Crusher revealed. "I would almost think she had a systemic infection, but I've found no signs of one in the scan."
"She may have an autoimmune condition, then." Leo accepted the reader and looked over it. "We can't know anything for sure until she comes out of that coma."
"No sign of any neurological change." Crusher stood. "But for now, one of those beds sounds just about right."
"I'll see you in the morning," Leo said, watching her leave.
His routine went off regularly. He looked over Crusher's notes for the last four hours, as well as Ocasio's notes from the previous shift, while finishing his breakfast. By 0430 he was making his rounds in both wards, dealing with patients who were asleep, or at least mostly so.
Due to the planet's rotation period the sun was already well into the sky by 0545, when Leo sat back down to log his findings for the last round and catch a cup of coffee. He was partly through it when Lucy stepped into the door looking refreshed. "Good morning," Leo said to her.
"Good morning," Lucy replied. "Did you actually sleep? Or did I go to the trouble of getting those beds for nothing?"
Leo smiled at her. "No. I made use of one. And I'll have it again later today, I hope."
"Good." Lucy slipped into a chair and started nibbling on what looked like a breakfast burrito. When she swallowed she said, "So, I've triple-checked all of your gear, all of your equipment, and I put an override into that storage vault so you and the others can get in there whenever you need. The system will recognize your retinas and your DNA to let you in."
"Great news." Leo folded his hands together. "What about the holographics? We could use the extra hands."
"Are you sure?" Lucy frowned. "That thing's got atrocious bedside manners. I don't know if I'd have him treat camp survivors or wounded soldiers."
"Maybe not," Leo agreed, "but we need more hands. It has the medical skill and knowledge to treat Standard patients at least."
There was no arguing with that logic. Lucy drew in a sigh. "We were pretty much done. Zimmerman just had some final coding he wanted to do relating to the system's personality, to make it less acerbic and, frankly, give it more respect for confidential patient information. During testing the program had no problem blurting out medical information."
"I guess confidentiality and testing the program's competence didn't go together," Leo mumbled. He didn't like the thought of the program just blurting out information that might be best kept private. His mind wandered to the girl that he and Chakwas had found the other day to be pregnant, and the thought of how the EMH might have handled that delicate situation if it had been programmed the way it was.. "Is there an easy way to program the system to follow confidentiality ethics?"
"Jarod might have managed it, but Zimmerman's coding is… it's really complex, and I honestly don't want to fiddle with a single line of it."
"Right. So, any suggestions?"
Lucy started thinking on the problem. "I could alter the access permissions, I guess. Give you command authority that would let you give the EMH orders. Then you can just tell him not to divulge information loudly or whatever other tweaks he needs. He'll probably still be acerbic though, and he may even resent the commands."
"That's fine, I'd rather he resent me than spew out to strangers that some poor girl they brought in is pregnant. Or was." Leo glanced at his monitors. Everything was running smoothly. "How long until this is done?"
"How many of the doctors do you want to give this access to?"
"All of them."
Lucy's omnitool came to life. Using the two handed-controls - joint keypads generated, one on her forearm by the tool proper and the other a series of keys generated under her left hand. She started tapping away while a holo-secreen showed lines of code. After several seconds she nodded. "Okay. Try it out. I've given you all permissions to turn the EMH emitters on and off, and to issue binding commands."
"Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Hologram in my office," Leo requested.
The EMH shimmed into view. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."
"Too many to count," Leo muttered. He cleared his throat. "From this point on, you are to exercise discretion when discussing the medical information of a patient to ensure patient confidentiality. There isn't a lot of privacy in the wards, so outside of time-critical information necessary to a patient's health and life, I want medical conditions and issues relayed to the physicians on-staff by electronic notification, not verbal remark."
The EMH actually looked annoyed at that. "You're aware that my testing protocols are only temporary, yes?"
"I am. But your creator isn't here to shut them down right." Leo smiled softly. "And because of how sophisticated your program is, we don't want to risk problems trying to do any modifications ourselves, including removing those protocols. This is the best fix we have."
The way Leo had put it mollified the EMH. "I see your point. Very well. Command input logged and implemented."
"Go ahead and make the rounds in Critical Care," Leo continued. "I'm going to talk to…"
There was a tone from Leo's omnitool. "T'Perro to Gillam."
Leo tapped the blinking blue light to accept the transmission. "Gillam here."
"Can you meet me in pharmaceutical storage? We may have a major problem."
Leo and Lucy found T'Perro with Doctor Amelia Lang, a middle-aged woman with graying chestnut hair and dusky brown skin from the Regulan Free States in the Free Worlds League, and Doctor Niria Gaterius, an older Turian physician. They were standing in the middle of the storage room for the hospital's many medications.
Immediately Leo could tell there was a problem. One area was very low, dangerously so, on stock. "What's wrong?" he asked. "What's missing?"
"Not so much missing as used up," Lang noted. Her English was touched by an accent that made her sound as if she were from British India. Her Anglo-Indian descent was easily noticed after a few moments of observation, with a hint of African ancestry in her cheekbones. "We are nearly out of dextro-compatible medications."
Which explained the sour look on Galerius' face. Leo swallowed and shook his head. Without those medications, treating Turian patients would be impossible. "We'll need to replicate more of what we can," he said.
"The replicator can't manufacture everything," Galerius pointed out. "It seems that the Humans from F1S1 messed up our evac from Bravo. They were supposed to clear out the pharmacy and reserve storage of all remaining medications. They did not do so."
"The 2nd Legionnaires did all they could," Lang protested, sensing the rebuke in the Turian's words.
"Which is why our medical supplies got left…"
"We can't afford to fuss like this," Leo insisted. He looked to Galerius. "Doctor, can we ask the 8th Regiment for their stores?"
"They're running low already," Galerius insisted. "Hospital Delta never carried more than a few emergency dextro-compatible supplies. And Able is already under shelling. We need what's left at Bravo."
"Which the Nazis took last night?" asked Lucy.
"Unfortunately, yes," Lang said. "So getting to those supplies will be impossible."
Lucy was already letting some ideas run through her head. "Maybe not entirely impossible. I can rig up a short-term stealth or cloaking device to a shuttle and fly it in. Give me enough backup and I can get in and out before the Nazis know what hit them."
"That sounds far too dangerous," Leo protested.
"It is dangerous." Lucy nodded in agreement. "But if we don't, some Turians are going to die, right?"
"We'll run out of some of our most important treatments before the day is over," Galerius revealed. "Every Turian in the Intensive Ward will be dead by tomorrow if we don't get re-supplied."
"Then we don't have much choice," Lucy pointed out. "Let me speak to the general in charge."
"The human general from the League, Chaganam, could help," Galerius said. "General Lukasian might even be able to get you a Platoon in support. I can connect you to him."
Lucy nodded. "Make the call."
"Good luck, Lucy," Leo said to her. "Make sure you come back." He turned his head to the others. "I'll head over to the pharmaceutical replicators and make whatever dextro-compatible medications I can to tide us over."
"I'll inform Crusher and Gureep," said Lang, just before she walked out.
Andre Faqin was welcomed with no questioning when he stepped into the main entrance of the Field Hospital. He wasn't the only one, as the more hopeful, or those genuinely supportive of the medical efforts, were also heading back to work as janitors, orderlies, food staff, and other support jobs for the off-world medical personnel. Faqin shook his head and allowed himself a partial thought at these fools, who had earned themselves an execution as soon as the SS retook New Rennes.
It wasn't that he was particularly loyal to the Reich. Nobody could accuse Faqin of being loyal to anyone but himself. But he knew full well how powerful the Reich, especially the SS, were, and even now he found the idea that they would lose the war laughable. It simply wasn't possible. As far as he was concerned, the Reich was intentionally letting the enemy win to uncover secret dissidents in the far colonies so that they could destroy them all when the inevitable counterattack swept through. And isn't that what was happening even now?
The New Breton man accepted his work ID at the main security station from one of those grotesque aliens, a purple-complexioned female with blue face markings and little tentacles in a crest instead of actual hair. You should have stayed in your home universe, he thought. Fassbinder's troops would kill her without a moment's hesitation.
But now was not the time for that thinking. He had to get to work, sweeping and mopping, and confirm who was still here for his employer.
Fools. Poor fools, he thought. You should have all stayed out of this universe.
As Faqin stepped around a corner he nearly ran into a young woman in an Alliance uniform, her light brown complexion enough to tell him she would be another of Fassbinder's victims soon enough. He frowned and started to speak when she turned to face him and he stopped. He forced thoughts from his head at seeing the bewildered look on her, the intensity in her blue eyes, and for a moment he felt like she was in his head.
"You'll be needed in the machine shop," she said to him, more than a little irritation in her voice. "And you might want to watch where you're going for now on."
Faqin nodded and said nothing. His mind raced with recognition, though. This was one of them, one of the images Fassbinder had shown him. A member of the Aurora crew. He would have to get a message out, definitely.
But first, he had to continue his round of the hospital. Fassbinder would not be happy if he didn't provide an accurate accounting of them all.
Lucy remained deep in thought on what she was planning while she walked on from her run-in with the local sweeper. She'd cobbled together a rough emissions cloaker from some of the communications hardware, but it wouldn't have the cloaking capability she had hoped for. There weren't parts for that. So we won't be invisible, just hard to detect on sensors. Well, we can work with that.
Her omnitool activated. A Turian man in field uniform armor appeared on the screen generated by the device. "Lieutenant Lucero?" he inquired.
"Yes," she answered.
"Doctor Galerius informed me of your problem. I can get you a team that can slip behind enemy lines and hit the Bravo hospital. But your window of opportunity is very short and you need to meet them immediately."
"Have them land on the hospital roof." Lucy started moving that way. "And I'll need a few minutes to get the dampening generator hooked into the shuttle's system."
"You'll have them."
While working her way up the stairs leading to the VTOL landing pad roof - currently unoccupied - Lucy felt her heart begin to beat faster. At first she thought it was simple anticipation of the mission, and the dangerous insertion behind enemy lines. But as she thought about it, or rather as she came into tune with that energy that resonated within her, Lucy realized it was something more. Something was going on.
Something about that local man. The way he'd moved. The flicker of recognition that had gone through his features and the sense that he was wary in a way that didn't fit with a normal situation.
Lucy tapped her omnitool's comm key and said, "Lucero to Gillam."
After a few moments Leo responded. "Gillam here."
"There's something wrong, Leo," she said. "I can feel it."
"Can you be more specific?"
"There's a man working as a janitor. Brown hair, light complexion, stocky but not overweight. I ran into him earlier and it felt like he was up to something. I mean, as if there's something going on with him."
"I see. I'll alert building security and ask them about this."
"Just be careful until I get back."
"The same to you, Lucy. Gillam out."
By this point Lucy was hearing the high-pitched roar of a mass effect propulsion engine. She looked up in time to see a small assault shuttle fly in and come to a stop on the landing pad. It didn't look like she thought it should, lacking the sharp angles and look of Turian ships.
The explanation came when it opened, and a female figure with purple skin and reddish facial markings stepped down. The Asari was carrying a mass effect rifle affixed to her back and a pistol on her hip. Brilliant blue-gray eyes focused on her. "Fallina," she said. "I'm Fallina Leysi, of the Armali Watch. General Lukasian already briefed us."
"I'll need a few minutes to get this dampener fixed to your systems," Lucy said, holding up the device. "And then we'll be ready to go."
"Right." Leysi showed her in. The cargo area had another six Asari, all armed and looking ready for a fight. "Ever fight with Asari commandos?" she asked.
"No."
"Well, just remember, if we run into trouble, stay back and let us deal with it." Fallina smirked. "These crazy humans never know what hits them when they run into biotics."
Lucy smirked at that. "They never see me coming either. I'm trained in the Gersallian art of swevyra." She got on her knees in the rear, at the engine access panel showing on her omnitool display. "Between your biotics and my power, I would almost feel sorry for the SS assholes we run into. But first things first. I need to get this installed."
"We'll lift off as soon as you're ready."
Faqin's first round was in the Standard Care Ward. The majority of the patients were wounded soldiers who were too busy resting or exchanging stories to notice him. He ran his sweeper up one aisle and down the next while trying to maintain the alertness he needed.
He was disappointed by the first white coat he saw. The woman was clearly not one of those he was on the lookout for. She looked over Faqin with momentary curiosity before getting to work on her patients. He paid her no further heed and continued on.
With the other physicians busy or resting, Doctor Crusher was the only one Leo could get in touch with before he got to the small security office for the Hospital. "Are you certain about this?" Crusher asked over the comm from her current position in triage. "Lieutenant Lucero is under pressure like the rest of us. She could have a case of anxiety that is causing paranoia."
"Not Lucy," he answered. "If she says there's a problem, she means it. I'm about to check with the security staff about this guy to see who he is. If it's nothing, it's nothing, but if this guy is up to no good we need to be ready."
There was only a moment of silence on the line before Crusher responded. "Let me know how it goes. I'll be expecting you in Triage. Crusher out."
Leo lowered his forearm and continued on his way.
The Field Hospital's security staff had been provided by the military. It was mostly made up of mercenaries, in truth, private contractors hired from a myriad number of sources who by their presence freed up military personnel for other duties. It was easy duty for them given the patients were either walking skeletons or wounded soldiers, with little chance of a merc getting caught up with an unwanted situation of having to restrain someone.
Even the chief of security was one such mercenary. Roger Taylor was a former FedStars Marine, of African-American background like Leo. He kept his head bald. "Can you describe this fellow?" he asked Leo after an initial explanation.
"Brown hair, Caucasian, supposedly stocky."
"Hrm." Taylor brought up his forearm and tapped a key on a multidevice. Leo found it interesting that he hadn't updated to omnitools yet. "Looking at the records, we've got a couple of locals that fit that description. Do you know what he does?"
"Janitor duties, I think."
"Hrm." Taylor went over the list. "Looks like I've got a match. Andre Faqin is the name given." Taylor looked to Leo. "Is there a problem with the man?"
"Lieutenant Lucero reported he was acting suspiciously earlier."
"Suspicious in what way?"
"She didn't explain. But I trust her judgement."
Taylor considered that. "He's a local," the man finally said. "No telling how many locals might have been in bed with the damned Nazis. Probably how some of these poor bastards survived for centuries." Taylor tapped a key on his multidevice and began typing on the resulting hard-light keyboard it projected in front of him, allowing him to use both hands to type with a speed Leo associated with professional secretaries. "I'm putting out an alert to my people to keep a discreet eye on the man. I can't afford the manpower to shadow him completely, you understand. Not without stronger evidence."
"I understand," Leo said. "And I appreciate…"
His omnitool lit up around his left forearm. The voice that spoke was Crusher. "Doctor Gillam, you're needed in the ICW right away."
Leo could waste no time. He knew precisely what that meant. "Sorry," he said to Taylor, an apology for having to cut their meeting short.
"No need, Doctor," the older man said as Leo rushed from the door.
Leo arrived in the Intensive Care Ward and met with Doctor Crusher and Nasri, who were already at the adolescent/early-teen Jane Doe. He walked up and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Steady drop in blood pressure began two minutes ago," Crusher answered. "Scans show her heart is failing. Brain activity is unchanged."
Leo nodded and moved to the other side of the bed. "Our earlier scans showed organ damage at the cellular level." He checked the latest scan results. "We may not have a choice," he said to Crusher. "We might have to replace her heart."
"I agree." Crusher was frowning. "But with all of her other organ problems, her heart may not be the only one she needs replacing. And our raw biomatter stock for the replicators is already running low. This may be a triage situation."
Leo shook his head. "That's not for certain. And I'm not leaving a child to die because she might be unsaveable." He looked over at Nasri. "Get an OR prepped. Tell Dr. Ocasio what to expect."
"Right away, Doctor."
Leo looked to Crusher next. He was trying not to be aggressive, but the challenge he was laying at her doorstep was clear. He was making a call to save the Jane Doe even if it meant defying triage procedure. And it would be up to Crusher to object and seek to overrule him.
Crusher nodded to him. Her hand revealed a hypospray, which she used on the patient. "I'm giving her a stabilizer, it may help."
"Thank you."
There was nothing more to say. The two physicians went back to work trying to save their patient.
Faqin was starting to lose patience. And what's more, he was starting to become paranoid. He couldn't help but feel like everyone was starting to watch him.
This meant he had to be even more careful. Not so much because he believed he had been compromised, but because fear and paranoia could cause him to make sloppy mistakes.
Still, it was better to make sure of things. He needed to confirm if any of the other Aurora personnel were here. The most likely candidate for that was the doctor he had seen before. He thought he remembered the name. Now he just had to have a way to ask about it.
He took his chance at seeing an orderly, another Human. "Have you seen Doctor Gillam?" he asked. His English was atrocious and he was relying on French, suitably translated by whatever means others had. "He had asked me to do extra mopping in the Child Ward, and I need to see if it was covered."
"I'm not sure where he is, but you should probably see to that mopping," the woman answered. "Some of the little tykes are still sick, you see. Poor things can have trouble keeping down food, even half-starving as they are."
"Poor things, yes." Excited, Faqin stepped away. He kept sweeping until he had an opening to slip into a closet. He pulled out his communicator from his belt and opened the line. "There are at least two still here, Standartenführer," he informed Fassbinder.
"Good. Be prepared. I will not take long."
With that the call ended. Faqin's job had been done. It was time to leave. He opened the door to the closet to walk out.
He never saw the blow that sent him into quiet blackness.
The OR was ready when Leo and Crusher arrived with their stricken patient. Doctor Ocasio met them at the door in OR scrubs. The Hispanic gentleman, with dark bronze complexion and silvery hair still flecked with black strands, helped them move the patient to a surgical bed. "The replicator is building the new heart now," he informed the other two doctors. He said nothing about the issue of triage, much to Leo's gratitude.
"Blood pressure is still falling."
"Get changed."
Leo and Crusher left the entryway and went to the nearby station to switch into operating suits. Ocasio pulled the bed with their patient into the actual operating theater. The protective energy field that helped keep the inside sterile yielded to him and the stretcher in question.
"We don't have a lot of time for this," Crusher said while pulling on the surgical bodysuit. Its pale blue color matched the general coloring of the OR theater and area. "She's a borderline case."
"I know." Leo pulled on his own. "I can manage this with Ocasio and Nasri, if you're worried about the rest of the facility."
"If this is going to be done, I'm going to be there," Crusher insisted. "I want that girl to live as much as you do. But I also want to know that you can make the call if you have to."
Leo met her eyes and said nothing for several seconds, time he spent finishing the securing of his bodysuit. Once it was done, and he was covered head-to-toe in the pale blue material, he finally nodded. "I understand that. And if I have to, I'll make the call."
Crusher nodded, showing her satisfaction. "Let's go, then. We have a lot to do in order to stabilize her."
The Asari combat shuttle penetrated enemy lines in the company of Turian fighters and a supporting wing of Dorei aerospace fighters. The sector was one at the line where the Turian defenses met those of the Free Worlds League's troops, giving Lucy a view of the ten-to-thirty-meter tall BattleMechs stomping along the front, exchanging fire with SS armored vehicles. Tanks from the League rumbled along their taller cousins to provide further fire support.
"We're landing in two minutes," Fallina informed her commandos. The battlesuit-clad Asari all commenced a final check on their firearms. One, a particularly tall Asari, was carrying what Lucy figured to be a full fire assault rifle, and was loaded down with tactical webbing full of specialized containers to carry medical vials securely. Another had a sniper rifle, and the others had smaller weapons, presumably submachine guns and pistols. Fallina had a gun fixed to the small of her back, where Commander Shepard had often carried her shotgun.
Lucy patted at her right hip, where her lakesh was clipped to her field action uniform belt beside the holster carrying her pulse pistol. She drew in a breath and focused. The tension cleared from her mind slowly and allowed her senses to focus, through her power, at the site they were coming in toward.
Even before the side of the shuttle opened up to allow them to jump out, Lucy knew what they were going to find. Bravo had been two-thirds the size of Charlie, but the Field Hospital had still been a sizable prefab structure with multiple entrances. The shuttle had landed them in one of the emergency entrances, for troops being brought in for treatment. "T'Sana, T'Lira, on point," Fallina ordered as the commando team exited the shuttle. Lucy stepped out beside Fallina. "Karina, find your spot."
"Take me up," the Asari with the sniper rifle ordered the pilot. The shuttle pulled away, leaving the rest of the team at the entrance.
The two lead Asari, one holding up a pistol and the other already generating a biotic field around herself, entered the door first. The rest of the team followed. Lucy looked around. There wasn't much in the way of damage to the site. But the emptiness was unsettling. It made her think of zombie movies or other post-apocalyptic films, where the structures of everyday life were made sinister by the lack of life within them.
"No sign of life in the building," the Asari named T'Sana said. She had her omnitool up and active. "It looks abandoned."
"Let's hope they haven't broken into the medicine vault." Lucy nodded to Fallina. "Lead the way."
Fallina made a hand movement and they began to walk through the corridors of the building. They were nearing one of the ward entrances when the stench hit them for the first time. Lucy almost gagged and wished she'd never learned just what it was she was smelling. "Someone must have been left behind," she said to Fallina.
"And the enemy executed them." A hard look crossed the Asari commando leader's face. "Savages."
The stench felt like it was getting more powerful as they drew nearer to their final destination. The door to the secure pharmacy vault was not very different from the other doors. And it certainly wasn't built to resist things like a bank vault's door was. Lucy figured the biotics could blow the door off easily. She probably could force it open with her own abilities.
But at the same time, anything violent might cause damage on the other side of the door. So instead of that choice, Lucy stepped up to it and brought her omnitool online. "This won't take long," she assured the Asari. "I just need a few minutes…"
