The bomb blast came first. It blew a hole in the perimeter fence of the telepath camp and sent out a shockwave that blew down every tent within six hundred meters. The same blast wave blew through human beings on both sides of the fence with the same destructive effect.
The attackers emerged from the shell of a bank, as its vault was still intact. There were at least twenty, maybe thirty of them, wearing red and white bandanas that covered their faces and carrying automatic rifles. One of their leaders made their intent clear. "Kill all of the psifreaks before they recover!"
They moved with the discipline of former soldiers and trained fighters, heading toward the billowing dust clouds left by the bomb. Upon arrival inside of the blown fence their guns came up and they started gunning down anyone who seemed to be moving. Several of them threw more devices, small explosives that kicked up more debris and dust. Fog grenades went next.
Despite this visual obstruction Richmond observed them through her tactical visor, which formed over her face much like an omnitool interface from the projectors on her temples. A grim expression came over her face as she brought her pulse rifle up. "Lindstrom, Matali, left flank," she ordered. "Use image enhancement, they're trying to keep cover inside of fog."
Beside her, a number of armed telepaths were already bringing out their own rifles, although these were chem-propellant projectile firearms like the attackers' weapons. Their leader, a man named Lawton, had a scraggly beard and a glare in his eyes that was, for the moment, understandably vicious. "We'll go on their right. The banals think their fog grenades will block our line of sight, but my people are ready for this."
"Go ahead and be careful. Above all, I don't want them getting away." The sentiment was shared, and for similar reasons. A firm statement about the result of such a direct attack should provide a suitable deterrent to further efforts.
Richmond watched her teams move in and start engaging the gunmen. She tapped at her omnitool's comm system. "Richmond to Aurora, I want the immediate response team deployed. I'm relaying their arrival point now."
"Confirmed, Commander. Sending them in."
Richmond moved forward with Lawton. By the time she took her first shot Lindstrom and Matali's squads were already laying down fire on their opponents, drawing return fire that dissipated against personal forcefields. This was to the benefit of the telepath militia, who lacked the protective gear of the Aurora security teams. They took some return fire sporadically, and at the ranges involved this ensured some were hit.
But not many. They kept advancing, a few firing regularly to draw attention while the others went to work using their mental powers. They simply stared intently at their attackers.
Chaos spread through the enemy ranks. Some of them turned their guns on themselves or their comrades. Others simply threw down their weapons.
The Psi Corps woman, Kusko Al, came up beside Richmond, a PPG pistol firmly in hand. Richmond openly welcomed the woman to coordinate mentally with her. Kusko seemed momentarily confused by the idea before she followed up on it. A thought not Richmond's own came to her mind. I can't see them through the fog.
I can. Richmond tapped at her visor.
She felt something behind her eyes, seeing what she saw, and more of the attacking insurgents started simply dropping in place. Kusko wielded her power with brutal efficiency, shutting down motor neurons and paralyzing the insurgents one by one.
The check on the attackers prompted the survivors to turn and try to retreat. But Richmond's response team was already at the breach in the fence. Shot after shot stunned the retreating foes, who again found their own weapons were useless against the forcefields employed by the security personnel.
Altogether the attack lasted barely five minutes, at least according to Richmond's timer. "Secure captives!" she ordered, and her people went to work, using zip-ties to secure wounded and downed insurgents.
She turned to Kusko and nodded. "Well done. That helped put this rampage down before it hurt anyone else."
Kusko was silent for an extra second before finding the wording she wanted to use. "Thank you for your flexibility. Most people don't want …" She mentally switched a word, "telepaths in their minds."
"I admit I wouldn't want it all the time, but there's no denying how useful it is."
"Commander!"
Richmond turned away. Leo was running up, a medical kit in hand. "If you've secured the area, I'll get to work," he said.
"We're secure," she answered. "Good luck, Doctor. I don't think you'll be finding a lot of survivors."
Their eyes went to the carnage from the blast, including the devastated and maimed bodies. "Probably not," Leo sighed.
Then, with a deep breath, he went to work.
The day's second meeting with the Earth government was going more smoothly, Meridina thought. Security Minister Marias was not present this time, nor were the President and Premier, and the diplomatic minister, Gupta, was taking charge in laying the agenda for her side.
With the war having ended less than a year before, the planet still bore the wounds of the terrible conflict. The presented data on the rebuilding efforts indicated up to a decade would be necessary to provide even a basic level of civil services and economic connection to the entire planet on par with what was known in the pre-war years. The death toll amounted to over a billion.
At Crawford's behest Henjasaram explained the sort of aid effort the Alliance could maintain at the moment. It wouldn't fix the planet overnight, but the materials, and the technologies granted, would hasten reconstruction.
"It is more economical, and feasible, to promote your world's own economic healing than to simply ship in materials," Henjasaram explained to Gupta and the other ministers. "That has been our experience with prior aid and rebuilding efforts. While humanitarian supplies will be provided as normal, our aid efforts will focus on helping you re-establish civic industries and the production of your own supplies for the purpose of reconstruction."
Meridina noted that Kaveri's omnitool blinked once. A priority message was being sent to her. A moment later Meridina's activated in the same fashion.
Before they had a chance to do anything about it, an aide entered the room and went up to Defense Minister Kanegawa. The Japanese man's expression became a frustrated frown at the words whispered into his ear.
"Minister?" asked Gupta.
"I'm afraid I must leave for the moment," he said. "There's been an incident in one of the occupation zones and the military commanders wish to brief me on the matter." He said no more before departing.
"An 'incident'?" Crawford looked to Gupta. "This happen often?"
"More than we'd like," she admitted. "The interlopers eliminated the leadership and military strength of the Dissolutionist nations, but some of the rank and file remain devoted despite the odds. They receive protection from sympathetic civilians in many areas and frequently attack government forces or telepaths."
"Ah. Well, we won't butt in on that, but if you want a helping hand I'm sure we can pitch in," Crawford answered.
"Your aid will be more than enough help, I think. By all means, please continue describing your plans."
During the discussion Kaveri lowered her left arm below the table and brought up her omintool's display. Meridina sensed concern in her being and sent a telepathic query. Has something happened? She noted Bei'tir, as always, was monitoring Kaveri's mind for such a communication, but the two were at a general understanding on the matter by this point and there was no concern in the Dilgar's mind.
A bombing and attack at the Atlanta telepath camp Doctor Gillam is aiding. Our security forces were involved in the fighting.
Meridina nodded, recognizing the reasons for her concern. Not just the danger to members of the crew, but the complications their involvement could cause in the careful diplomacy here. Were any of ours hurt?
No.
That, at least, was a relief, but it made it clear just how difficult this world's situation was proving.
With the area considered secure Leo called down additional help from the Aurora. Dr. Walker, a Tohono O'odham woman, the Alakin Dr. Hreept, and Dr. Roliri Opani - a Dorei - led a contingent of the Aurora's nurses to take charge of the immediate surgeries in a surgical tent beamed in directly from the Aurora.
As one of the first doctors on the scene, Leo was left with the harshest job of them all: triage.
The victim had been on the outside of the fence, one of the nearby residents caught in the blast. He was no older than thirteen, African-American, with frizzy hair and a lanky, lean form.
He was also missing both of his legs and was covered in blood from a plethora of wounds caused by blast shrapnel and debris. His dark eyes stared into Leo's face with no sign of thought within them.
The tears flowed from Leo's eyes at the child, especially at what his medical scans told him. His skull was nearly crushed and his brain was a mess of traumatized tissue and hemorrhages. Even the latest techniques being circulated in the fleet, many of them added to the database by Surgeon-Commander Nah'dur of the Huáscar, would not save the child. The brain damage was too extensive.
Still, Leo felt like his heart would rip in half as he tapped at his omnitool display, causing the micro-fabricators to create a black-colored tag. Leo gently laid it on the boy and murmured, "I'm sorry." Just in case there was enough cerebral activity left to feel pain, he added a massive dose of morphine that would completely numb any surviving pain sensation.
"There isn't. He's gone. I wouldn't waste the morphine in a war zone… not that it matters with replicators, I suppose."
The voice prompted him to look over toward Doctor Spencer whose voice sounded like she was speaking from experience in that regard. She was casually providing a black tag for the battered remains of an adult, this one with the remains of a vehicle fender sticking from the side of the skull. When she looked to him again she was slapping a red tag on another patient - a middle-aged Asian woman in a C-collar - without missing a beat she said, "Saving the body wouldn't have accomplished anything but given false hope to his family."
"I know," he answered, but then he did inject the morphine. "I just… I hate children dying in my care. It makes me feel like a failure." The image of Joshua Marik in his OR came back, as it always did at these times.
"Been there…" she projected an image into his mind. a small shattered girl with catastrophic burns and a half-melted badge in a field operating theater. "My residency was during the Earth-Minbari War, so believe me when I tell you, you're not a failure. The only failures here are the wastes of oxygen who perpetrated it."
Their conversation was gradually drowned out by the sounds of shouting. Leo stood and turned toward the perimeter of the bomb blast area. The Aurora security teams were watching that perimeter in lieu of anyone more capable at the time. Dr. Spencer glanced that direction, and rolled her eyes in utter contempt.
"Not this again…" she muttered, despite not being able to see what was going on from her position, and went back to assessing another grievously wounded person.
Leo however, could see it. Richmond and three of her people were confronted by a growing crowd. The forward figures in said crowd were shouting something. The situation was getting ugly so he rushed to deal with it. "What's the issue?" he called out as he entered earshot.
The closest members of the crowd were the kind he expected. Mostly male, none into middle-age, and looking very angry. One of them, a bearded Caucasian man, stuck an accusing finger at him. "We've got family in there! Actual people, but you're treating the fake ones!"
Richmond flashed a worried glance at him. She didn't speak, but he could tell that she wanted him to keep his distance in case this got violent.
But Leo wouldn't leave it at that. If the mob got violent, it would interfere with their efforts to save people. It was with that in mind that he gathered his courage and strength and replied, in a loud and firm voice, "We are engaging in triage of the wounded. Our technology allows us to save a lot of people that would die otherwise, but the sad fact is we can't save everyone, so we have to sort the cases by chance for recovery. That is our only criteria! So please, step away and let us keep working on this."
For a moment it looked like the gathering crowd - now even larger - would accept his explanation. But the bearded man didn't back down. He stepped forward, almost up to Leo's face, and brought a finger up as if to poke Leo's chin with it. "How about you let us help, huh?" His expression turned vicious, and he sneered, "We'll kill all of the psifreaks so you can do your jobs and save real people!"
Others in the crowd shouted their support for the idea, which looked to be emboldening the man even more. He took the extra step and was in Leo's face directly. Leo recognized the vicious, blind hate in the man's expression, as if it were exploding out of every pore with the sweat pouring down his face.
Richmond's jaw clenched. "Doctor…"
Leo didn't flinch. "I'm not letting anyone kill anybody. There's been enough death today. Stand back and let us get back to saving who we can."
The man roared a reply. "You're saving the Goddamned psifreaks instead of real people!"
Leo knew better than to argue with that kind of sentiment. Not when there was a mob to fuel it. He turned away from the man and faced Richmond. "Commander Richmond, if anyone interferes with our triage efforts, please stun them. I need to get back to work."
Richmond nodded. He thought he saw the hint of a smile on her face as he stepped past her. "All teams, we're facing a riot situation. Weapons on stun, keep personal forcefields to maximum."
The man that Leo turned his back on chose to defy her. He lunged, as if to tackle Leo. Richmond stepped into his path and let him slam into her personal forcefield. It flickered blue and held, throwing him back.
One of his friends came up, brandishing a crowbar. Richmond remained passive as the weapon swung in mid-air just to be stopped by the same field. He tried several more swings to no effect before backing away, frustrated and, more importantly, intimidated.
Behind the two hotheads and their allies, the crowd started to split up. They'd gotten the message: they had nothing that could hurt Richmond's security people. There was no point to lingering.
"They're dispersing," Richmond said into the comms. "Everyone, back to—"
She was interrupted by the low whine of battery engines. She looked up and noticed a host of aircraft, drones from the size of them, swooping in from the east. They were the size of toys, none reaching a meter in length.
The crowd's reaction was not what she expected. Screaming broke out and everyone seemed to start running.
By now Leo's attention was drawn back by the sound. He watched the aerial craft, drones he figured, swoop in. They dropped canisters like an old World War II dive-bomber dropping their bombs.
Thick, gray gas erupted from the dropped canisters. People in the crowd started choking, many clawing at their clothes to cover their faces. Leo used his omnitool to take a quick scan of the gas, confirming it was a form of tear gas.
In their rush to get away, the crowd ran into a new barrier, as multiple armored, wheeled vehicles rumbled up. Soldiers in digital camo and carrying rifles and batons dismounted the vehicles and rushed forward. More cries came as they laid into the crowd, using their weapons to beat people until they hit the ground, upon which they were zip-tied by the soldiers in the following waves.
Concerned with the possibilities, Leo rushed back to Richmond's side. "I suggest you stand back for this, Doctor," Richmond said. "It's their affair."
At a particularly loud scream from the attack, Leo said, "They were dispersing. What are they trying to prove here?"
"Presumably, they are reminding the people here of precisely whom is in charge," Richmond remarked.
The crowd was in complete disarray, with people trying desperately to get around or through the soldiers, but there was no escaping the ring of shield-carrying riot troops. Said ring was only incomplete due to the presence of the Aurora's security staff watching the bomb blast zone.
Some in the crowd noticed this. They fell back toward Leo and Richmond. One in their number, a woman with a mocha complexion, had tears streaming from her reddened eyes. "Please help us!" she cried. "Let us in!"
"Just minutes ago you were threatening to march in here and begin murdering survivors," Richmond pointed out. "Now you're begging for help?"
A man stepped up beside her, a teenage child beside him. "Please, they'll throw us into camps and never let us go home! That's what they do to anyone they arrest!"
Richmond glanced toward Leo, who met her eyes. "It's not our place," she said. "This is the telepaths' camp. It's their rules, not ours."
Beyond the little crowd of pleaders, the military personnel nearly had the rest of the crowd subdued. Within less than a minute they would be done, and there'd be no more time to make the decision.
Leo keyed his omnitool to connect to the comm device Nysha Williams had. She answered immediately. "We've got people begging to be allowed into your zone," he said. "They're trying to get away from the military."
"I'm no fan of the Unies, Doctor, but I know damn well what these people are like and why that mob formed. Give me a reason to give them sanctuary."
It was a good point. Leo swallowed and said the first thing that came to mind. "Because we're better than this."
A sigh came from the other end. "They'll have to stay at the edge of the camp, and if the Unies threaten violence we won't defend them."
"Understood. And thank you."
"Thank me later, Doctor, if this doesn't blow up in our faces."
The conversation was overheard by the group. Richmond sighed and nodded, gesturing to them while keying her omnitool. "Security teams, we've got seven people entering our zone. Keep an eye on them at all times until I order otherwise."
The group gleefully rushed past at Richmond's permission. Just a hundred meters away a group of armed soldiers were coming that way. Richmond leveled a little glare at Leo. "You've vastly exceeded our orders, Doctor, and it's entirely possible I'll be ordered to hand those people over."
"I know, and this is on me," he answered. "And if you get that order, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there." With that said he turned. "Now I've got lives to save."
"Somehow I think my job will still be harder," she said as he stepped away. She turned her attention to the soldiers and the officer in their number. From the looks on their faces, it was clear demands were about to be made.
Meridina sensed the impending interruption a moment before it came. The door to the conference room flew open and Kanegawa entered, stone-faced, with a red-faced Marias behind him. "Mister Secretary, guests, we have an issue to discuss," he said somberly. Marias flashed an angry glare his way for what Meridina sensed was his disapproval at the Defense Minister's choice of words.
"What has happened, Kanegawa?" Gupta asked.
Marias spoke up immediately. "We would like to know why Alliance naval security is protecting terrorists!"
The force of the accusation was as unsettling as the charge itself was confusing. "Now just what do you mean by that, Minister Marias?" Crawford asked. "Because that's a mighty big charge."
"And it is true. Observe."
Marias brought out a digital tablet and tapped it a few times before swiping along it toward the table. This action sent a video file into the holotank of the table which came to life. The assembled watched as Leo and Richmond allowed seven people past them. Troops, including the one wearing the camera that recorded the video, approached Richmond. "We're taking those people into custody, stand aside."
"For the moment, no," Richmond answered. "They have asked for asylum and Doctor Gillam granted it."
"In the name of the United Earth, we demand…"
Crawford and the others started looking toward Meridina and Kaveri. "Captain, this Doctor Gillam fellow is one of yours, right?" Crawford asked.
"He is. With your permission?"
"Of course." Gupta nodded, her face frozen into an uncertain frown while Marias seemed halfway between actual rage and vicious vindication.
Kaveri brought her left arm up and activated her omnitool. "Captain Varma to Commander Richmond," she said to it.
A few moments later Richmond's voice filled the room. "Richmond here, Captain."
"We have been informed you are preventing United Earth personnel from taking suspected terrorists into custody."
"Doctor Gillam did win permission to grant temporary asylum in the camp to a group of unarmed people fleeing the military's attack on a local crowd," Richmond replied. "They believed the United Earth military would take them from their homes if captured."
"Commander, are these people terrorists? Did they have something to do with that bomb?" Crawford asked.
"At first glance, no. They were simply part of a crowd of locals observing our triage efforts. The crowd did nearly become violent, but the ringleaders backed down when they realized they had nothing to defeat our protection. They were dispersing peacefully when the local military showed up and started subduing them."
"Subduing them, Commander?" Kaveri shared a certain, somewhat resigned look with Meridina. "In what way?"
"A baton or rifle butt to the cheek or head seems the normal method around here, in lieu of stun weapons," came the droll reply.
Crawford and his people looked to Kanegawa and Marias with a clear frostiness in their demeanor. Their peers at the table were clearly uncomfortable, particularly Gupta and the Finance Minister, a German man named Fluck. Marias returned the frosty looks with a defiant glare. "We are within our rights to confine suspected Dissolutionists," he declared.
"Sounds to me like you're more interested in puttin' your boot on peoples' faces, sir," Crawford said coldly.
"I'm sure the Premier and President would appreciate being informed of these issues," Gupta said in a sharp tone. "Thank you for informing us of the issue, Minister Marias." Her tone made clear that she wanted him out.
His reply was a disgusted look before he turned and departed.
Gupta sighed and turned her head back to Crawford and the others. "Now that we've settled this issue, shall we return to the business at hand?"
Henjasaram folded his hands on the table. "Do your soldiers routinely attack unarmed civilians? And do you take them from their homes?"
Gupta shared an uncomfortable look with Fluck. "There is a proposed policy, and only proposed, to relocate potentially violent Dissolutionists to new homes in loyalist territory where their incitements will go unheeded," she admitted. "The Executive Council has not approved the policy as promoted by the Security Ministry."
"Well now, that's reassurin' to hear," Crawford remarked. "We want to be good neighbors, Minister, and that's the kind of matter that'll be hard to ignore."
The response was an embarrassed silence that lasted until Crawford, turning his charm on again, proposed they take a recess. Gupta gladly concurred.
Doctor Gertrude Schneider's office was in the Colony's central medical complex. The building was already repaired from the SS attack and Julia had little issue finding her way to the office in question. She was in a professional suit, a navy blue blouse with a black business jacket and calf-length trousers with comfortable short-heeled business shoes. The ensemble was carefully picked since a uniform might make her seem obsessed or in denial, and she didn't want any issues with the doctor. As an addition she wore her mother's old silver band necklace, a simple adornment and the only piece of jewelry she regularly owned.
Dr. Schneider herself was a silver-haired woman with a few wrinkles on her face. She looked like she still indulged in some athletic activity, showing an energy and youth that belied her visible age. "Ma'am." Her voice had a slight, soft German accent. Her hand extended to a reclining chair. "Whenever you're ready."
Julia eased into the chair. "I wouldn't want to take any more of your time, Doctor, I know you've got other patients."
"No more today, however. You're my last appointment." Scheider smiled gently while her fingers hovered over a digital pad, occasionally tapping at it as if typing. "You were seeing your ship's contracted civilian psychiatrist before you left, yes?"
"Doctor Tusana, yes."
"And then you spent nearly three weeks on this newly discovered world in, which universe was it...?"
"N1C4." Julia recalled that while the universe was now common knowledge, some of the facts behind its discovery were still either classified or not widely known. "I was a guest of one of the planet's rulers."
"Really? We'd just made contact, you must have made an impression."
"I suppose I did. His grandniece and I were, well, fellow prisoners."
"Ah." Schneider nodded. "So you bonded."
"We did. Then we got free and we helped beat the SS and got rescued in the end. Her mom nearly died."
The doctor took more notes. "I've read the medical record. A device was used on you by the SS commander, a machine that pulled memories to project on a holoviewer of sorts?"
"Yeah. The chair." Her face twisted into a grimace as she remembered the horrible drilling pain in her mind. "That damned chair."
"You were also beaten, healed, subjected to immersion-based electro-shock, and had Eubian torture nanobots applied to your skin." Schneider went down the list. Julia pursed her lips at hearing the ways she'd suffered expressed so clinically, but she said nothing. She didn't need to, given Schneider lowered her eyes briefly. "Miss Andreys, you are not my first prisoner of war. And, regrettably, you're not my first torture victim. But you are the first I've seen to be this functional so soon after your ordeal. I find it inspirational, but also concerning."
"Oh?"
"As much as we sometimes try to claim we can do anything, Human beings have limits, and terrible things happen when we're pushed beyond them. And that is what torture does to the human mind, Miss Andreys. Pain is the way our bodies tell our minds that something is wrong. It tells us that damage is being inflicted and we must protect ourselves. Torture prevents this mechanism from functioning. The mind breaks under the pressure of being unable to stop the perceived damage."
Julia nodded at that. "I can testify to that," she admitted.
"And yet you seem like you are here to have a standard examination," Schneider remarked. "You're dressed like a woman going to work, and you walk like someone in control of their life. We both know you're not."
While the doctor's tone never lost its reasonableness, her words put Julia on edge. What was Schneider angling at with this talk? What was the point of it?
"Your medical leave is up in a couple of weeks, provided no further physiological limitation is determined," Schneider noted. "But for the moment, your future is not determined. It'll be decided here, partially by me and partially by the Stellar Navy's senior officers. We can decide you're fit for command, or that you're not."
"Yeah, true," Julia said. Why rub it in?
Schneider eyed her carefully. "Tell me, Miss Andreys, have you considered your future should I determine you're not mentally fit for command anymore?"
Julia forced her facial muscles to freeze, but she could tell her eyes made clear how much that thought angered her. "I admit I haven't," she said. "I feel that, my ordeal aside, I'm fit to command, and I intend to prove it."
"That's not your place, however," Schneider said. "And if you feel this way, why not show it to the world? Nothing in the regulations bans you from wearing your uniform, yet here you are dressed as a civilian. As if you've already prepared yourself for that life?"
Whatever comfort Julia'd felt upon entering was slipping away. This feels like an interrogation more than an interview, she thought. Knowing she needed to give an answer, Julia decided for careful truth. "Listen, I know how it'd look if I did that. It might come off as obsessive, or being in denial about what's happened. Like everything's already back to normal. So I decided to come like this."
"In other words, you tailored your appearance as if this were a negotiation," Schneider observed. "You thought ahead to how I might react to you in uniform, decided it was a risk you didn't want to take, and acted accordingly."
"Pretty much, I suppose."
Schneider tapped away at her pad. "So, to return to my question, you clearly haven't considered that you won't be returned to command duty. I would go so far as to say you're afraid of that possibility, such that you'd rather avoid the thought of it."
"I'm not thrilled by the idea, no."
"Well, please, indulge an old woman." Schneider moved the pad away, looked Julia in the eye, and asked, "Say that I tell your commanders you're not mentally fit for command right now. That I recommend you be reassigned to a non-command position. Whatever your first thought was to that, please, tell me?"
The question came as a brief curl formed on Julia's lips, nearly turning them into a snarl. It went away as Julia searched and searched and found she didn't have such an answer.
"Miss Andreys? What would be your first choice?"
With Schneider looking at her expectantly, Julia finally shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't have a first choice. I simply haven't thought of it."
"I see." Schneider considered her carefully for a moment. "Have you considered that maybe you've put too much of yourself into this occupation, Miss Andreys?"
"What do you mean?"
"You define yourself as the Captain of a ship very strongly, that is clear. But that might not be the best for your mental health. Nor is it the best for the service or your ship and crew. It could be a sign that you've suborned your entire identity to this work, to an unhealthy and even obsessive degree. That would have an impact on your performance as Captain, it may even mean you're no longer capable of the judgements necessary. Certainly you would be prone to making decisions based not on the needs of your mission or your ship, but your emotional need for commanding a ship."
"That's not what it is," Julia insisted. "I simply didn't consider the idea because it doesn't make sense. Whatever else has happened, it didn't change who I am and what I am. I'm as fit to command now as I was before."
"Unless you were never truly fit for command."
There was real heat, and challenge, in Julia's voice when she made her reply. "My record proves otherwise."
"Ordinarily I'd agree, and it is quite impressive. But that doesn't change what happened to you, Miss Andreys. You were captured by the enemy. You were abused. Tortured. Your mind was subjected to an attack from alien technology we don't understand."
"That doesn't change who I am," Julia insisted.
"That kind of remark is precisely my concern, because such an experience would change anyone," Schneider replied. "You don't suffer like that and not change. Insisting otherwise seems like denial."
Julia sighed with exasperation. "I have more nightmares now, that's it," she said.
"Ah, nightmares? About your ordeal?"
"Yes." Julia felt leaving off a "duh" at the end was a concession worth something.
"I see." Schneider retrieved her pad. "Do you feel comfortable sharing them?"
"Not particularly, they're not pleasant," Julia said.
"Ah. Well, I don't want to discomfort you, so we'll move on."
That ship has sailed, lady, Julia thought, unkindly.
Schneider's questions at this point went into minor details, about Julia's personal routines primarily. A timer went off to interrupt one of her answers, but she gave it anyway. Once she was doneSchneider tapped at her pad and set it aside. "We are done for today," she said. "My assistant will schedule your next session."
"You're not approving my return to duty, are you?" Julia asked.
"Not today," Schneider said. "We still have more work to do before I can be sure you are fit." Schneider folded her hands together. "And perhaps you should consider honesty about yourself when you return to see me, Miss Andreys."
"Alright." Julia stood. "And for the record, until I'm told otherwise, it's Captain Andreys, not 'Miss'." Without another word she left.
She didn't see the little half-smile that formed on Schneider's face as she typed another little note onto her pad.
The time on his omnitool told Leo that the sun had already set outside, but his focus was on the patient before him. He went back to work removing the shrapnel from the internals of a male telepath his age. His hands carefully operated the controls of the surgical transporter, the holographic control display allowing him precise control over the system. As each piece came out, Doctor Amita Singh used the tissue regenerator to restore the opened tissue, minimizing internal bleeding in the process.
It was long, exhaustive work given the precision needed on such vital organs. Sweat beaded Leo's face and was only kept out of his eyes by the careful application of a sponge held by a nurse, in this case the red-haired nurse Rose Williams. And given it was his third intensive surgery of the day, in a row at that, his exhaustion was becoming evident.
Despite his fatigue, Leo finished in good time and with no visible issues. He pulled away the surgical transporter system while Singh performed the last regeneration. When she was done a scan confirmed the man's survival and condition. "Send him on to the post-op tent," he said. And bring in the next case."
"I will do the next case with Doctor Opani. You will go have dinner and get some rest," Singh insisted. "You are exhausted, Doctor Gillam, and you already had a long and trying day."
Leo gritted his teeth, wanting to argue and knowing he had no argument to oppose her. She was right. As a responsible doctor, he had to acknowledge that. "Alright," he said. "I'll leave this to you."
"Thank you," she answered. "And you'd better get to the camp mess. Hargert sent down a couple of big tubs of sausage stew."
"Sounds heavenly." Leo stepped away as a group of orderlies brought in the next patient. Rose gave him a small smile before heading to Singh's side. He crossed paths with Opani on the way out.
A short walk to the next tent via a connected walkway brought him to the shower and changing tent. Dr. Spencer was pulling on a fresh suit of silver and brown, a brass Psi pin over her heart and well-crafted gloves on her hands. "I see they chased you out," she said. "You look, and feel, like you're about to fall over."
"Of course I do." A weak smile formed on his face. "I'll clean up and get dinner. Hargert sent down sausage stew. It's his signature food and worth the calories."
"Unfortunately manifesting while helping with the slaughter takes all the joy out of meat. My brother and I are vegetarians, even if it is replicated. Beetles are on the menu though." She replied casually before a gentle smile formed on her face. "I wanted to thank you for your work today. With the triage, and then facing down that mundane mob. You're not the first mundane doctor I've met that treats us like people, but that sets you apart from the others."
"Thank you. I figure it was just the right thing to do, really. Keeping security from having to shoot people is always a good thing."
"Standard procedure in the Corps during mass-casualty events is for Metapol to drop the first rank of rioters and induce a sort of ordered panic in a rolling wave. Crowd dynamics does the rest."
"I imagine what the telepath militia would've done was much worse, if Richmond hadn't stunned them all first."
"Probably just killed them. I'd have helped, to be honest."
The sincerity in her voice was impossible to miss. Leo's instinctive reaction was to oppose the idea, that doctors were supposed to heal, but he stopped that reaction as he imagined things from her perspective and the intentions of the mob hotheads to murder people she considered family as well as patients.
"Exactly. Our version of the Oath has caveats, in the same way combat medics carry guns."
"I understand."
She grinned a bit "I know. Anyway, poor Tom is likely about as tired as we are. I should go track him down and stuff food in his face. He forgets to eat."
"I'll be joining you soon enough," Leo said as she walked away.
Kaveri, Bei'tir, and Meridina walked into Science Lab 2 and quickly found the lab table where the others were assembled. Cat, Tom, and Jarod were each operating equipment focused on a rifle that looked remarkably like a Darglan-tech pulse rifle, the kind that the Alliance had manufactured in the billions to fight the Reich War. Robert, observing quietly, was the first to react to their approach. "Captain, Commander." He nodded at them. "How are the talks going?"
"Carefully," Kaveri answered. "The incident in Atlanta complicated matters on both ends."
"The Security Minister is inherently hostile to us, he sees us as a threat to his government," Meridina explained. "He was not pleased with Doctor Gillam."
"I heard what Leo did. It sounds like him, certainly." Robert smiled thinly. "And knowing him he's about to keel over from exhaustion after working all day on the victims."
"It might cause us mischief to be seen as shielding possible insurgents against their government." Kaveri looked past him to where the others were working. "Secretary Crawford asked me for an update."
"Well, it's definitely Darglan," Cat said. "But it's not ours."
"How can you tell?"
"The elements that compose the weapon are different, for one," she explained. "And we don't use naqia in our weapons like this."
Bei'tir asked the next question, clearly for confirmation more than anything else. "Alliance weapons use other power methods, yes?"
"Yeah," Tom answered. "We typically use ion-lithium batteries for basic functions, with the charge clips that power the weapon employing ion-trinium composite batteries. Most field chargers don't have naqia either. But this thing does."
"It might be Hawk's," Robert suggested. "A lot of his Darglan tech is more advanced than the stuff we got, at least in terms of military applications."
"I checked the profiles on the rifles we confiscated from his cache on Earth C1P2." Jarod tapped a key and projected holographic readings side by side on the table's holo-viewer. The three command officers looked over the findings. "There are definite similarities, but they're not the same. Again, different elemental construction, and these rifles have a higher power efficiency rating."
"So they are even more advanced..." Kaveri said. "Someone has refined the technology further."
"Hawk must have people who work with the technology, otherwise his forces wouldn't be as potent as they are," Meridina noted. "Perhaps they've done so?"
"Possible, but unlikely," Tom said. "I mean, we're not talking a few refinements from tinkering here. It's not something we could've done in our Facility either, not by ourselves. These are evolutionary improvements at the design level. Someone had the design and improved it from experience and experimentation."
"Your implication is that this was the work of a deliberate research effort," Kaveri said. "As in a government organization, or a corporate R&D lab?"
Jarod nodded. "That sounds about right."
"Which would imply that someone in the Alliance may still be responsible," Meridina noted. "Using both your original examples and the confiscated material from Hawk to create these weapons."
"But what would the point be?" Cat asked. "I mean, if the Alliance was doing this, why are we here with aid? One undermines the other."
"Governments do not always work in unison." Kaveri frowned. "This could hypothetically be someone in our military or intelligence service pursuing another agenda. It may even be a defense contractor selling prototypes to arms dealers as a means of unregulated testing and development."
"Either way, I need to report this to Maran." Robert sighed. "If it's someone on our end, they need to be stopped. This world's not stable and they're pushing it back towards war."
After a refreshing shower and change of clothes, from his operating scrubs to his Stellar Navy duty uniform, Leo departed the physicians' tent and traveled the short distance to the big mess hall. It was one of the few intact structures, formerly the dining hall of a technical college, now repurposed to provide daily meals to the camp residents.
It was night time outside now. Portable lights illuminated the walkways between tents and the intact structures, solar cell chargers prominent on their bases, with some of the structures also having lights mounted high on their walls. The relative lack of overhead lights gave the camp a certain feel Leo didn't often see. And the stars were far brighter than he remembered growing up. Atlanta was a thriving metropolis there, here it's rubble, he realized.
At the opening of the hall a young woman met him. She took a quick glance at him and he felt a very slight brush against his mind, one that made his fatigue impossible to miss. A sympathetic look came to her face and she reached into one of three plastic containers, pulling out a green slip of paper. "Use this line," she said. "We sort by priority."
"Right. Thank you." He accepted the slip and entered the hall. As expected there were three lines. One line had children and a pregnant woman, with another woman holding a newborn baby in her arms and a pair of silver-haired elderly behind her, and all had blue slips. Further to the side, the longest line were carrying red slips, adults of varying ages and dress.
Between them was the line with other green slips. He noticed one of the camp's few nurses there and the face of one of the militia he'd seen during the triage work. Leo walked up to the line in a gait he hoped wasn't the equivalent of a zombie.
He didn't say anything, nor even think anything, but that didn't stop the people in the green line from noticing him. One by one they stepped to the side. The invitation was a clear one even without the thoughts being projected into his mind: among themselves they sorted by priority, and surgeons were near the top of the list. Leo knew better than to resist, accepting the gesture and approaching the lunch line. A big steaming bowl of Hargert's signature sausage stew was filled for him. A strawed canister of fruit punch and an apple were added to the tray, as was a cut of lean pork. He took the assembled items to a table.
By the time he was sitting, a few people were looking his way, including Walter Smith from the camp's governing council. He felt good wishes and warm feelings descend on him like a blanket of sentiment, not in an overpowering way but a gentle pressure that proved a balm to his exhausted state. He formed a smile on his face and nodded in appreciation before getting to work on his food.
The dinner was excellent, but given how tired he was, it only added to his desire to get some sleep. Since he was going to make rounds in the early morning, beaming back up to the Aurora felt like a waste of time.
Walter approached. "We've got a place you can rest, Doctor."
"Thank you," Leo said. He followed Walter out, the gratitude of the people still in the mess hall still warming him until he was through the door.
"It's been hard," Walter said as they walked along. "The Unies gathered us here to keep an eye on us as much as to protect us."
"It doesn't look like they were protecting you that well," Leo noted. "Their soldiers would be on your perimeter if they were serious about it."
"Don't I know it." Walter shook his head. "The Dissies shot us, drugged us, or cut us up, the last two in trying to find a way to end telepathy. The Unies aren't much better, they just want us around for our mental abilities. We're tools to them, and possible weapons. Makes me wonder what'll happen if they decide they want us gone too."
Leo understood his fear. It was an easy transition to make. He chose to ask a personal question. "Are you all from around here?"
"Nah. I was born and raised in Tulsa myself," Smith said. "I manifested after the war started and ended up on a train to Andersonville south of here."
"Why Andersonville?"
"It's where the New Confederacy government ran its telepath experimentation center, part of the worldwide Dissie efforts to wipe us out."
Leo found the choice to be diabolically inspired, given the history he associated with that locale. "I see you survived."
"A unit of Pac Fed infiltrators hit the train, got me and a bunch of the others out. Nysha was in charge of the underground cell that helped them. I've worked with her since. After the war, the Unies took every telepath in the North American occupied zones and put them here." Walter shook his head. "Honestly, sometimes I think our whole purpose is to provoke attacks like these so that the Unies can come in and wipe out the insurgents involved."
"You think you're bait."
"Yeah, and I'm tired of it." Walter shook his head. "You know, I always saw myself as North American until after the war. Now it feels like I'm something else, something different. Being a telepath, it's like being part of a nation or a tribe that everyone likes to crap on."
Leo nodded as an answer, as they were now stepping up to a building. Like most of the buildings in the area it was only partially intact, a former hotel or extended stay business. Walter opened one of the intact doors. The inside was dark until Walter held a light up to show the interior. Leo saw that there was a bed and other furnishings. "There's no running water," he said, "but the beds aren't bad."
"I'm glad to hear that." Leo went over to the bed and sat on it. It was a little too firm, but he could sleep on it easily. "Thanks for the place to lay my head."
"You've saved good people, you deserve it," Walter replied.
Walter left him at that point, closing the door as he did. Leo's omnitool lit up the room until he was ready, settling under the sheet and curling the pillows under his head until he was comfortable. He let sleep fill his head to gently carry him away.
A hand grabbed his arm.
Leo's eyes shot open. The light in the room was non-existent, just a little from the outside, creating at least three silhouettes in his vision. Before he could speak he felt more hands take hold of him and force him up. He tried to speak, but he couldn't. Something gripped the muscles of his jaw and tongue, holding his mouth closed, something intangible and unseen.
"You've got him?" a low voice asked.
"Yeah."
"Let's go."
Leo's leg and hip muscles moved as if on their own accord, bringing him into an awkward standing pose. "He looks unnatural, make it look right!" another voice hissed viciously.
"S-sorry…"
"Quiet, tube baby!"
There was the sound of flesh striking flesh. For a moment Leo felt the force working his muscles slip away. He stumbled forward and tried to raise his voice, but a hand clapped down on his mouth while others took him by the arms. A new voice hissed. "Get control again, dammit, and stay quiet! We need to get out of here now!"
A stab of frustration went through him. He recognized the voice: the woman who'd begged to be allowed into the camp. No good deed goes unpunished.
The controlling force returned to him, this time with a sense of apology in it. Despite himself and his fatigue he took a step forward, then another, his captors following. One opened the door and they emerged into darkness. The nearby light was out, presumably wrecked for this purpose.
Where are they taking me? he wondered as he was led further from the building. They were heading toward the blast zone, where the fence was still broken. I'm being kidnapped! he thought in what he thought was a loud fashion, hoping a friendly telepath would hear it.
Don't call for help! We need you, we need you more than they do! It was words this time, urgent, female. They'll make me hurt you if you try!
Who are you? Leo thought, but there was no answer. Instead his muscles went into operation again, moving him along in the middle of the group. Where are you taking me?
Stop talking!
As the command came one of Leo's muscles contracted awkwardly. He felt his balance teeter and he started to fall, just to be caught by one of the men in the group. "Linda, that little psifreak's going to get us caught," he heard a deep voice whisper.
"Keep the song in your heads and shut up," the woman answered, her voice low. "We keep going."
Step by step they moved closer to the fence line. Leo was certain security would be there, but with the darkness around and the guards mostly worried about someone coming in, would they see him? Would they even realize he was being coerced?
He tried to open his mouth, to ask why, but his jaw wouldn't work, nor his vocal cords. They were under outside control and he couldn't force that control away.
Run! a voice urged in his head.
Suddenly he felt a second force in his head, just as powerful but more directed, more controlled. It flowed through him as if it were a purging element, tearing away the outside control on his motor functions.
He nearly stumbled again as his control came back, but he caught himself. Again the arms came for him, trying to grab him, but his jacket wasn't sealed and the fingers gripped it instead of his actual arm. He twisted free, leaving his uniform jacket behind. He dropped low for a moment before forcing his exhausted body into a dash aided by the adrenaline release he'd been feeling since he'd been attacked.
Behind him screams and shouting began. There was no gunfire, but he heard the definite sound of flesh striking flesh repeat. A distant crack indicated a bone had been broken, as did the following scream of agony, but he kept going until he found the remains of an old utility shed in the gloom. The door was gone, probably blown away by the bomb, and he entered it and hid behind an old shelf. Outside the shouting started to die down while he keyed his omnitool's locator beacon.
"Doctor?!" A woman's voice pierced the shed, followed by a light beam. "Security Officer Elisa Chase, I've got your locator. You can come out now. Are you hurt?"
Leo sighed with relief and emerged from his hiding space. Chase was a lower-ranked Petty Officer in Richmond's security department, a stocky, muscular woman of some height. "I'm not hurt," he assured her. "Just damn tired."
"Doctor Gillam is secured," Chase said, presumably speaking to Richmond and the others. "I have him."
As they emerged from the shed Leo said, "They forced me to go with them. I think they had a telepath with them."
"Commander Richmond'll sort it out, sir."
Richmond was already present. The area around them was lit up from a spotlight aimed their way. Leo tracked it visually to a tower set up by the camp militia. The beam itself was focused on the seven people who'd taken him, the same people he'd convinced Nysha Williams to let in the camp.
All of them were now being secured with tie-straps by Richmond's personnel. Some of the telepath militia were present and watching, many of them looking sternly at the interlopers. A couple even glared Leo's way, as if to scold him for having let these people in.
There was no scolding expression on the face of the one uniformed figure among them. Kusko Al beamed with gratitude and a little bit of satisfaction. Leo approached her and asked the obvious. "It was you, wasn't it?"
"I freed you from the control, yes." Kusko extended a hand, showing it was gripping his lost jacket. "We moved in once you were clear."
"Thank you," he said to her, for both her aid and for returning his jacket.
Once he pulled it on she gestured toward one of the smaller figures among the captives. "The girl's a telepath, a little strong but very untrained."
Leo approached them. The group were glaring his way, and there was no mistaking the frustration and anger there. Even the telepath had a sullen look, which fit her ragged clothing and short, dirtied blond hair. "What's your name?" he asked her.
She pursed her lips and stared at the ground.
"Under ordinary circumstances I'd confine them on the ship," Richmond said, "but this isn't our jurisdiction, and we've already tromped on enough toes with the locals." She turned to a figure that Leo recognized as the bearded Lawton, the man in charge of the telepath militia. "With your permission, sir, I'll have one of our modular runabouts converted into a holding site and flown down."
Lawton nodded. "Go ahead. Just keep them clear from our people."
"Of course." Richmond turned her head toward him. Her cat-like green eyes reflected some of the light striking her, and Leo could tell she was ready to give him an "I told you so". "Doctor, until we know for sure that there are no more security breaches, I'd appreciate it if you returned to the Aurora."
"I'd rather stay, we might have further medical emergencies," he replied.
Richmond sighed. "Then I'd like to keep a guard on you at all times, until we verify why you were targeted and that there are no more threats to your safety."
"I'll assign a couple of mine," Lawton said. "It's our camp, after all."
"Of course." Richmond wasn't entirely satisfied by that, but they'd already pressed the camp leaders enough. Her look to Leo made it clear that if she had her way, he'd be beaming right back at this moment.
Maybe I should, he thought, feeling the exhaustion coming back as his body used up the released adrenaline. But I might be needed. We've still got some critical cases. "I'm ready to go back to bed."
Lawton turned to his people. Without a word two of them, an African-American woman and a tan-skinned man, stepped forward, assault rifles still in their arms. "This way, Doctor," the woman said.
Leo fell in, forcing himself to stay walking with much of his waning energy. What a day...
Unlike Leo Richmond had no choice on going back to the ship, not given the security situation being so unsettled. She'd have to settle for resting on the runabout Brahmaputra and its bunks.
But her bunk had to wait. The Aurora operations staff's hard work was on display, as they'd turned the modular runabout's rear cargo section into a makeshift brig. There was just enough room to provide each prisoner with a cot and some room to stretch, with forcefield cubes barring them from interacting.
The accommodations only barely met regulations on emergency confinement. She already dreaded filing the seven separate Emergency Confinement Report forms that would have to go across Captain Kaveri's desk.
Under her direction one of the seven, a large man with the kind of face made for the perpetual scowl on it, was escorted into the middle living section of the Brahmaputra. Officer Chase and another of her squad, Security Officer Hrelu Sat, brought the cuffed man to a chair and set him down in front of Richmond and Lawton. He glared hatred at them both.
"Please state your name."
The glare didn't stop. His mouth didn't move.
Richmond crossed her arms. "You attempted to kidnap an Alliance Stellar Navy officer. We'd like to know why. Cooperate and maybe we'll let you go."
The mouth twisted into a sneer. "I don't talk to puppets," he said, his deep voice smug. He leveled his eyes at the telepath camp's security chief. "You want to speak, lab rat, use the voice God gave you, not your new toy."
Her curiosity at this remark was answered by Lawton. "He thinks I'm controlling you telepathically." Lawton chuckled. "That's how these banals view the world."
"I've seen what you psifreaks do to people who get in your way," the man growled.
"He's singing a song in his head over and over," Lawton continued. "Some folksy old-time music. It's a placebo, he knows it can't stop me."
"You really like talking to yourself, don't you, tube baby?"
"I get it, another slur." Richmond sighed. "You're the kind of man who gets very aggressive when he's terrified, aren't you?" At seeing the telltale flicker in his intense brown eyes, she nodded and grinned. "Because that's what you are. Terrified. This is the defiant courage of the hopeless, and to be honest, I find it overwrought and melodramatic."
The sneer turned into a snarl. "You going to talk all night through this poor lady you've puppeted, lab rat? Too afraid of a prisoner to speak to me? Or are you just glorying in the moment, you sick sadistic bastard?!"
"I'm more amused by the blind bigotry fueling your terrific ignorance," Lawton retorted. "Commander RIchmond is speaking of her own volition, and her people are here helping us of their own free will."
"Like hell they are. They're run by a bunch of alien psifreaks, we already know that much!" the man raved. "And now her alien master's letting you play with them! You want my name? You want anything? Why don't you just rip it from my head?! Why don't you just break my mind down like you do to… to…"
She could tell something was wrong when the sentence trailed off. The man started to cough violently. Panic flashed through his eyes as the coughing fit continued. When it stopped, his body began to shiver and he keeled over in the chair.
"Get a corpsman, now!" Richmond ordered her people, kneeling down to inspect the man. Spotting something along his neck, she pulled back the collar of his jacket.
Blue lines and sores stood out on his reddened flesh.