Pelona carefully gathered all the supplies they would need just in case they would have to do more autopsies. Since they were now targeting the central nervous systems with an MRI, it was highly unlikely but it was always good to be prepared. She also couldn't help but wonder about the brief but tremendous dialog she had with Harrvok last night but decided that would have to wait for later. Right now she had a job to do.
"Ow!" Pelona winced as her grasp on the scalpel slipped and the sharp instrument cut a small but deep gash across her hand. Gingerly, she found the first aid supplies and applied the proper amount of medigel and bandaged the wound. She silently scolded herself to be more careful and focus. This was not a time to be distracted, time was of utmost importance here.
"What happened to your hand?" Harrvok asked as Pelona carried the tray into the lab. Harrvok had arrived earlier and was readying one of the cadavers into the bed of the MRI.
"Accidentally nicked it with the scalpel. Have you started running tests on them yet?" Pelona asked quickly, trying to draw attention away from her carelessness. Harrvok pointed a talon at two bodies separated from the others.
"Scanned those two and just got the results of the third one in the machine."
"What did you find?"
"So far, they all look exactly like this." the Turian answered, showing her the latest electronic scan on the brain. Pelona was quietly disturbed by what she saw. They all showed the same extensive and horrific brain damage, dark spaces caused by the absence of brain tissue.
"I'm willing to wager I'll find similar results in the others at this rate." Harrvok stated.
"Right. I'll go check on the samples we took. Maybe we'll have a positive somewhere." Pelona announced, walking off to another section of the labs.
--
She had once asked Lucas, who was a bit of a historian, to explain the battle of Shiloh, at least she assumed it was the battle of Shiloh since most Alliance frigates were named after important human conflicts. Jima then learned, as best as Lucas could pull from old military history classes, that the Battle of Shiloh occurred long ago in the late 1800s during what was called the American Civil War. The two opposing armies clashed at an area surrounding an old church which happened to be called "Shiloh." Jima found it odd that they would name a particularly vicious and pointless sounding battle after a place of worship, much less one whose name meant "Peace." When she asked Lucas why the Humans didn't do better research on their linguistics, Lucas just shrugged and suggested they probably didn't too much care.
The Quarian only momentarily thought on the irony on how her last name was in fact an archaic Human word with a meaning that was generally at odds with what it was known for, much less the purpose of the ship that bore its name. However, she liked to think that her own vocations were synonymous with Shiloh. Protecting life, bringing peace and being a physician were similar, right? No time to get philosophical, the brilliant steak that was the Shiloh flickered into a twinkling metallic object in the nightly sea as the ship slowed down from faster than light speed. Jima walked from her place behind Talana towards the comm room. She passed Dolphos and Julland on the way.
"Julland, make sure we find a landing zone as close as possible to the medical team's headquarters. I'm going to try and get as much information from them as we can now that we're within communications range." Jima announced.
"Yes, Spectre." Julland saluted and immediately started coordinating with Talana and Dolphos on the terrain maps.
Stepping into the comm room, she opened a link to the ground site. The Council had notified her that the medical personnel were aware of her imminent arrival and were preparing accordingly. Jima found herself staring at a monitor that held the image of the medical team's chief physician and overseer. Apparently, it was a Human male, a certain Doctor Philip Hiprotos. The aging if firm looking doctor regarded her with an air of cooperation as he nervously ran his hand through a full set of silvery gray hair.
"Ah, Doctor and Spectre Jima...ah, Riznah vas Shiloh?" Hiprotos obviously read from an off screen data pad.
"One and the same. You may either call me 'Spectre' or 'Doctor Jima.'" Jima announced helpfully.
"The news of the Council sending you has been a real moral boost to us all. We've really been at the mercy of whatever this thing is and I keep losing more doctors to it. I'd almost say that this thing has become more of the hunter and we the prey. That's especially insidious since its just some kind of pathogen." Hiprotos grumbled.
"I hope to find out soon. How much data do you have on this agent?" Jima asked.
"Unfortunately, not much. My researchers have been working day and night but we've only just figured out the cause of death. We still don't know what kind of pathogen this is. Here is what little data we were able to collect. I will upload it to your computers now. If there is anything else you need to know, which I doubt there will be anything else to explain, we can discuss it when you're on the ground." the Human suggested, a small electronic beep on Jima's console announced the arrival of the files.
"Thank you, Doctor Hiprotos. The Shiloh will be landing soon and we'll be giving you a hand. Shiloh out." Jima cut off communication and immediately started scanning the information before her. A nagging thought reminded her about the mercenaries that were rumored to be in the area. She would have to make more formal plans about that with Julland and Lucas later.
Down in the lower section of the Shiloh, Dalora finished up on her final touches on the ship's Mako rover. She glanced up at Lucas who was sitting on the wing of his star fighter, the wings folded in when stowed away to allow for more space. She could tell he was taking the warning on the mercenaries seriously because he was already decked out in his camouflaged Predator M armor. He apparently was already done inspecting his experimental sniper rifle, notably designated as the "Dante." It was a subtle play with words since it could only fire high explosive rounds and was designed to rapidly expend the heat, allowing for a much higher cool down time and therefore, higher fire rate. Now, Lucas was inspecting his seven inch survival knife.
Lucas quietly regarded the deadly keen edge of the blade, promised by the manufacturer to be specially treated and reinforced titanium sharpened to a mono-molecular edge. Kassa Fabrications apparently knew how to make their survival knives, simply taking the classic design of a sloping then straight curved edge with a clipped straight edge on top. The bottom and clipped edges met into a disastrously sharp point. The end result was a multi purpose blade that was useful for slashing away parachute lines, splitting wood for kindling or simply cutting into flesh or making a single, fatal thrust into organic arteries or Geth sensitive machine points. The only reason he bought it was because of the rather jaded if well meant warning from his old instructor when he was first retrained as a special forces ranger.
"I don't care what any other knucklehead told you. It doesn't matter how powerful our element zero high velocity guns are. That ain't gonna stop some over sized Krogan, Geth or Thresher maw no matter how many rounds you pour into them. If they get up close to you, be more inclined to beat them with the butt of your rifle..." The younger Lucas had glanced at his rifle and found it woefully lacking. He decided he wanted something sharper with an equally atrocious point.
The commando now wondered if the faithful blade would once again be stained with red.
"What are you thinking about?" Dalora asked, her head craned up to at Lucas from her place on the floor.
"I'm wondering if I need to get this knife sharpened." They both turned when the elevator arrived, apparently carrying both Jima and Julland.
"We'll be landing soon. You both ready?" Julland asked, preparing the electronic monocle on his left eye.
"Calm down, Julland. I don't think we'll be shooting anything yet." Jima soothed.
"I doubt so too, but you never know." the Turian answered.
"In fact, live weapons may only further aggravate our problem. Remember how I told you bullets can cause tissue and fluid sprays that can aerosolize various particles?" Jima asked. Lucas, Dalora and Julland both nodded solemnly.
"Well, once again we don't know what the pathogen is. You think it would be a good idea to randomly be causing messy biological sprays with those circumstances?"
"...Guess not." Dalora murmured, voicing the sentiments of everyone else. They suddenly heard Talana's voice of the intercom.
"Landing zone in sight, Spectre. Touch down in three...two...one..."
--
Dr. Hiprotos waited outside the main compound of the headquarters. A passing thought of having the last two field agents he had standing at attention with him with their pistols on hand but he decided that was just a frivolous formality. For crying out loud, they were just doctors, not soldiers. They were trained to hunt down bacteria, viruses and parasites. Whatever it was that got Eulias and Siera, and he was certain something got them, it wasn't a bacteria, virus or parasite. He knew his doctors were good but shooting guns and fending off hostiles that were macroscopic were not part of their list of talents.
"That's what these people are for." the doctor thought nervously as he watched the distant bay door of the Shiloh open followed by four figures stepping off the ramp. He wasn't quite sure what to make of what he saw. Of course he had heard that Spectre Jima was both a doctor and a Quarian but perhaps the full gravity of the fact did not hit him until she was standing right there in front of him. Like most Quarians, she was shorter and of lighter build than most humans. She had a slim figure with slight curves in the proper places. However, her rank of Spectre seemed to be screamed by the light but solid Colossus model armor she was encased in. He caught the two dim orbs of what were probably her eyes looking back at him, almost cheerfully, as Jima started speaking to him.
"Don't worry too much about the armor, just a precaution that my XO convinced me to take. His name is Commander Julland Sarrix." Jima motioned towards the tall and well built Turian standing next to her. This Turian, Julland, certainly intimidated the crap out of Dr. Hiprotos. In contrast to Jima, Julland seemed more stern and well acquainted with the burden of command. Superficially, aside from the well toned musculature and one or two stray scars that made up Julland's physique, the Turian also had white tribal markings, just simple lines, that ran up from his forehead to his head plumes. Only two horizontal ones ran on his face which seemed to emphasize his eyebrows. He also glanced at the extremly unconcealed weapons the soldier was carrying. Camouflaged Predator H armor, a full assortment of Spectre weapons, at least Dr. Hiprotos was certain they were Spectre weapons, and several grenades attached to his waist. The Turian was a walking armory.
"I'd also like you to meet Lucas Von Seraph and Dalora Algre. They're part time on my crew." Jima explained.
Lucas seemed just slightly less imposing than Julland but Hiprotos decided that the man was probably a little more shifty, especially since he only noticed an unconventional looking sniper rifle on the man's back. Hiprotos was not a soldier but he heard plenty of stories about the sniper types. The large military blade on the man's hip made the doctor shudder. Such an over sized, brutish spin off of the scalpel. Besides Jima, Dalora seemed like the only pleasant one out of the group, a braid tied into a bun behind her head, but even she wore a white Ursa armor with an equally foreboding Sokolov shotgun behind her back. Was Jima the only doctor the Council sent?
"I understand that you may want to send out a search and rescue group, but we're not expecting any need for firearms." Hiprotos stated carefully.
"If only you knew, which you probably shouldn't." Jima thought.
"Standard equipment, I couldn't make these three part with them. I can't say I blame them since their equipment saved their lives on numerous occasions." Jima rationalized.
"With all due respect, a gun isn't going to stop a pathogen." Hiprotos protested.
"I understand, Doctor. I'll have a talk with my crew later. In the meantime, lets get started with the medical stuff, shall we?" the Quarian said quickly, trying to calm the already fidgety doctor as they walked towards the compound. Jima gave Julland a discreet nod just before the door shut behind her and Doctor Hiprotos. Julland sprung into action.
"Dolphos, are you maintaining radar scans on the nearby area?" Julland asked into his communications array.
"Affirmative, most esteemed Commander. Nothing has registered yet, over."
"Very well, let me know as soon as you get something."
"Understood." with that, Julland turned to Lucas.
"Prepare your fighter and run a large patrol over the area. Keep your eye on your radar for contacts. Jima will notify you as soon as you get clearance to do a flyby over the quarantine area."
"It will be done, sir." Lucas saluted, heading back towards the Shiloh.
"What about me?" Dalora asked.
"You're with me."
"So what are we doing?"
"For now? Waiting." Julland shrugged.
--
Knowledge is power. Knowledge is also money. Money is also power. So are guns. That was the general line of thinking for Dorian McDowell. The medium sized human with a gruff face and deceptively calm demeanor was the leader of a certain paramilitary organization. Under his quiet composure was what some would describe as a diabolical personality. He refrained from calling his outfit a mercenary group. Mercenaries were unsophisticated and did not carry the full understanding of what his group was about. McDowell understood that there was a profit to be made out of war and conflict, you just had to be smart about it. Like any good entrepreneur, you also needed to be innovative. His well greased organization of information contacts had suggested this promising looking venture. Heaven's knew how many credits any band of fighters, mercs or terrorists would pay to get their hands on a biological weapons. The more established cooperations could not meet their shady demands. Dorain McDowell could.
He liked to call himself an information commander. He needed a regular feed of information that was constantly up to date. From there, it was a matter of him being able to decipher and make quick calls, constantly looking ahead. That's what kept him and those he kept on his payroll alive. He was often told that he had a sharp mind and could often predict anything three steps ahead of most other people. It was that talent that troubled him at the moment.
Finding and stealing a small sample of whatever this new pathogen was wasn't the problem. The new Asari he enlisted sitting in front of him was the source of his discomfort. The only thing he could read about her was that she was unpredictable. Dangerous unpredictable. He needed to fix that. He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to get comfortable in his heavy Mercenary armor.
"So, what made you want to sign up on my crew?" Dorian asked the Asari. The woman only kept her confident smile as she continued to work the controls in front of her. She would be landing the shuttle craft.
"I was bored. Needed some fun." the Asari answered. Dorian rolled his eyes, keeping his skepticism. Typical answer that most mercenaries would say. The problem was that a small hint of his brain told him this Asari was actually being serious. Dangerous serious.
"Any other reasons?" Dorian drilled.
"Itchy trigger finger. Need to get back in shape. Also could use a few spare credits."
"Well, let me tell you something. We're professionals, not regular run of the mill cutthroats. I need you to be serious."
"Why do you think I chose to sign up with you guys? I did the research. I'm being serious too." the Asari replied, a cheeky smile across her face. This only further discomforted Dorian.
"Good. What's your name then?"
"Liana." the Asari replied, still with that confounded pompous smile!
"Well, bring us down, Liana. We got us a sickness to find." Dorian mumbled. He quietly noted that Liana's demeanor changed just a little bit when he said "sickness." He'd have to look into that later.