Jack finished laying out the skeleton’s bones on the deck and stared at his attempt at putting this particular puzzle together. Whatever it was, it was not human. Nor was it Omegan- the structure of the skull, the height of the body, all too small to be one of the enemy. “Not this particular enemy,” Jack corrected himself.
But curiosity had to wait. Jack picked up his tools and began working on repairing cannon three. This was war- discipline had to come first. Lack of discipline could mean death… an irony that left Jack shaking his head.
Kate reached the Omegan morgue and opened the door. She moved into the room carefully, gun pointed and at the ready in case a survivor had found refuge within. However, the room checked out clear, and she holstered her sidearm. Looking around, she did a quick assessment of the room- the walls were full of panels, small controls situated next to each one, and each panel had a data readout in its center. She approached one and studied it for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and tapping the comm. “F.A. to all points. I don’t suppose any of you reads Omegan?”
The system was silent for a beat before Wilma’s voice spoke up. “Mr. Drake does. But…”
“Shit!” Kate yelled. “Sorry. Okay, thanks. Back to it. Bye,” she said, closing the comm. link. She leaned her head against the wall for a moment, pondering her next move. “Bleah. Fine,” she thought. “trial and error it is. I’ll start with the obvious and go from there.”
Her hands began to tap buttons on the controls. Eight minutes passed before the panel slid open and revealed the body of a dead Omegan. She tugged on the body and it floated free of its compartment. “Huh. Really is just like a morgue. Bastards are strangely human in their own way.” She shoved the body back in and closed the panel. “Looks like another ten or so of these are occupied. Might as well get started.”
Five minutes later, Jack’s comm. link sprung to life. “F.A. to Desperado. What in the actual fuck???”
“Bring that one back,” he replied calmly.
Wilma exited the Omegan medlab, pushing a crate full of supplies that would do the War Angel well. Bandages, antibiotics, herbs used to make painkillers… the crossover between Omegan physiology and human physiology was truly a godsend when it came to healing. As she approached the landing bay, she saw Kate pushing a crate of her own towards the shuttle. “Are we all set?” Wilma asked.
Kate’s shoulders dropped, and Wilma realized that the young woman must be exhausted. “After all,” the doctor remembered, “she was forcibly awakened from a sedative-induced sleep. It has to be catching up to her by now.”
“I’m fine, doctor,” Kate rasped. “Just had my fill of this day.”
Wilma’s voice radiated positivity. “We all have. But we’ll be out of here shortly, head for shelter, and rest for a while.” Wilma patted Kate’s shoulder, her hand gently bouncing off the young woman’s pressure suit.
“Ha!” Kate snorted derisively. “That’s what you think.” She tapped the crate she had brought to the landing bay. “This is going to keep all of us busy for a while.”
The doctor approached the crate. “What is it?”
The shuttle doors opened and Kate pushed the crate into its storage area. “Hopefully,” she muttered, “you’ll be able to tell us.”
Sarah stared at the skeleton spread out on the deck. “What the fuck IS that?”
Jack tightened the panel covering cannon three’s circuitry back into place. “That is why cannon three was offline,” he replied.
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Whatever… whomever… this was, he or she was in the interior of the bulkhead. Maybe making a nest, I don’t know. But it knocked wires out, crushed some circuits.”
“Think it was an Omegan plant of some kind?”
“Hard to say. Maybe. If this thing had easy egress to the rest of the ship, it could have certainly sabotaged things easily enough. On the other hand… well, maybe it’s something unknown. I mean, living in the walls is the kind of thing a stowaway would do. Maybe this thing had nowhere else to go.”
Picking up a bone, Sarah examined it carefully. It was smooth, with few striations or hints of damage. “Huh. Well, however it died, either it wasn’t violent or its muscular structure protected must have been impressive. Would be amazing to see one with all the flesh and blood, maybe see what Dr. Gray can make of it.”
Jack smiled. “Your wish is my command.”
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