“no, I have one last task to accomplish, I have to bury a true hero, one who fought and died to save me; I owe him that at least.”
“We can return as soon as the medics have taken a look at you,” Michael quickly realised she was badly traumatised by what she had witnessed down in the dark corridors of that place.
Michael turned his attention to Nikolai, “any survivors down there?”
“None comrade,” my men are bringing the bodies up now, he shook his head solemnly, “it’s like a slaughterhouse down there.”
Michael managed to carry the badly injured Kathryn into his shuttle, despite her objections, “Michael we can’t just leave them down there?”
“We are not going to Kathryn, we have to transfer the bodies to the ships in orbit, so they can have a proper burial.”
She noticeably calmed after hearing this, slumping exhausted into the co-pilot’s chair, and resting her leg gingerly. Michael studied her for a moment, she looked tired, drawn, he guessed after three days of going through what she had just gone through, anybody would be.
He wanted to ask her, if she would consider re-joining the Liberty crew, but decided against it. Right now Kathryn wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind, instead he would silently watch over her, but at the same time give her the space she needed to get over these recent events.
The remainder of the commandoes were to be transported on a separate shuttle, save two who would travel with the Dracos prisoners as an escort, while they were being transported to the Eisenhower’s brig until Michael could contact E.D. F command, who could advise on what to do with them.
That left the last remaining shuttle to transfer the bodies to the E.D. F ships waiting in orbit, of the sixteen scientists and guards that were stranded on that god forsaken planet. Only Kathryn had survived, not to mention another nine commandoes who died in the rescue attempt, twenty six lives lost, plus whatever casualties the Liberty had sustained; it had proven to be a dark day for the E.D.F.
The gravitic engines thrummed into life again, kicking up another great whirl of dust, just as Michael’s wrist comm. chirped, it was commander Ruiz. “Once we’ve got all this straightened out, I’ll see you back at the ship.”
“Yeah, no problem, it will be a little while before the Liberty is space worthy again, the old girl has taken quite a beating.”
“Fantastic, I’ll see you soon. I look forward to catching up on old times.”
“Me too commander,” Michael said before ending the transmission with a press of a red stop key on his wrist communicator.
The shuttle gently lifted off as Michael increased thrust to the boosters, with a loud roar the craft raced skywards.
Nikolai and the surviving commandoes all filed into the second craft, piloted by Maddox. Who decided that he would hang back slightly from the prisoner shuttle, keeping his forward mounted gatling laser trained upon it. If those prisoners did attempt to gain control of the craft, he would blast the thing out of the sky.
Fortunately, the return trip wasn’t as eventful as Ben thought it might be, they returned to the awaiting Eisenhower and Arizona without incident.
The Dracos prisoners were quickly escorted under armed guard to the Eisenhower’s brig, they were strangely quiet and subdued, not making a single move or effort to break free.
Kathryn benefited from the Eisenhower’s larger, moderately more advanced, and well stocked med-lab, a female officer perused the injured leg. The razor sharp wire from the Dracos silencer had sawn its way through her flesh, sliced her calf muscle virtually in half, severed her achilles tendon, and even scored a deep gouge into the bone itself.
The young medical officer stepped quietly out of the med-bay and made her way towards a waiting Michael, who was watching over her from an on-looking waiting room.
“She’ll need surgery, the damage is extensive. If we don’t operate she may never be able to walk on that foot again.”
“Do what you must,” Michael replied gravely, he cared about her a great deal, remembering the time when he rescued her from Delta base during the Krenaran war, just a young nineteen year old ensign, barely out of medical school and out of her mind with fear. He watched as she had to endure the personal torture of operating on wounded and sometimes dead friends during the war, a part of him felt responsible in that too.
The medical officer nodded gently, and as quietly as she left, re-entered the sterile room, a team of six other surgeons gradually surrounded Kathryn, he watched as they administered an anaesthetic, and the still relatively young medical officer slowly fell into unconsciousness.
Michael felt himself wince as a tiny laser cutter made the first incision, the fold of skin around her blood soaked wound, peeled back in two halves, just like the skin of an over-ripened fruit, exposing the delicate damaged muscle tissue underneath. A suction pipe was used to clear away the excess blood, precious minutes ticked by as Michael watched the operation being performed, occasionally he would look away, the pain almost too much to bear.
He remembered Kathryn having to perform harder, more complex operations than this throughout the war. Often on her friends and people she really cared about under intense pressure. For the first time he truly experienced what she must have felt, no wonder she quit the medical profession in the end, Michael doubted that he would be able to stomach it for long either.
A small injection of protonase was injected directly into the back of her shin bone to promote bone growth and slowly re-grow the damaged parts of bone. One of the surgeons held a small sonic oscillator over the muscle tissue. It gave off a gentle thrumming noise as the tiny waves of sound worked to relax the damaged muscle tissue. Minute microscopic implants were carefully inserted around this severed tissue, working to repair the damage, as well as emit tiny, controlled bursts of electricity into the surrounding muscle fibres. It would feel very much like the sensation of pins and needles. These would cause muscle spasms, the constant contracting and relaxing of the calf muscle would help to speed up its re-growth. It was a technique only recently come into practice within the medical profession, called micro-static therapy.
Michael continued to watch the surgeons at work, both in awe and wincing as he imagined the pain Kathryn must be going through.
The severed achilles tendon was an altogether different prospect, if the surgeons could not repair the damage, Kathryn would never be able to walk with that foot again. This would require a previously experimental technique in medical science, known as servo-assistance. It involved placing a pair of tiny servos, no bigger than a pinhead, and attaching them to the tendon via degradable sutures. The servo would assist the severed tendon to move the foot, though the servo would pull ever so slightly harder on the tendon each time, in order to aid in its natural re-growth.
Michael watched as the surgeons performed the most delicate and complex of all the operations, one that had never even been attempted before. The concentration and dedication lining each and every one of their faces was plain to see. In a way, he wished he was in there with them, yet he was a ship captain, medical techniques were not his forte. He could fly a ship halfway around the galaxy, yet this tiny operation was beyond him, he felt the whole experience humbling.
Nikolai eventually found his way inside the viewing booth to join him, “how is she doing comrade?”
“The operation is almost over, the techniques used, the way they work, it’s incredible to watch.”
“I know, one of ours; Razor, is having an augmented hand attached on the Arizona.”
“I’m sorry about the losses you took Nikolai, I know the men in your unit are close to you.”
“It goes with the territory, every single commando knows the risk when he enlists, they have no regrets.”
“So what will happen now?”
“Well,” Nikolai gave off a gentle sigh, “once we are all finished here, it will be off to Alpha-centauri for de- briefing.” The Russian gave off a deep growl of a yawn, “But, I’ll tell you something comrade. I never want to have to come up against those Dracos again. They give me the creeps, can come out of absolutely anywhere, and are so well trained, so fast and acrobatic. You could be patrolling happily one second, and you’ve just lost a squad member the next. As night fighters, I don’t think I’ve ever seen better.”
“Let’s just hope we don’t have to fight them again.”
