Chapter 41

DAY 58 – HADES ORBIT – RUZA

Ruza awoke to bright lights, blinking his bleary eyes as they slowly adjusted to the glare. His head ached, and when he reached up a shaky hand to touch it, he found that it was wrapped in gauze. His mouth was dry, and he smelled the familiar stink of sterilizing agents. As his vision began to clear, he saw that he was in a medical facility of some kind. It was filled with modern equipment, and his room was cramped, the harsh lights on the ceiling making him squint. The bed was sized for his species, which was unusual.

As he struggled to sit up and began to glance around, he saw that someone was waiting beside his bed. Even before he could make out their face, the blonde hair revealed their identity. It was Amy.

“Ruza!” she whispered – it was the quietest exclamation he’d ever heard. “You’re awake!”

She leapt from her chair and hurried over to hug him, making him wince as she tweaked his healing bicep.

“S-sorry,” she stammered, stepping back and giving him a beaming smile. “We didn’t know when you might wake up. The doctors said that if it wasn’t for that hard Borealan skull of yours, the damage might have been much worse.”

“Where am I?” he asked, noting the pressure door across the room.

“You’re on the carrier,” she explained. “Ortega brought you here shortly after you were hurt.”

“And... you are here?” he asked, not understanding.

“You’ve been out for a couple of days,” she continued, sounding almost apologetic. “I suppose I should catch you up on what’s been going on.”

“Barbosa!” he hissed, trying to sit up. Amy placed a tiny hand on his chest and eased him back into bed.

“Everything is fine,” she insisted, putting on a soothing voice. “Barbosa is dead – Petrova killed him. Reed is fine, Rivera is fine, Brenner and his agents are fine. Everyone is fine. Not long after all the riots were over, they sent a shuttle to pick us up at the hideout. We were so scared when we saw it that we all hid,” she added with a snicker. “Rivera came and fetched us back to the city. Bergmann and Omar are helping the resistance clean up the mess Barbosa left behind. Bill and Ricky send their regards – they wouldn’t let them come up to the carrier.”

“What about you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can be very persuasive, and I have friends in high places,” she replied, planting her hands on her hips and turning up her nose. “Besides, someone needed to stay by your bedside, and everyone is so damned busy. Reed has taken it upon himself to be the face of the resistance, of course. He’s been coordinating with Bergmann and the Governor to get supplies flowing again. I think the poor Governor would have been eaten by the mob if Reed hadn’t intervened and vouched for him. We’ve been freeing the loyalist PDF from the garrisons, and Omar is organizing them so they can restore order to the colony. I think most of the carrier’s crew has already been returned. Petrova has been acting as an intermediary between the Navy and any holdouts to make sure they surrender peacefully, and Brenner has been rooting out any remaining Borgs. There are still people holed up in some of the underground shelters trying to wait us out.”

“What of you?” he asked. “You have skills that are indispensable.”

“Oh, I’ve been crunching numbers and working out how to distribute all the food we’ve captured,” she said as she waved a tablet computer at him. “I can do that from here. With everything the Borgs had stashed in the garrisons, we should be able to get food to everyone who needs it.”

“Can we avert a famine?”

“I believe so, if we’re careful,” she clarified. “It’ll still be a few months before the relief fleet arrives, so we’ll have to be cautious. Barbosa didn’t take all of our problems with him when he died.”

“If Petrova cast the fatal blow, I hope that any doubts surrounding her loyalty have been assuaged,” Ruza continued. “She has fought hard and endured much.”

“She’s been sticking with Brenner and the others,” Amy replied. “Wasp, Silverback, Komodo – those guys. I think she’s safe with them. It’s funny – the Borgs feel more alien to me than you do. It’s like they’re a different species sometimes with the way they act.”

“They are a different breed, one might say,” he replied. “What of the aliens?” he asked.

“Harlequin has been hanging around with Brenner’s people,” Amy continued. “Lily has been piloting shuttles to and from the carrier to help with food deliveries from its stores. We’re short on pilots, and it gives her something to do. I think she feels a little useless without her Warrior. The locals were a little leery of them at first – most of them have never met a Jarilan before, but they’re warming up to them. You can only be suspicious of someone who’s feeding you for so long, I suppose.”

“Have you seen Reggie?”

“He’s done destroying whatever property he keeps yammering about,” she said with a shrug. “Other than that, I’m not sure what he’s been doing. He’s not the best conversationalist. Do you think he can ... watch movies inside that suit or something? Oh!” she added, a thought occurring to her. “I should let everyone know that you’re awake!”

She sent a message on her tablet, and it wasn’t long before one of the ship’s doctors was shining a small flashlight in Ruza’s eyes, checking his pupillary response and reading information off the monitoring equipment beside his bed.

“Follow the light, please,” the human said as he waved the tool back and forth. “Very good. Doctor Ruza, you’ve suffered from a rather severe concussion, but I’m not seeing any indications of permanent damage. As a fellow medical professional, I don’t think I need to impress upon you how important it is to limit your physical activities over the next few days and get some rest.”

“I have been asleep for two days,” Ruza complained. “There is much to do.”

“And you’ll need to take it easy for a few more,” the doctor insisted sternly. “Symptoms may last for a week or two.”

“It’s time to let someone else take care of things for a while,” Amy added as she leaned around the doctor. “You’ve earned a vacation. The colony will get along just fine without you while you heal up.”

“Let me take a look at your arm,” the doctor continued, Ruza watching as he unwound the bandages to reveal a knitting scar. It was held together by an adhesive pad that bridged the cut and kept the wound closed while it healed, the remnants of antiseptic gel discoloring his skin. “You left the medical foam in there for too damned long,” he complained as he probed the site with a gloved finger. “It’s a stopgap, not a cure-all.”

“I had more pressing matters to attend to at the time,” Ruza grumbled.

“We closed up the bleeds in surgery and cleaned out the wound,” the man added. “The blade nicked the bone and narrowly missed a major artery. I’m always surprised both by how much Borealans bleed and how quickly you heal. This appears to be coming along fine.”

“I smell no rot,” Ruza added, giving the wound a sniff.

“That sense of smell has to be a boon for a doctor,” the man mused. “Alright – I see no reason to keep you. Just follow my advice and take it easy, okay? I’d offer you some post-surgical wound care, but we’re shorthanded right now, and I think you should be able to handle it yourself.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Amy chimed.

Ruza heard the door open, and the doctor stepped aside to reveal a man wearing a pristine white uniform standing in the hallway, a cap perched atop his head. It was Captain Ortega. The last time that Ruza had seen him, he’d been wearing a flight suit after ejecting from his plane.

“I heard you were up and about, so I thought I’d come down and pay you a visit,” he announced as he stepped through the door, pausing to greet Amy and the doctor. “Don’t sit up on my account,” he added as Ruza attempted to rise from his bed. “Unfortunately, I spent most of this incident locked up in my quarters, but your friends have been singing your praises from the proverbial rooftops. From what they tell me, you’ve been instrumental in organizing the resistance and fighting back against Barbosa practically from the moment his forces made landfall.”

“I simply did what was necessary to protect the colony,” Ruza replied.

“The way I heard it, you personally killed enough of Barbosa’s rogue SWAR agents to populate a platoon, along with more than your share of his PCEs. Half a squadron of dropships, too, apparently,” he added as he appraised the Rask. “You’re quite the shot with an AMR.”

“I operated them during the rebellion,” Ruza explained.

“Is that so?” Ortega continued, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m glad to see you putting that experience to constructive use. I’d like to formally extend the appreciation of my government on this matter. Without you, Barbosa’s invasion might have been much further along by the time Commander Brenner’s team arrived, and their job would have been a lot harder without your assistance.”

“Hear that, Doc?” Amy giggled. “You’re a war hero again.”

“Let’s say a... regrettable internal security incident hero,” Ortega grumbled. “You’ve spared the Admiralty a lot of further embarrassment, and I don’t expect that they’ll forget it anytime soon. Feel free to remind them. Since you’re not part of the auxiliary program anymore, I’m afraid that I can’t offer you any promotions or service medals, but you have my personal assurances that any resources or supplies you require to run your clinic will be provided to you for the duration of my stay here. You will be at the top of the queue – just say the word.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Ruza replied. “I sense that we shall need them.”

“We haven’t even set foot inside the clinic for so long,” Amy sighed. “It feels like a totally different life – like they’re someone else’s memories.”

“Once our medical staff clears you for transport, you’re free to leave any time you wish,” Ortega continued. “I’ll have a shuttle fly you both wherever you’d like to go. Until then, I must ask that you excuse me – there’s much to do. Along with the colony, I have to get my carrier and its crew back in ship shape, and Barbosa has left quite the mess behind. We’re still transporting a steady stream of interned sailors and providing treatment where necessary.”

“May I ask their condition?” Ruza said.

“It seems that violent mistreatment was kept to a minimum, but they’d probably have been given meager rations even without the current food situation,” Ortega said with a grimace of disapproval. “Some have gone down a couple of belt sizes, but we’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”

“What of the SWAR recruits?” Ruza added. “There were many with severe infections.”

“Petrova was very insistent that they be transferred to the carrier for treatment,” Ortega replied. “They’re being cared for in our infirmary by personnel familiar with amputees. I must say, I’m not entirely sure what to do with them. Based on their condition alone, it’s obvious that they were misled, and they’re not Navy personnel. I essentially have custody of a large group of civilians with illegal augmentations that I have no feasible way to confiscate. They don’t seem hostile, but I’m not sure I can just turn them loose.”

“Petrova will know what to do,” Ruza said.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Ortega conceded. “I must go, but just let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he walked back out into the hallway, the door closing behind him.

“I want to run a few more tests, then I’ll clear you for travel,” the doctor said as he picked up where he’d left off. “And tell your pilot to take it easy. The last thing we need is you banging your head if they take a sharp turn.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Amy said, giving Ruza a wink.

It was a relief to see the carrier so full of life. Ruza passed many uniformed personnel on his way to the hangar bay, most of whom must have recently been interned in the garrisons. Those like Rivera that he and the resistance had freed were but a small number of those taken from the ship, and Ortega had said that more were on their way.

One of the hangars was sectioned off, presumably due to damage, so he and Amy boarded a shuttle in the other and rode it down to the ground. Ruza was still a little unsteady on his feet, but it was a relief to smell the warm Hadean air again and to feel its coarse sand beneath his paws. The shuttle had set down in Garrison One, the anchor casting its shadow over the compound, providing some shade from the harsh sunlight. The courtyard bustled with activity, loyal PDF and Marines alike hurrying back and forth between shelters and buildings as they went about their duties. Several more dropships idled on the landing pads, the backwash from their engines kicking up clouds of dust, and the rumble of trucks filled the air as they waited for loading in the parking area. It appeared that supplies were being brought up from the shelters and prepped for distribution.

“The last time I was here, I was fighting a battle,” Ruza muttered as he followed Amy away from the shuttles. There were still signs of what had transpired, and even days later, some of the warehouse fires still seemed to be smoldering. He could smell the acrid fumes on the air. The hole through which they had infiltrated the garrison was still visible across the way, and many of the buildings and gabions were pocked with craters from gunfire.

Amy led him to the control tower at the center of the compound, and they made their way inside, climbing a set of spiraling stairs that led to the top floor. Ruza found himself in a circular room filled with computer consoles and humming servers, the rows of windows that lined the walls looking out over the garrison beyond. There were PDF personnel manning the desks, a few of them looking up from their holographic displays to peer at him.

In the middle of it all, standing over a table that featured a map of the colony, was a familiar face.

“Omar!” Ruza declared loudly, causing a few of the PDF to lean out of his path as he strode past their workstations. He greeted his friend with a hug that he quickly realized was too tight, depositing the flustered human back on the ground.

“Good to see you, Doc,” Omar replied as he straightened his uniform. He was wearing PDF garb again, which told Ruza all he needed to know. “They told us that you were injured in the fighting. I’m happy that you’re walking around again. How’re you feeling?”

“I have been better,” Ruza conceded with a tired smile. “What of you, Omar? Am I to assume that your position has been reinstated?”

“It’s not exactly a promotion,” he replied with a chuckle that seemed more nervous than humorous. “I’m sort of the most senior PDF commander left after all the fighting. They put me in charge of the whole force, and I’ve been working to recapture all of the garrisons and restore order to the city.”