Chapter 9

All was quiet on the ship after everything had calmed down and everyone was settled in. Emily was sitting next to Mikes' bed in Med bay, watching his chest rise and fall in even breaths. She'd had been watching over him for the last three hours, furious with him for being so stupid, but also happy that he was safe and sound back on the ship. When they first found the ruined ship, they didn't know what to expect from it. Both Emily and Jack suited up in their combat armor, readying themselves for the rescue mission. Mitch opted for staying behind on the ship, 'to watch their backs', Jack suspected that he was afraid, though he could see the logic of having someone on the ship monitoring the situation in case it got worse. Once the ships were docked together, Jack was first to cross over as the point man. He was armed with one large plasma rifle, and three pulse grenades. Emily brought up the rear loaded down with a hand held plasma pistol, a first aid kit, and her Breaker blade. Jack moved five meters from the air lock, sweeping his plasma rifle back and forth slowly scanning the area for any unfriendlys. The sound of her own breath echoed inside Emily's helmet. The lighting outside the airlock was dim to say the least; she activated her suit's menu and switched over to night vision. The once dim and shadowy hallway now became as bright as day, if day happened be lime green, that is. Still with the annoying color she could see very clearly. Emily switched on her comm unit and told Jack to switch over to night vision, if he hadn't already done it.

"Hey guys, there's a small containment field round the cargo bay, the scanners are picking up several life forms," commed Mitch.

"Roger," replied Jack.

"Check it out and try to keep the channel clear Mitch, you don't know who might be listening." Emily said. "Jack, switch on your stealth camoflage, we don't know what we'll find."

"Humph," was all of the reply that Emily heard, though she could have sworn that she heard him mumble, "Ya, mien fuehrer." For the time being she let it be, now was not the time to start a brawl. She was still surprised that there was still artificial gravity on board this piece of shit. They needed to find Mike quickly, before something else happens. Suddenly, Nightshade wailed like a banshee, Emily dropped her pulse pistol to the deck and tried to cover her ears. It was a futile gesture at best. First off, her helmet would have prevented her from ever reaching her ears. Secondly, the wail, was in fact, telepathic in nature. Not even the helmet, with its advanced technology, could block out this mental anguish. Sweat started to pour down her forehead, dripping into her eyes, the salty liquid stinging in her eyes. The wailing combined with the sweat was really starting to piss her off. That was slowly turning into rage, red hot rage, boiling her blood like never before. It boiled straight into her brain, bashing into the confines of her skull. Emily could only see red at the moment, everything else just faded away. There was only 'The Red' now, a vast endless vista, with no beginning and no end. In this moment, one which Emily would look back upon years later, as a moment when she understood everything that the Universe has to offer. Emily was pulled back from the brink of oblivion by something or someone.

"Emily, I need you, I don't know how long I'll last like this," Emily knew this voice, but couldn't see where they were.

"Emily, HELP ME PLEASE!!" pleaded the voice.

A single thought, more powerful then preserving one's self, she needed to help this poor soul. With all of her will power, Emily concentrated on getting back to reality. Instinct took over, and she imagined a bright sphere of light forming around her head. Slowly but surely, 'The Red' faded away into the ether, as her eyes began to come back into focus. Several large lumpy shapes came into her field of vision; someone was shaking her, almost hysterically.

"Alright, alright I'm up. You can stop shaking me now."

"Jesus mother-fucking Christ, you scared the shit right out of me, Em" exclaimed Jack, or the funny blob that looked like him.

"How long have I been out?" she asked.

"Just under two minutes. I mean, all of a sudden you screamed, grasped your head and fell down."

"So, you didn't hear Nightshade screech at all?"

"No." was all the answer she got.

She started to take in her surroundings and noticed three people standing behind Jack. Jack explained that the three behind him heard her scream all the way from the cargo bay and when they came to investigate; they found Jack crouched over Emily. At first they thought he had attacked her, then, they realized he was trying to revive her. When he turned around, they recognized the combat suit and knew he was with the other one.

At the mention of the 'other one', Emily mind snapped back to the reason they were there. She clambered to her feet, gathered up the med-kit and her pulse pistol.

"Where is the other one, dressed like us?" she demanded.

The three strangers were taken aback by her abruptness. One sputtered that he had gone towards the bridge to call for help. Without hesitating, Emily turned and ran back the way she came. Jack, meanwhile, stayed behind to keep an eye on their new guests. Emily ran like her life depended on it, well more like Mike's life anyway. She only had a vague idea where the bridge was located. Any wrong turn could spell disaster for Mike. Emily was running on instinct, deciding which path to take, and hoping she was right. It appeared that luck was with her this day. She made a right turn and twenty feet along the corridor was the communication station. At first she didn't see Mike, but as she drew closer to the station she saw a pair of legs jutting from an open access panel. Emily began to run toward the panel, panic bloomed in her mind. She grabbed his legs and pulled with all her strength. Slowly but surely, more of Mikes' body began to reappear. When he was completely out of the access panel, she brought out the med-kit and ran the hand held medical scanner on top of his chest. The reading indicated that there was no pulse, no breath sounds, nor was there a heartbeat. She could do anything here, she had all of the necessary equipment, but there was no atmosphere in this compartment. The nearest one was all the way back at the cargo bay. She couldn't drag him all the way there; there was only one real choice at this point.

"Mitch come in please," said a panicky Emily

"Here, over." "Look, I need an emergency matter transport right now to the med-bay back on the ship."

"Shit Em, that's risky at best, I haven't tested that fucking thing yet. You two could end up spliced together or have your molecules spread across half the sector."

"Mitch just fucking do it! I don't have the time to worry about 'what ifs'. Mike needs to get into the med-bay right now."

"Alright, here goes nothing."

For a few seconds Emily felt tingling sensations run across her body, and her vision became kinda fuzzy. She had latched her hand on his forearm, so during the transport she would be brought along for the ride. When her vision finally cleared, they were in the med-bay. Emily did a quick check on herself to see if anything was missing or misplaced. Everything was as it should be; she glanced up to see Mike already on one of the beds. Emily start to remove the suit from his upper torso without much difficulty, then started the auto-doc. All she could do now was wait and see if the auto-doc could bring Mike back. The auto-doc scanned Mike's prone form, mostly centered on his chest area. The scans were sent to a monitor next to the bed, his brain activity was still high, but unless they could get him breathing again he'd be dead in less than five minutes. The auto-doc shocked Mike's chest, his limp body flailed for two seconds, and there was a single beep from the monitor, though there was no improvement of his condition. It went to a higher setting and shocked Mike again, this time there were two beeps from the monitor, than three. His heart started to beat on its own. A breathing mask came out of the auto-doc and attached it to his face. After two minutes of forcing air into his lungs, Mike started to breath on his own; the auto-doc stated that he would make a full recovery with only a two percent chance of brain damage. Emily plopped her ass down into a nearby by chair, tired from the excitement that had occurred. The auto-doc would inform her if there were any changes in his condition. All she could do now was wait for him to wake up. Finally after three hours of unconsciousness, Mike finally began to come around.