The Black

Cory sat in the infirmary of the USN Galveston in a state of shocked awe. He was alive… His shoulder throbbed through his revelry as he shifted in the chair. He wasn’t hurt that badly considering, His captain had gone behind the double doors of the ships “ICU” room for emergency surgery as well as three of the crew from engineering that were left for dead by the pirates. They had survived. Their Human designed void suits had saved their lives, but only just. Cory overheard that one had taken several laser rifle and pistol rounds in the back and had stopped breathing in one of the other shuttles. The gravity was a touch heavy, but obviously tuned down as was procedure with mixed crews as Galveston now was. He had not had the chance to ask anything, he had just sat down nursing his arm, letting the Human doctors and surgeons do their frantic dance of saving lives. The head of Engineering had walked in for an update. Patrick’s mop of oddly Delmar Auburn hair was soaked through with sweat and he wore an ancient pistol on his hip, whose holster was stained with dried Thermian blood. He came and checked on his people, getting a strangling hug from one of the surviving Delmar females the humans had dubbed “Cammy”. He sat up slightly as a doctor broke from the group and walked straight to him with purpose.

“Name?” she asked quickly.

“Cory… Corelius Grarzia, first officer…” Cory’s absent tone did not go unnoticed.

“This way Mr. Grarzia.” He looked up as her softer tone registered. “Let’s get you patched up. Your sister is in... another... waiting room…” She turned and led him past the mass medical beds and into a private room, and onto a bed. “Wait here, please” she said before disappearing through the door once more. Cory leaned back until his head touched the wall the bed was pushed up next to, heaving a long cleansing breath just as the door blew open as his sister rushed, practically tackling him off the bed.

“Cory!! Gods, Cory…” Was all Gennorra Grarzia Huellins got out before she broke down into sobs. Cory winced at the pain in his shoulder as his sister clung to him.

“Doctor? Where’s Quellin….” Cory got out after a moment, “I didn’t see him in the other room…”

His sister just looked up at him, tears still pouring, “He saved me… they hit engineering… He covered me when they started shooting…” She broke again... Cory pulled her to him with his better arm before looking to the doctor.

“Quellin Grarzia Huellins, the one with multiple energy shot wounds to the back…” the Doctor’s voice was quiet, “He’s still in surgery. I’m sorry, I don’t know any more than that. If he is still in surgery, there is hope. Ms Huellins, please, sit for a moment. Mr Grarzia has not been seen yet” The doctor nodded to Cory’s shattered shoulder, already staining his borrowed “T-Shirt” with blood as his wounds reopened from movement periodically.

His sister nodded weakly, finally releasing him as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. The Doctor approached with a scanner and ran it over his shoulder before nodding, “You should have spoken up sooner, your shoulder blade is shattered into three pieces. The pieces are displaced and will have to be realigned before we can administer the Nanite injection. You’re going to have to go in for surgery; let me see your other arm…” She paused, stepping over to the other side of Cory, “This one missed the bone, you are lucky.” She murmured logging everything into her data pad. “Stay in here, I will get you on the list for surgery.” She turned and departed from the room.

“Gen, I saw Patrick… He looked, scary…” Cory said into the deafening silence of the room.

“He protected the rest of us…. I was in the Maintenance shafts with the rest when he went out with the other humans… I don’t know what happened, but we were rescued shortly after…”

Cory only nodded before sinking back again with his head on the wall behind him. His shoulder was pounding now that he had no distractions… His sister sat with him, clinging to his good hand until the Surgeon arrived.

A tall, for a human, thin man glided into the room wearing a perfectly clean pair of scrubs and wire-rimmed glasses. His mood went from grim to somewhat brighter as he noticed the two of them, “Ah, Two birds with one stone. Corelius Grarzia and Gennora Huellins?” he asked gently.

The two of them looked over and he nodded, “I just finished up with Mr Huellins. He lost a lung, and part of your kind’s kidney, but the suit took the brunt of some of the shots for him. I’ll have a nurse take Ms Huellins to his room once He is given one.” Fresh pain erupted from his shoulder as Cory’s sister broke down into Sobs once more at the news before pulling away with a meek apology.

“Mr Grarzia, you appear to be a particularly hard Delmar to kill, Doctor Young seems to think you took multiple rounds during the incident.” He stated.

“I did, your new style void suits probably saved my life. It was so spent after, they had to cut it off of me.” Cory caught himself in a dark chuckle.

“Ah” The Surgeon murmured as the hover gurney was pushed in, “let’s get you prepped son, your shoulder seems to be the worst of it. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Cory was whisked away moments later and he relaxed some as he recognized Cammy entering. She sat down with sister as he was whisked away.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Patrick O’sullivan sat in the mess hall at a table in the corner of the room. He had not been issued temporary quarters yet. He sat with his gun belt on the table, the two unfired cartridges had been placed in the ancient gun belt’s cartridge loops and the 4 spent cases had been pocketed. Patric sat with his Pop’s ancient Smith sitting empty in front of him, a bottle of soap stolen from the kitchen, and a roll of paper towels, a pitcher of water, and a low single-use cooking tray. His cleaning Kit had been in his things that were still in transit from Celest, but He needed to get the blood and gore off of his family heirloom before it ruined the weapon’s fragile Bluing. He picked up the bottle and was about to get to work when a Drawling voice stopped him.

“Son, that won’t work too well alone. Here” Captain Nico settled into the booth next to him, handing Patrick the engineer's own Pistol cleaning kit, the one from his seabag’s. “I went luggage divin’. Figured you might need this after you got done with the soap.” The Titanic Texan rumbled.

“Thank you, Captain. I need to do something, it helps keep my mind busy…” Patrick slowly resumed, pouring some soap into a glass of water, mixing it with his finger to get the right ratio before removing the rosewood grips and placing the weapon in the tray before covering it in the warm soapy mixture. Letting the concoction sit, he turned to the Man next to him. “Does it get easier? I know they were pirates, but…”

“You’re hating yourself right now. You hate yourself because you didn’t die with the rest. You’re hating yourself because you didn’t save all of em’… and worse of all, you’re hatin’ yourself because you took lives. Sound about right son.” Nico settled into his seat casually watching the room as it slowly filled in for the dinner rush. “Dam unfair of you. You did what you did, you saved lives. You killed some motherfuckers. If it ever gets easier, then you stop being human… You did good, son. You’re not a trained soldier, you were never supposed to have to kill anyone.” The man drawled, even as he nodded to some, and observed others until he noticed someone and smothered a smirk. “If you want to know if you will be able to go back to who you were, I think you know the answer to that, but I’ll tell you one other thing.”

Patrick looked up to see Nico smiling cordially to a familiar Delmar female holding two trays as she made straight for the small bubble of isolation that his weapon, and Nico’s presence had created around his table, “You saved lives. That’s the part that counts the most, and I can think of one adorable little number, who wants to thank you for it.” He murmured to just the two of them before raising his voice to Cammy as she approached, “Evenin’ Mayum. I was just headin’ for the chow line. See ya ‘round…Red.”

Patrick shook Nico’s offered hand before sliding his soapy concoction over to the side, noting that the blood and gore was slowly beginning to rehydrate and lift off of the metal. Cammy slid one of the Trays over to him before settling into the booth next to him. Patric was very tall for a human, standing just tall enough to be half a head taller than most Delmar females. He smiled over before being surprised by a very real peck on the cheek this time. She suppressed a chuckle as she saw his light Irish complexion flush slightly.

Cammy scooted over, until she was sitting slightly against him, “I know what the last one was for, but.” Patrick asked.

“The last one was for luck. This one was a thank you.” She said, “I think I found most of what you like up there.”

“I think you did, I haven’t been over to the infirmary since we got back. Any new news?” He tried to ask calmly. He almost succeeded.

“Quel’s out… He is in their ICU. The doctors think he will live, but the next day will tell more. Gen is with him now. She’s a mess. She told me They Took Cory into surgery for his shoulder. I don’t know about the captain. They rushed her back and hadn’t said anything yet when I left. The rest…” she fell silent, neither one had touched their food.

Both pushed their trays away at the same time, looked at each other, and Patrick let out a snort. Before pulling back over the trey with his father’s revolver in it, “I’m sorry, but if it sits to long…” he said before raising an eyebrow as Cammy pulled his belt over and reached for the towels and the soap.

“No, this is ok. I need to do something with my hands…” she began.

“It keeps your mind from thinking” Patrick finished, catching her small smile, before dipping the towel in the soap/warm water mixture. It wasn’t perfect, but it was what he had. He handed it to her, and she started working on the blood transfer from the gun to the holster.

They worked in silence for a while. Cammy got done first and laid out a towel as Patric pulled the pistol out and started scrubbing. “How much did you see...” he asked quietly, finally giving voice to the one question he feared to ask her.

“All of it…” she said quietly. “Brett and Tony too. I followed you out.”

“I didn’t notice. Are you ok… with what happened? I know your people aren’t known for natural aggression.” Patrick responded.

“I’m ok. I was terrified, but they were trying to blow us up…” She responded, “You had to do it…what are you doing?” She changed the subject just as Patric pulled a screwdriver out of his cleaning kit and began disassembling the pistol.

“This is a very old gun, made long before we mastered the Gauss weapons we have now. I have to pull it apart to get every little bit of gunk out or it will begin to rust… uh, degrade… until it stops working.” He explained as he pulled the swing arm out and disconnected the cylinder, handing it to her to look at. “The soapy water isn’t good for it if I leave it for too long. But it’s all I could find to get the lizard blood off it. I’ll have to dry everything before oiling it heavily to keep it looking nice.

“It shot lots of fire, even in the vacuum… How come it worked if it’s not electrical?” she pulled one of the cartridges from its loop, inspecting it with an engineer’s interest.

“We combined chemicals to produce a calibrated burning low-grade explosives over a thousand years ago. We call them “Propellants”. The propellant powder has its own source of oxygen inside itself. Thats why it still worked.” Patric pulled one of the spent cases out “the primer makes a spark when its hit” showing her the dimple from the hammer, “and sets off the explosives, sending the bullet at the end out of the barrel. The cases also help cool the gun, because they are removed along with the heat they soak up. Kinda like a heat sink.”

“It’s a very… Human weapon” She mused, “Putting a bomb inside a tube in your hand just to throw a shaped rock faster than the speed of sound is so very Insanely Human. It's pretty cool.” She added, putting the cartridge back into its loop, much more carefully this time and Patrick chuckled.

“Don’t worry, it takes a very specific force in a very particular spot to set one off. I could throw one across the room and it would just clank off the deck plating. The propellant is so very particular, that it needs the pressure of the barrel keeping the case from exploding to burn properly. Otherwise, you just get a pop, and maybe a bit of brass in your skin most of the time.” He smiled at her inquisitive look.

His explanation and her help had his pistol as clean as it could be and he began oiling each part and reassembling it before covering it in a thin layer of the Ballistol he was using before replacing it in the holster. “There. That will do until I find out where the armorer on this ship is. I want to run it through a sonic cleaner to be sure.” He stood, picking at his tray a little before throwing the rest away. “Have they told us where we will be bunking?”

“Yea, On deck 23. I have the section saved on my Com.” She said, “I’ll show you” They set off together and she sent the housing roster to his Com. It took them the better part of 15 minutes to get to the right part of the ship. Cam pressed in a code and a door opened to see a small room with sea bags stacked on one side and a set of bunks built into the opposite was. “Enough of us survived that we have to double up. My roomie hasn’t shown up yet….” She paused as she saw a look of abject apprehension on Patrick’s face as he looked up at the room number a second time, “What’s wrong.”

“Uh… I’m... Uh…” Patrick stammered, quickly turning a very vibrant pinky red about the cheeks and neck.

Cam took a peek at his com and then looked back at him in amusement as he finally found his words, “Looks like I’m your bunkmate” He said, he rubbed the back of his head, “It doesn’t look like a mistake either…” He paused as he noticed Camy smirking at him, “what...”

Camy slowly slinked up to him, closing to within millimeters of his face, pressing her body up against his as she put her arms around his waist, and he felt her breath on his neck as she tip-toed slightly to brush his ear with her lips. She felt his breath quicken, slowly leaning in to whisper in his ear, pausing just long enough to feel him reach for her waist, “I get top bunk” she announced and bounced away from him giggling as she ran in and jumped into the top bunk of the room, breaking out into a laugh as she watched realization spread across his features.

“OOH, IT’S ON NOW” He recovered, skewering her with a moderately incensed gaze that only made her laugh more.

__________________________________________________________________________

Mac stepped into the Trenton family home/airstrip as the door closed heavily, walking straight into the kitchen, and pouring a double from his Uncle’s Sniffer. The smooth fire burned its way down as he took a deep breath,

“James?” Lyrian rounded the corner to find him in the kitchen. It was late, as Mac had been overseeing the final bits and bobs of putting together the return fleet to Unity space. His emotions however told a very different story as Lyrian closed on him with worry scored across her face, “What happened”.

“Suidh sìos a ghràidh (Sit down beloved)… It’s not good news, and it changes our plans quite a bit” Mac said solemnly. The kids were currently out on a play date with a gaggle of cousins and would be home soon. Lyrian’s eyes widened at his Gaelic. She did as asked and mac sat in the chair next to hers at the table, “Celest got hit… It’s bad. She’s under tow by Galveston. Your brother and sister are alive. Cory is in surgery. Your brother-in-law is in critical care after his own surgery, and they plan on doing at least two more, if he can survive the week. That was what was in the last transmission.”

Lyrian was flattened. It took a full minute for her to say anything, “Gods…” She gasped, “Cò mheud(How Many)”

“We don’t know for certain. Current best estimates put between a third and half of the crew survived. They were going for Boardings.” Mac said softly,

“Olyvia?” Lyrian asked.

“I don’t know. She was listed as “likely” in the message. That usually means that the person is currently alive but is likely to pass.” Mac said, and Lyrians hands clenched in his before he drew her to his lap. She clung to him, hugging him fiercely as her emotions crashed and howled like a gulf hurricane.

Lyrian stead herself after several minutes, “You said it changes our plans. How bad is it…”

Mac sighed, “They hit 40 freighters across 5 A.O.’s. the Delmar home-world Sector was well protected. We didn’t lose any ships. 15 ships from neighboring Sectors have not checked in. Clint’s boys have found 4 wrecks, and 2 more debris fields we think could be wrecks… Delmar has called for help, we are it.”

“How. I thought Humanity was still repopulating.” Lyrain said.

“We are, but that also means that we have a lot of ships we don’t have the bodies to crew. Delmar has the bodies, and basic knowledge of our Tech. We are sending them ships.” Mac stated flatly.

“But what about Sol. She will be vulnerable.” Lyrain half protested. She had come to love this little pocket of beauty that Humanity called home.

“Thanks to our combining Terra and Mars technology with what your people have taught us… a single destroyer could gut any single old model fleet from the war before it was destroyed. Humanity is already well protected, and our new ships are being designed to be crewed by fewer, and able to do so much more. We owe your people as much as your people owe mine. Our next Generation ships will be able to safely make the trip in 3 months instead of the 4-6 that we will be taking when we leave.” Mac explained.

“When do we... When do we leave” Lyrian put a hand on her just barely visible baby bump, “I was hoping to Give Birth to him on your home world”

“Him?” Mac asked, the sudden change of subject caught him off guard.

“Nicole did a full workup this morning while you and the twins were gone. Bidh mi a’ giùlan do mhac (I carry your son)” Lyrian said just in time to be scooped up and spun about in the kitchen, then kissed all over with Mac ending on a smooch of her little bump.

“When do we leave” She asked again, as he put her down.

“At next month’s end. We are pulling These ships out of mothballs and installing Slip drives in all of them. They are not going to be fast, but we will be bringing a recently retired Hospital ship. Nicole is having the time of her life. I gave her and the medical crew from Tranquility a blank check. When the baby comes, we will be ready.”

“By the Void. James….How many ships is Sol sending” Lyrian asked.

Mac’s smiled one of his predatory tooth-filled grin as BigMac’s gaze flashed form behind his icy blues.