Chapter Text

XIII – Duty

Eagle’s main shuttle bay was located on deck five and at the very end of the large saucer section. An expansive facility, it was easily the size of a football field. It was also usually kept empty in case the ship had to quickly launch or bring aboard a support vessel or any other large-sized object that would only fit into the bay.

Since Eagle had been in the midst of a cargo operation when it was attacked, the deck remained littered with containers and crates of all sizes that had been designated for Epsilon Twelve. There had been no time to secure the items when the attack had started and now much of their content was strewn across the bay. It ranked as one of Eagle’s least important problems.

            Wenera crossed the extensive bay without giving the chaos much thought. In her opinion, there was very little about their situation that was not already chaotic. She was looking for the one person whose job it was to restore some semblance of control.

            He was not in the main shuttle bay, however, and more importantly, he was not on the bridge. After they had managed to find a place to hide, very close to one of the largest asteroid fragments in the belt, Lif Culsten had left Lieutenant Trinik in charge of the bridge while he had left to contemplate their situation.

That had been nearly half an hour ago.

Wenera who had stayed on the bridge had quickly gathered from Stanmore and Trinik that the Jem’Hadar were doing anything but patiently waiting for Eagle to reveal herself. Instead, they were meticulously combing through the asteroid belt, trying to locate and destroy their hidden prey. According to Stanmore’s estimate, they had twenty minutes, maybe less, until one of the two bug-shaped starships would stumble across them.

            Wenera found an elevator platform and operated the control. It swiftly lowered her to the hanger deck below. With only the emergency lights in operation, she found the hanger an eerie place to be. Rivaling in size the shuttle bay above, it was packed with rows of parked shuttlecraft.

            She was undeterred and slowly made her through the shuttle labyrinth, doing her best to ignore the loud echoes of her footfalls, until she found the only one with an open access hatch and an illuminated cabin. A medium-sized shuttle by the name of Valkyrie.

            She entered and found the person she had been looking for, sitting in the pilot’s seat, his feet propped up on the flight console.

            “Permission to come aboard.”

            Culsten visibly jumped and whipped around. “Holy Mother of King Nartok,” he said with exasperation. “Why must you sneak up on me like that?”

            She shrugged apologetically and gave him a small smile. She said nothing as she sat next to him in the co-pilot’s chair.

            Culsten slowly relaxed. He gave her a sidelong glance but when he noticed that she was not looking at him he put his feet on the console and leaned back in his chair again.

            For a good minute or so, they remained like that in silence.

            “Doc?”

             “Yes?”

            “What do I do?”

            She slowly turned to look at him. “You cannot stay here, that’s for sure. There are people up there waiting for you to make a decision. They rely on you. Every person on this ship does.”

            “No pressure, huh?”

            “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Listen, I’m not a counselor and I don’t think we have time to get Trenira down here to speak to you about how you can be strong for your crew and—“

            He shook his head. “It’s not just about being strong,” he cut her off and looked her in the eye. “I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he said pleadingly, hoping against hope that she would be able to tell him.

            She considered that for a moment. “We could always leave, couldn’t we? Make a run for it; hope that we can get to a starbase or another ship before they catch us.”

            “I’ve done the math,” he said and shook his head. “In our current condition, we don’t have enough power to stay ahead of the Jem’Hadar for more than an hour,” he said, his glance dropping to the floor. “Besides we can’t leave the captain and our people behind on that rock. We owe it to them to stay and try to help.”

            She agreed but she was also aware that they could not sacrifice everybody on Eagle to rescue the captain and the away team. “Then we stay and fight.”

            He uttered a laugh. It was short and devoid of amusement. “We wouldn’t last ten minutes. I’m a pilot, not a tactician, doc. Why the hell did the captain leave me in charge?” he said, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. An anger he hadn’t even realized he had been holding on to. But now he knew. He was mad. Mad at having the fate of hundreds of lives thrust onto his shoulders. Mad at the Jem’Hadar for insisting on destroying the Federation and mad at the captain for putting him into an unwinnable position in the first place.

            “Yes, go ahead, Lif,” she said sharply. “Blame everybody else for what has happened Does it make you feel better?” she said, now no longer able to contain her own rising resentment. “It damn well better because it won’t help with any of our other problems. You want to be mad at the captain? Go ahead, get it out of your system. Get mad at everyone. The Jem’Hadar, the Dominion, the crew, the whole damned universe. After all, this is all about you now.”

            He glanced at the raven-haired doctor with utter astonishment. He had never seen her upset before, hadn’t even realized she had a temper at all.

            She stood. “Stay here and wallow in self-pity if that’s all you can do. But I refuse to surrender myself to this fate,” she said and headed for the hatch. “I’ll take command of the ship myself if I have to and we’ll figure something out without you. Might as well take one of these tin cans and get out of here while you still can. If you’re as good as a pilot as you keep saying, you might even make it.”

            As if struck by lightning, he swiveled around in his chair. “Doc?”

            She threw him a look over her shoulder and found him smiling. It irritated her immensely. “What?”

            “I think you just gave me an idea.”

            “Huh?”

            He stood and approached her. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it very much.”

            She said nothing. Only now did she realize that she had truly lost her temper and suddenly felt quite ashamed of herself. She hadn’t noticed it before but the stress, the desperation, and the fear of sudden death had finally gotten to her.

            He walked past her with a determined stride. He stopped when he had cleared the shuttle and realized that she was still inside. “Come on, doc. We don’t have much time and I will need your help.”

            She shook off her paralysis and quickly followed.

            “You know, you were right,” he said once she had joined him.

            “About what?”

            “You’re not a counselor. You’d be really bad at it, too,” he said with a sly grin.

            “Oh, shut up.”

*        *        *

Edison and Deen would have been surprised if they had been around to see it but Louise Hopkins had not offered even the slightest objection when Xylion had offered her his assistance restoring main power. In fact, quite the contrary was true. She had been very happy, almost eager for his help.

            They worked hand-in-hand within the restricted hatch that allowed access to the main reactor’s most vital parts. Space was so scarce that it was nearly impossible to avoid for them not to brush up against each other. Hopkins didn’t seem to mind and Xylion, practical as usual, couldn’t deny that their work method was producing results.

“Hyper-spanner, please,” she said.

He located the tool and held it up for the chief engineer who was positioned slightly above him.

She took the device and quickly applied it to reinforce a magnetic seal. “This is the last one.”

“We should attempt to start the reactor.”

            She shook her head. “Not yet. We need to reconfigure the influx compensators first. If they’re off-balance we might risk a power surge and everything we’ve done would’ve been in vain.”

            “Very well, I suggest you rest for a few minutes while I try to access the compensators.”

            She smiled at him. “Is that an order, Commander?”

            “A suggestion,” he said, keeping his voice as neutral as usual. Hopkins was certain she could spot the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

            She gave him a nod and slid back down. To get out of the hatch she needed to pass Xylion very closely. She slowed slightly when she realized her body was pushing up against him. She flushed. “I’m sorry.”

            Xylion gave her as much space as he could. It wasn’t much. “An apology is not required, Lieutenant.”

            She managed to get by to get out of the small hatch. “I know Vulcans don’t like to be touched,” she said when she had made it all the way out. She sat down to the hatch so she could still see him work.

            “That fact is irrelevant given our current situation.”

            She nodded to herself, Xylion was not able to see her from where he was working. “Can I ask you a question?”

            The Vulcan did not cease his efforts when he spoke. “Proceed.”

            “Do you think we have any chance at all to get out of here alive?”

            There was no immediate reply and Hopkins cursed herself for betraying her fears so openly to him. She wanted to be strong, especially in front of the Vulcan she felt attracted to. She knew the chances for the cold and emotionless man to ever feel the same way about her were slim but it had not deterred her from fantasizing.

            He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “I believe our chances are improving significantly now that we are close to reestablishing main power.”

            She couldn’t be sure but she thought she could see a gleam in his eye. “In that case, I’d love to buy you a drink in the Nest once we’re out of here,” she said with a boldness that surprised her. It was a figure of speech, of course since there was no monetary exchange on Eagle.

            Xylion turned back to focus on his work. “I will consider your offer.”

            A large smile crossed her features. She knew that he had been attempting to be a more involved officer by being more sociable with the crew but she hoped that there was more to his response than improving relationships with his fellow crewmates.

            She decided that the reactor room had been getting awfully warm and lowered the zipper of her mustard-colored uniform shirt.

*        *        *

Leva was not happy and he blamed D’Karr for this unexpected turn of events. It had taken him and fire team Bravo a good half an hour to get to the bottom of the vertical shaft and had swiftly realized that there was no sign of the other two fire teams or for that matter of the other shafts. Their assumption that all three shafts would eventually lead to the same place had been wrong and now all teams appeared to be separated from each other.

            They had entered another mining tunnel, which even though much wider than the last one was also nowhere near as straight. It was most likely an improvised extension to the mine, lacking the solid support beams that had dominated the rest of the underground network. Parts of this tunnel had already fallen in or looked as if they might do so soon.

            Leva had wanted to turn back but First Lieutenant J’ret, the Caitian Marine, and his de facto second-in-command had gathered that the tunnel would still take them closer to Epsilon Twelve and so he had reluctantly agreed to press on.

            They didn’t get far, however. Leva knew that there was trouble as soon as J’ret had suddenly stopped and his nostrils began to flare. The cat-like humanoid possessed not only an increased ability to see in the dark—a skill immensely useful within the gloomy mine—he also had an incredible sense of smell. He looked at Leva and slowly nodded his head. He held up his hands, which to Leva looked more like paws. Three maybe four, he indicated.

            Leva acknowledged and gestured to the rest of his men. Atiku Adenji and Jarine Ed’w’a were going to follow him, staying close to his side of the wall while Jamaal Booker would join J’ret at the far wall.

            They turned off the flashlights on their rifles and proceeded down the tunnel relying mostly on feeling the rocks and walls.

            It didn’t remain dark for long. A light source ahead was the first sign of the Jem’Hadar guards protecting the t-section. Moments later they spotted at least three of them, none looking in their direction.

            Leva gave the sign for the stealth attack he had learned from Major Wasco when he had ordered the same form of engagement in the large cavern earlier.

            His men acknowledged, setting their assault rifles to quiet mode which sacrificed firing rate and power for phased energy blasts that were much harder to spot and barely louder than a whisper.

            Leva had already singled out his first target. The Jem’Hadar soldier closest to them had his back turned toward him. He gestured for Adenji’s razor-sharp knife, which he swiftly placed into his awaiting palm. Then he swung his rifle onto his back and silently approached the unaware soldier with the blade at the ready.

He was determined to demonstrate to D’Karr how to properly execute a stealth attack.

*        *        *

“Engineering should be just ahead,” said Nora who had taken point for the rest of their journey.

            Owens was following closely while Xylion covered their rear.

            They found the blast doors leading into the engineering compartment slightly raised. Too low to pass through but high enough to make their presence known. Once they had identified themselves, the gate began to rise.

            “It’s good to see you, sir,” Edison said even as he maintained a surprisingly cautious distance to the new arrivals, phaser rifle in hand.

            “Same here, Commander.”

            A large smile spread on Nora’s face as quickly crossed the room to approach Edison. “Looks like you’ve been having it pretty easy down here.”

             “Are you all right?” he said with noticeable concern when spotting her torn uniform and signs of recent injuries.

            “Flesh wounds,” she said. She stopped short of giving him an embrace with everyone else watching, and instead just touched his shoulder. “Missed you,” she added quietly.

            Deen turned to Owens. “What happened? Did you manage to get in touch with Eagle?”

            He sighed. “Yes, but they’re under attack and it seems doubtful that they’ll be able to send reinforcements anytime soon. And to make matters worse… “

            Deen’s eyes grew larger and she quickly stepped back from Owens, her gaze fixed on something behind him.

            He wasn’t sure what had brought on this reaction. He turned to see Xylion entering the room. “We picked up the Commander on the way here,” he said. “And he has bad news.”

            “Commander,” Deen said loudly, trying to get Edison’s attention as she raised her rifle.

            “What is this?” said Owens, still not clear as to what was happening. “Lower your weapon, Dee.”

            She shook her head. “Step away from him.”

            Upon spotting the Vulcan, Edison brought his weapon up as well, also pointing it at Xylion.

            Nora, still standing next to Edison was as equally dumbfounded. “Gene?”

            “Captain,” Edison said, addressing Owens but keeping his eyes and weapon trained on the Vulcan. “When exactly did you run into Commander Xylion?”

            Owens was beginning to lose his patience at the strange behavior of his people. “About fifteen minutes ago. What is this? Explain yourselves.”

            “It would appear,” Deen said, “that we have a big problem on our hands. You see there already is—“

            “Xylion?” Owens said when he spotted the impossible.

            At the other end of the engineering compartment, Lieutenant Commander Xylion had just appeared. An expression of curiosity on his face. “Fascinating.”

“Indeed,” said the other Xylion.

Owens brought up his rifle and Nora followed suit within a second. Both weapons now pointed at the Vulcan they had not expected to find.

Deen looked over her shoulder and then back at Owens. “You see the dilemma?”

“One of them is a changeling,” Edison said, keeping his weapon trained on the Xylion who stood by Owens.

Nora stood just beside him but her weapon remained on the possible imposter at the other end of the room. “Now what?”

Owens took two steps away from the Xylion who still stood beside him. His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to allow them to tell which one was real and which one was only pretending to be. He tried to think of every word and gesture his Xylion had made since they had run into each other, any inconsistency that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not who he claimed he was.

“Logic dictates,” said the Xylion who had come with the captain, “that we do not make hasty decisions.”

“I concur,” said the other Vulcan.

Owens scowled at them both. “I really rather think both of you need to be quiet right about now.”

            Both Xylion’s complied.

            The situation was the very definition of a stalemate. Edison and Deen had their weapons firmly pointed at the new Xylion they suspected to be the changeling while Owens and Nora thought the same about the one they had just discovered. Nobody was willing to lower their weapons for even a second while the two Xylions stood like statues, mindful that one wrong word or gesture could start a firefight.

            “I say we shoot them both,” Nora said, seeing a hint of humor in the situation.

            Neither Xylion reacted to the statement.

            “Maybe it’s not a bad idea,” said Deen and looked at Owens.

            He shook his head. “None of our weapons are set to stun. And even if they were, we don’t know if that setting will work on the changeling.”

            Just then the power came back. First were the lights which instantly removed any shadows and dark corners in the spacious compartment, giving everyone a perfectly clear view of the insanity of the situation before them. It failed, however, to illuminate any inconsistencies between the two men who each claimed to be genuine article.

            Moments later the consoles and devices in the engineering room came back to life, filling it with the subtle background hum of a technical workplace.

            “Hopkins,” Deen said. “She restored power.”

            Edison drew another conclusion. “If our Xylion is the shapeshifter he would have killed Hopkins when he was alone with her.”

            Owens wanted to counter that they couldn’t be certain that she was not in fact dead already when the chief engineer came through the door just behind the Xylion he was targeting. She had a beaming smile on her face for managing to restart the reactor which swiftly disappeared when she found the confusing scene.

            “Lou, step away from Xylion, now,” Nora said with such vehemence that made the other woman move instinctively.

            It took her a few more seconds to understand that one of the Xylions in the room was their enemy. “Wait,” she said. “He must be the real one. Why else would he have helped me restore power.”

            “Maybe to cast suspicions away from him,” Nora said, unwilling to lower her weapon.

            Edison shot her a sidelong glance. “He would’ve easily killed her and prevented her from reengaging power.”

            “Captain?” said Nora, clearly no longer sure of the right answer.

            Owens was much in the same boat; he kept his aim true but took two more steps away from the Xylion to his left.

            Hopkins stepped closer to Nora. “Laas, he’s not the shapeshifter,” she said but sounded as if she was trying to convince herself.

            Nora knew as well as the others that they had reached an impasse and the longer it was allowed to continue, the greater the chance that the changeling would make a move or have a battalion of Jem’Hadar soldiers storm the engineering compartment which would be an easy target in their current state of confusion.

They had to make a move, and quickly. She allowed herself a second to take her eyes off Xylion and look at Edison. “Do you vouch for him?”

            “Commander,” Edison said, addressing the Xylion who had arrived with Owens. “A few days ago, we held a musical recital on Eagle. Which composition did you compliment me on?”

            Nora understood. The shapeshifter could not possibly know the answer to the first officer’s question. She slightly turned to be able to see Xylion’s face when he responded.

            The silence that followed added to the already razor-sharp tension in the room. Everyone present who was not a Vulcan—or pretended to be one—held their breath.

*        *        *

As soon as Leva was in striking distance of his target his right hand darted out and clamped over the Jem’Hadar’s mouth while pushing his head sharply back toward his chest. The Jem’Hadar struggled but was not quick enough to stop Leva from bringing up the combat knife to his now exposed throat.

            That’s when things went wrong.

            The soldier at the far end of the junction turned at the most inopportune moment and spotted the assault before Leva had been able to follow through with the killing blow.

            The Jem’Hadar wasted no time and seemingly unconcerned with his own man blocking the shot, he fired without delay.

The blast hit the Jem’Hadar, killing him instantly, and his lifeless body sagged to the ground, leaving Leva wide open.

            Surgical and surprised shots from both J’ret and Jarine Ed’w’a dropped the Jem’Hadar before he had a chance to finish Leva.

            By it was already too late. The element of surprise was ruined. Three more Jem’Hadar nearby unshrouded after they had heard the initial shot.

            Leva didn’t have enough time to grab his rifle swung over his shoulder and opened fire before the Jem’Hadar would engage.

            Lucky for him, Adenji pushed him aside just in time to avoid the incoming volleys. The Marine floored one of the Jem’Hadar with a quick shot from his own rifle.

            Everyone started firing.

            The Marines found themselves at an immediate disadvantage as their weapons were still in silenced mode, which was not the desired setting when engaged in a firefight.

            Leva found himself pushed into another tunnel with very little cover. He brought up his unmodified phaser rifle and opened fire at the first target of opportunity. This triggered immediate retaliation, as the Jem’Hadar unleashed a blanket of deadly energy.

            Adenji who was closest to Leva tried to come to his help but was struck by rocks coming loose from above, triggered by all the heavy weapons fire.

            The small cave-in allowed the other Marines to regroup and engage more efficiently and allowed Leva a short recess. He used it to reach out for the fallen Adenji and pulled him deeper into the tunnel and out of harm’s way.

            One of the Jem’Hadar noticed the easy target, took careful aim, and just as his finger was about to depress the trigger, he was struck by a phaser discharge. His weapon still fired even while he was pushed backward. The shot went wide and high, hitting the tunnel above Leva and Adenji.

            It was all the unstable rock formation needed to come loose completely. A shower of debris rained down on Leva. He glanced up only to realize that he had mere heartbeats before he and Adenji were going to be crushed by debris.

            Adenji’s body was slowing him down considerably. He understood he didn’t have a choice. He let go of Adenji and jumped only to see the Marine’s body disappear not a moment later under multiple tons of rock.

            Leva landed in the dirt nearby. The cave-in stopped and he pounded his fist into the ground with rage as if to punish the mine for the man’s death, and his inability to prevent it.

            “Commander?”

            The voice was faint but he recognized the slight purr that was so distinctly Caitian. It came from the other side of the cave-in that had cut him off from the others.

            He got back onto his feet and slowly approached the collapsed tunnel. “What’s your status?”

            “The Jem’Hadar are down,” J’ret said, his voice sounding muffled through the rock.

            “Do you have Corporal Adenji?”

            There was no immediate response. Leva looked down at his feet and found a trail of thick red blood coming from underneath the rock and pooling around his boots.

            “We have what’s left of him.”

            Leva clenched his teeth in anger.

            “Sir,” he continued in a manner of detached professionalism. “There appears to be no way to get to you through these rocks. It would take hours to try and clear the way and we can’t use weapons and risk another cave-in.”

            Leva didn’t speak but he did agree with the other man’s assessment. He was also preoccupied with regret that he had not insisted on returning when he’d had the chance.

            “According to the map,” J’ret said after a short pause, “you should be able to reach the outpost if you continue down the tunnel you are in. We will attempt to find another way.”

            Leva turned and began to search for his rifle. He could not find it. He had no weapon except for the knife that had belonged to Adenji.

            “Sir?”

            “Yes, yes,” he said, frustrated while trying to locate a phaser or another weapon. There was nothing but rocks. “Very well, I’ll proceed. You go ahead and find an alternative route,” he added, deciding that there was no point in letting them worry about the fact that he had no firearms to speak of.

            He reached for a low-yield light beacon that was attached to the wall and without another thought began to make his way down the tunnel. He couldn’t help but doubt that he stood much of a chance if he’d run into more opposition.

            He knew that there was very little chance that he wouldn’t.

*        *        *

All eyes in Epsilon Twelve’s engineering compartment were on Xylion. The problem of course was that there were two of them.

            Edison had been the first with the presence of mind to ask a question only one of them should have known the answer to. Together with Hopkins, Deen, and Nora, he was staring daggers at the Xylion they all suspected to be the imposter. If he didn’t manage to answer, or if his reply was incorrect, he was prepared to open fire.

            When Xylion spoke, he did so as calmly as ever, never mind that his life might depend on his next words. “You played a pleasing rendition of the Vulcan Moon Serenade.”

            “Son of a bitch,” Nora said as she realized that they had backed the wrong horse. But before she could whip around to find the now exposed changeling, the lights started to fluctuate. A screaming explosion erupted from the generator room nearby, causing the floor to tremble and every single console to blow out one after the other. This caught everyone by surprise.

            Owens, who had never taken his rifle off the other Xylion, was the first to fire. The now wildly flickering lights caused the world around him to blink in and out at a frantic pace. The pretend Vulcan was there one moment and gone the next. The phaser blast hit nothing but empty air.

            The room went completely dark.

            Nora’s eyes needed a moment to adjust to the unexpected darkness. But she could hear the fast-approaching footsteps. At least two individuals were on the move. Letting her senses guide her aim, she fired into the darkness. She heard the sound of something morphing and she was certain it was close. Very close.

            The red glow of the emergency lighting finally dispersed the gloom. There was nothing in front of her but out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shiny, silver metallic blade extending her way. She tried to get out of its path but she already knew she would not be fast enough.

            A sudden jolt hit her hard just before she heard the unmistakable sound of the blade cutting through fabric and flesh.

            Whatever had impacted her had been so forceful, it had knocked her onto the floor. She was slightly dazed from the impact when she looked up and spotted Xylion hovering above her.

But it was not Xylion. His entire right arm had morphed into something akin to a lance of metal and steel and it was now firmly planted inside Edison’s midsection. The changeling had targeted her but the first officer, apparently having seen the attack coming, had leaped toward her and pushed her aside just in time.

He had taken the full brunt of the attack instead.

            Phaser fire shot across the room but missed the changeling by a few centimeters. He swiftly withdrew the blade with a sickening slashing sound and it formed back into a humanoid arm.

The Changeling spared Nora the briefest glance, a satisfying smile on his lips, before his body erupted like a volcano, shooting upward even while transforming into a semi-liquid state. Within a heartbeat, his entire mass had sucked itself through an air vent in the ceiling.

            Nora found her rifle on the floor next to her and joined the others in opening fire but failing to hit anything alive. The Changeling was gone.

            Nora felt another liquid collecting around her body. It was blood and it wasn’t hers. She dropped her weapon and turned to Edison still lying next to her, unmoving.

            Blood was pouring out of his chest and his eyes were only half-open, threatening to shut close any second. “Gene!” She bend over him, her hands racing for the gashing wound on his chest, trying to apply pressure.

            She was fighting a losing battle. There was too much blood and the wound was too large for her efforts to show any effect. “Stay with me, Gene,” she shouted, making it sound like an order.

            Owens saw that Edison was injured and promptly gestured to Deen. “Medkit.”

            She was a step ahead of him, already having located one and ripping it off the wall.

            Owens turned to his chief engineer. “What just happened?”

            Hopkins' eyes were focused on Edison, her mind clearly still trying to cope with the fact that it had been Xylion who had done this. Or at least the man she had thought was Xylion.

            Owens didn’t have time for that. He placed himself into her line of sight. “Lieutenant,” he said more forcefully.

            “Power surge,” she said slowly.

            “How?”

            “I don’t know,” she said, her voice sounding tiny. “Everything seemed fine just a moment ago. Xylion must have … I mean the Changeling…”

            Owens nodded to her and turned to the Xylion he now knew for certain was real. “Commander, why do you think the Changeling would want to create a power surge?”

            “It is possible that a significant power surge could unseal the entrance to the underground lab,” he said with his usually calm demeanor as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

            “I agree,” said Owens and stepped up to where Nora and Deen were desperately trying to save Edison’s life. He noticed his first officer was still conscious but he was fighting for every second. He locked eyes with him.

            Edison nodded slowly, knowing exactly what Owens had to do. He mouthed a single word. ‘Go.’

            The next words out of Owens’ mouth felt like utter torture. He placed a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “We have to get to the auxiliary control room.”

            But it was Deen who looked up with disbelief. “What about Gene? We can’t just leave him here.”

            Nora’s hands were covered in Edison’s blood when she withdrew them from his still-pouring wound. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

            But his eyes were devoid of accusation. He didn’t manage to speak but he slowly moved his head, keeping eye contact with her as if to say that everything would be all right.

They both knew it wouldn’t.

            Nora reached for her weapon, not caring about smearing it red in the process, and stood.

            “Michael,” Deen said as she tried to close Edison’s wound with the meager means at her disposal. “We can’t leave him like this,” she pleaded, not realizing that the life had already drained out of Edison’s eyes.

            “We have to…” She stopped herself when she finally realized the truth. She sagged back onto her heels, looking defeated and despaired.

            Hopkins turned away from the ghastly scene, quickly wiping away the tears.

            Owens spoke quietly. “We need to move out.”

            Deen was still on her knees next to Edison’s body. “We can’t just leave him here like this,” she repeated but this time it meant something different altogether.

            Nora gripped her rifle so hard that her knuckles turned white. “He’s dead,” she said, her voice cold as ice. “Let’s go.”

            Exactly thirty seconds later, Eagle’s away team had left the engineering compartment, leaving their first officer behind—his head covered with nothing more than Deen’s uniform jacket—his body spread out on the cold floor, lying in a puddle of his blood with nobody to grieve for him but the dead and unconscious bodies around him.