Battlefields and Bloodlines

Chapter 3: Secrets, Burritos and Death

I approached the front desk and greeted the receptionist, who'd I'd met last night when I came in to grab space plague supplies for me and my team, and received my workplace injury form to fill out on one of the tablets provided by the medical center.

I filled it out more quickly than most of the others in the group, as I'd seen this injury form a hundred times while working at the Midnight Facility. Staff members of the facility tended to be frequently injured on that particular job.

Being that I was the first one to fill out my form, I was the first one called back to receive my examination.

It was fairly standard-- a sour looking older woman in white scrubs gave me a bunch of tests to make sure I wasn't injured, apart from the cut on my face, and treated the cut on my face appropriately with physioglue and adhesive sutures.

I was in and out in a reasonable amount of time for someone with a workplace injury.I used my communication device to contact Fletcher on my way out of the medical center. The message she sent back said to wait in my quarters until everyone was processed, and then continue waiting for further instructions. I suspected those further instructions would be some kind of lunch, considering it was almost midday mealtime.

I noticed on my way out that Edwards, Vaughn, Blake and Johanson were missing. That meant I probably didn't have much time before Vaughn came to find me.

Making my way through the ship back to my quarters, I tried to think of the best way to play this out. I didn't want to answer any of her questions. I didn't want to hear what she had to say about my bloodline. I didn't want any of it. I'd tried very hard to pretend like I wasn't half Ragnarei, and my uncle had tried very hard to cover that up. I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of unearthing anything about myself that I didn't already know.

It turned out I had way less time than I thought. I was midway through digging for my outboard com unit when someone cleared their throat from the doorway to my room.

"What?" I said, in a tone more tilted than intended.

"I gave you fair warning." Vaughn said, sounding exactly as tilted as intended. "Let's talk."

"I'm very busy." I said, pulling the pneumatic suture device out of my pack. The vaguely illegal, non regulation medical device was almost painfully shiny.

It worked, though. Vaughn was momentarily distracted. "What's that?"

"None of your buisness. Doctor stuff." I said, almost haughtily as I looked in the mirror and tried extremely hard to ignore the handwritten tag attached to the device that said "NOT FOR USE ON FACE". Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I figured. But what kind of doctor stuff?" Vaughn asked, taking a few steps closer.

"The exciting kind." I muttered, staring in the mirror and positioning the pneumatic suture device against my face.

"Aiden. The tag there specifically says not to use it on your face." Vaughn sighed.

"What's the worst that could happen?" I asked, pulling the trigger."

"Aiden!"

Three minutes, four sutures and a whole lot of pain later, I was sitting on the floor with Vaughn sitting next to me.

"That was quite a show." She rolled her eyes. "Can we talk now?"

The burning sensation on my face from the hard plastic compound sutures was bad enough that basically any distraction was welcome.

"Sure. I guess. But if I tell you I don't want to know something, stop telling me. And if I tell you I don't know something, it's because I don't, because I never asked, because I didn't want to know." I sighed.

"So I know you're half Ragnarei. And I've spoken to your mother. And, obviously, to Gladiator Lane. Considering he's my teammate." She cleared her throat. "That didn't get me a whole lot of answers."

"I can assure you, I will be much less helpful than either of those two."

"Yeah, I'm starting to see that. But if you can't answer any questions about your bloodline, then I need you to understand why it's so important that you keep your parentage a secret until I figure it out." She took a deep breath. "Aiden, I need you to understand how important you are. How important bloodlines are on Ragnaran. They determine everything-- your family, your home, your clan, your nation-state, your spouse, your children's future, everything."

I stared at her. "So what does that have to do with me?"

She took another deep breath. "Bloodlines are so important, so sacred to the Ragnarei that your existence could spark a civil war. If your bloodline is connected to someone of any importance, that could mean either the ruling government completely rejects any Ragnarei blood you have or..."

"Or what?" I asked, a sinking feeling starting to form in the pit of my stomach. "Or your father was someone incredibly important, in a very well connected bloodline, which would put you in a very good position to hold a claim to the rights of that bloodline."

I sighed. "And that means?"

"Aiden. That means that there would be a split between the Ragnarei who believe you'd be entitled to the rights of your bloodline and the Ragnarei who think your human parentage cancels any bloodline rights you could have." Vaughn folded her arms. "And that means the Ragnarei are so busy fighting with each other that they wouldn't be able to help us fight against the Federation."

She leaned forward towards me. "We're so close to an alliance. So close. It just needs a little bit more time. And we'll have more than a fighting chance against the Federation-- We'll have a chance to win!"

I exhaled slowly, understanding. "And to keep that alliance as the focus, I have to keep people from finding out I'm part Ragnarei."

Vaughn exhaled slowly, too. "Exactly."

"Well, I've done a pretty good job so far. No one has figured it out from anything I've done." I said, shrugging.

"Good. Keep it that way. If you encounter any Ragnarei, don't breathe a word. That would be worse than any human finding out."

"Why? Would they test me to find out who's bloodline I belong to?" I asked, vaguely interested.

"Yes. Yes, they would." Vaughn eyed me. "And I'm serious about that. They'd involve the USAF if they had to."

"Yikes. No thank you." I said, shuddering.

"I didn't think that option appealed to you." Vaughn almost smiled. Almost.

I sighed and leaned back against the wall. "So it's even more important than ever that I keep this deep, dark secret I've carried with me my entire life?"

"Yeah. Sorry to be the bearer of that particular bad news, but I knew you'd understand and give it your best shot." Vaughn said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

I patted her hand. "Don't worry, I definitely understand. My love of avoiding things also means I don't particularly want to deal with anything that might come from a 'bloodline'."

"Well. One day, you might have to gird loins and face that. But for now? Pretend like you don't have one." Vaughn gestured to me. "As long as no one gets a good look at your mom, or finds out that Admiral Hawke is your uncle, we can pretend like you don't very clearly take after your Ragnarei father."

"We?" I asked, frowning.

"We. You're not in this alone, Aiden. At the very least, you've got me. I mean that." Vaughn folded her lanky body up into a standing position. "Go find your team in the mess hall. You'll need lunch, because I intend to see exactly what that half Ragnarei bod is capable of in the gym later."

I groaned. "Xenoethnographer personal training? Perfect. I can't wait."

Vaughn winked at me on her way out the door.

I slowly got to my feet and made my way to the mirror to check my face. It looked fine. I grabbed the pneumatic suture device and threw it into my combat medical bag. It could come in useful later.

Then I started on the ordeal of trying to navigate my way to the mess hall without getting lost.It worked. I managed to find my way there with no issues, and even arrive at the same time as Edwards.

"Hey!" I said, genuinely happy to see him. "Nice to see you got cleared."

"Well, I didn't have any injuries, since all I did was hide in the foliage and shoot at Johanson." He said, grinning at me.

"Good for you." I said, rubbing my face, which still stung.

"Sorry about your face." He said, wincing a little. "It looks cool, though. Makes you look tougher."

I laughed. As if I needed that.

"Oh! I almost forgot to mention it-- the doctor that checked me out was that other BTS that's on the ship." Edwards said, nudging me.

"Who was it?" I asked, picking up a tray and getting a spot in line for food.

"It was uh....his last name was Carter." Edwards said, slowly, looking at me intently.

Carter. John Carter.

The memory was so intense I almost couldn't stay upright.

It was a memory of blood. Of John's hands, covered in it. My blood. Claire's blood.

My pulse pounded in my ears, too loudly.

I shook my head, hard, and glanced back at Edwards. "Yeah. Carter. Dr. John Carter."

"So you do know him." Edwards said, slowly, still looking at me intently. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I looked in front of me. Two cafeteria workers were looking at me with mild concern.

 They probably saw this a lot. War leaves none unscathed, and the lunch line is universal.