When the ocean meets fire

~~~~~~~~~~~Authority~~~~~~~~~~~~

A flash of red; that was all they saw of the murderer. It sounded cliché but life really did go in slow motion for the crew of Starship 48 C9 when their final trip back to their ship was interrupted. They all heard it: a single soft ‘pew’ sound, a sizzling crack as it hit its target, and the blunt thump as it hit the ground, swirling up the blue dust on the planet’s surface so they couldn’t quite see what had happened when they all turned round until the ash-like substance settled.

They found their Lieutenant crouched on the ground where they’d heard the thud, with a large amount of dark blood spread over her hands and tank top. They moved closer to try and help her, but she pushed them away, gesturing to something at her feet. They followed her gaze and their eyes settled on Commander Hibbart, who was lying in a heap in the blue dirt, who was clutching a deep zapper wound at his chest, whose face was paler than the sky of the planet they were on, who was losing blood too fast, whose blood was on Lieutenant Taz’s hands.

Taz tried to work as quick as she could, by putting pressure on the nasty hole in Hibbart’s chest and trying to make him look at her, to stay awake, but even the most advanced doctors at the base would have had trouble to slow the excessive bleeding at least. Her hands shook as she tried to cover the wound with the gauze an ensign had given her from the first aid kit, and she told herself to stop trembling and to concentrate, but unfortunately the G.L.E.E hadn’t been very generous on its medical supplies on minor missions like theirs after the robot wars. She swore loudly and resulted to using her hands to cover the hole, but Hibbart grabbed her wrists and looked her in the eye with a weak, but deadly serious frown. She stopped, and his hands fell away in exhaustion. However, despite his exhaustion, he managed to breathe a sentence at her.

“Don’t... please...just go...” Taz shook her head,

“I’m not going to leave jou here when we were seconds from finishing de mission!” she yelled, ignoring him and the unbelievable amount of blood pouring from his chest.

“Lieutenant!” he was dying, but he could still sound authoritative, “You... you are in charge... of this mission...now. T-t-take” the zapper must’ve reached his lungs, “the rest of... the crew... b-back. Th-th-that... is my... final... order.” Taz’s brow was furrowed with guilt, but she nodded at Hibbart, and managed to choke out,

“Yes Commander.” She thought he heard it, and she hoped that it was his last thought that he’d got the dead-god damn job done, as his head tilted away from them and the pulse Taz felt beneath her fingers slowed to a stop.

She stood up and turned around to face the handful of privates and ensigns who’d never expected to see a death on this kind of mission. They looked at her both expectantly and with worry in their eyes. They looked at their Lieutenant: her usually white tank top was soaked through with deep burgundy- the same colour as her hands and knees where she’d knelt next to Hibbart. No one dared to say a word as she walked through their small huddle, parting it like the red sea.

However, her next words were so full of authority, yet so simple, that it sent shivers of pride down all of their spines and made them feel a sense of having seen what a real mission was like.

“Let’s take dis ship home.”