Opal 77: Skewed Space (Jerrie)

Part 24

A/n: sorry it took a bit, didn't know what to do with second half for awhile there :/

The view was a good one, or at least it had been. There were big empty fields of grass for as far as the eye could see. Today that wasn't a vast distance, the rolling fog surrounding the Plantation was thicker than the smoke gently pillowing from red lips. The normal symphony of bugs were singing, but the lack of soft growls, or other animal cries were a significant loss. Not only did they amplify the loneliness this planet had a tendency to create, its lack seemed to back up every insecurity the blonde had. It fueled the anger too, the hate. Every bad thought bitter on the tip of her tongue like broccoli.

She hated broccoli.

She hated Perrie too, and everything she represented. She hated a business man and his family; especially the one her biological property had run off to. But she especially hated insolence. The greatest sign of insolence in the blondes mind was the act of those lain before her. The scientists under the white sheets in front of her were tasked with repairing, not supercharging, a creature of superior strength. Their blatant disrespect fueled the doctors current raged pacing. So many good people, with extravagant potential —hand picked— for this operation were now dead, or fatally wounded. All due to the three mangled bodies hidden under (semi) white sheets.

"The drink you requested, Dr. Shipka." An attendant interrupted, holding out a cocktail timidly to her. They had arrived on the latest ship to land on the tarmac, here to help; Tasked with cleaning up the labs, wrangling the subjects back, and taking care of the survivors.

"Thanks," Kiernan replied, pausing her pacing to take the drink offered to her. "Please tell Major Dorian I'm ready to see her."

With a nod the attendant scurried away, thankful to be out of reach from the doctors wrath.

After a few more moments of pacing the stomping of boots filled the blondes ears. She only stopped once they came to a halt.

"Major."

"Shipka." The woman said in a thick accent.

"When I had tasked General Cowell with delivering Opal 77 to the outer laying colonies, I expected more." She took a quick drag from her cigarette. Her next words followed the retreating vapors. "You said he was a prime candidate. You gave me your word in fact, that there was a... zero percent chance the mission would fail."

"I'm sorry that the mission didn't succeed, but there were other factors—"

"And now here we are!" She intercedes, her words avalanching overtop of the Majors as if the sorry words never existed. "The repercussions have far exceeded the rewards at this point. Look at what's happened." She opens her arms and motions to the bodies before them. The breeze dances over the sheets, lifting them slightly to reveal flashes of the dead. "Because I trusted your word."

"Look," Dorian said carefully, taking a step closer to Kiernan. "Just because it looks like everything was because of my—"

"It is." Kiernan snarls stubbornly, taking a sip from her drink.

"No, listen." She tried again, closing her hands into fists to keep her frustration at bay. "It's that creature you pulled from the basement. Not Cowell, not me, or anyone... here." She gestures to the bodies. "Ever since you started using Opal 77, bad things have happened."

Silence follows the Majors words, but the wind carries them around for a few moments, whipping their hair around before disappearing into the grass.

"What is it you are trying to imply?" The doctor asked. Her eyes burned with a dangerous emotion, a reckless fire ready to consume at the touch of a hand.