Future Shock: Interlude 2-The Patriot (Date: 2 months + P.B.)

The rescue ship touched down with a soft thud on the uncharted desert world. The
darkness was lifting but not quite quickly enough for the comfort of Joan Quistis, rescue
co-ordinator and ex-med tech. The tall distinguished woman looked nervously to the
reddening sky as another member of her team helped her strap on her hazard gear,
complete with the added protection of electric lights at the back and breast and elbows.
“Think these’ll work?” the man asked, fingering the lights.

“Hope they do,” Joan replied with a scoff. “Or I’m in big trouble. Our research
indicated the creatures were light-shy. Team Alpha is taking the wreck of the
Hunter-Gratzner, I’ll be leading Team Beta in to the settlement. If there are any
survivors out there, we’ll find them. If not, which seems likely at this point, this turns into
a recovery mission. Understood?”

It had been nearly six years since Joan had been forcibly entered into the Company’s
cleansing plan where she’d been re-programmed for the good of the community and
trained as a doctor, then released into the colonies under the Company’s watchful eye.
She had no memory of her life before that. Shortly after her release into society, she’d
mat a man by the name of Quistis who, a staunch opponent of the Company’s program,
had helped her try to recover her forgotten past but all he’d ever found was the name of
a woman whose description vaguely matched her own: the misspelled Hannah ‘Jade’
Sercy. The Company had killed him after that and Joan took his name in his honor. No
longer was she standard issue Joan Doe, she had a name and that was better than
nothing.

She grew to bitterly hate the Company, despite her programming, as she was often
treating the victims of the cruelty and unfounded brutality. She began publishing an
anti-Company newsletter whose only distinguishing mark was that of the United
Federation of Earth’s flag on the cover. That is how she came to be known as The
Patriot.

Professionally, her career was taking off. She was moved from level five security to
level three and cleared for missions outside jurisdiction, such as rescue missions and
the like. That’s how she came to find herself now on this God awful, unmapped planet
wearing full hazard dress in the sweltering heat. She seriously doubted the chances of
one of the wreck survivors living through two months of darkness on this hostile world.
They’d already come across the VERY scattered remains of what appeared to be at
least three separate people on the walk from the crash site through the canyon to the
miners’ settlement, but she kept hope alive as she dodged in and out of the run down
and abandoned buildings.

Sweat poured over her brow as she and three others managed to push open the
barricaded doors of a small but fairly severe looking shelter. It was musty inside and
smelled heavily of death and decay. Joan covered her mouth and nose with her hand to
keep from retching until a teammate urged her to put on a breathing mask. The floor
was slippery beneath their boots and only on closer inspection did they realize that the
dirty surface was entirely covered with the rotted entrails of the native creatures. One of
the team members, a boy name Stevens, vomited on the spot while a few others ran
out of the building, hoping for a bit of dignity. “They’ve been cannibalized,” Stevens
choked out, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove.

“No, not cannibalized,” Joan said, bending down to examine the mess, “but eaten,
definitely. They were small ones, possibly infants, but it still must have been very
difficult to lure them in here and kill them. Whoever did this must have a hell of a will to
live.”

Suddenly one of the metal cabinets to their left flew open and a human body fell to the
floor. It was a woman, her short blond hair matted with dried blood, a make-shift shiv
clutched tightly in her desperate fist. She trembled violently, shivering as she
whispered in the loudest voice she could muster, “Oh, thank God! Thank God you’re
here! Help me!”

“She has a fever,” Joan muttered, taking the woman in her arms, “good God, she’s on
fire. And she’s injured, badly. It’s probably infected,” she sighed, running her fingers
along the deep rips and tears in the flesh of the woman’s back. “She needs treatment
right away! Someone help me get her back to the ship!”

Carolyn opened her eyes and tried to cough out the bitter taste in her mouth. Her
head was throbbing as she felt around her with her hands to determine her
surroundings. She was on a ship. She sighed, thank God. Thank God! She tried to sit
up and a searing pain shot through her weakened body, forcing her back down onto the
generic, flat med bay bed. “Careful,” Joan said, rushing to her side. “You’re still not
altogether well. You’ve been asleep for a week, you gave us a scare there for a while.
You were very ill. I’m Dr. Joan Quistis, I’m the one who found you.”

“I...I can’t see,” Fry gasped out in panic, touching around her eyes carefully with her
fingertips. “Am I blind? Have I gone blind?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Joan sighed. We’ve done the tests, we just can’t be sure until we
see the test results. My opinion? I think you’re just light blind and you vision will return
in time though you were in total darkness for two full months and that has been known
to damage the human retina in alien atmospheres.” She reached over and checked
Carolyn’s vital signs, taking a sample of blood from her arm as well. “You were lucky,
the odds were against you, but you pulled through. You must have a very strong urge
to live,” she said trying to hide the envy in her voice. “You must have a lot to live for.”

Fry’s thoughts instantly turned to Imam and Jack and... and Riddick. Her last memory
was of holding him, the look in his eyes as she was pulled from his embrace was
heartbreaking. They were all she’d thought of for the two months she was holed up in
that stinking building, the will to see them again, alive, all that kept her from slipping
away into the black void she’d felt constantly at her back. But she didn’t even know if
they’d gotten off the planet, if they were indeed alive and safe. A tear rolled down her
cheek and Joan wiped it away gently. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, “I hope so."

* * *

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