Logbook entry

Amar Epsilon / 23 Oct 3302
WARS AND RUMORS OF WAR... PT 3

There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people.
-Howard Zinn

Silence. It can be louder than a thousand cries of anguish. Interestingly enough, they often follow hand in hand. Amar finished setting the tourniquet on Jansen's arm. He then looked around the corner, side arm drawn. His eyes slowly scanned the balconies, worried the shooter was still around. Seeing no threat, he began to examine his surroundings. It had been an age since he had witnessed such carnage. Innocence it seemed, had paid the price. The young nurse who had been so helpful to Amar and Jansen now lay face first on the white marble, her frail corpse motionless, her white uniform stained vibrant red. Others lay around her. The shooter spared no one.

He felt light headed, needing to lean on the hedge that had provided some, but little refuge. That's when he heard it, the first cries. The wails of sirens mixed into the screams of terror and shock. Soon after, the station alarms began screaming all around the facility.  The pilot raised herself to her knees and looked about her surroundings. Amar turned towards her then turned his attention back to the courtyard. Unaccustomed to such a sight, the pilot threw up and then turned away from the scene. Amar turned around, stepping over to her, he asked, "What do you know that's worth your death?" She looked away. Going to one knee Amar said, "Look at me!"

Slowly she turned to face him. She had a strong jaw line, and high cheek bones. Her brown hair with red highlights was pulled back in a tight bun. her eyes were a fiery blue, and if looks could only kill. Amar asked her again, "What do you know, that's worth killing you?"

Stubbornly, she turned her head away. her defiant look replaced by one of shame.

"Amar, I've seen people like this before. Your not gonna get anything from her here." Jansen said, as he slowly rose to his feet. Leaning against the hedge, he continued, "We should get back to the ship. At least there we can question her without fear of getting shot up. Plus we need to make our way to TAU ERIDANI. If she doesn't want to talk we might find something out there."

Amar nodded thoughtfully, and then turned to look at Jansen. "We need to get that arm looked at first."

Jansen's turned, face pale from blood loss. "Not here Commander, they will have their hands full. Dr. Daniels should be able to patch me up."

"Ok." Amar conceded. Raising his arm he opened a channel on his PDA. A soft glow lit up his PDA, soon replaced by the face of an emergency operator. "Identify yourself and declare your emergency," the face barked. "Commander Amarthanor Epsilon of the FSS Eagle's Flame. Medical emergency and requesting 9-Line Medevac." The face gave Amar a quizzical look, "Understood, Station services prepared to copy." Amar then continued and relayed the report. The operator responded, "Roger, be advised, security forces and TAC units en-route to secure your position."

"Understood, requesting immediate transport with our casevac to the FSS Eagle's Flame, our medical personnel will be sufficient."

"Standby." The operator called his superior over and relayed the request. Amar got his answer before the operator returned to the screen. "Request acknowledged and approved."

"Roger, over and out."

The line went dead, and his PDA flickered off. Security forces had just arrived, the sirens ripping through the deathly stillness. Small transport ships swept overhead, deploying TAC units and security forces into the surrounding area. A shuttle marked Z-245 flew overhead and descended into the courtyard. The side doors swung open, revealing a squad of intimidating men clad in black, the federation emblem on one shoulder, the fleet symbol on the other. Weapons raised, the men moved and secured a perimeter around the ship. Other shuttles descended, but unlike Z-245 these were marked with a red-cross, a symbol for aid that had survived thousands of years. Medics stepped off of these shuttles and began hurrying about looking for survivors. The cries of relief and calls for aid echoed around the walls.

An ensign approached Amar, "Commander," he said through his helmet, "Good to see you. I have orders to evacuate you and your crew to your ship." The ensign had to shout over the roar overhead of medical ships. "Sir, fleet com is also requesting a full briefing when you arrive. Admiral Harcourt wants you to contact him directly."

"Thank you ensign! I need a corpsman here!"

"Roger sir! Corpsman!"

A Corpsman jogged up to Amar. "See to this man, and get him on board." Amar said, gesturing at the shuttle. Amar turned towards the pilot, grabbing her restraints, he forced her to her feet. "Let's go," he said. He guided her to the shuttle nearby. "Get in." She stepped on board. "Ensign, give me your binders!" The ensign handed Amar his set of binders. Amar then cuffed the pilots hands to one of the benches forcing her to sit, hands behind her back on one of the benches running along the middle of the transport. Jansen soon joined them in the shuttle, patched up and resting on the corpsman. Sitting down with a sigh, he relaxed as the corpsman strapped him in and then began administering plasdrip. Amar walked over to Jansen, "You hanging in there?" he mouthed. Jansen raised his hand and gave him a thumbs up. The ensign handed Amar a headset and said, "She's your bird now commander, I'm remaining to assist with the efforts."

"Take care!" Speaking into it he said, "Pilot, let's get going, take us to docking bay 40 rack 3."
An affirmative response came through the earpiece, and the shuttle began to ascend. It flew through the medical ward in some places passing only meters between buildings. The shuttle glided through the tight transport corridors of the station heading toward the docking bay. Amar stood silently waiting for the ship to descend to pad 40.

Forward Security Officer Hines stood with Dr. Daniels on pad 40 waiting beside the lowered boarding ramp. Hine's small security team was waiting rifles slung and eyes scanning the interior of the station looking for the shuttle. Finally he thought as a shuttle came flying overhead and began to descend on pad 40. Dr Daniels was already running towards the shuttle, pulling an A-grav gurney behind her. Hines raced after her with the security close behind. The shuttle locked into the pad and the bay doors opened. Daniels, younger and nimbler, outran Hines and boarded the transport. Going directly to Jansen, she examined him, checked his pupil dilation, and then took him from the corpsman. She slowly guided him off the transport and onto the gurney. Hines watched her work as she moved back towards the Anaconda's loading ramp.Looking at the shuttle, he saw the commander disembark, dragging a person with him. Almost as soon as he exited the shuttle, it launched heading for who know where. "Commander," he called, "You need a hand?" Up close Hines could now see the exhaustion in his commander's hazel eyes. Amar gestured for him to take the pilot. "One of the holding cells, if you don't mind," the commander responded.

Taking a moment to stretch, Amar breathed deep. "What the hell just happened?!?" he thought. After collecting his muddled thoughts, Amar boarded the Anaconda. Deck officer Yves was waiting for him, "Excusez moi, Commandre, ze admiraal iz on ze line for you." Yves was a rather large man, born on one of the interior colonies, he spoke with a thick accent. He  claimed that his accent came from the school he had attended, but Amar thought it dated back centuries to an old earth culture. "Thank you, Yves, Ill take it in the com room. Have helmsman Ithora prep the ship for launch. "D'accord!" Yves responded.

Amar then turned and walked up the several flights of stairs to the com room. Closing the door behind him, he keyed up the holo-display.

"Admiral."
"Commander, report."

To Be Continued...
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