Kason ran quickly down the empty corridor, quiet save for the noise when his armored boots struck the floor. The heavy, metal cylinder that he carried in the crook of his left arm hardly slowed his pace. He constantly scanned the flowing data on his battlehelmet display, but detected no signs of the life in this sector, apart from himself. A small digital display in the upper left corner of the visor buzzed and announced {Forty -Seven Point Six Meters: Increasing}

      "Detonate," Kason intoned mechanically, as he shifted the weight on his left arm.

      A series of rapid explosions erupted in a large room, now over fifty meters to his rear, the shockwave of displaced air flowed past his body, rocking him. A message beeped in from Jens Dryden.

      "Fourth sector clear. Mission green. I'm enroute to rally. Copy leader. Ninety under," Dryden reported.

      "Copy Two." responded Kason. He noted that resistance had been relatively stiff on the fourth sector. Maddox called in next, sounds of weapons fire clearly audible in the background.

      "First and second sector clear. Commencing tertiary sweep. Copy leader."

      "Copy Four," Kason replied as a third message came in from Keelan, who was at rally point, presently awaiting the arrival of the rest of the team. Kason acknowledged Keelan less than a minute away from the rally point himself. His eye caught a change in color instantly: an icon inside Kason's helmet had abruptly changed from blue to red. It was one of his triangles, which signified a decline of one of his Reavers to critical medical status.

      {R5KR: Status [Medical] Critical. Alert.}

      Ramek! Data marked that he was two levels below. Kason stopped and dropped the heavy data case down on the floor with a thump. He pulled a square of mesh material from a pouch at his side, swiftly unfolding it, he slipped the metal cylinder into the mesh sack. Sealing it, he slung it over his back, fastening it securely upon the surface of his armor. Kason sent an emergency broadcast to the other three Reavers.

      "Relay all. Relay all. Reaver five is down. Blue falling to rapidred. Sector four is hot. Two and three divert to new X-zone and secure. Coordinates follow," Kason ordered to the rest of his team. The old rally point would be abandoned in favor of a new, one much closer to Ramek's position.

      "Confirmed Reaver one. Enroute to coordinates received," replied Jens Dryden over the comlink.

      Kason broke in to a loping run, while he conveyed his next message to Maddox. "Move to sector four."

      Kason ran down a corridor, his boots pounded heavily on the deckplates, disregarding stealth in favor of speed. Kason surmised that Ramek was badly wounded and unable to move effectively, and therefore vulnerable to the small groups of Kryth soldiers still moving about in Ramek's sector. Something had prevented him from conducting a full sweep of his sector. Kason slid to a stop at the edge of a lift shaft with both doors ajar.

      He scanned the top of the lift sled stopped between levels about 15 meters below. Unhesitatingly, he leaped five meters across the open shaft. His right boot bent one of the rungs of the service ladder anchored on the far wall as he landed. Kason's left hand slapped another rung, clenching his gauntlet around it; he stopped his forward momentum by tensing his powerful arm muscles. He powered down his blaster, still held firmly in his right hand. Kason fixed the weapon to the anchor point on his right thigh. Twin bands snaked out from the anchor points, and fastened the weapon securely against his leg. An armored sheath covered the bottom half of the weapon, clicking as the seams meshed with one another.

      Kason repositioned the palms of his hands and the inner edges of his boots on the outer rails of the ladder. Thus positioned he slid rapidly down the shaft, the friction and inward pressure keeping him balanced. He jumped the last few feet and landed heavily on top of the lift sled. The sled had stopped between levels, positioning the bottom of the doors to the adjacent level over a meter higher than the top of the lift. Kason eyed the closed doors. His sensors indicated the thickness of two point four centimeters and a composition of interlaced metal alloys. He decided that the blaster on his right leg would take too long to penetrate the doors. Ramek's icon was still flashing red. Kason reached back behind his right shoulder and grasped the trigger mechanism of his assault weapon. The anchor points behind his right shoulder whined and retracted, releasing the weapon as Kason's genetic imprint was recognized.

      Kason backed up against the far side of the shaft and fired two explosive rounds at the doors, tearing them completely off the frame. The concussion wailed up the open shaft. Burning, metal fragments rained down on the deckplates in a series of ringing notes. Kason's powerful legs propelled him up easily to land in the corridor.

      His helmet pinpointed Ramek fifty meters distant down a corridor that veered off to the left. Maddox's indicator was closing in from the east as Jens and Keelan rushed to meet them. Kason's sensors suddenly picked up five Kryth nearing Ramek's position.

      "Contact, Command Leader," burst in Maddox across his channel, the roar of weapons close by. Clearing a doorway, Kason saw Maddox blazing away at Kryth soldiers, bodies falling away under the onslaught. He slipped past Maddox, bounding over debris and numerous Kryth bodies before he saw Ramek's body lying facedown on the deck. Kason leapt over a large hole in the deck, the impact of his boots scattering small pieces of metal and debris. Approaching Ramek's still body, Kason's desire to kill was pushed aside by concern for one of his men.

      Ramek lay prone, partially covered by debris. Kason placed his weapon on the floor and cleared the debris off Ramek's unmoving body as he scanned for lifesigns and analyzed the damage. Ramek has sustained severe wounds that had to be dealt with at once. Kason hurriedly flipped open a small compartment housed in his left forearm and keyed in a series of codes that transferred a combination of drugs to one of the cylinders in the small forearm compartment. Kason extracted it and pressed the end of the cylinder against an exposed area of Ramek's flesh, visible through a gash in the side of his torso armor.

      "Blood! What in hell's name did you run into Ramek!" Kason wondered silently as he opened the communications link to the Mercador. The ship orbited high above the station awaiting the order to extract Kason's Reaver team. The drugs had begun to stabilize Ramek, but his initial signs only reached 32 percent of normal. The drugs helped as Ramek's body raced to sustain itself, quickly exhausting the first injection. As Kason administered a second dose he sent an urgent message to the Mercador.

      "Mercador prime. Reaver commander requesting immediate extraction. One critical. Link at new coordinates on my relay. Confirm at seven over. Repeat one critical. Medical standby required."

       "Confirmed Reaver Commander. Commencing run. Link in seven over. Medical standing by," came the reply from the Mercador.

      The siren whooped a warning followed by a computerized voice announcing the Mercador had successfully docked with the larger command ship the Orions Rage. The Lockchief stepped up to the airlock controls and double-checked the computer readout. Satisfied she deftly opened the door as her counterpart did the same aboard the Mercador. The medical team hovered anxiously behind her, waiting for permission to enter the airlock. The Lockchief secured the door, making sure the seals were properly connected, she was the one responsible for lives aboard both ships. A thumbs up from the Mercador's chief. She let the medical team pass.

      "Clear away!" barked Commander Quinst. The sound of his voice scattered the half dozen crewmembers clustered around the doorway to the conference room. Ship discipline overrode their curiosity, especially when the order came from the tall, red-haired Commander. Quinst's conversation with the Captain of the Mercador concluded abruptly on their private command channel. The Captain was himself consumed by numerous other duties. Quinst's comlink continued to receive reports from other sections throughout the ship.

      Commander Quinst entered the conference room, the door whooshing open mere inches in front of his face.

      He saw four hulking figures standing around the conference table, under bright overhead lights, upon which a fifth body lay motionless. Two of the Reavers hunched over the prone body, frantically tending his wounds. Four chairs lay thrown haphazardly in a pile across the room, the shiny stubs of the bolts protruded from the floor next to the Reavers' feet. The other four chairs, on the far side of the conference table were still intact, bolted to the deck as originally intended.

      The two Reavers standing in the empty spaces labored to save the wounded soldier. The other two moved weapons, equipment and captured Kryth Mahr accouterment away from the activity. Quinst heard no voices in the room, only the steady noises of military equipment being moved and stacked. He heard nothing of the conversations between the Reavers, but saw heads moving and hands gesturing, so Quinst knew they were communicating. He realized that he had access to Kason Bender's frequency. Chagrinned, he logged it in to his comlink, finally catching the last fragment of the conversation.

      "…Can't move him yet Jens. I can't reach it," Kason announced tightly, both of his hands occupied as he stanched a large puncture wound in Ramek's side with a large slapatch. "He needs another boost before the first one depletes." As if on cue, Kason's medical display flashed another dire warning inside his visor, coupled with an annoying alarm.

      {R5KR: Medical: Critical: 34.4 Percent…31.7…29.9…}…Kason listened to the message and watched as Ramek's medical status plummeted towards flatline. Angrily, he released the slapatch, which automatically adhered to Ramek's bare flesh, and ejected another drug capsule from the wide belt at his waist. The small capsule nearly slipped from between his blood-slicked fingers as he loaded the potent dosage in to his injector, housed in the bottom of his left gauntlet sleeve.

      "Jens, get his gauntlet off! I need the artery," Kason shouted. A black gauntlet clattered to the metal deck. A puff of air discharged the combination of drugs through the surface of Ramek's bare skin. Kason watched his display intently. The descending digits stopped at eighteen-point-two percent and laboriously climbed back: 19.1, 19.9, 20.2. Each tenth of a percentage point registered at an agonizingly slow rate under Kason's piercing gaze. It stopped at 23.4 percent and increased no higher, no matter how hard Kason willed it to do so. Kason sighed in acquiescence. "How long?" Kason addressed the officer standing behind him.

      Quinst jumped, startled by the unexpected query. Kason Bender had not turned, yet he was clearly aware of his presence. Quinst had been watching the whole process silently, staring at the unmoving fingers on the wounded Reaver's pale hand.

      "Oh," He quickly glanced at his visor. "Twenty seconds," he responded. "Critical down! Move! Move!" he yelled on his adjacent link to the medical team, trying to regain his lost composure.

      Ten seconds later, four medical personnel slid through the door in a rush and clatter of equipment piled high on a lev-sled. Quinst stepped back quickly from the general vicinity of the large table to allow the medics room to proceed, while adversely, Kason stood protectively over Ramek. Three of the four medics quickly deployed their equipment. The ceramic cases snapped open, transformed in to a compliment of medical machinery that rivaled that of a true medical facility, although at an extremely streamlined version. Quinst did not recognize most of the medical apparatus, so he queried the ship's computer to identify what was indeed an impressive array; the black case with three diagonal red stripes was a Biomolecular HIGEN Unit. The dark blue sphere that hovered in the air over the medics when activated was a Dermatic Relacer. The chromatic box with three large, protruding cylinders, tended by the female medic was a Chemical Infusion and Toxin Inhibitor. The machine unfolding from the largest gray case was a Multipont Nanite Booster and Tissue/Organ Rebuilder. Quinst ignored the last two or three of the computer's desciptions, content that he had chosen command over medical.

      The tall, lanky medic named Hesom, stepped up behind Kason and clapped his hand sharply on Kason's armored shoulder. "Stand aside," he said, his voice loud and excited, laced with the arrogance of someone used to taking charge. Annoyed, Kason snapped his head around, pinioning the medic with a back glare. He saw that Quisnt had recoiled back at his sudden movement. Wide-eyed, the medic jerked his hand away from Kason's shoulder as if he had been vac-burned, starring at the sight of Kason's blood-streaked helmet.

      Kason's eyes flicked to the twin silver crescent insignias on Hesom's shoulder, denoting him as a Senior Medic. He looked down at the medic, who nervously realized the danger his contact had provoked. Kason still felt the burn of the drugs in his blood, but maintained absolute control over his body. He motioned towards the wounded Ramek with his right palm outstretched. "Proceed," he said calmly, betraying no hint of the savagery so many had come to believe. He watched the Senior Medic and Commander Quinst breathe easier, letting the incident pass quickly and return to the task at hand.

Kason's eyes flicked to the twin silver crescent insignias on Hesom's shoulder, denoting him as a Senior Medic. He looked down at the medic, who nervously realized the danger his contact had provoked. Kason still felt the burn of the drugs in his blood, but maintained absolute control over his body. He motioned towards the wounded Ramek with his right palm outstretched. "Proceed," he said calmly, betraying no hint of the savagery so many had come to believe. Kason watched the Senior Medic and Commander Quinst relax and breathe easier, the quickly let the incident pass and return to the task at hand.

      The medical team began to work on the wounded Reaver, clustered around the table with their medical apparatus, working earnestly to uphold their responsibility.

      Quinst watched the four Reavers shift completely to their next task, totally unconcerned by the confusion around their wounded comrade. Kason turned away from the table and helped the other three Reavers secure the captured Kryth Mahr equipment. Weapons were stowed and satchels stored in small packs upon their backs. The mission-sensitive Kryth Mahr equipment was methodically packed in four hard-shelled cases, stored onboard the Mercador prior to the mission. The cases were sealed and then locked with black cypher dropbolts. It took only a few additional minutes to ready the equipment for transfer to the Orions Rage. Quinst marveled at the speed and sureness of movement at which the Reavers had worked, totally oblivious to the medical personnel working feverishly behind them, endeavoring to save their comrade. Kason let his men finish the packing, as he detached himself to stand nearer the table, observing the medics.

      Quinst noticed the dried blood on Kason's helmet and how his legs from the knees down were similarly splashed with blood and scored by weapons fire. A shallow gouge snaked across his right forearm, disappearing behind a large muscle. The blaster strapped to his right thigh caught Quinst's scanning eyes. The barrel was smeared with blood. Unnerved at the realization of how close the actual fighting must have been aboard the Dalyth station, Quinst hurriedly left off from further speculation.

      He approached Kason, who was now definitely brooding over the wounded man. Clearing his throat Quinst spoke out loud, discontinuing his comlink. Such was his preference at close intervals.

      "He's in good hands. I think the medics got here in time I believe." Quinst stated out of a need to say something to the silent man than to convey information. "The rest of your men need any assistance? I've taken the liberty of having a lev-sled standing by to transport the Kryth Mahr equipment to the flagship, under armed guard, of course. I know that you and your men must be tired." Quinst gestured at the three other Reavers standing halfway across the room.

      Kason turned to face Commander Quinst. Quinst noticed an almost imperceptible nod and watched as the Reaver's tense body relaxed visibly. The broad shoulders slumped just a bit and his right hand slowly unclenched. Quinst looked up into the Reaver's eye lenses, and then smiled as he heard the medics in the background exclaim with relief.

      "Patient stable! Forty-five percent," one of the medics announced. Congratulatory laughs broke out and relieved the tension in the whole room. The wounded Reaver was stable for the moment. Barring a catastrophe, he would recover aboard the Orions Rage. Quinst saw the senior medic cast a smug look at Kason's back, before turning back to his patient.

      A; black gauntlet, dirty and gritty with debris clasped Captain Quinst's hand in a viselike grip. A moderately deep voice rumbled from beneath the helmet.

      "Many thanks Captain. Your assistance was timely and much appreciated. Your medics are exceptionally good, especially the arrogant one. Hesom, I believe." Quinst nodded in confirmation, surprised but pleased that Kason knew one of his crewmembers names.

      "Hesom. Yes. He is very good. That's why he is on this run. We have excellent medics and surgeons but Hesom has a knack for working quite well in battlefield conditions." Quinst swept his hand towards the conference table come operating table.

      A chuckle issued from beneath the black helmet. "Battlefield conditions." Kason's voice repeated the phrase. It was spoken with humor but Quinst caught his slightly mocking tone. "Been in much worse Captain. Let us hope he is as effective under fire as he was here." Kason studied the medic Hesom as he continued working on the wounded Reaver. "He will be quite good someday." He said to no one in particular. Then sensing that he had slighted one of Quinst's best crewmembers, Kason quickly added. "I mean no disrespect Captain. Hesom is a very good senior Medic. He saved one of my men and for that I am grateful. What I meant was that experience will mold him further. Nothing more."

      "No offense taken," Quinst answered. "We've all done well today. Especially you and your Reaver team. Commander Parejas is quite impressed. I imagine the higher command is also satisfied with the results?"

      "Aye." Kason responded without the slight sarcasm of Quinst's remark about the high command. "The first victory is ours. The first step of a thousand." Kason paused and looked at the medical technician who approached them.

      The young medic looked apprehensive as she approached the pair of officers. "Pardon Commander," she spoke softly, "we must move the wounded man to the Orions Rage." Quinst cast the nervous medic a questioning look for stating such the obvious. She swallowed, pausing slightly before continuing. "Medic Hesom can't decide how to move the Reaver expediently without destabilizing him and our time is slipping out," she finished in a rush. Kason turned his back on Quinst and the female medic, walking back to the conference table to converse with the senior medic Hesom, who was gesturing at his team on frustration. "He's go to be moved! Hesom said loudly at his fellow medics, and also to the three Reavers who stood silently, conversing among themselves on their private Comm links. The irritation was plain on the face of the senior medic. "He's stable now but he needs additional medical care aboard the Orions Rage in a stasis field and a regenerative cell." Hesom tried to explain to the silent Reavers, towards whom Kason now approached.

      "But sir, one of the other medics interjected, "how can we transfer his to a maglev stretcher without jarring him? He has a serious spinal cord injury, deep abdominal lacerations and half a dozen more minor injuries. And if you haven't noticed he's not the smallest nor lightest patient." The medic jerked his head at the seven-foot dead weight frame on the conference table.

      Kason watched Hesom steeple his hands in front of his face, frowning in thought. Hesom gritted his teeth and started to fidget, probably unable to arrive at a suitable solution Kason concluded.

      A strong hand clamped down on Hesom's shoulder startling him. The Reaver Leader's arm rested heavily across both his shoulders. The armor biting into his neck uncomfortably. His head tilted conspiratorially next to the senior medic's. "Watch and learn."

      "Maddox. Kelan. The feet. Jens, the head." Kason directed without delay as he left Hesom's side to join Jens. Maddox and Kelan positioned themselves at the foot of the conference table as Jens and Kason met at the head. The conference table was about three meters long and two meters in width. The top slab was almost 2 inches thick, centrally fastened to a solid base half a meter wide that ran two-thirds the length of the table. Viewed from either end it looked like a T. Each of the four Reavers grasped a corner of the tabletop firmly.

      "Move the stretcher next to the table." Kason ordered the watching medics, who quickly hastened to obey.

      Hesom realized what Kason planned to do and in a panic blurted "The stretcher can only support…"

      "One thousand-one-hundred and forty kilograms," interjected Kason. "cycled at one-hundred and fifty percent capacity it can support one thousand seven-hundred and ten kilograms. More than enough to transport my wounded man plus the added weight of the table top Mr. Hesom." Finished Kason.

      Hesom panicked, fearing for the wounded Reaver on the table. "But the stretcher can only cycle at that rate for four and a half minutes! Screeched Hesom.

      "Which is forty-five seconds longer than it will take your team to transport my man to the sickbay on deck twelve aboard the Orions Rage," Finished Kason coolly.

      The conversation was ended by a wrenching squeal as the four Reavers grunted, lifting their wounded comrade and the entire tabletop from the base, which remained firmly anchored to the floor.