A Defiant 'Verse - In Character II
POSTED BY: Defiant2thelast
UPDATED: Wednesday, September 2, 2009 03:26
VIEWED: 15041
PAGE 4 of 4
Lincoln was just about to ask the captain what he wanted to do about the Alliance when the young woman careened to a stop right in from of him, hands out and up, her eyes were wide and he face was pale. He took her by the elbow firmly but gently to steady her as she stammered out something to do with a man, the infirmary and a woman. It took him a beat to gather what she was saying, it all came together as he look at the blood on her shoe. It looked fresh.
"Show me." He said almost stoically. "Nathan?" He added, glancing over to the captain.
The younger woman led him to the other side of the cargo bay, past the strewn about crates and cases. He noted the bloody footprints and then swore as he stubbed a toe on a broken tie-down that was sticking up. He shimmied around a large box of survey equipment and saw the Doc was laying face up on the deck. The first thing he noticed when he saw her body was the considerable amount of blood surrounding it, she was bleeding out. Was she even still alive?He looked in her blank, motionless eyes and found his answer. He'd seen that stare before, it was burned into his memory, surfacing in nightmares, waking and asleep, when he least expected. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath then looked to Dale, who was standing next to the scarred girl, staring at the departed doctor.
"Oh dear." He spoke softly.
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"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein
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Dale had almost made it to the stairs out of the cargo bay with scar-face when he glanced back at Mrs Holliday. He didnt know why he did, but it was probably somewhere between morbid curiosity and a final farewell to the shipmate, instructor and friendly source of discomfort that he'd never get to know.
Lincoln had just arrived there, and he could see the tragedy of it all elegantly unfurling across his face.
"Oh dear" Dale saw him say.
Even now, no- especially now, Lincoln would be the gentle one. It was why Dale liked him so much more than the man by the ramp. He cared. He made the crew a bit more like family.
Dale could see only sadness and pity in that face.
Lincoln looked up at him. Sad brown eyes reaching out to Dale's own. He felt a resurge of defiance to the alliance who'd engineered this destruction and despair. Swallowing hard and feeling his anger solidify once more into determination, Dale turned back towards the infirmary. Gesturing to see if scarface was ready to continue, he began to help her down the stairs.
He needed to move quick to be ready before the alliance boarded. Lincoln felt only sadness.
The Doc would need a different avenger- Dale
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