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Here you'll find
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Mount Robillard
32. An Aftershock"We're really grateful that you could whisk Edmé and his team over at such a short notice," Orwel said as the three men walked slowly out of the Command Center. "I frankly don't know what we'd done without them. Rori was getting nearly frantic as it were, after all he's primarily a mentalist even though he's got his fair share of dealing with physical trauma as well.""Well, it's a good thing anyway that he was here to give first aid," Osip said. "Yes, and to start converting the more intact rooms of the T-building into a suitable place for treatment, even before the medics proper rushed in," Orwel added "So, how's Vanya? We don't know much beyond hearing that his injuries were the worst," Arria asked. "I think that was about all André managed to send before he collapsed. I hope he's all right, by the way?" "Pulled himself together wonderfully," Orwel assured them. "Those other TC's really need him, especially the five youngsters. The baby's in the ward, and so is the adult TC they found there, but he's in isolation. Still suffering from the aftereffects of a recent wipe, Rori's been mostly looking after him and let André deal with his kids." "What's he like?" Osip asked, curious. "I mean, you have met him, haven't you?" "Not really," Orwel said. "He's feeling totally drained, sick, all that. I imagine it's something like a really bad attack of migraine several times over hypersensitive to light, loud sounds, smells, just about everything." "But what about Vanya?" Arria demanded sharply. "I think you're avoiding the question, Orwel, and that really makes me dread the answer." Orwel sighed. "He's in Intensive Care," he said unhappily. "The delay in getting proper medical attention, plus all that banging around towards the end of the heaviest action, they didn't really do him good. Rori's feeling terrible about it, thinks he should've stayed behind to look after Vanya. But I can't really see what good anyone could've done in that transport, and besides André needed him. And Corinn... well, Corinn is miserable. Do you think you could send Fonzo here? Honestly, Corinn's spooking me. It's hit me that all the banter aside, those two must mean a lot more to each other than anyone may have realized." "We'll call Fonzo here still today," Osip said. "Besides, he might be interested in meeting the MC's, too!" "Sure would!" Arria agreed. "Of course Fonzo will be loath to leave Shaun behind, but then, maybe Shaun wants to come, too? After all, Scott's here as well." "Yes, and our new lean, mean killing machine!" Osip grinned, then gasped when large hands shot out to grab him by the throat and slammed him with vicious force against the wall so hard that his breath escaped with a grunt. He blinked and found himself at the receiving end of a stare that was akin to being skewered with a foot-thick icicle. "Don't you ever, ever, say that again!" Orwel hissed to his brother's astonished face, eyes striking lightning. "You hear me? Don't let him hear that or I swear you'll be dead meat! I know you won't be able to imagine yourself in his boots, but for godssakes, at least try to! He's no killer, Osip. He's a sweet, nice, gentle guy who's just managed to get himself entangled in this fucking mess, a sweet guy who's developed this incredible ability to rise to the occasion. I truly don't know how he held himself together, but he went through it all. All of it, Osip. He was out there watching Vanya's back when they set those explosives, he saw Vanya get severely hurt, he was by my side the whole time, he shot and killed without a blink of hesitation and saw men die by his hand, he saved my skin at least three times with his reflexes and quick finger, he got wounded, and after that I still pushed him to go on fighting and he did, Osip. I didn't feel for a moment that I couldn't trust him. One of our few true civilians. He held together through it all..." Orwel's voice broke, his bruising hold loosened abruptly and the fury on his face seeped away. Osip hadn't moved a finger, but when Orwel let go of him and made to turn away, he grabbed his brother by the elbow. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I guess I'm an insensitive bastard. Just so used to sowing crude jokes around because they help me get over things. Should remember that they don't work for everybody." "I'm sorry," Orwel said and rubbed his neck absently. "I know that's your way of dealing with it but please, Osip, don't do it around him. Lancer's had a bad night. Broke down completely, so bad that Scott was alarmed enough to call me." He gave Osip a slanted look. "All those dead S-clones, I think that's what did it. Seeing dozens of Scott lookalikes be slaughtered in cold blood in front of his eyes was pretty bad, you know, trying to protect them and oh fuck." Orwel's voice jittered and he snapped his mouth shut. Arria had been watching the outburst in silence, ready to act but opting not to, and he finally dared to sigh a little. "Lancer's at the ward, too?" he asked. "Yeah, his leg's been taken care of and now he just needs painkillers and rest," Orwel said. "He had a sort of panic attack last night. I called Monah, she gave him a sedative to knock him out and he looked a bit better this morning. Go easy on him, please." "Wouldn't dream of anything else," Osip murmured. He gave his brother's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Didn't have a good night yourself, I suppose?" "Especially after that, no," Orwel admitted. "Luckily I wasn't injured and didn't have much time to sit down and brood. Such a lot of things to keep me busy, putting the MC's to work, getting the bodies away and everything cleaned enough, plus the SC's, Thank goodness for Blaine, he's been a great help." "Do you trust him?" Arria asked. Orwel shrugged wearily. "Of course not," he said. "But he seems to have done exactly what Lancer told him to. Looking after the welfare of the clones and refusing to think about anything else. He realizes he's completely alone, and besides, meeting Adam gave him one hell of a jolt. Shock of a lifetime, really. To see all those M-clones he's been dealing with on a daily basis, and suddenly understanding that there's a million things he's never had any idea about." Orwel shook his head with a quiet chuckle. "All this under his nose, practically a separate culture, among people he's always thought of as some kind of semi-robots, incapable of real thought. He's sure to think ten times twice before attempting anything stupid. And besides, he really feels for the kids." He paused to let the two Commanders go outside. Arria stopped and squinted a little when light reflected from the windows of the building opposite to them. The big, ugly hole in its wall was rapidly disappearing, a team of M-clones busy at work with it. Arria frowned a little in an effort to decide what was so strange about them, and then he understood: they worked in nearly complete silence. Hardly a word passed between them and yet their movements seemed perfectly synchronized, efficient and economic. It was a fascinating sight. Arria didn't want to know how exactly the human gene pattern had been tweaked to produce these enhanced men with their uncanny abilities, their flair for anything technological and man-made, their need to keep things in order, to repair, reconstruct, maintain. Nor did he know what had been traded off to make them peaceful, compliant, obedient and non-aggressive. The M-clones were simply different, and the rebels just had to learn how to deal with these different people and their extraordinary skills their new allies. "Arria!" Osip's nudge startled him out of his thoughts. "Come on, let's go." "Yeah," Arria voiced and continued towards the T-clone complex turned hospital. The rooms in it had been used for housing T-clones before and after priming and wiping, and luckily they hadnt been damaged by the transport ramming through the outer wall. They also contained the most state-of-art medical equipment that could be found in the Base it was the ideal location for an impromptu hospital. Edmé smiled in greeting when he saw the three men approaching. He was willing to wager that at least Arria was completely oblivious to what a sight they made, and what their positions seemed to imply. There was Arria, slim, blond and with an air of reassuring confidence, flanked by the looming presence of two tall, impressive brothers Dahomey who seemed to keep by his side but were in fact letting Arria spearhead the formation. Of course Arria was clearly shorter than the two but still... The doctor couldn't help wondering if the body language didn't subtly signify something more than mere courtesy, and whether it was intentional or not. Somehow the dark doctor suspected that the effect was well calculated, though not by the man at the front. Edmé was forced to let the Commanders simmer in their curiosity concerning the new T-clones for a while longer, because he knew that André was still resting with the five youngsters who'd remained practically glued to him. The six of them made an absolutely breathtaking sight, snuggled together in a mass of slim bodies and flowing golden hair, but the doctor was sure that anyone approaching them would certainly wake them up. André definitely needed the rest. By way of compensation he allowed them a brief glance at the baby TC who lay slumbering in his bed. The nasty bruise on his head, partly covered by short blond curls, looked somehow sacrilegious on him. Edmé had reason to add two more names in his list of 'people charmed by baby T' when both Osip and Arria's seemed to melt completely as the blue eyes blinked sleepily at them. "Vanya's here," he said as he stopped in front of another door. "And Corinn, of course. We can't stay long, but I'll give you a couple of minutes anyway." The large form slumped to the side of the bed didn't stir when the door opened to let the four men in. He'd pulled a chair next to the bed and looked extremely uncomfortable, long legs folded to squeeze the chair as close as possible, back bent, upper body resting on the side of the mattress, left arm across Vanya's stomach and the other crooked so that he could somehow hold the man's hand and press his cheek against it. The whole arrangement gave the onlookers muscle spasms for mere sympathy, but it didn't prevent Corinn from being in deep sleep. Edmé smiled ruefully. "At least he's asleep now," he said in a low voice. "I doubt if he's slept a wink before this, ever since they left Robillard yesterday morning. But he's going to twist himself into a corkscrew like that." Osip stepped closer and touched the man's broad shoulder but Corinn merely hummed in discontent and burrowed deeper into his arms. A second touch, light shake, made him raise his head and blink, then he tried to shoot up but grimaced at the protest of his abused back. "You'd better lie down somewhere, Corinn, before you fall down" Arria said. "Commanders!" Corinn brushed his mussed hair back, recomposed all parts of his body into their correct positions, and stood stiffly up. "You're here already?" "You sure need rest, Corinn, if you didn't hear us landing in that pretty two-pilot fighter that you and Fonzo put together a year ago," Osip smiled. "Wanted to see you all, and this place, and tell you that you're officially our heroes now." "You six did an incredible job," Arria joined in. "Absolutely awesome." Corinn flashed a smile, a bit shy and more than a little embarrassed. "Didn't do nothing," he protested. "It was the other guys who did the hard work." "Don't you try," Osip admonished. "You did more than your part, and besides, that cannon in the Roadrunner was a real surprise touch! Damn useful, too, I doubt if we'd managed to destroy all those escaping transports in that weather. And in any case it would've taken us much longer to notice that anything was happening, if you hadn't been there to blast that first one into smithereens." Corinn grinned a little, unhappily, then turned to look at Edmé who had gone around the bed to check on Vanya. "Is he gonna be all right?" he asked throatily. Osip noticed Arria's eyes closing for a second at the naked desperation of the question. Edmé nodded absently, eyes on the device logging his patient's vital functions, pressed a couple of buttons and turned again to them. "He's a fighter, Corinn, you know that," the doctor said reassuringly. "He's stable, and now he just needs time. We're keeping him in coma for a few days to get him over the worst. Keeping all sensory load away, you know, so that his body can fully concentrate on healing." Corinn nodded dully and sat down again, hand ghosting to touch a bronzed arm that rested limply on the bed. "You really ought to have something to eat, and then go lie down," Orwel suggested. "Yeah, Cap, in a while." Corinn didn't turn to look after them when they exited and gave each other meaningful looks as soon as the door was safely closed behind them. "You see what I mean?" Orwel said pointedly. "That man will be in pieces before Vanya comes round enough to talk sense to him." "You're right," Arria nodded. "We'd better get Fonzo here, double quick. He and Corinn go back a long way, and if somebody can shake Corinn out of that, it's Fonzo." "Edmé, Vanya is going to be okay, isn't he?" Osip asked. The doctor looked the dark commander straight in the eye. "He's not too well," he said calmly. "He was already rather deep in unconsciousness by the time we got here. But it's not hopeless, and that's why we're keeping him in a drug-induced coma. The main thing now is to reduce that swelling so that the intracranial pressure gets back to normal. But he's a strong, very fit man and I have all confidence in his recovery. In all truth, if we were still in Robillard I wouldn't be half so hopeful, but this place is marvelously supplied and equipped. Even if we didn't get any supplies for a good while, we'd still be pretty well off, unless something truly catastrophic happens." Arria squared his shoulders and pulled himself up from his brooding hunch. "Which reminds me that we've still got a lot to do today," he said with quiet determination. "We have this base to figure out, how we're going to organize things, and all that. We won this battle, but we can't afford to get cocky." Arria sighed and rubbed his head, shook it a little. "The Union is sure to retaliate, as soon as news of this spread." This time Edmé quite distinctly saw the two brothers exchange a wink over the blond man's head. "You're right, Commander," Osip said evenly. "We need to get organized quickly and plan our defense strategy." "However," Orwel added, "I think we've pretty well managed to keep the events here in the dark, as far as the Union is concerned. All communications were interrupted at a rather early stage, so we can hope that whatever slipped out by then wasn't too alarming. Of course the fact that the place has fallen silent is in itself pretty damning , but maybe it manages to at least throw them off a little?" "Commanders!" All three whirled around hearing Scott's delighted voice. The dark clone smiled broadly to them over his burden, a tray packed with carefully covered and lidded cups and bowls. "Scott, so good to see you!" Osip said. "Taking food to Lancer and yourself, hmm? Let me carry that, we were going to come and see you both anyway." Scott relinquished the tray into Osip's big hands and led them towards a room a little further away from the main ward. He looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes, but walked with easy confidence to the door and pressed the opening button. The door slid open and revealed a room that was an exact replica of the one Vanya had been placed in. Lancer was huddled on the bed, face pale and hair hanging loose, looking ill and exhausted. For a moment he stared at the new arrivals with slightly dazed eyes, but brightened considerably when Scott sat down by him and wrapped an arm around his bare shoulders. "Look, Lancer, the Commanders are here!" Scott said eagerly. "I got us something to eat, too. You must be hungry by now." Lancer watched as Osip placed the tray on the table next to the bed and swallowed. "I'm not sure I can eat anything, Scott," he murmured. "Yes you can, Edmé said that you should eat now," Scott urged. "You will have lunch together with me." "That's right, Scott," Edmé nodded. "Even if you can't eat much, take at least something. And drink, Lancer. Otherwise I'll have to put you on IV." Lancer picked up one of the bowls, wrinkled his nose at the smell wafting up and put it down again. "I can't, honest." "How's your leg?" Arria said casually and sat down in a chair on the other side of the bed. "I don't know," Lancer grimaced. "I guess we're not on speaking terms. Can't feel the damn thing at all." Osip raised his eyebrows at the attempt of humor and smiled. "I know," he said sympathetically. "It's a rather funny feeling, to know sort of theoretically that it's there but that's all. But believe me, it'd be a lot worse if you could actually feel it." Lancer looked up to him and smiled feebly. "I guess so," he sighed and accepted a mug from a frowning Scott. He drank from it, then noticed that everyone around was watching him, and pursed his lips in annoyance. "Hey, cut that off! It's not like I was dying or something!" Scott hugged him tight, Lancer blinked and raised an unsteady hand to push his fingers into Scott's dark hair. Arria noticed the furtive glance he stole at Orwel and swallowed. Good god, he's ashamed. He's ashamed of what happened in the night, and Scott is afraid that it'll happen again and he doesn't know how to help. Arria stood up from his chair and sat down on the bed, next to Lancer. "No, you're not," he said softly. "But we hate to see you hurt, Lancer. It's not fair, after everything you went through already. You've got so much to deal with, even without being injured. I really admire you. We've pushed you so incredily hard, but you've everything anyone could have expected and then some, and I know very few people who'd have been able to equal your performance." Lancer's head sank forward so that the ragged bangs hid his face, and Arria snaked an arm around his shoulders that had begun to shake. "I, for one, wouldn't have made it," he continued. "I know it. No matter what, I wouldn't have been able to stand up and keep my friends safe. Ask Osip, he knows how I get when I hear people getting killed not even see, just hear it. It's so horribly difficult to handle, and you don't get over it in a snap. But it's easier when you don't have to deal with it alone. It's okay to let it out." Scott looked intently at Arria over the silver-blond head, hanging on his every word, and nodded slowly. He pulled the shuddering Lancer in his arms and just held him, let his fingers run through the silky hair. "I feel so bloody stupid." Lancer's voice from somewhere behind the hair and Scott's arms was tight and scared. "I mean, I'm still alive, and everybody's still alive, and all is well and good, so what fucking reason do I have to cry? Why do I feel like I'm going crazy?" "It's called backlash," Osip said calmly. "You've been in an extremely dangerous situation for a long time, you've had reason to panic over and over again, seen terrible things happen and been forced to do things you wouldn't have wanted, but you were too busy staying alive to react to them right then. All that stress comes out afterwards, when you are safe. It's normal, Lancer, nothing stupid about it." Scott closed his eyes, instinctively rocking his body a little as he held the trembling young man close. It's normal, he repeated to himself. It's normal, Lancer will be all right, it will just take time. He decided that tomorrow, he must ask the Commanders for more information. He needed information, so that he would know how to help Lancer get all right again. Mine. He's mine, and I want him back like he should be. I want him to be all right.
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