1stLt Samuel Woolheater – All the devil's are here
Radamio
((Sickbay - Deck 05 - USS Octavia E. Butler))
The door hissed shut behind Greaves, and the low pulse of Sickbay filled the silence he left behind. Woolheater took one slow breath and let it out, the kind of breath that cleared the noise and left only the job.
Around him, the air felt dense, recycled, and antiseptic, layered with the hum of biobeds and the soft clatter of medical tools. The tension didn’t vanish when the Colonel left; it just shifted weight, settled on Sam’s shoulders like another piece of gear. He rolled that weight into place without complaint. Marines didn’t need speeches or fanfare. They needed someone who stayed upright when things went sideways, someone who didn’t let the quiet turn into panic.
He scanned the room, four Dosi Mercenaries now twitching under restraints, med staff whispering over tricorders, Marines keeping rifles at a ready slump. His eyes made a full circuit before coming back to Doctor Nis. She was focused, razor-edged, and efficient, and that made his job simple: keep her alive, keep her working. He flexed his fingers once around the rifle grip, grounding himself in the rhythm he knew best: assess, protect, repeat. Whatever chaos was going to unfold topside, Sickbay was his perimeter now, and Marines were there to protect and defend. Commander Peri moved swiftly to talk with Doctor Nis.
Katsim: Have you examined the chemical composition? It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.
Nis: Response
Woolheater reviewed the deck listing and could guess where they were going to be thin. He left Marines in the Sickbay to make sure the Medical staff were secure. The rest he moved to the outside corridors. This area must be protected.
After a few minutes, he approached the two doctors quietly. He hated to interrupt them as they were so busy.
Katsim: We need to break it down to its simplest components.
He came around the station and stood near them.
Woolheater: Commander, Lieutenant, apologies for the interruption. There are four fresh Marines here to secure Sickbay. The rest of the fire team is out in the corridors. No phaser fire in here. Sergeant Torvik is the lead. I’ll be setting a perimeter and securing this deck. If you need me, well, I’ll be close by.
Nis: Response
Sam nodded and then excused himself to leave them alone to work.
Katsim: I recommend we take it from Vuq. Of all of them here, he’s the most severely affected.
One of the recent arrivals, the huge Dosi named ‘Vuq’, was shaking and convulsing on the biobed that Sam and Sgt Torvik had lifted him onto. He was in very bad shape, and he looked like he was in so much pain.
It was difficult for Sam to feel much pity for the man. He had killed four people and made a deal with the devil. What that deal exactly was would have to be sorted out once the man could speak again. He certainly didn’t look like he was going to be harming anyone anytime soon.
Woolheater: ::looks at Sgt Torvik:: Watch him!
Nis: Response
Katsim: Woolheater, keep guard on Doctor Nis.
The Commander’s words rang out. Every soul aboard a Starfleet vessel ultimately answered to the Captain and the chain that ran through her XO. That included Marines. Sam never forgot that. Rank was rank, and Commander Katsim Peri carried more of it on her collar than he did.
But the Colonel had left him orders: take charge of defense down here. In the tactical sense, that made this deck his AO. Marines reported to Marines until the situation changed or the Captain herself said otherwise.
He didn’t take Peri’s words as a challenge, just another moving piece in the larger order of things. She could advise, request, or redirect if it served the mission. But until someone countermanded Greaves directly, Sickbay’s security posture was his to hold. The chain of command was clear enough; the Commander ran the science, the doctor ran the medicine, and the Marines kept both of them alive to finish their jobs.
Katsim/Nis: Response?
Woolheater would’ve preferred to secure the deck himself, but the Commander’s request was sound. It was practical, and it made sense. She was a woman of few words. And when she did speak, she was usually pretty right about it. The last thing he wanted to be was in someone’s way. He turned his head and took a second to think, then nodding at the sound order, he thought it good.
Woolheater: Aye, Commander. I’ve got the Doc covered. ::to Sgt Torvik:: Sergeant, rotate your post to the north access and keep those mercs in your sights. I’ll take close protection for the doc.
They shifted positions, the movement crisp and practiced. Sam took up a defensive stance beside Nis, rifle angled low, eyes sweeping the room. It wasn’t easy, not with the med team crowding around Vuq, the sound of monitors, and the tension that hung in the recycled air. But it was the job, and Woolheater did the job.
Katsim/Nis: Response?
Seeing the problem, Sam slung his rifle and went to the head of the biobed. There, he put one hand on Dosi’s forehead and the other on his shoulder to help steady him.
Woolheater: Easy now, medics are trying to help you.
Sam was careful to watch the restraints, and he made sure they were on.
Katsim/Nis: Response?
===
((Meanwhile – Deck 07 – Main Brig))
The brig was quiet in that way, only a pressure-sealed room full of restrained hostiles could be.
Four Security guards held the line, posted around eight Dosi mercenaries packed two to a cell. The air was thick with disinfectant and stale sweat, a recycled tang that clung to the skin. The lights were set to half-illumination, a precaution in case the prisoners’ photo-sensitive eyes acted up again.
The Dosi were strong, broad-shouldered, restless, and sick. Most lay slumped on bunks, gray-skinned and trembling from the poison still coursing through them. The guards moved carefully, keeping distance as they logged identifications and ran tricorder checks. The situation was under control, but barely.
At the far end of the row, three mercenaries sat apart. Their color was better. No shaking. No sweat. Just quiet observation, eyes flicking toward one another in unspoken rhythm. When the overhead comm crackled, a short burst of static followed by a coded tone only their implants could parse, each Dosi stiffened almost imperceptibly. Then, one by one, they doubled over.
The guards surged forward, too late.
Each Dosi retched violently, vomiting up a viscous green mass that hit the deck with a wet slap. The liquid shimmered as it spread, bubbling like acid, then pulled itself together, coalescing into shapes that weren’t supposed to exist outside nightmares.
From the puddles rose slick, translucent wings, algae reforming into bird-like constructs, their edges sharp as blades, their movements jerky but purposeful. It was the same algae like mass from the Vault back on Marohu III.
The first one shrieked, a sound halfway between static and a scream, and launched itself at the nearest guard. The room erupted.
Phasers flared. One guard went down, a talon of living algae tearing into his sleeve as the weapon discharged. Another “bird” hit the ceiling and scattered into droplets, only to reform again mid-air. The three Dosi seized the chaos, slamming the cell release controls and breaking into the corridor before the backup field could cycle.
The algae creatures followed, gliding after them like hunting hawks made of emerald light.
The three fugitives sprinted through junction after junction. They dove into an open access panel, sliding into the Jefferies Tubes and vanishing into the narrow metallic maze of the ship.
They moved fast, guided by instinct or something worse, crawling through dimly lit conduits as the ship’s heartbeat pulsed around them. At last, they dropped from an access hatch into Deck 12 just outside the doors to Environmental Control. The room was a cavern of humming filters and plasma manifolds, the perfect place to disappear…or sabotage.
((Deck 12 - Environmental Controls))
Behind them, the last of the algae birds slithered through the vent and perched on a console, wings quivering in the recycled air. One by one, the others joined it, their shapes twisting and merging until the flickering wings folded inward. The mass convulsed, stretched, and took on the outline of a humanoid figure. It was rough, uneven, and pulsing with bioluminescent veins of green light. Not like the algae from before. This creature had been twisted by its master. It had been lied too.
For a moment it stood motionless, head tilting as if listening to something only it could hear. Then, with a faint crackle of static and the hiss of venting gas, the creature reached for the nearest control panel. Its movements were deliberate. Purposeful. And it meant to kill all of them.
Whatever message had been hidden in that bridge signal was being
carried out now.
Rll’Toal’Dius’s next phase had begun.
Rll'Toal'Dius: Response?
--
Scout Sniper / Infantry Officer
MARDET, Starfleet Marine Corps
USS Octavia E. Butler NCC-82850