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"Flesh"
The doctor pulled the sheet back over the body, sighing as he wrote something into his electronic notepad. Daniels was the man’s name. Identifying the body would have been difficult, if not for the presence of everyone else serving at the base. Mangled from the torso up, the body was split open rather crudely, seemingly from a laser cutter, used to roughly sever apart the tissues in his face. Cedres, the doctor, had seen many injuries in his lifetime more horrendous than this; the horrible sight did not faze him. Only a week before, a new squad from Mars, escapees from the Cybrid invasion there, arrived to reinforce the cold, isolated base in the arctic where they now all resided. The imperial squad suspected these dust-born rebels of the murder, although nothing had been said as of yet. Daniels, the victim, had been the engineer in the imperial crew. Certainly not one of the imp’s own would kill him; their very survival depended on the survival of their peers, especially in this abominable place. The inside of the base was quite warm, almost hot, due to the almost constant activity of maintenance equipment and the lack of proper ventilation. There was an environmental conditioning system, of course, but it rarely exerted even half its capacity. Venturing outside without a protective suit was an invitation for almost instant death; the cold seemed to have increased its fury as of late. A week before this occurred, the Martian crew had found their equipment disassembled and scattered about the vehicle bay without their permission, leaving them next to useless for combat. The dusters blamed Daniels specifically, as he was the only person with a real motivation towards examining their gear. This was evidence enough for the other two imps, although Cedres was not so sure. Motivation towards murder was not an easy thing to accumulate, even in these times of war, and especially not over something so trivial. Cedres had not known Daniels for long, although he was aware of him through his friendship with Nathan, another one of the imps stationed with him at the base. Nathan had been friends with Daniels since childhood, and was taking the news of his murder particularly hard. Cedres felt badly for him, and almost ashamed that he didn’t feel the same remorse as he did. The last of the imps, Keys, so known for his collection of keys to all varieties of equipment and storage areas, seemed more concerned with blaming the dusters than actually being concerned about his squadmate’s demise. He had always been a hothead, and was currently fuming in the break room. ----- Placing the notepad on the counter, Cedres heard a violent storm of noise coming from two rooms over; it was definitely Keys’ voice. Moving through the doorless frame of his office entrance, he made his way through the medical storage into the break room, locating an infuriated Keys. He stood over the main table, slamming a single fist into its soft, durable metal covering as he pointed the other finger at an unfortunate duster. “-twenty-four years old!” Keys continued, apparently referring to Daniels. “Peak of his youth, and for what!? So one of your bastards could steal it away!” “None of us killed your damned friend!” shouted back the duster, but in a lowered tone that seemed to indicate control. He obviously wanted to calm down Keys and not provoke a fight, but was not especially in the mood to do so. “Why would we want to kill that boy, huh!? Screwing up our gear is one thing, but splittin’ a boy down the middle is another!” Indeed, Daniels was remarkably young for a soldier. Everyone else at the base, with the exception of Nathan, was at least in their late 30s or early 40s. Cedres himself was forty-eight. “I’ve heard enough of your lies, dust! I know none of us killed that boy, and I sure ain’t going to let you do the same to us!” As he spoke these last words, he sent a punch over the table, forgetting the obstacle between them. Keys tumbled over the table as the Martian backed away. Cedres felt a guilty pleasure in laughing at Keys’ obstinance, although he recognized the seriousness of the situation. Picking up Keys as he tried to rise up, Cedres turned the large man around and shook him, creating a jingling noise as the keys in the man’s pocket shook as well. “Get a hold of yourself, Keys!” the doctor shouted, half restraining a smile. “You’re acting like a damned fool!” Keys eyes widen, first in rage, and then in realization. “S-sorry, doc,” he muttered, backing away and turning towards the Martian. “I ain’t done with you.” Keys stormed out of the room. He was heading back to his room, Cedres thought. ----- “Sorry about that,” Cedres said, making a motion for the man to follow him. “He gets that way sometimes. What’s your name again?” The Martians had only been at the station for a couple of weeks, and Cedres rarely had the time to speak with them. “Vicks,” he replied, sighing. He said nothing else. “...Listen, I know you guys certainly haven’t felt welcomed here so far, but don’t fret about it too much. The boys at central ripped you out of Mars and threw you down here without much of any consent on your part, so I don’t blame you for being frustrated. But you also have to see our perspective too.” “I do.” Cedres stared for a moment; Vicks seemed sincere. “I know I certainly didn’t kill Daniels,” Cedres began, “and I know Nathan wouldn’t. They’ve been friends for who knows how long. Keys... well, he’s just Keys. He’s good on the inside.” “None of us killed that man, doctor. Could it have been an accident?” The two arrived in the doctor’s office. Cedres pulled back the sheet and watched Vicks’ expression. “...You tell me.” Vicks seemed repulsed by what lay on the table. A mangled mess of destroyed organs and fused muscle fibers, there was still a slightly visible expression of fear on a now cleaved face. The eyes pointed in opposite directions, although at the time of death, they undoubtedly stared into the face of Daniels’ killer. “Christ and Hunter. What a mess,” Vicks finally managed. “I’ve seen worse. Not much worse, but worse. ...And you’re sure none of your squad could have done this?” Vicks thought for a moment. “I... don’t think so. I mean, we’ve all known one another all our lives, but you can never know someone entirely.” “Right... Let’s get a group meeting together and talk about this. I have to send in a report to HQ, and I want all the details I can manage. Let’s not get you guys into unnecessary trouble if we can help it.” “...Of course.” Vicks turned and walked out of the room; his foundations of faith had obviously wavered in their resolution. Cedres appreciated the man’s candor, although at this time, he could not write any one of them off as innocent. |
