Unknown
Chapter Five: Stalwart
I was surprised at how resolute the previously-shaking creature became while it worked: not only were its motions steady, but it seemed unfazed by the seriousness of the injury. In tandem, those two facts led me to believe that the yellow creature was some sort of healer, or even their equivalent of a doctor.
The other creature, though... I had no idea what the purpose of its presence was. I knew that it watched me far more than it watched the operating procedure, even though it tried to look away whenever I glanced at it. Even when it wasn't attempting to sneakily observe me, its head was on a swivel, trying to look at everything else at once.
I gave the blue-green creature the benefit of the doubt that it wasn't on some sort of intelligence-gathering mission, and was just excessively curious. Its jaw remained slack for an extended period of time as it stared at the cryogenic chambers. I think it might've drooled a little, too.
By my estimates, it took a little under an hour for the yellow creature to finish its task. In that time, it used three different bottles of what had to be medicine, two of which were coaxed down the woman's throat, and the last spread over the stump of her left arm before having bandages wrapped around it. The third salve was also rubbed into the lesser injuries around her neck and on her face.
After the yellow one finished coating the last incision and packed up the bottles of medicine, the two creatures were quick to take their leave. I didn't bother escorting them back to the Hangar: there was nothing for them to break that wasn't already broken, and I didn't want to leave the crew member alone again. They knew the way now: I didn't believe they would get lost.
I would find some way to thank them for their services in the future, for unless they inexplicably enjoyed broken machine parts, I had nothing to offer them presently. I watched the two—if not friendly, then at least helpful—aliens until they disappeared out of my sight around a corner. Crouching down beside the unconscious woman, I looked her over.
There was an air of peace surrounding her, but not the kind that some people acquired post-death: she looked relaxed, and a lively glow had replaced her ghostly visage. Ignoring the numerous cuts and bruises, and the missing portion of her left arm, she looked almost healthy. A shiver ran through her body, so I pulled the makeshift blanket up to her neck.
Whatever concoctions the yellow one used, they definitely worked.
With practiced movements, I put my armour back on piece-by-piece. The padding on the inside was the closest thing I had to a bed, and despite its bulkiness, sleeping in the armour would be easier than sleeping on the frigid floor.
Both myself and the aliens had done everything we could. The woman's life now squarely rested in her own hands. It was up to her whether she woke up or not.
I closed my eyes, and hoped I wouldn't wake up next to another corpse.
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I felt something on my face. Something warm. Opening my eyes, I winced and looked away when sunlight came to greet me. I sat up and looked around, one hand shading my eyes from the brightness.
I was outside, in the middle of a grassy plain. There wasn't a landmark in sight: the grass rolled endlessly in all directions.
I blinked, and two rounded slabs of stone jutted from the ground in front of me, rising like the dead. Tombstones. Swallowing my dread, I stood up and walked closer.
One headstone was unmarked, but had a musical instrument leaning against it—some sort of harp?
The other had a number engraved in a large, simple font. My number. There was also a Juggernaut helmet half-buried in the dirt. My helmet.
I looked at my hands. They were nothing but bones. I felt the wind on my back, and piece-by-piece, I turned into dust and was carried away by the breeze.
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I woke up with a bitter taste in my mouth and the feeling that I had swallowed a bucket of dust. Propping myself up with an elbow, I wiped away the cold sweat from my brow.
These nightmares were getting out of hand. There was still a syringe of desomorphine remaining. Maybe it would work as a sleeping aid.
I glanced at the woman beside me. She looked like she hadn't moved a muscle, and her breathing was still steady. I sighed. At least one of us was sleeping soundly.
I had no idea what time it was, and my throat felt like sandpaper, so I decided to briefly foray into the Kitchen for water and peek into the Hangar to see the position of the sun. I doubted that the crew member would wake: she slept like a rock, and did not stir even with me clanking around.
The water was easy enough to acquire. There were numerous barrels of it strewn around the wreckage that was the Kitchen, with convenient, easy-access stoppers included. I took several swigs. The ache in my throat slowly subsided. Thirst quenched, I replaced the stopper and tucked the barrel underneath my arm. As I started walking towards the Hangar, my eye caught a flash of colour among the endless grey. Wondering what it could be, I dug it out of the surrounding rubble and held it in my hand.
It was a Rubik's cube. I rotated it a few times. The colours were as mixed as could be, and there were chips on quite a few of the squares, but it was otherwise intact. It must've belonged to one of the many crew members before the crash. I briefly wondered how I failed to notice it before. Maybe the horse aliens unearthed it by accident. Seeing as how I had nothing else to go by, that explanation was the one I chose.
After a moment of indecision, I placed the Rubik's cube in an empty pouch on my chest. Perhaps they would find the difficulty in the cube's simplicity amusing, if they were even capable of twisting it on their own. It wasn't the most thoughtful or elaborate gift, but it was something. Hopefully they didn't think it was harmful.
Continuing through the Arming Room and into the Hangar, I saw that the sun was almost set. Sighing, I returned to the Cryogenic Chamber Room. I wasn't eager to return to sleep's dark embrace considering the nightmares I had the last three times I slept. My continued sanity was worth the price of ruining my sleep schedule.
I placed the water barrel down as gently as I could manage. I spotted a metal cup on the floor. If she was half as thirsty as I was after wakening, she would want water immediately, and the barrel would be too cumbersome for her. A cup to hold it would be a necessity. I grabbed it and placed it beside the barrel before checking on the sleeping woman. She looked like she had twisted and turned since I had left, but she was still asleep, albeit not soundly. Scanning the room, I wondered what I could do to kill the time before she woke up.
My eyes froze at a cryo chamber on the far right.
Amidst a pile of broken glass laid the naked corpse that I had first set eyes on after waking from cryosleep. The face was shredded, and the features unrecognizable, but two dead eyes burned a hole into me. Crouching down, I grabbed the right arm and twisted it to see the underside of the forearm. Sure enough, there was the number nine stamped into the flesh with black ink. He had no dog tag. None of us did.
I felt my own stamp burn emphatically underneath my armour. I remembered Nine. Even for a Juggernaut, he had been quiet. Solemn, even. I bowed my head and placed a hand over my heart. I had nothing to say.
Placing a hand underneath Nine's armpits, I dragged him out of broken glass and shredded metal towards the non-functioning, empty cryogenic chamber beside his. Straining, I heaved the husk of Nine into the chamber. After repositioning his limbs, I was able to seal the door. Out of sight, but not out of mind.
I wondered what happened to the rest of my kin, the other Juggernauts. There were ten of us on the ship, but I had only found Nine. Where were the rest?
Before I could think more on the topic, I heard a sputtering cough followed by a single word.
"Hello?"
She was waking up. Swallowing my nervousness, I walked over and kneeled beside her makeshift bed, in reach of the water. I took off my helmet, but did not speak.
The woman looked at me first with confusion, but it was quickly swept aside by recognition. Her right hand quested out of the cloth and gingerly touched my forearm before withdrawing. "You're real," she whispered. She sounded surprised.
I nodded.
"I'm not dead."
I nodded again.
"You saved me."
I hesitated before nodding. I figured it was best to keep the circumstances of her recovery to myself for the time being.
"Thank you." Her brown eyes were bright and expecting an answer.
I didn't know how to respond. Breaking eye-contact, I undid the stopper on the barrel and poured some water into the cup. I spilled a little, but I didn't care. The crew member was alive; there was no sense lamenting over spilled water.
"What are you doing?" she asked as she struggled to sit up. She managed it on the second try.
Instead of answering, I offered her the cup. She reached out to grab it—and stopped dead with her right hand almost touching the proffered metal handle. Her eyes were locked onto the stump of her left arm which was also pointing towards the cup.
"Oh," she breathed. "Right. That." After taking a deep breath, she exhaled, grasped the cup with her right hand, and drank.
I didn't expect a reaction like that. She took in the information that her arm was severed better than most soldiers. I silently applauded her mental fortitude.
When she finished drinking, she sighed contentedly and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "My name is Catherine. What's yours? I'd like to know the name of the person responsible for saving my life."
"I don't have a name," I replied. My voice was rough with disuse.
Catherine frowned. "How can you not have a name?"
"Do you know what I am?" I asked quietly.
Her eyes fluttered over my armoured form. She nodded. "Yes. You're a Juggernaut. So what?"
"Juggernauts don't have names. We have numbers."
Catherine was silent for almost a minute. "Then what do I call you?" she finally asked.
I glanced at the number that was engraved into my shoulder pauldron. It was the same number that was stamped into my forearm all those years ago.
"You can call me Six."