Deep Dark Deep Down Part 2

Posted on Tue Jul 21st, 2026 @ 2:14am by Captain Wolfe Sean

652 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: The Hand That Rocks The Babe
Location: Velis III Government District.

An uneasy silence settled over the underground bunker.

It wasn't the silence of peace. The acrid smell of burnt plasma still hung heavily in the recycled air, mingling with smoke, dust and the metallic scent of blood. Somewhere farther down the corridor, a ruptured conduit hissed intermittently while damaged lighting panels flickered overhead, bathing the shattered passageways in alternating bands of pale white and crimson emergency illumination.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, no one was shooting.

Neither side had won. Neither side possessed the strength to continue but the defenders didn't need to, the marines were trapped with nowhere to go. Time had become the new weapon.

Wolfe sat with his back against a fractured support column. His breathing was slow but laboured, each breath accompanied by a dull ache that radiated through his ribs. The battle had taken its toll.

His body had absorbed more punishment than he cared to count. Beneath the equipment, however, was where the true damage lay. A medic knelt beside him, carefully cutting away sections of the torn combat undersuit.

"You really should have let someone else take point, sir," the young corpsman muttered quietly.

Wolfe managed the ghost of a smile. "And deny you all this paperwork?" The medic simply shook his head before continuing his work. A narrow stab wound along Sean's right side had already soaked through several field dressings before the bleeding was finally brought under control. Another blade had found the outside of his left thigh during the fighting, forcing the medic to inject a coagulant before wrapping the injury tightly enough that standing had become an exercise in stubborn determination rather than good judgment. Cuts crisscrossed his forearms where knives had slipped past, while bruising had begun to blossom beneath his uniform after repeated blows from rifle stocks and improvised clubs in the close confines of the bunker.

Nothing was immediately life-threatening.

Taken together, however, every injury served as a reminder of just how close the fighting had become.

Across the defensive perimeter, the medics worked tirelessly among the wounded.

Wolfe's eyes travelled slowly across the Marines who had followed him into the bunker only hours earlier. As far as the Dreadnought was concerned, Captain Sean and his platoon had simply disappeared.

He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself a single deep breath. The exhaustion threatened to pull him under, but he refused to surrender to it. Not while his Marines could still see him. Slowly, and despite the medic's obvious disapproval, Sean planted one hand against the wall and pushed himself upright. Pain shot through his wounded leg immediately, followed by a sharp reminder from the stab wound along his side and the weapon hit to his shoulder. He gritted his teeth until the dizziness passed.

"You shouldn't be walking yet, sir," the medic protested.

Sean adjusted the rifle slung over his shoulder before offering a tired smile. "I know." It was all he said. One slow step became another as he made his way through the improvised aid station that had once been a defensive firing line. He stopped beside each Marine, speaking quietly, offering a reassuring word here, a hand on a shoulder there, checking on those too exhausted to speak. There were no speeches.

No grand declarations.

Only the steady presence of a commanding officer determined that none of his people would feel abandoned, not while he still drew breath. When he finally reached the end of the corridor, Sean paused and looked back. The battered remnants of his platoon rested beneath flickering emergency lights, surrounded by spent power cells, discarded medical wrappers and the scars of one of the fiercest close-quarters engagements they had ever endured.

Somewhere beyond the collapsed entrance, the Dreadnought continued her mission in orbit.

Somewhere above tonnes of rock and steel, fellow Marines and Starfleet officers would eventually begin asking where Captain Sean's platoon had gone.

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