Clinical a Short Story set in Blood of Sol
The inhaler wheezed like a dying horse as Ginzsby entered the crowded emergency ward. Freaks, creeps mutants and scum were lined up; waiting to be triaged or bleeding out. The riot had ended with the BG Company agreeing to treat all members of the block ward for free. Berkley Genomics was the biggest heath and genetics corporation in the solar system. They appeared as white knights but underneath, they were sharks taking what they could.
Jeffersons plague was nothing more than a predicted reaction from humans from earth, to the permanent settlement on New Mars. A debilitating disease that wasted the infected and eventually killed them.
The BG Company announced a cure about five days ago, already out of supplies, time and patience the blockers (dwellers of the blocks) had decided to take the cure, that’s where we came in; the Red Dragons. We held positions between the riot and the clinics on levels 310 to 298, a big territory held by a score more gangs. Armed with mono swords, heavy SMGs and occasional RPG we were more than a match for most gangs. Secure in our positions we went around the “job” of extorting, terrorising and running the show until they came and turned most of us into charcoal. Hailing from old Earth, hired goons with hired haircuts; speaking a variety of arcane and forgotten languages like Swedish, German and French none of them speaking Martian street chat.
Armed with lethal weapons like plasma flame throwers, micro missiles, robot wolves and drones. They cut a swath through us all the way to that clinic warehouse. Then those creeps began launching missiles and grenades as if they were children with fireworks for the first 4th of July. The promptly destroyed the supply of Jefferson’s cure, burning the warehouses to the ground.
Like ghosts those black clad mercenaries methodically moved through our turf. Fighting was fierce, we won some they won more; and in the end they got what they came for. That’s why I’m here in the hospital, with my finger in this guy’s belly wound. “Now Hanz, tell me what the fuck you were doing”
By Morgan, more to come