Mason had had his chance, many in fact, to fill his pockets with all sorts of goodies; morphine from med bags, critical mechanical pieces useful to those making their own, black market items, and he passed on looting the dead of their belongings. His grandfather would be rolling over in his grave... well, fuming in the void of space they jettisoned the dead out to. And that's when he saw it, a man, near ground zero - the heart of the blaze. He was hurt, bad, but on initial inspection he might make it.

Mason scanned the room, saw a yuppie with a sprained ankle or something of that nature on a med cart and he raced over. "Sorry, higher priority patient!" And he shoved the man off to shouts of 'do you know who I am!' but he ignored them. He had the man up on the cart and was flying to the med center as quick as he could.

The man was dying. He was gasping, pawing the air. Mason assumed he was reaching out for some loved one or making his peace with God, but then he heard him say it - clear as day - sabotage.

"INCOMING!" he shouted crashing through the emergency entrance doors. "I need 30 cc's of Medstatin and a crash cart ready, this man could go into cardiac failure at any minute! STAT!" Techs around him, used to hearing orders from people making them scattered to get the items. He looked around, saw Alyssa, and shouted, "YOU! ALYSSA! Here, now! He's got a piece of shrapnel about to penetrate his lung and with all the trauma he's endured already, his heart won't be able to handle respiratory issues. You're trained in surgery, can you remove it?!"

The man began to mumble as she came closer. "Project Exodus, don't let them begin Project Exodus!" And he flat lined.

"Where's my crash cart?!!" Henry screamed. By the time one arrived, it was too late. The tech who brought it caught a punch to the face and a scream from Mason who then just stormed out of the Med Bay.

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