Page 19 of Einar (The Brigands of Ruk #2)
Chapter Nineteen
EINAR
Urgency fills me as I sprint back to the shuttle, my heavy footfalls nearly shaking the ship around me with the impact they make upon the filth ridden floors as I make my way down the ramp and into the lower cargo bay.
Suddenly , Bikar’s voice booms across the speakers and icy dread fills me.
“ Get your frackin’ hind ends back on the ship, NOW ! If we do not leave in the next tic, we will not get to leave! Slavic , I know not what has your attention on that deck but wrap it up.”
I am not known for my speed, considering my larger size, but I force myself to move faster as I race across the cargo bay to the waiting door of my shuttle. The alarm in Bikar’s voice is very real … which means something we cannot fight or win against is incoming. Glancing down at the precious bundle in my arms, I am alarmed to see that she’s barely clinging to life.
“ We are almost there, little one. Please … please do not leave me. Not when I have just found you!”
My impassioned plea falls on deaf ears as her head lolls to the side, her dirty, red hair falling across her face haphazardly as a soft huff of air escapes her cracked lips. Terrified I just watched my mate die in my arms, I stop just in front of the shuttle door, ignoring it as it reads my biosignature and soundlessly slides open to check her pulse. She’s small enough that all I need to do is curl her closer to my chest and the tips of my fingers easily find the pulse point in her neck.
Please , please, PLEASE !
There ! I finally find a weak, thready pulse. A tiny ray of relief fills me, and I dart into the shuttle. Quickly , I stomp over to the pilot’s seat and sit down as I gently lower her onto my lap. Running my eyes over her, it does not take me long to assess her. Making a quick decision, I reach for the medical container that I keep stocked. I have never been more grateful that I harassed Slavic to have these installed than I am right now. Having medical supplies, no matter how limited, can be the difference between life and death.
Right now, is a specific example.
If my memory is correct, which it almost always is thanks to the frackin fairies , there is a shot of adrenaline in here which is something I desperately need right now. If I cannot get her airways open, even minutely, she is e going to die before I can get her to the Zenith , and my advanced med- bay. Reaching over, I gently pull my mate closer to me with my left arm as I dig around in the medical container until my fingers find the tube the adrenaline syringe is in. Grabbing it, I jerk it out of the container and flick the protective cap off, exposing the very large, sharp needle. The medic in me knows this will help, but the mate in me says I cannot cause her anymore pain and essentially stabbing her in the thigh, will hurt her .
Significantly .
Steeling myself, I grasp her firmly against the hard expanse of my chest and force myself to stab the needle deep into her thigh while simultaneously pressing down on the end of the syringe to deliver the chemical compound into her weakened body. Nano -tics pass and dread begins to pool in my belly, when suddenly, I watch her take a slightly deeper breath as her body tenses and then relaxes into the effects of the shot I administered. Her breathing settles, if only slightly, into a more normal cadence.
The harsh creases of suffering on her face ease slightly and I know she’s stable, at least for now. Focusing on the controls in front of me, I begin to initiate the launch sequence to return to the Zenith when I am caught off guard by the jerking of the shuttle beneath my feet. I watch as the yoke in front of me moves with a life of its own as I am detached from the Velgriddix ship and turned toward the Zenith at a speed this model of shuttle should not be capable of. Falon must have been tinkering with them in his spare time. It is a good thing I am sitting, or I would have been knocked on my rear.
My eyes glance down and over my mate, terrified that the jarring motion of the shuttle somehow dislodged her from my arms … even though I logically know that is not possible. However , I am not necessarily functioning within the realms of logic at the moment. I am more instinct and emotion, than intelligent being.
Irritation fills me and just as I am about to comm Bikar to ask him what the frack is going on, I catch the chatter between him and Slavic as I am being pulled back to the Zenith in an increasingly erratic manner. My hold on my mate tightens to ensure she isn’t thrown to the floor. My patience with whatever Bikar is doing is about to snap.
“ Bikar , I have my hands full, get me the frack out of here.”
Concern fills me. I have never heard Slavic sound quite like that.
What does he mean he has his hands full?
I do not even realize that I unconsciously tightened my arms around my little Starshine until she emits a soft squeak at being squeezed too tight. Regret fills me. She is damaged enough; I need not make it worse by being an oaf.
“ Neither you nor Einar are making this easy on me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to fly both shuttles and the Zenith at once while we are on the run? I better not hear you complaining later about how rough the ride was.”
“ Bikar , I need to get back to the Zenith as quickly as possible. Where are you taking me?”
“ If you had been paying attention, you would be aware that several large, and I mean humongous swarm ships appeared out of thin air. I had to separate us in order to deflect their fighters. However , I am holding the Zenith back just a little bit trying to get them slightly closer to us before I blow the Velgriddix ship we just relieved of its cargo and crew.”
Less than a nano-tic after Bikar says that I see the cargo bay of the Zenith come into view as the shuttle slows significantly, landing safety in our ship. I must have been traveling even faster than I assumed. It was not that long ago that I left the Velgriddix ship and now I understand why the shuttle has been groaning in loud protest around me.
The instant I feel the shuttle touch down and the risk to my mate is minimal, I ease to my feet, prying my bulk out of the pilot’s chair before hurrying to the exit. It would not do to be too hasty in gaining my feet before landing. I would never forgive myself if I dropped her, especially considering how tenuous her hold on life is right now.
Hesitating only long enough for the door to open, I barrel past a wide eyed Murgul with a snarl.
“ I am taking my Starshine to the med-bay! NO ONE IS TO DISTURB ME !”
Murgul and Falon had arrived shortly before me, but I cannot stop and talk to either of them right now. I do not have a moment to lose. Rushing from the cargo hold, I run to my med-bay as fast as I can. The adrenaline is wearing off and I can hear her breathing becoming labored again as well as the resurgence of the wheezing, death rattle deep in her chest. This is a sure sign her airways are closing right back up. The med-bay door has never been such a welcome sight. I bolt to the door, glad that it has a better biosignature sensor on it than most of the other doors, and it opens even though I am still several steps away.
Rushing deeper into the room, I begin to ease her down onto the nicest of the medi-beds but stop when a long, dirty piece of her hair falls across my arm. The red of her tresses is a stark contrast to the mossy green of my hide, but it also calls attention to the deplorable state we are both in. Her entire body is covered in grime and filth and as I glance down at myself, I realize I am too. Bug guts, viscous fluids and debris from the breeding nest cover me. Cleanliness is key when treating sick and wounded beings, so it would be exceptionally counterproductive to do anything while both of us are covered in whatever germs the Velgriddix possessed on their ship.
Decision made, I take us to the back of the room where an extra-large, state-of-the-art sanitizer is located. There isn’t a door on it, it’s more of an alcove you step into rather than something like a closet or small room. Stepping into the sanitizer fully clothed with my axes still sheathed at my hips, I push the button to start the deep clean cycle. I need both of us completely sterilized and free of any bacteria or pathogens we may have inadvertently picked up. Holding her up high in my arms, I put a bit of space between her body and mine to ensure the cleansing solution the sprayer is expressing covers us fully. The heat from the sprayer creates steam that feels good on my aching muscles but elicits no response from my little mate.
Her wee face does not change expression throughout the entire process though I know the cleansing solution must burn on some of her open wounds. Sadness wells from deep within me. What must she have suffered that this kind of pain does not even register for her, even on a subconscious level. Looking over her body, I can see she is covered in scars in places that a female should not have scars. My eyes land on the vile jewelry that connects her delicate nipples, navel, and cunny together. That piece of shet has to go as soon as possible.
The whoosh of the sanitizer shutting off followed by the warm pulse of the dryer all around me pulls my attention back to the matter at hand. As soon as the dryer shuts off, I exit the alcove and make my way back over to the medi-bed. Easing her down onto the soft surface, I am glad I did not lay her down on it beforehand or else I would have had to sterilize the entire surface before transferring her back to it.
Thankfully , I managed to get everything reorganized before I left to raid the Velgriddix ship. Had my shelving still been in a state of disarray where I could not find what I needed and my mate died as a result, I would have killed both Bikar and Falon . Yanking drawers open, I pull out the supplies to get an intravenous fluid drip going. She is deathly dehydrated, and the condition of her lungs cannot be left unattended much longer. Picking up one of her emaciated arms, I look for a vein to insert the needle in.
Nano -tics pass as my eyes scan her arm, the back of her hand, and then reach for the other arm. Finally , I find a vein that looks like it can handle a needle without blowing out. Grabbing a piece of elastic material, I tie it around her upper arm to get the vein to plump as much as possible before I stick her. Biting my lip in concentration, I ease the smallest needle I have into the crook of her left elbow and sigh in relief when it does not collapse. Applying small pieces of adhesive, I attach the port and hook it up to a bag of healing fluids.
Surely , water and salt will be fine to give to her. Most beings can accept the simple, yet effective mixture. Watching her closely, I do not see any signs of her body rejecting the solution. That small hurdle overcome; I refocus on her increasingly labored breathing. All of the adrenaline has been processed and is no longer effective. There is a cortico-steroid that I have used on myself and my brothers when we encounter materials that damage the lungs. At this point, it is the best I can do. Moving over to the cabinet full of the controlled substances, I grab a vial along with a broad-spectrum sedative. I doubt she will regain consciousness as damaged as she it, but I cannot take any chances.
Guessing at her weight, I draw a dose from each of their respective containers into syringes before hurrying back to her bedside. Lifting her arm up, I insert the needle from the syringe containing the sedative into her fluid bag, and then repeat the same process with the cortico-steroid. Once I am sure the medicines have had time to hit her blood system, I watch her with anxiety ridden eyes, waiting for any sign that she is about to have an adverse reaction to what I just gave her.
The gods must be listening or finally showing some modicum of mercy on me because her breathing evens out and her color improves. No sign of an adverse reaction in sight. In fact, she appears almost comfortable. If one could overlook all the damage done to her tiny body.
Helplessness fills me. I have managed to get her stabilized, but there is so much more that she needs and I just do not know how to get started. My Starshine is human, and I know so very little about her species … but the Zenith possesses something that very few have. We have Bikar . There is not a system he cannot hack or a piece of information he is not able to find.
“ BIKAR !”
Bellowing up at the ceiling is not the best method to use, but I know he is listening; my nosy little brother is always listening.
“ Yes ? You summoned me, Einar ?”
“ I need you to find anything and everything you can on humans as fast as you possibly can. I am basically flying blind here and I cannot lose her. She holds my soul, brother.”
The desperation in my voice must carry through the comm systems because my irreverent sibling does not snap back with some sort of witty reply or a joke.
“ Understood , Einar . I will get you what you need as fast as I can … but you know just as well as I do how dangerous it is to attempt what you are asking me to do. Everyone in the known universe and the Void believe that Commander DaR has put this species under his personal protection and his attention is not something that any of us can afford.”
A soft click follows Bikar’s ominous words and is the only sign that he has cut the comm to the med-bay to focus on the task I have asked of him. Therefore , he does not hear my softly whispered words.
“ Thank you, brother.”