door, Vala had it open and waved her through, grinning.
Jayleia pulled up short. The ship sat, ramp down, hatch open. Inviting.
She’d expected—something, if only the clean team. Yet there the Kawl Fergus sat. Empty, wide open. It added up to one very attractive lure.
Like Damen Sindrivik.
Bellin groaned and she shook off hesitancy. Save the child’s life first. Worry second.
They pounded up the ramp.
Vala shut the door after them.
Jay went straight to the tiny medi-bay and settled her charge on the exam table. His weight triggered instrument readouts she couldn’t understand. Dodging out to the cockpit, she held her breath, hoping Damen had left her handheld in plain sight and had kept his word about loading translation. If he hadn’t, her decision to treat the child aboard the Kawl Fergus rather than running him to the Silver City hospital could cost him his life.
Her breath went out in a rush. The handheld sat tucked into a holder on the piloting panel, still connected to the ship’s systems. Her belt sat in a heap in the nav chair. She grabbed it, secured it around her waist, then picked up the handheld and initiated a rapid check.
“Twelve Gods, Damen, I love you,” Jay muttered as Claughwyth systems messages morphed into Tagrethian. He’d kept his promise.
Time to keep hers.
Linking into the medical systems as she strode from the cockpit into the medi-bay, a more aware part of her brain informed her that a clean team had been aboard the Kawl Fergus . Spots of her blood no longer stained the deck plating.
She frowned and grabbed a dehydration packet. Mighty fast sterilization.
Shaking off doubt, Jayleia hurriedly drank, then returned to Bellin’s side, checked his vitals via the diagnostic bed readouts, and fought back fear. His condition was deteriorating.
Vala, her expression pinched with worry, watched. She petted one of Bellin’s puffy hands as if not conscious of what she did.
Jay spent a moment sampling out blood and placing it into the reader. Once the analyzer beeped “done,” the medi-computer concurred with her. Histamine levels dangerously high, organ damage mounting, and blood oxygen levels declining. The screen before her lit up with a list of recommended treatments based on Bellin’s body mass and condition.
She dove for the cabinets and drawers lining the medi-bay walls. Translation on her handheld didn’t mean she could read the Claughwyth script indentifying which medical supplies lived in which storage spots. She had to look at the individual packets of medicine.
Medical supplies the galaxy over came with pictorial representations of their uses. She’d never pointed out to anyone that the pictures presupposed that every species in the galaxy could see, much less used vision as their primary sensory input.
It didn’t matter. For her purposes, the pictures worked, allowing her to identify vials of medication regardless of the color-coded Claugh text in which the names of the drugs were rendered.
Jay went step-by-step through the prioritized list, putting an oxygen generator on the child first. A series of injected meds went in next, slower than she would have liked as she double- and triple-checked the dosages she’d prepped against the computer’s recommendations for the child’s body weight. Finally, she spread antivenom ointment on the sting site and placed a regeneration unit on it.
By the time she’d finished, Bellin’s color had improved and the swelling in his extremities had visibly lessened. Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked for Vala.
The woman stood in the doorway, the gun Jayleia had taken from Damen in her hand, her own still in its holster.
Jay froze and pressed her lips tight to keep from swearing at her stupidity.
“He looks better,” Vala observed.
Jayleia studied the woman. Granted, Vala had both guns. Jay had reason to read hostility in her stance, but she didn’t comprehend the edge of agitation in Vala’s voice.
Jayleia nodded.
Jayleia pulled up short. The ship sat, ramp down, hatch open. Inviting.
She’d expected—something, if only the clean team. Yet there the Kawl Fergus sat. Empty, wide open. It added up to one very attractive lure.
Like Damen Sindrivik.
Bellin groaned and she shook off hesitancy. Save the child’s life first. Worry second.
They pounded up the ramp.
Vala shut the door after them.
Jay went straight to the tiny medi-bay and settled her charge on the exam table. His weight triggered instrument readouts she couldn’t understand. Dodging out to the cockpit, she held her breath, hoping Damen had left her handheld in plain sight and had kept his word about loading translation. If he hadn’t, her decision to treat the child aboard the Kawl Fergus rather than running him to the Silver City hospital could cost him his life.
Her breath went out in a rush. The handheld sat tucked into a holder on the piloting panel, still connected to the ship’s systems. Her belt sat in a heap in the nav chair. She grabbed it, secured it around her waist, then picked up the handheld and initiated a rapid check.
“Twelve Gods, Damen, I love you,” Jay muttered as Claughwyth systems messages morphed into Tagrethian. He’d kept his promise.
Time to keep hers.
Linking into the medical systems as she strode from the cockpit into the medi-bay, a more aware part of her brain informed her that a clean team had been aboard the Kawl Fergus . Spots of her blood no longer stained the deck plating.
She frowned and grabbed a dehydration packet. Mighty fast sterilization.
Shaking off doubt, Jayleia hurriedly drank, then returned to Bellin’s side, checked his vitals via the diagnostic bed readouts, and fought back fear. His condition was deteriorating.
Vala, her expression pinched with worry, watched. She petted one of Bellin’s puffy hands as if not conscious of what she did.
Jay spent a moment sampling out blood and placing it into the reader. Once the analyzer beeped “done,” the medi-computer concurred with her. Histamine levels dangerously high, organ damage mounting, and blood oxygen levels declining. The screen before her lit up with a list of recommended treatments based on Bellin’s body mass and condition.
She dove for the cabinets and drawers lining the medi-bay walls. Translation on her handheld didn’t mean she could read the Claughwyth script indentifying which medical supplies lived in which storage spots. She had to look at the individual packets of medicine.
Medical supplies the galaxy over came with pictorial representations of their uses. She’d never pointed out to anyone that the pictures presupposed that every species in the galaxy could see, much less used vision as their primary sensory input.
It didn’t matter. For her purposes, the pictures worked, allowing her to identify vials of medication regardless of the color-coded Claugh text in which the names of the drugs were rendered.
Jay went step-by-step through the prioritized list, putting an oxygen generator on the child first. A series of injected meds went in next, slower than she would have liked as she double- and triple-checked the dosages she’d prepped against the computer’s recommendations for the child’s body weight. Finally, she spread antivenom ointment on the sting site and placed a regeneration unit on it.
By the time she’d finished, Bellin’s color had improved and the swelling in his extremities had visibly lessened. Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked for Vala.
The woman stood in the doorway, the gun Jayleia had taken from Damen in her hand, her own still in its holster.
Jay froze and pressed her lips tight to keep from swearing at her stupidity.
“He looks better,” Vala observed.
Jayleia studied the woman. Granted, Vala had both guns. Jay had reason to read hostility in her stance, but she didn’t comprehend the edge of agitation in Vala’s voice.
Jayleia nodded.
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