Chapter 11
Nia concentrated on her patient’s wrist, a boy with a strained ligament. The extra two hours made this shift seem incredibly long. Funny, since she’d been used to twelve plus hours on Elara Five. There she’d had the benefit of stimulant injections. Now, she was infused with bone-deep weariness.
Faas and Mayra were determined to be as difficult as possible. Access to supplies and prescriptions, receiving patients according to skill level—everything became a battle. The third medic, Kessy, hadn’t been there the day before, but remained distant. The other two had been talking to her at the beginning of the shift.
Nia finished with the boy, saw him out the door with his mother, then rolled her neck, trying to work out the kinks. Stars above, she needed a three-hour soak in a regeneration bath. Did they have those here?
The door to the bay slid open. A man strode through, his dark blue uniform like Mace’s in style, except he wore two guns, and the most blades strapped to his waist as she’d seen on any warrior. His brown hair swept forward, covering a large portion of his forehead, his nose long and curved.
A strange silence descended in the med bay. Nia glanced over her shoulder. All three medics had frozen in their work, staring at the man who entered, a touch of fear in their eyes.
Nia swung her gaze back to him. Must be important. And she was the only one without a patient.
“This is family medicine,” she said, and someone gasped from behind her. “Are you in the right place?” There had to be another med bay warriors used.
The man’s gaze landed on her and didn’t leave. A smile curved his lips. “I’m in the exact right place.”
Her stomach clenched at his tone. The look in his eyes reminded her of the way Calvin would get sometimes, like he was owed something.
Squaring her shoulders, Nia tipped her head toward the nearest med bed and asked, “What is your medical issue?” If he didn’t have one, then she’d ask him to leave. The medics behind her had resumed their tasks, but there was still an air of caution in the bay—one exuding from the patients as well.
He hopped onto the med bed, then lifted his hand. Blood coated his fingers. “I seem to have cut myself.”
His nonchalant tone made her swallow. Shaking herself, she grabbed the scanner. He was tall, and the way he sat, she could only access the injury by standing between his legs. Unease crept up her spine, and she couldn’t help but compare this to when she’d healed Mace on the way to Orion. Even surrounded by people, this somehow felt more threatening.
Pushing the eerie sensation aside, she ran the scanner over the palm of his hand, eyes narrowing as she read the screen. As a trauma surgeon, she had a mental catalog of injuries, and this one wasn’t some accident. It appeared self-inflicted.
A sense of self-preservation made her forgo the regular round of questions in favor of getting him out of the med bay as quickly as possible. She could feel him staring at her as she ran the sterilizer over his skin, cleaning the blood away. The regenerator hummed next. The cut was fresh and deep.
Three quarters through the heal, a teenager strolled in clutching her wrist, face pale with pain. Her eyes widened when they landed on the warrior.
Why did everyone fear this man in a different way than what she’d seen with Mace?
“Sit right there,” Nia said jerking her head to the closest med bed. “I’ll be with you next.”
Finishing up with his hand, it no longer looked like he’d been injured, the skin smooth. He flexed his fingers, curling them into a fist.
Nia stepped away from the bed, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her stomach squeezed with nausea.
“I’d heard you were good.” He said it like he meant anything other than medical expertise.
Trying not to react to his innuendo, she said, “I have patients to attend to.”
When she jerked her arm out of his grasp, he let her go. Swallowing, she turned to tend the teenager, giving him her back, and tried to concentrate through the erratic pounding of her heart.
He didn’t leave for a long while, and her spine burned from his stare. A collective breath released from everyone in the bay when he finally left.
Nia lifted her head, meeting Kessy’s gaze. The medical assistant’s eyes were wide, but there was relief there too. What had Nia escaped?
She tried to push the whole incident aside, the rest of the day passing in a blur. Only a few minutes remained of her shift when the bay emptied of patients.
But Nia didn’t have time to take a breath.
The lights in the room changed abruptly, flashing red. On a curse, Faas ran to the wall terminal, reading the information scrolling across its surface. He whipped around to Nia. “What kind of surgeon did you say you were?”
“Trauma,” she replied with a hint of pride.
“Shit. We’re getting incoming trauma patients. They’d usually be redirected to the main trauma center, but since you’re here—”
A chute opened in the bulkhead. Three hover beds rolled inside via an automated system with two teenagers and one child in stasis.
Nia’s body tensed. The boy, the youngest of them, was covered in blood. The medics turned wide eyes on her. From what she’d seen so far, they didn’t have enough training to work with these patients. Maybe they’d been sent here because the main trauma center was already overrun.
Silence echoed in the room, disconcerting while paired with the crimson lights, like the four of them were bathed in blood like the patients.
Time.Every triage doctor knew time was the biggest factor when treating trauma patients. And these three might not have any left.
Nia’s training took over. “Kill the alarm.” She strode to the hover beds. Burns covered the girls’ bodies, and their stasis only had minutes left on the clock.
“You,” Nia said, pointing to Faas. “Take this one. Give her a sedative immediately upon exiting stasis. Start with the worst of the burns using a broad-spectrum regenerator set to level—” Nia checked the girl’s stats again, “five point two six. Plug her into fluid and blood transfusions. By the time you get to the first-degree burns, your regenerator should be at about three point three one. Once all the burns are healed, cover all affected areas with two layers of regeneration gauze.”
Nia went over to the other hover bed. “And you,” she said pointing to Mayra. “You do the same with the other girl but start the regenerator at six point one.”
They both stood staring at her, jaws dropped.
“Move,” Nia ordered between clenched teeth. They jerked out of their daze, scampering to the beds. When they took the girls out of stasis, momentary cries of pain and alarm echoed before they were put under.
Nia gestured to Kessy. “You’re going to help me with the boy.”
The panel on the side of the bed read his name was Kilian and he was ten years old. The leg had been newly amputated, but from his stats, the work had been done quickly and without skill.
“It’s a dirty wound,” Kessy said, reading the panel on the other side of the bed.
Nia dropped the stasis field, glad the boy was sedated. Kessy plugged him into the hydration and blood transfusion portals without her having to ask.
“Retrieve a dose of nanos to remove the infection while I re-cut the limb.” Kessy hurried to the dispensary on the bulkhead. “We’re going to need to remove all the shattered bone in the wound,” Nia said when the assistant returned. “Do you have access to prosthetics limbs on this station?”
Kessy injected the nanos. “Yes, but—”
“Good. We’ll need to keep it open flap for the bonding process. A PK576 model or whatever equivalent you have here would be best for his age.”
“Yes, sir,” Kessy replied with wide eyes.
“You can call me Nia.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kessy placed a tray of laser scalpels beside Nia then used the sterilizer at the end of the hover bed. Nia did the same before examining the tray, selecting the appropriate scalpel, testing its charge.
After taking a quick look at the other two medics to make sure they were doing as told, Nia returned her attention to the boy. Kessy removed the remainder of his pants, then held his thigh immobile.
Nia focused, everything else fading into the background as she began her first incision.
A strangled sound made her lift the scalpel.
“She’s CORE!” a new voice shouted, then she went flying through the air.
Mace strode toward Nia’s medical bay, recently notified she’d received trauma patients from the inbound transports. He didn’t doubt her skills as a surgeon, but something made him quicken his pace.
In the last corridor, a man entered the med bay ahead of him. A moment later, someone shouted.
Battle readiness licked up his spine. Mace ran the rest of the way, touching his vambrace to summon a security team. He bounded into the med bay, his first thought to make sure Nia was okay.
She lay on the deck beside a hover bed. His heart lurch in his chest, rage darkening his vision. She wasn’t moving and blood smeared across her temple. A medic crouched beside her as two others restrained a man who looked ready to assault Nia again.
A primal shout ripped from Mace’s throat.
The attacker, a man with light brown hair and a weak chin, went limp in the two medics’ arms. If it wasn’t for his frailty, Mace would have killed him right then.
Clenching his fists, he strode to where Nia lay. “Is she okay?” He squatted beside the medic.
“Yeah,” she replied running a scanner over Nia’s head. “Knocked unconscious. Concussed. Quick heal.”
“How did this happen?” Mace asked, moving Nia’s hair away from her face.
“He pushed her away from the kid, and she hit the next bed over.”
Mace swallowed his growl and swept Nia in his arms to place her on the vacant med bed, taking extra care with her head injury.
Then he turned, every part of him coiled to strike, and faced off with her attacker. He wanted blood, but the man was unarmed, his eyes wild. Bruises covered his face, burns on his hands.
A frantic beeping trilled from the boy’s med bed. The medic rushed to his side, raising the foot of the bed and plugging another portal into his arm.
“Save him. Save my boy,” the man moaned, straining against the medics.
“You incapacitated the only surgeon in the room,” the medic spat. The beeping subsided, and she ran a scanner over the boy’s body. “He’s stable for a moment, but the doctor needs to see to this artery.”
“Can you wake her?” Mace asked, brushing the hair away from Nia’s face, then gripped the edge of the hover bed, his knuckles turning white at the effort it took him to not drag her attacker into the bowels of the station where he’d never be found.
“Yes.” The medic came over and touched a dermal syringe to Nia’s throat.
Her fingers moved first, then she opened her eyes. Seeing Mace hovering above her, she bolted upright, pushing him away. Her hand flew to her head on a groan.
Mace nudged her down. “Take it easy. You’ve had a fall.”
“A fall?” Her voice came out on a croak. “No.” She sat up again and this time he helped her. “Someone pushed me.”
Her outrage calmed his nerves.
Nia’s gaze flew around the room to rest on the man being restrained by the two medics. Her brows pinched together as her hand moved to the side of her head, coming away with residual blood. Mace’s heart beat hard in his chest. She looked to the boy.
“How’s Kilian, Kessy?”
“Went into hypovolemic shock. Tibial artery.”
Nia jumped to her feet and swayed.
“Whoa,” Mace said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You need to rest a minute.”
“No time,” she said once she’d regained her balance, then pushed away from him.
“He’s stable now, but we need to re-amputate and seal off the artery,” Kessy explained.
“Don’t touch him, you CORE filth!” the man screamed. “Your kind put him there. You’ve no right to touch him.”
Mace allowed his rage to take over and took a step toward him. The door to the med bay opened. A team of four enforcers entered, guns aimed at all present.
“Commander?” the lead warrior asked.
Mace grimaced and exhaled a slow breath. He’d forgotten he’d called the team. With regret, he cocked his head to the man being restrained. “Take him to the brig and make sure I’m the first in line. No questions.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man yelled, trying to break free from the warriors. The door slid shut, cutting off his insults.
With one last glance at Nia, Mace strode toward the door, intent on following the team to the brig.
A hand on his wrist stopped him. Nia stood there, eyes round. The heat of her fingers below his vambrace sent tingles flowing across his skin.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. He won’t be bothering you again.”
“No, no. That’s not good.”
Mace frowned. “You want him to bother you?”
“No, of course not.”
Mace shook his head. She made no sense. Maybe it was the effects of the head injury. When she removed her hand, he had the urge to return it to its place.
“Don’t hurt him. He’s been through a trauma,” she continued. “Some people don’t know how to deal with extreme situations.”
“The man assaulted you,” Mace ground between clenched teeth.
“I know, but he was injured too. Once he’s calmed, we can talk—”
“Once he’s—?” Mace needed to stop speaking, and shook his head. “He’ll get nowhere near you again. I’ll see to it.”
Without looking back, he strode through the door.