Chapter 5 A Hard and Dirty Fight
A Hard and Dirty Fight
Sheba woke to a light wind kicking in under the bed.
The gray-green tarpaulin walls surrounding her also stirred, lifting and flapping.
The gust swept in the scents of damp earth, antiseptic, and wood smoke from the burners outside.
Pale light filtered through patched seams overhead, the sun still on its rise, the sky washed in soft pinks and mineral blues.
Sheba remained motionless beneath the covers, absorbing the cadence of the clinic hospital as it transitioned into its morning rhythm.
One month on Tansinia Minor, and she was still learning its sounds and ambiance.
Its unique symphony began to coalesce. Ranging from the rhythmic crunch of boots on the perimeter gravel to the melodic exchange of greetings and the distant, mechanical drone of a generator cycling up.
Her previous experience as a combat medic and nurse meant she was used to the rudimentary camp-like atmosphere of a field hospital.
Still, she missed some of her luxuries back home like cocktails, hot showers, and air conditioning. Nonetheless, she compensated for it with a French press percolator, a mattress topper for her air mattress, noise-canceling headphones at night, and her favorite books and movies on her comm tab.
She rose, brushing her teeth at the small steel basin bolted to a crate next to the rudimentary shower.
She splashed her face with water drawn from the filtration tanks and braided her hair into a long ponytail.
Her practical trouser uniform hung from a hook, clean and pressed, and she pulled it on, then grabbed her bag and stepped out of her tent.
Sheba navigated the primary corridor of the demountable complex.
The facility sprawled from the central administration hub in a tactical grid.
To her left, the surgical bays were anchored by reinforced polymer ribs.
Stacked triage hover beds sat stashed under heavy canvas awnings. The stacks were secured with industrial cables against the violent gale-force winds that often battered the eastern perimeter.
She side-stepped into the mess hall, waving to the staff on duty in the kitchens beyond prepping lunch service.
With a plate of thick, buttered toast and a mug of steaming brew in hand, she retreated to the admin block’s shared office to organize her day.
She perched at her scarred metal bureau, reviewing the caseload and notes left by the Head Night Nurse, Eliza Mann.
She had barely finished her final bite when a group of junior nurses crowded into the doorway, their eyes lighting at the sight of her.
‘Nurse Munene, let’s roll,’ one of them, short, dark-haired, and sweet, who went by the name Rehema, called out. ‘The shift starts in two minutes.’
‘Can’t a woman drink in peace?’ Sheba grumbled as they hauled her from her desk as she downed her last mouthful of kahawa.
When they got to the principal ward, she shed her morning lethargy.
She took to the center of the floor, where more of her new colleagues assembled: a young attendant, Kaelin, and the junior medic-in-training, a local Tansinian, Matteo.
‘Quick huddle,’ she announced as the team gathered in a tight circle.
‘Listen up, crew,’ Sheba began, her voice commanding and cutting through the background chirrup of the monitors.
‘We’ve a busy rotation today. I want Miller on surgical prep, and Jax handling the supply inventory for the east wing.
If those winds increase, I want everything lashed twice.
Rehema, you’ve got Wards 5 and 6, Terry, 3 and 4, and I’ll take the rest. Matteo, you’re filling in for Dr. Imani until her shift is up in three hours.
Check your IV flows, monitor the floor, maintain your focus, and for the love of the gods, keep your heads up. ’
She distributed the digital assignment pads with the efficiency of a general prepping for a siege.
The huddle broke, and her team scattered to their posts while she set off on her rounds.
Villagers and miners arrived hourly from the outlying plains and forest settlements.
Their complaints ranged from fractures sustained in falls to burns from volatile moss resin, and even miners worried about lung damage from quarry pits.
They presented alongside women readying to give birth, and aged members of the community getting their medication scripts filled.
Her Director of Nursing position was more hands-on here in Lattaya than in her previous roles, as she filled in for any short-staffing gaps.
Sheba supported Linh, Imani, and Toma in surgeries and assisted on minor clinic visits.
Between cases, she managed the younger nurses, guided them in their work, answered questions, and offered advice on balancing their workloads.
She found joy in her role, for the rewards out here were more real.
The gratitude of the locals was authentic, far removed from the hard, jaded edges of her patients in Eden II and New Malindi, or the battlefields of Alloria.
The Lattayans’ love of life was infectious, and they found every reason to laugh and joke.
They also had a penchant for sharing their food, their harvest, and appreciation, draping the clinic’s doctors and nurses in flower garlands.
After morning rounds, Sheba ducked into the comms tent and pulled the flap closed behind her, muting the sounds of busy activity.
She activated and dialed a holo comm link, waiting as the signal pushed past meteoroid debris, asteroids, and comets.
Her call was picked up, and Ki’Remi Sable’s image resolved, glimmering onscreen.
He stood in the ready room of his mercy ship.
His dark honey skin reflected the cool light of the instrument panels, his silver eyes warm, and his mouth full and expressive, curving when he caught sight of her.
‘Nurse Munene,’ he rasped. ‘Looking good, mama. Tansinia Minor suits you.’
She smiled, hiding a pang, for Ki’Remi had once been, for a short time, her gentle, caring, passionate lover.
Their connection fizzled out into a friendship over time, but she still had a soft spot for him and hella lot of respect.
‘I don’t know what to believe when all you Riders are such smooth talkers. How are you, and how is the Gamma Algenib sector treating you?’
He grimaced.
‘How bad is it?’
‘It’s wild,’ he replied, leaning one hip against a console.
‘A mining collapse on Aqqari tore through three subterranean levels, causing intense destruction. We’ve got twelve dead, and my team is dealing with crush traumas, inhalation damage, and burns from a reactive ore.
We’re stabilizing, but we’re freakin’ stretched.
Enough about us, tell me more about your collision. ’
She did, sharing how it happened and how she got saved.
‘You say you spotted an anomaly mid-air that led to the crash?’
‘I’ve no other explanation. One moment, I was on descent with no issues whatsoever. Next, a glowing silhouette appeared before the flyer. Shortly after the vessel was hit with some energy, and I got hurled off course, engines down, and falling from the sky.’
Ki’Remi’s brow furrowed. ‘Sounds troubling. Let me know if you need any help from us.’
‘Sante, but I think I’m OK for now.’
A second figure stepped into frame.
‘Issa, so good to see you.’
Dr. Issa Sable, Ki’Remi’s wife, was one of the most beautiful women Sheba had ever met.
Her skin carried a soft, silvery sheen, her features luminous, her eyes reflecting a spectrum layered beyond any human optic implant could replicate.
She was Sacran, and a demi-goddess who wore her divinity with humility rather than on display.
She placed a hand on Ki’Remi’s waist, resting her head on his shoulder.
Hi, lovely,’ Issa smiled, for she was au fait with the pair’s past and now even friends with Sheba. ‘I caught snippets about Tansinia and your team’s ongoing findings. Could you share your data with us? Anything we can use to help patients heal faster?’
Sheba nodded. ‘I’m still new here, but from what I’ve seen and heard so far from Reyes and the researchers, the various environments are extraordinary. The respiratory recalibration alone could change post-collapse protocols across Pegasi.’
Sheba leaned closer to the console.
‘I’m seeing it in real time. Just this morning, the lung elasticity in one of my cases appeared to have improved overnight without pharmacological support. Their bodies somehow reroute energy and blood flow into repair. If we can find out how they switch it on, we’d be onto a great breakthrough.’
Ki’Remi’s gaze narrowed. ‘If we could replicate even a fraction of their healing factors onboard my ship, I’d be the happiest meta alive.’
‘Replicating this would need Mirage’s input and yours for a considerable time,’ Sheba said. ‘You’d also have to test across all markers, as environment and stability seem to matter. As do CO? levels, oxygen saturation, and humidity. This planet is a miracle no chamber or machine can fake.’
Issa nodded, silver eyes thoughtful.
‘Sacran texts speak of restorative thresholds tied to land memory. Places where physiology remembers how to heal, aided by the power of ancient gods.’
‘Ain’t no deities here,’ Sheba murmured, until an unbidden vision of the man from the night before pulsed into her mind.
She almost cursed under her breath when Ki’Remi interjected.
‘Well, I’ve got a goddess by my side,’ he said, glancing at his wife. ‘One who heals with her hands while I triage broken limbs.’
Issa smiled at him, her eyes brimming with adoration. ‘What does it matter if we’re both keeping them alive?’
‘Indeed,’ Ki’Remi growled, besotted with his woman.
Sheba studied them for a moment, struck by their symmetry and easy intimacy; the Rider forged for war and rescue, the healer shaped by ancient power.
Together, carrying out their calling with grace.
For a second, she ached for what they shared: a deep, devoted partnership with common values.
One day, maybe.
‘Send me your updated injury logs,’ Sheba said. ‘I’ll cross-reference them with our data. If our research team can find out what is causing these shortened recovery windows even marginally on a grand scale, we’ll share it.’