Protector of the Realm (44 page)

“Remove the splinter when I tell you to,” he instructed. “And move your hands quickly out of the way.”

“Understood, sir.” Hammad closed her eyes for a moment and seemed to brace herself. “Ready.”

“Good.” Lieutenant Ng’Ar moved close to the ensign, placing the deep-tissue fuser’s nozzle only millimeters above the torn skin. “Pull.”

Ensign Hammad pressed a button on the device to engage the forceps’s claw and quickly backed out of the way, holding the offending piece of wood.

Lieutenant Ng’Ar moved the fuser in small circles inside the wound. “This should take care of the rift in the artery,” he surmised. “There’s nothing else we can do. How’s her blood pressure?”

Kellen studied the portable monitor that sat on a chair next to the table. “Eighty over seventy.” She had to steady herself when the
Liberty
’s propulsion system began to roar and whine. When the ship lurched to the left, the inertial dampeners couldn’t keep up with its rapid movements. Kellen grabbed the table, which was bolted to the floor. Holding on to the unconscious woman, she stared with dry, burning eyes at the lieutenant. “Be careful with the fuser! We’re banking again!”

Lieutenant Ng’Ar stretched his free arm around the commodore’s body and curled his fingers around the railing that surrounded the edge on the opposite side of the table. The
Liberty
turned violently, almost stalling, before it finally straightened up.

“Damage report
.
” Owena’s voice echoed through the ship-wide comm system.

“How is the commodore?” Ensign Hammad was struggling to rise from the floor.

“We managed to keep her from flying off the table. Blood pressure again, Ms. O’Dal?” Lieutenant Ng’Ar asked before he turned to his subordinate. “You all right, Ensign?”

Hammad nodded and began to wrap a thermo blanket around the commodore.

“Still eighty-five over seventy.”

“Keep an eye on it. It should rise. The commodore has lost a lot of blood, but we can replace some of it with synthetic plasma. We stored some at the bottom of the cool-shelves in the galley, Ensign.”

Hammad rushed toward the kitchen and returned with several containers. On top of each container was a device meant to attach to the patient. He gave one to Kellen. “Anywhere you can find a vein, ma’am. Just press the blue tag against the skin and it will do the rest. I also brought saline and glucose.”

Kellen’s fingers trembled as she searched Rae’s uninjured hand for a vein, finding them thin, like silk filaments, and almost invisible due to blood loss. Hoping she was doing the procedure correctly, she pressed the blue tag onto the back of Rae’s hand, and to her relief the locking mechanism made a sucking noise and attached to the skin. The readings on top of the container showed infusion was underway.

Hammad found a vein on the commodore’s left foot and attached the blue tag. She smiled toward Kellen. “Two units of synthetic plasma going in.” As Hammad looked over at Lieutenant Ng’Ar, her smile faded. “How is she doing, sir?”

“Step up here and scan the wound. The scanner imbedded in the fuser says it’s doing its job, but I want to make sure. Blood pressure, Ms. O’Dal?”

“Ninety-five over eighty and climbing.” Kellen took a medical scanner and moved it over the wound. She turned it toward Hammad so the other woman could interpret what was on the display.

“The rift is closing, sir.”

“Excellent.”

Kellen and Ensign Hammad cleaned the wounds and healed as much as they could with regular derma fusers. When only the fractured hand remained, the two women looked to Lieutenant Ng’Ar, who was inserting the deep-tissue fuser into its casing.

“The bones will have to be reset.” Kellen gestured toward the battered hand. “We can’t just knit them together the way they are now.”

“You’re right,” Lieutenant Ng’Ar said.

“I’m not qualified to do that, sir,” Ensign Hammad cautioned. “I’ve seen it done, but…”

“That makes you the most qualified in this room, Ensign. We can’t risk waiting until we reach
Gamma VI
.” The lieutenant’s cherubic face looked grim. “Do your best. Set the bones and knit them together. It will ease the commodore’s pain if the bones are aligned. The way they sit now, the jagged ends are likely to hurt the tissue around them, as well as rub against each other.”

His round face softened. “Just do it, Ensign. Dr. Meyer can always perform surgery to correct minor misalignments once we get back.”

Kellen watched as Ensign Hammad took Rae’s bruised hand and carefully manipulated the broken bones by pulling the fingers one by one, blessing the fact Rae was unconscious and oblivious to the pain. Hammad ran the bone-knitter across the fractures, and then Kellen helped wrap the hand in a cooling orthosis to secure it and keep the swelling down.

“I’ll arrange for some belts to strap the commodore to the table. We need to keep her very still when we go to tachyon-mass drive.” Lieutenant Ng’Ar walked over to the door. “Keep an eye on the oxygen saturation and blood pressure. I’ll be quick.”

As she looked at Rae’s white face, Kellen felt her chest constrict. Knowing this was a high-risk mission was one thing; standing here watching Rae in this state was something entirely different. Because she always took pride in her self-control, Kellen was painfully aware of how fear flooded her system.

Leaning over her wife, she placed a soft kiss on her cold, sweaty forehead. “Please, Rae, don’t give up. We have what we came for and are on our way home.” She tucked the thermo blanket closer around her beloved to keep her from falling further into shock. Her voice was a husky whisper. “I can’t lose you. Do you hear? I can’t.”

Rae gave no sign that she heard her. Lying motionless, she seemed distant and untouchable, as if she would never wake up.

Owena’s voice, grave and clipped, came through the comm system. “All hands prepare for tachyon-mass drive. Space corridor secured. Engaging drive in two minutes.”

Lieutenant Ng’Ar returned with three long leather-mix belts. Wrapping them around the commodore and the table, he tightened them so her limp body couldn’t move.

As she looked around her, Kellen saw nothing she could use to attach herself to the table. Ensign Hammad took a seat next to Ng’Ar, just inside the door, and was about to follow his example and put on the belt hanging from the bulkhead, when she stopped halfway. Removing her weapon harness, she tossed it to Kellen. “Here, ma’am. Use that.”

“Thank you.” Kellen fastened the weapon harness to the railing around the edge of the table. Wrapping it around her waist and tightening the clasp, she leaned over Rae’s unconscious body, covering it with her own while she waited for the drive to engage.

The hum accelerated to a loud whining sound, and then the
Liberty
speared through space. The weapon harness dug into Kellen’s waist as her feet left the floor. Her sweaty palms slipped on the railing; she was sliding down Rae’s body. Clutching at the edge of the table, Kellen dug her nails into it, desperate to stay with the motionless woman beneath her.

The
Liberty
reached full tachyon-mass drive. Reverberating around them like a caged animal about to leap toward freedom, the starship plunged through space on a preset trajectory. Kellen felt nauseous. Bile rose in her throat as the vessel’s tremors became faint and barely noticeable.

Ensign Hammad unclasped her belt and walked over to the table. “Here, let me help you, ma’am.” With gentle hands she helped Kellen move off the table and unfasten the gun belt. “Are you all right, Ms. O’Dal?”

“I’m fine.” Kellen glanced at the monitor next to the table. “Her blood pressure is stable.”

“You’re bleeding, ma’am.” Lieutenant Ng’Ar came up to them. “Let me bandage it.”

“Of course.” Numb, Kellen allowed the others to guide her to a chair beside the table. The lieutenant quickly cleaned a stinging wound on her forehead. She didn’t care about the minor pain. Her eyes were fastened on the face of the woman lying very quietly next to her.

“Wake up, Rae,” she mouthed as she felt a single tear dislodge from her eyelashes. “Please, wake up.”

*

Admiral Jacelon regarded Commander Todd with a cold sensation as invisible shivers began at his spine and reverberated throughout his body. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, sir. Our spy vessels have transmitted disturbing data collected from SC probes in the Gantharat System.”

“What the hell’s going on, then?” Suddenly feeling every one of his years, Ewan wanted to sit down but remained on his feet, squaring his jaw. He knew that the spy vessels, a highly controversial asset, monitored the neighboring systems and gathered intelligence from miniscule probes hidden among space debris and in asteroid fields. Transmitting on rotating subspace channels, they were virtually impossible to detect or intercept.

“Two days ago, an Onotharian covert team attacked our away team, sir. They moved in with cloaked shuttles. We’ve never seen those before.”

“And where is our team now?”

“We have no data regarding their exact status, but I can tell you that the
Liberty
and
Freedom
are on a flight path back to SC space. That’s the good news, sir.” Todd looked ill at ease.

“Yes?” Ewan prodded.

“The Onotharians are gaining on them. Using a propulsion system similar to the tachyon-mass drive, they’re hot on their trails, sir. The
Liberty
’s
flight pattern suggests it is damaged, and the
Freedom
is right next to her. Captain de Vies wouldn’t abandon the commodore’s vessel.”

Ewan ripped the protective cover off a cigar. “I know. So the Onotharians are gaining on them? When will they reach them?”

“If they maintain course and speed…” Todd checked his computer. “In less than forty-eight hours, Admiral.”

“Damn,” Ewan whispered. “And we don’t know their tactical status?”

“No, sir.”

He stood motionless for a moment and rapidly examined and discarded solutions one by one. Walking over to the porthole in the conference room, he regarded the ships moored at port 1. His eye focused suddenly, and he rubbed his forehead, going over the details one more time.
Is it possible?
Ewan turned toward Todd and raised an eyebrow. “This is a long shot, but I have a solution. It’s slightly unorthodox, and my daughter would have my head for bending the rules…but in love and war…”

Todd looked curious. “Yes, sir. Just let me know and I’ll be right on it.”

“Even if this plan jeopardizes your career? Some people in the Council might not look favorably on it.” Ewan wanted to make certain Jeremiah understood the consequences.

Todd didn’t hesitate. “For the commodore? Even then.”

*

“My honor is at stake here!”

Dahlia regarded the ambassador, unimpressed by his tendency toward dramatic exclamations. “Very possibly, but lives are also at stake, and I’m appalled by your lack of concern.”

The tall man paced back and forth on the opposite side of the conference table. Dressed in black, he seemed more agitated than during earlier sessions.

Dahlia did not take her eyes off him. He had declined to have his aide de camp present, and she wondered if he now regretted his decision.
If he knew that one of the lives at stake is my daughter’s, he’d be thrilled.
Dahlia forced back the dread, the disgusting feeling of something wobbly in her stomach, that had been present since Ewan had informed her of the current situation. Part of her wanted to send some impossible telepathic message to Rae, to implore her to come back safely.
How ridiculous. Even if there were such a thing as telepathy, it wouldn’t exist between us. We can’t communicate when we’re in the same room, let alone across light-years.
She didn’t know if it was something in her eyes that triggered the ambassador’s explosion, but she was in no mood to humor him.
I may lose my daughter because of you, you bastard. If that happens…nothing can save you then.

“I have the Onotharian law on my side,” M’Ekar spat. “I have the unwavering trust of my president, and no matter how many sad stories you try to sell me--”

“This tirade of yours isn’t very constructive.” Dahlia silenced his ranting with a gesture of her hand. “Let’s focus on our mutual goal--a way of getting you out of SC space in one piece and possibly continuing the talks between our worlds.”

The man looked at her, apparently bewildered. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You have several options, Ambassador. The most preferable for both parties is that you relinquish any demands you have of guardianship of Armeo. Only then will you be escorted to our borders and returned to your own people.”

Slamming his fist against the conference table, M’Ekar gave an impatient roar. “Damn, woman, you don’t understand. What you suggest is out of the question!”

The guards moved swiftly, jerking the ambassador back from the table. “Not so close, Ambassador,” the senior security officer reminded the dignitary.

“What don’t I understand? You’ve been tiptoeing around the issue, stubbornly refusing to negotiate despite whatever opening I’ve presented you.” Dahlia leaned back in the chair and watched the man thoughtfully. She couldn’t put her finger on something. M’Ekar behaved more erratically than a seasoned diplomat should. Tilting her head, Dahlia laced her fingers together, as she asked her next question. “You never did explain why you waited so long to move on Armeo. Nor did you account for the so-called accident that killed his mother.”