by HR Ringer
“I’d really love to stay, torture you some more, but I’m out of time, and so are you.” Clipping the M-3 to a hard point on her upper thigh, she parted her lips slightly and used the tip of her tongue to languidly lick her upper lip as she grinned at him. “Truth be told, you don’t deserve a mercy shot, but I’m not leaving any witnesses, and I promise you, you will see more of your kind in n’Tuj raugh!”. Stepping back to give herself room to swing her arm, she activated her omni-tool with a twitch of her wrist, which responded by instantly fabricating a ceramic blade next to her forearm. As it began cooling from white-hot to golden orange to reddish-blue, she made a fist, causing the blade to pivot forward; as it completed its 180° rotation, Traynor effortlessly shoved the blade up into the pirate’s chest from just below his sternum, then jerked her powerful forearm up and away in order to break the blade off at its pivot point on her wrist.
The grunts of pain with every exhale became a series of blood-curdling screams, the wailing muffled by the folded, bloody cloth still between his teeth; the pirate’s two remaining eyes rolled back in their sockets from the combined pain of the shattered bone in his left thigh and the ceramic blade shoved up into his lower chest. The wailing cries of agony trailed off rapidly as his lungs ceased drawing in the air needed to scream. His head lolled forward as he slowly, agonizingly died from suffocation brought on by the now hardened blade protruding from his abdomen. Removing the ME generator and shackles, she held her breath as she removed the pirate’s boots.
Checking her chrono confirmed her own sense of being out of time; she took a final look around, rechecking that all evidence of her presence (with the exception of the new room decoration) had been eliminated. Cracking the door open, she listened before quickly looking up and down the passage. Hatches at either end were still sealed and locked, though there was still noise coming from the one furthest from their location. Sealing the hatch to the interrogation room behind her, she took a final look around the passage and was horrified to discover evidence on the floor of her dragging Griff and Xiùlán into the storage compartment.
Re-entering the storage compartment, she found several more towels and some kind of unscented cleaner. After hurriedly scrubbing the drag marks from the flooring, she rechecked for evidence of their presence; finding none, she then sealed and locked the hatch. She walked around to check on Xiùlán, prompting Griff to ask, “Traynor. What in hell did you just do? Sounded really muffled, but I thought I heard a gunshot… maybe some kind of howling.”
“Only what needed doing, Buchanan,” she replied as she handed him the pirate’s boots. “Try those on… hopefully they’ll fit well-enough to protect your feet.”
“You killed him, didn’t you? I barely heard the shot. Then that was muffled screaming I heard afterwards. That room must really be sound-proofed.”
“Couldn’t leave ‘im alive,” she answered in a subdued voice. Sam stared at him coldly as she handed him his shield generator and ME generator. “Had to eliminate any witnesses, and he saw Xiùlán and me bring you in ‘ere. If the rest of ‘em come in here, they’ll find our exit route. It’s a complication we don’t need, not now.” She paused for several moments before continuing, “You are not to tell Xiùlán I killed ‘im, understand me? The gunshot was in his left thigh, which I would also appreciate you not sharing with her. The worthless bastard felt the same pain she felt when he shot her. Difference is, she’s keeping her leg and her life.”
“You’re going to have to tell her the whole story at some point, Traynor,” Griff observed. “You cannot bury that inside yourself or it will flat out eat. you. alive.”
“It already does bother me, Griff. I was gonna use my knives to torture the bastard, but…” She paused, looked at the floor for several moments before continuing, “I couldn’t bring myself to open ‘im up, Griff. I put a bullet in his thigh, then finished ‘im with my omniblade.” Her voice was hoarse, ragged sounding. “I’ll tell her what I did, but she has to be well first. I want to… I’ll need to hold her close when I do tell her. I need to make her realize how badly that son-of-a-bitch ripped my heart out when he shot her.” After a quick glance at Xiùlán, she finished with, “She has to know I am not some stone-cold murderer, even if the batarians can't make the same claim.”
The skin on Xiùlán’s injured leg was blotchy in color and cold to the touch, even though she appeared to be running a fever. Inspecting the contents of the containers on the shelves, she discovered first-aid supplies, which she grabbed with great delight. There were a number of needle probes, no doubt to be used for some insidious form of torture; sterile dressings and containers full of water. More medi-gel. Pain killers, surprisingly enough, both liquid and oral. Best of all, there was an inflatable splint. ‘Halleluiah!’
She tossed a water container and pillpac full of oral pain killers to Griff. “Take a couple of those, and drink as much water as you can get down. Make sure you don’t spill any!” Working quickly, Sam shot more pain killer in Xiùlán’s leg, applied the contents of a medi-gel pack to the entry wound, dressed it, then pulled the air-splint from its container.
It wouldn’t keep her leg from bending at the hip, and it wouldn’t allow Xiùlán to stand, but it should be sufficient to keep her thigh and lower leg immobilized. She smoothly wrapped the cloth from Yuán’s sliced under-armor and pants leg back around her thigh and lower leg, then ever so gently pulled the splint up her leg until it was against her crotch. “How do those boots fit, Griff? Can you stand on your own?”
He grunted with the effort, then replied, “Done. Fit’s a bit tight and the odor’s nauseating, but I’ll manage.”
“Good. I need you to police this compartment. Pick up everything on the deck, then check it all again. There’s dust everywhere… redistribute all of it so there are no foot prints, hand prints, butt prints or body prints, especially at the entry and around those shelves. This place has to look undisturbed, or we won’t live long enough to wonder how we screwed up.”
“You got it, Ma’am,” he acknowledged as he got busy.
“Xiùlán… Xiùlán, can you hear me?” Sam whispered in her ear. No response. ‘My Mandarin is rusty as ‘ell, but here goes…’ she thought to herself. “Xiùlán, nǐ néng tīngdào wǒ ma?” [你能聽到我嗎？– can you hear me?] Sam was rewarded with a groan of pain as Yuán attempted to lick her lips, which looked dry and parched. Holding up a container, Sam tipped her head up and whispered, “Zài zhèlǐ, Àiqíng, yǒu yīdiǎn shuǐ.” [在這裡，愛情，有一點水。– Here, Luv, a little water.]
“What the hell language is that, Traynor?” Buchanan wanted to know. “I’ve heard Xiùlán speak it at times, but never with so much concern.”
“That’s because she’s usually cursing,” Traynor answered softly as she managed to get a few sips of water past Xiùlán’s lips. “It’s ‘er native tongue, Griff. Mandarin… Chinese. I really suck at speaking it. She usually teases me… says I’d never be understood in Shanghai… that’s where she was born. Funny thing…,” Traynor’s voice hitched as she thought about their time in training, “…she has always been able to understand me.”
Understanding dawned on Buchanan as he watched Sam tenderly ministering to her injured lover. “We’ll get her out of here, Traynor… we’ll keep her alive and get her to safety.”
Sam ignored Griff as she kept whispering in Xiùlán’s ear. “Hang in there, Xiùlán. Drink a little water. I took care of the shooter. We need to move or we’ll get caught. Sam kissed her cheek and forehead; both were feverish. Traynor returned to her crouch and slowly, carefully inflated the air splint. Other than a groan or two, Xiùlán gave no indication she’d felt the tube inflate. Sam checked the charge on her ME generator… down to 24%. ‘Shit. We’ll need to swap out power cells in all of ‘em all once we’re below.’ Energizing the collar mounted device, Sam again set it to effectively reduce Xiùlán’s mass to 3% of Earth normal... almost light enough to float away if they weren’t careful. “Griff, how’re
you doing?”
“I’ve got it all picked up, Traynor. We’ll sweep our tracks back to the access as we go.”
“Good. Look on the shelf behind me, find the item called ĉelo potenco… grab it. Power cells inside will help us. Two of ‘em are almost flat, but the rest are good. Grab our stuff… I’ll go down first so I can catch her and the packs. You follow me down; I’ll catch your feet, hold you in place so you can re-latch the grille locks.”
Traynor whispered in her inamorata’s ear, “Okay, Xiùlán, time to leave here.” Traynor wrapped her arms and legs in the blanket so they’d stay in place, then gently picked up her lover, bringing her gently to a slightly head down position and moved her to the opening. “Here, hang on to ‘er,” she said to Griff.
“Why’s her head down?”
“Trying to keep her legs higher than her heart,” Traynor said with a shrug. “I’m hoping it’ll hinder the pressure on ‘er leg and slow the bleeding. Just watch her close… might make her puke.”
Traynor swept away the remaining tracks leading to their access hole, then eased her way down. ‘Seems easier goin’ down,’ she thought as her chest slid easily through the opening; she lightly touched down on the deck below.
Looking up, she hissed, “Packs.” Buchanan obliged by carefully dropping all they had down to Sam’s waiting arms. Setting these aside, she looked up and whispered, “Xiùlán. Be careful!”
Buchanan gently eased the unconscious woman down through the opening until Sam had her by her hips; Sam then eased her friend to a horizontal attitude on the deck and increased her mass slightly so she’d stay put. Griff had finished rearranging the dust above to hide their intrusion. Looking down to Traynor, he reduced his own mass, then eased his legs into the opening. Sam caught his feet and held him in place as he finished with the floor before pulling the grille back into place, where he carefully applied the latches to keep it from being removed from above. “It’s done, Traynor.”
Sam eased Griff the rest of the way to the deck. Moving away from the opening, they worked to eliminate the tracks in the dust under the grille to the point where they were standing. Anyone shining a light down from above would see the same dust that had existed since the station’s completion decades ago.
“Okay, where to?” Buchanan asked.
Pulling up the station map on her omni-tool she said, “As far away from this spot as we can go… opposite side and to the right, back the way Xiùlán and I were traveling before this detour.” Shutting her tool down, she helped Griff pick up and distribute several packs to carry before picking up the last three; handing Xiùlán’s night vision visor to him, Traynor set his omni-tool to shine in infrared, then gently picked up the injured woman and said, “Boots still okay?”
Buchanan grunted, saying, “Pretty tight, but better than nothing at all.”
“Okay… just watch your step.” Nodding her head in the direction they needed to move, she finished with, “You take point. Let’s go.”
Sam quickly found that moving while carrying Xiùlán was quite awkward… she had to continuously reposition her burden in order to dodge around and over all the obstructions in their path. Muttering to herself, “Should have found some kind of litter,” she mentally kicked herself for even thinking that. Griff was in no shape to be carrying any more than the packs he had. She had left her intercom on ‘voice–active’ so she could keep in contact with him. Surprisingly, he was making good progress, even being mindful of avoiding as many obstacles as possible. “How you doing, Griff?” she whispered.
“Wouldn’t even be moving without the pain pills, Traynor. How much further?”
Sam looked behind them, then ahead. “About 270 meters or so. Look for any kind of glow indicating a light source.”
Griff continued to lead them closer to the curved inner pressure hull of the compartment. After they’d moved roughly 200 meters, he paused and crouched as he powered down the infrared light. Raising his goggles, he let his eyes adjust for a few seconds, swinging his gaze back and forth in the direction that had caught his attention. He finally spotted the faintest of glows, about 50 or 60 meters away and close to the curved inner hull. “Got it, Traynor. Let’s go.”
Pulling the goggles back down and reenergizing the light in his omni-tool, he moved carefully in the direction of the glow, looking around continuously for any motion or audio sensors. As he came close to the source of the faint light, he set all the packs down and turned to help Traynor with her burden. “How’s she doing, Sam?”
“Still alive. Feverish. I hope I brought enough stuff with me to treat her and keep her comfortable. I don’t think we’ll going to get out of here for a couple of days.”
They both looked around the immediate area. “Not much here except electrical conduits and a few junction boxes,” Griff observed. “I can tap into one of those boxes for power, give us places to recharge our power cells.”
“Do it. Our ME cells are really in need of a recharge,” Sam replied. She placed Xiùlán on the deck and raised her injured leg by blocking under her knee and foot. Sam dampened a piece of cloth and gently wiped Yuan’s face, then placed it on her forehead after whirling the cloth several times in a circle to cool it. She next moistened her lover’s lips, but decided against trying to have her drink any water until later.
Buchanan had tapped into a junction box and was busy plugging cells into sockets for charging. “Let me have all of Xiùlán’s so we can get them all charged.”
Sam removed Xiùlán’s ME generator and pocketed the device after removing the power cell; this she handed to Griff for a recharge, along with her own ME power cell. Kneeling beside Xiùlán, she slowly deflated the splint and loosened it enough to slide it down to her knee. ‘Damn, this looks bad!’, Sam thought.
She retrieved the probes from among their first-aid supplies, along with some disinfectant and wipes. She gently cleaned the skin around the entry wound and meticulously inspected her entire upper leg for any signs of other injuries. Satisfied there were none, she carefully inspected one of the probes and discovered that one of its functions was to retrieve impossibly small data capsules buried in someone’s flesh. ‘Damn!’
She looked at Xiùlán’s face, then bent down and placed her mouth right next to her ear. “This is going to hurt worse’n all bloody ‘ell darling, but I don’t see any other way to get those particles out of your leg,” she whispered.
Xiùlán grimaced slightly at this, then replied in a pained voice, “Kěle. Téngtòng shì fēicháng zāogāo de. Wǒmen zài nǎlǐ?” [渴了。疼痛是非常糟糕的。我們在哪裡？– Thirsty. The pain is very bad. Where are we?]
“My god, Griff, she’s awake!” She whispered the bad news in Xiùlán’s ear, “Still on Cartagena Station. Charging power cells, planning our next move.” Traynor gently lifted Xiùlán’s head and offered her some water. “Easy… not too much. I know your leg hurts like ‘ell, Xiùlán… and it’s about to get worse. Those polonium bits have absolutely got to come out of there. I’ll be as gentle as I possibly can my love, but it has got to be done if I’m going to get you outta this Dìyù bān dì dìfāng [地獄般的地方 – hellish place] alive.”
Xiùlán responded with a grimace. She was a fighter, but nothing she had ever done had prepared her for the absolute agony she’d experienced. She didn’t think anything Sam did from this point on would hurt nearly as much.
Sam pulled on a pair of surgical gloves after thoroughly sanitizing her hands; energizing the first probe, she adjusted its receptor to hone in on the radiation emitted by the shattered round in Xiùlán’s leg.
Griff observed, “Traynor, don’t insert that thing until you’re absolutely certain it’s locked onto a piece of that round. That’s muscle tissue you’ll be digging around in… you need to keep any movement inside her thigh to a bare minimum.”
Sam grunted in acknowledgement as Griff crouched by Yuán’s head, knees on either side of her ears. Reaching over, Buchanan grabbed each of her hands
and held them tightly, grinning at her as he said, “You can squeeze the hell out of my hands, Service Chief… least I can do after you risked your life for me.” Looking at Traynor, he nodded.
Sam bent over Yuán’s face and whispered, “You need to meditate, Xiùlán. There is nothing here to be concerned about, nothing to be worried about. Breathe, my Luv. Simply breathe.” Traynor’s voice was soothing, peaceful… it carried Xiùlán to a place where summer breezes kissed her hair, the sounds of insects and birds hovered at the edges of her consciousness, the waves from a distant ocean crashed onto a rocky shore. Her eyes fluttered closed, hands being held by Buchanan relaxed, the tenseness in her leg gradually gave way to relaxation as Sammy’s softly spoken, repetitive phrases served to relieve Xiùlán’s anxiety, helped deaden her pain. She breathed deeply as she entered a tranquil, semi-conscious state.
“Okay, Luv, here goes…” Sam gently moved the probe around the surface of her thigh until it registered the strongest signal. She squeezed the actuator, sending the device deep into Xiùlán’s muscle.
Xiùlán’s only reaction was an agonized grunt and a tightening of her grip on Buchanan’s hands as the probe entered her thigh and latched onto the radioactive fragment of the batarian’s polonium round. Traynor reversed the probe’s polarity, causing it to follow its entry path as it reversed straight out her leg. “Got it,” Sam murmured. She injected medigel into the wound to seal it against blood lost and dull the pain, then examined the probe. The bullet fragment, for the amount of radiation it was emitting, was minute in size. ‘Probably three, four more of these still in her leg, dammit,’ came the thought.
The corners of Xiùlán’s mouth were turned up ever so slightly. Griff caught Sam’s eye and observed, “Never knew a woman with such a strong grip. I’m really ashamed to admit she’s hurting my hands a bit.”
Traynor smiled. “Don’t be. She has worked all her life on building her muscles. You think the bulges in this thigh are an accident?”