Authors: S. L. Viehl
Tags: #Women Physicians, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Life on Other Planets, #General, #Science Fiction; American, #American, #Adventure, #Speculative Fiction
There were also ten Hsktskt, in various physical conditions, who had taken positions around the medical bay. They held large, activated displacer rifles pointed directly at the security team leader and me.
I stepped forward, but as soon as my foot crossed over the threshold, one of the Hsktskt fired at the deck, making me jump back with a yelp.
“
Stoikkkass avarillna
!” the Hsktskt centuron snarled at me.
I pressed a key on my vest pad. “Reever? You’re needed.”
My husband’s voice answered a moment later. “What is wrong, Cherijo?”
“What does ‘
stoikkkass avarillna
’ mean?”
“Unpalatable fodder that should be disposed of at once.”
That would be us. “Okay.” I blew out a breath. “Here’s our problem. We’ve got ten Hsktskt here who need immediate treatment. They’re holding us off with guns and, judging by your translation, would like us to leave.”
Qonja stepped up behind me. “Healer, we should go-”
“Shut up, resident, I’m not asking for your advice.” To Reever, I said, “What do you think?”
“Repeat the following words to them. ‘
Gggdssskka osssjal varreenikk
.’”
I looked at the centuron. “
Gggdssskka osssjal varreenikk
.”
The centuron stared at me as if I’d gone completely insane. Then he turned to his comrades and made a sinuous gesture with one of his six limbs, snapping the end toward me. “
Varreenikkolla Gggdssskka
.”
The other Hsktskt seemed to relax a little.
I repeated all that to Reever, who said, “Excellent. Now put down whatever you’re holding and walk forward slowly. Hold out your hands so he can see they’re empty.”
“And you’re sure he’d not going to shoot me?”
“You just gave him your rank in the Faction. He can’t shoot you, unless he wants to attempt to do the same to your Designated entire bloodline.”
I put down my medical pack, but before I could enter, Qonja grabbed me and spun me around.
His handsome face had gone powdery blue. “No. I cannot allow this. You will be killed.”
I jerked the blade out of my tunic and held it against the side of his throat. “Forgive me for attacking you and shield me. Out loud. Now.”
He gulped. “I forgive your transgression and shield you, Healer Cherijo.”
The security guards, who would have declared ClanKill or shot me for holding the blade to my one-man fan club’s throat, lowered their weapons.
“Take your damn hands off me.” I waited until his paws fell away before stepping in closer, and rising on my tiptoes. “You and I are going to settle this when we get back to the ship. Understand me?” His chin bobbed, and I removed the blade. “Now back off, or we’ll do it here.”
The Hsktskt, who had seen the entire thing, watched as I dropped the knife and moved into the chamber. “Don’t they have some kind of translation devices on them?” I asked my husband.
“They are prohibited from using them in battle. Hsktskt soldiers are not interested in talking to their enemies.”
“Obviously.” I stopped a few feet away from the centuron, who was watching me without blinking. “Okay, now what?”
“Now he will test your claim. Whatever he does, don’t move, and say nothing.”
The centuron limped forward, revealing a terrible wound on one of his lower appendages that was still oozing blood onto the deck. He raised his displacer weapon and circled my head with the business end, all the time keeping his saucer-size yellow eyes fixed on my expression. I tried to look like I did this every day.
“
Goinnnat ehhhar capcom crikk crikk
.”
“Duncan?”
“The centuron thinks you’re an infant who has been allowed to creep away from inattentive parents. Slap him with your hand, palm down, in the center of his upper torso.”
“What?”
“Slap him, and do it hard. He’s insulted you; he expects you to do it.”
“I hope you’re right.” I reached out and smacked the centuron on the chest, bruising my palm on the octagonally tiled scaly surface under the metallic uniform. The centuron froze. “Um, he’s not moving.”
“He will in a moment. Be patient.”
At last, the big Hsktskt male bent down until his eyes were on a level with mine. His lipless mouth opened, displaying many rows of jagged teeth. “
TssVar ehhhar
.”
“Reever, I think he just said something about TssVar.”
“He’s heard of you. He knows you belong to TssVar’s line.” My husband didn’t sound too happy about that.
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Wait.”
The centuron slowly released a breath, which blasted me in the face. I tried to look nonchalant and kept my gaze locked on his. A heavily taloned hand dropped onto my shoulder, then the centuron allowed his head to fall back, exposing his throat.
I knew what that meant. “He’s submitting. Son of a gun.”
“Call the rest of your people in and get started.”
When I didn’t rip out his throat, the centuron slowly straightened and lowered his weapon to the deck. The other Hsktskt reluctantly did the same.
“Okay, people.” As the team entered the bay, I led the big male over to a treatment table. “Let’s get them prepped to transfer back to the ship.”
Xonea decided to move the Hsktskt back to the
Sunlace
on a separate shuttle, mainly on Reever’s advice.
“We must keep them apart from the League survivors,” Duncan said as he flew my team to the next ship. “I have notified Squilyp, and he has set up a temporary treatment area in one of the cargo holds.”
I checked the position of the other shuttle, which had nearly reached the Jorenian ship. “I thought we were all pals now.”
“The Hsktskt hold no treaty with any warmblooded species. They will not attack your medical staff, but I cannot predict what they will do when they see their enemies being treated as well.”
“You might have mentioned this before, Duncan.”
“Hsktskt almost always commit suicide before allowing themselves to be captured.” He shrugged. “I was not sure you would get any of them back to the ship alive.”
The reptilian soldiers were in excellent shape, compared to the League troopers we were finding. Their ships had been hit much harder than the scout, and two had actually been boarded by Hsktskt infantry teams. More than half of the humanoids needed major surgery, three of whom were critical.
The business of evacuating the League wounded went much faster. The soldiers put down their weapons as soon as they saw my physician’s tunic and the blue faces of my security guards.
“They left us here,” one dusky Vinasta told me as I checked the tourniquet it had lashed on a half-severed limb. “I could not believe it when they abandoned us along with the ship.”
“Wartime conditions,” a Cordoban snarled at him. “Wounded are only a burden on Command. They should have destroyed our ship.”
“Lovely job you guys have.” I grimaced as I replaced the tourniquet with a pressure dressing. “Stay put, we’ll move you on a gurney.” I moved to examine the Cordoban, a major with a minor head injury and several broken ribs. “You’re the ranking officer here?”
Cordobans were fierce-looking beings, with narrow faces that seemed crowded by their slitted eyes and beak-shaped nose/mouth orifices. “I am. Major Brlety, Cordoba Fleet, Commander of the Fifth Wing Regulars.”
“Nice to meet you, Major. Do me a big favor, and don’t upset my patients anymore, okay? They’ve been through enough.” I checked my scanner, then bandaged his head, and slipped a brace around his thin torso. “I’m going to give you something for the pain-”
The major shoved away the syrinpress. “No. No drugs.”
“Your ribs, not mine.”
We found a total of twenty-three League survivors, and were able to convey them back to the
Sunlace
in short order. I accompanied the Vinasta’s gurney to Medical, where Squilyp had every staffer on board working triage and treatment.
“Where do you want me?”
“Down on eighteen, with our other guests.” He handed me a chart. “You have the most experience dealing with their injuries.”
Major Brlety appeared, dragging a Jorenian nurse along with him. “I demand to speak to your Captain.”
“I’ll relay your request,” Squilyp told him. “Return to your berth.”
The Cordoban scowled. “I must speak with him immediately.”
“Nurse, hand me your syrinpress.” Squilyp held out a membrane for the instrument, then calibrated it for a massive dose of tranquilizer. “You will return to your berth now, or I will sedate you and drag you there.”
“This is unacceptable.” Briery gestured around him. “We cannot remain on this vessel. Joren has terminated their treaty with the League-to collaborate with the Hsktskt, no doubt.”
Squilyp’s gildrells stiffened. “You will remain until we can adequately treat your troops’ injuries. Whether you do so awake or asleep is up to you.”
The major stomped back to his berth without another word.
“Keep them off level eighteen, Squil. Qonja, too.” I rounded up a couple of nurses and left to deal with the lizards.
Unlike our League guests, who were loud and frequent complainers, the Hsktskt sat waiting silently in the makeshift treatment area Squilyp had prepared for them. I handed out vocollars to the nurses, who went around and gingerly placed them around the wide, scaly necks of our patients.
The one I’d spoken to on the scout ship limped over to me. “I am Centuron RrissVar. You are the Designate of OverLord TssVar’s brood?”
“That’s me.” I indicated a treatment table. “Hop on there and let me have a look at that limb.”
“Why have we not been taken to your medical facility?”
He was Hsktskt. I lied. “Because it’s filled to capacity, and you guys aren’t exactly space-saver sized.”
His black tongue flickered out, tasting the air. Reever once told me that the Hsktskt could tell someone was lying by the change in their odor. Hopefully, the centuron hadn’t sampled many deceitful Terrans before.
At last, he said, “I wish to know your intentions.”
“I intend to stitch up that big hole in your leg.” I folded my arms, trying to look a little tough. “Unless you would like to continue bleeding all over my nice, clean deck?”
“Are we to be held as hostages?”
Reever entered the cargo hold, and joined us. “Centuron. I will answer your questions.”
“HalaVar.” RrissVar’s tail appendage lashed out like a whip, snapping in the air. I’d never seen a Hsktskt look more astonished. “You have command of this vessel?”
“No, I serve as ship’s linguist.” Reever reached out and clasped the Hsktskt’s limb with his hand. “It is good to see you, old friend.”
Old friend
. I winced. Xonea was going to
love
this.
“I thought you dead, many times over.” After that blunt little statement, RrissVar looked at me. “So this is your female. We heard of your joining at the last
KressTak
.” He gave me the once-over. “She has no substance to her. Are you certain she can breed?”
“I can breed fine, thanks.” I pointed to the table. “Climb up there.”
Reever stayed with me, distracting RrissVar as I worked on his leg. The jagged gash had innumerable shrapnel lodged within, which I had to fish out before I could make some minor muscle repairs.
“It is time the Faction considered entering into peace talks with the League,” Reever said.
RrissVar grunted as I pulled a rather large chunk of alloy from his flesh. “Doubtful. Not enough have died yet to suit the Hanar.”