Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 (12 page)

Twelve

“Jump will commence,” R’har said, his fingers a blur over the controls as the ship lurched again. “In three . . . two . . . one . . .”

The cockpit view went from blackness and stars and Olari spinning peacefully below to a white that was too bright to look at. In the next instant it was like the whole ship had been dropped into a fiery hurricane.

A scream tore from Hope’s throat as the ship bucked like a wild thing, spinning out of control. The safety straps dug into her chest to hold her in her seat, her head pressed to the headrest by the force. 

R’har roared, straining against the controls as they hurled toward the ground. The planet’s surface tilted at crazy angles through the cockpit windows as the ship spiraled downwards. Time slowed and in the last instant before they hit the ground Hope stretched her hand toward him.

Then the ship bounced upward again, the metal shrieking in protest as it arced, the cockpit windows filled with Olari’s cerulean sky for an instant before the ship slammed into the planet’s surface hard enough to shatter the cockpit windows. 

The hull crumbled on impact; foliage exploded against the broken glass and torn earth splattered the cockpit interior as the ship tumbled over and over.

Slowed in its roll by gravity and the drag of the landscape, the ship teetered for an instant on its side then slammed down to rest—right side up—on the planet’s surface.

In the sudden silence Hope’s shuddering breath thundered in her ears. Trembling, dizzy and sick from the landing, her arm aching where she’d reached out to R’har only to have the limb slammed down when they hit, Hope blinked rapidly, dazed by the simple fact that she wasn’t dead.

Through the ruined cockpit windows she could faintly make out the alarmed cries of birds.

“You did it,” she whispered.

The windows were shattered, the port side of the cockpit had been crushed, the ship’s controls were dark, and there was no telling what shape the rest of the ship was in—or if the rest of the ship was even still attached to the cockpit.

But they had reached the planet’s surface alive so she was going to mark it down as a victory.

“You did it, R’har. You landed the ship.” The tremulous smile she threw his way collapsed instantly. “Oh my God!”

He was slumped in the pilot’s seat, eyes closed, and the whole left side of his face bloody.

“Hold on!” she cried, her stomach clenching when he showed no sign that he’d heard her. With shaking hands she fumbled at the safety harness. It seemed to take a lifetime to free herself from its entanglement. Her legs were wobbly but she managed the two steps to reach him and caught herself against the pilot’s chair.

“R’har!”

He didn’t react to his name or her touch and under his lids his eyes didn’t move. The bleeding came from an injury to his temple and it looked bad.

She was on an alien world with no knowledge of how or if she could survive here. There were more aliens in orbit above ready to torture her, with the means and will to destroy Earth. But looking at R’har, his slackened jaw and alien forehead bleeding, his glowing eyes shut, Hope knew only one thing mattered right now.

“Don’t be dead,” she begged, pressing her hand to his chest. “Oh, God, please don’t be dead . . .”

Under her palm his heart beat strongly and grateful tears stung her eyes. She reached to release his safety harness, then hesitated. It was likely the harness was all that was holding him upright in the pilot’s chair. R’har was a few inches shy of seven feet and solid muscle—there was no way she was going to be able to carry him or even catch him if he fell forward.

She stroked his cheek. “R’har? Can you hear me? Come on, you need to wake up, okay?”

His head was bleeding freely. Using her hands and eyes she did a quick cursory for other wounds. He wasn’t cut anywhere else that she could see but that didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered internal injuries.

He hadn’t even stirred during her exam. Despite being the child of two doctors, she knew next to nothing about giving medical care to a human, let alone a g’hir. She didn’t know how to use any of the equipment in sickbay.

“R’har? I really . . .” She swallowed hard and brushed his cheek with trembling fingers. “I need you to be okay.”

Think, damn it, think!

“R’har? Can you wake up for me? Please?” She cupped his cheek, warm against her palm. “Please, R’har, wake up. Please wake up . . .”

She knelt beside him, tears wetting her face at the faint but terrifyingly wheeze in his breathing.

“Please, R’har . . .” she whispered. “Please . . .”

His eyelids fluttered a little and his lips drew back in a low, pained groan.

“R’har?”

His eyes opened, unfocused and dazed, to regard her.

“Oh, thank God! I was so afraid—Oh, no, hold on,” she said quickly, lightly tapping his cheek when his lids started to droop. “You need to stay awake, okay?”

“Hope?” His bewildered eyes took in the ruined cockpit around them, and he frowned at the green leaves visible through the cracked windows. “What—?”

“We made it. We’re on Olari.” She gave him a smile, her tears overflowing. “You did it, R’har, you landed the ship.”

“Landed—?” Suddenly his breath drew in sharply and his eyes snapped to awareness. “Are you hurt?” His hand came up to clasp her wrist and his worried glance went over her. “You are hurt!”

She looked down and saw the blood on her hands and nightgown. “No, I’m—”

He fumbled to release his safety harness. “I will carry you to the medical bay.”

“That’s not my blood.” She nodded at his temple. “That’s yours.”

“I am not . . .” He touched his head and looked surprised at the blood on his fingers. “It is nothing.”

But his attempt to stand brought another pained groan and he sank down into the pilot’s seat.

“Yeah,” Hope muttered, helping him ease back against the chair. “I’m not the one who needs carrying to the medical bay right now. But head wounds bleed like crazy so I don’t know how bad it really is. Do you hurt anywhere else? Are you dizzy?”

“Hope—”

“I’m fine,” she said impatiently. “We’re focusing on you right now.”

He looked distressed, uneasy, to put himself before her. “My head hurts,” he allowed finally. “I am dizzy. My body aches, my right side and shoulder especially.”

“I don’t know anything about g’hir medicine so you’ll have to talk me through it. Is there a medical kit in here? Or one in the medical bay I can go grab?”

R’har glanced to the crumbled port side of the cockpit. “There is a medical kit beneath the environmental controls station. It will contain a portable scanner to determine my injuries. I will—”

She pressed her hand on his shoulder to hold him down. It didn’t take much effort either. “Let me get it.”

Picking her way carefully across the cockpit to that station, Hope bent down and felt along the seam of the compartment beneath. The little cubby popped open only partway at her touch, but reaching through the crack, Hope was able—by twisting and pulling—to wiggle the kit out.

She bit the inside of her cheek when she got a good look at it—the kit had been crushed completely on one side. She carried it over to the co-pilot’s seat and it took some doing on her part to pull the lid up.

R’har accurately read her dismay when she got a look inside. “The scanner is damaged?”

“More like pulverized.”

The cylinder was practically flattened. Quickly she rifled through the case but everything in there had been rendered useless. At least there were clean bandages in the kit and she broke the seal on them.

R’har gave a low snarl when she pressed the dressing against his temple.

“Sorry, but I know enough to know we’ve got to put pressure on it. Can you hold this on?”

His fingers replaced hers but with the way he was bleeding the bandages were going to be soaked through in no time.

“That sure isn’t going to cut it,” Hope said. “Is there another portable kit in the medical bay I can go get? Or another portable scanner I can grab?”

He began to shake his head and broke the movement short with a stifled groan. “I do not know the condition of the rest of the ship. It is not safe for you to venture through it alone. I will go. This area of the ship appears secure for now. You will stay here and I will return for you as soon as I am able.”

She scowled. “Oh, for God’s sake, you can’t even stand up! Just tell me where the damn kit is.”

“My Hope,” he growled. “You are not even wearing shoes.”

He was right.  She was still clad in the silky, sexy nightgown. She’d been in such a rush to go after R’har right before the attack she hadn’t even grabbed her underwear.

“I think I have enough brains to watch where I step,” she said dryly.

“It is not a question of your intelligence! In a ship this badly damaged, there is no telling what hazards you may face between here and the medical bay.” His jaw was set. “As your lifemate I will not allow you to go.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “
Allow
me?
I hate to point this out, R’har, but I don’t think you could take on a kitten right now and I’m pretty mobile for someone you’re trying to boss around.”

His face was alarmingly pale but a muscle twitched in his cheek. “Where I come from,” he growled, “females honor their lifemate’s instinct to protect.”

“And where
I
come from we don’t put the one with the serious head injury in charge.” Hope folded her arms. “So you can either tell me where the kit is and I’ll go
or—if you’re really up for a stroll—we can go to sickbay together.”

His glowing green eyes narrowed. “Are all human females this stubborn?”

“Yeah,” she said, meeting him look for look. “Get used to it.”

His huffing laugh was quickly cut short. He winced in pain and blood seeped through his bandage.

“Okay, enough already, let’s get you to the medical bay, ” Hope said, putting her hand under his elbow. “Try standing up, you can lean on me.”

He drew in a deep breath and pushed himself up. Hope hurriedly clasped his wrist to drape his arm over her shoulder as he stood, then slid her arm around his waist to steady him. He took a shuffling half-step, leaning heavily on her, then another.

“Great,” she muttered when the cockpit door didn’t open at her wave. She didn’t know much about g’hir warriors but if R’har was typical of his species there was one thing she could say for sure—they weren’t light. “Sometimes they open, sometimes they won’t. Do these things just
know
how to piss me off?”

R’har’s face was drawn but his growl was patient. “The power outage affects the doors as well, little one.”

“Right,” she said, her glance darting around the cockpit at the dead controls. “Do you know why the power’s out?”

He gave a faint smile. “Certainly not an ill-advised jump into a planetary atmosphere.”

“Funny. I meant do you know a way to get the power back on? Or maybe how I can?”

He gave the ruined control room a meaningful glance. “I would judge this ship a total loss and we have not even left the cockpit. Restoring power will not be a simple repair—if it is even possible.”

Hope wet her lips. “What about the medical bay?”

If the equipment there didn’t function she’d have no way to treat R’har or even know for sure how badly he was hurt.

“The medical bay has extra shielding and a redundant energy system,” he said but his deep growl sounded very tired now. “I am hopeful it is still functional.”

“It will be.” Hope narrowed her gaze at the exit. “We just need to get there.”

“There is a manual release for the door behind that lower panel.” But when he took a step in that direction he swayed on his feet and she hurriedly leaned him against the cockpit wall, using it—and her own weight—to brace him upright.

“Don’t you dare pass out, R’har. All I remember from first aid class is how to apply a tourniquet,” she warned. “Probably not the best choice for a head wound.”

“But it would stop the bleeding.” He managed another faint smile. “And spare you my poor jokes.”