19. Gragash

19

GRAGASH

T his awakening was less pleasant than the last. Alarms blared, smoke filled the air, and everything hurt. If this is the afterlife, the gods can keep it, I thought.

Forcing my eyes open, I saw Abigail standing ahead of me. Her presence changed my mind—afterlife, torture pit, whatever this was, it was the best place in the galaxy because she was there.

My eyes fluttered shut again, and then nothing.

"—can't you fucking take your own weight?" I recognized the voice, but couldn't place it. Raising my head was too hard, even opening my eyes was a struggle.

"Give him a break," another voice shouted over the sound of blaster fire. Abigail! I relaxed—if she was here, everything was well. "He had a Drall roll over him."

"Yeah, sure, my brother will use anything as an excuse."

What is Jarchess doing here? I sank back into the darkness before I had an answer.

Cold metal under my back pulled me back out of the darkness. The familiar sounds of looting followed, my sister's grumbling along with it. Isn't she a captive? I tried to think straight, but it hurt too much. My head felt like it was about to explode, my leg like someone was taking a hammer to it, every part of me was sore or broken.

"They call this a medbay?" Jarchess's complaint came along with the sound of shelves being emptied onto the floor. Glass broke, metal clattered away, and Jarchess kept searching. I listened, finding it strangely soothing. Or perhaps that was the warm hand gripping mine. Abigail, I remembered, and smiled.

"Ah, I knew they had to have the good shit somewhere," my sister said triumphantly. "Now let's get him?—"

She said more, but I heard none of it. Something ice-cold struck my injured leg, followed by a wonderful, carefree numbness.