15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Z’Ree

My insides turn to ice.

Rushing over to Nikolai, I gently lift his head into my arms. He doesn’t move or make a sound but I can see his chest is rising and falling, which is a good sign. Still, bright red blood streams from a nasty gash on his forehead, pooling on the floor around his head.

Fuck! What do I do?!

My thoughts begin to spiral, panic threatening to swallow me whole. I can’t fucking lose it now. Nikolai needs me.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until my vision begins to darken. Berating myself, I inhale, remembering Nikolai’s words. “In for three. Then hold it in for a second. Now, exhale on six.” His words echo through my mind. Desperate, I do my best to follow his instructions, but fail repeatedly.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why am I so useless?! I can’t even breathe properly!

Nikolai groans but doesn’t fully rouse from his state of unconsciousness. The soft groaning sounds calm me slightly and helps me to focus. I breathe. In for three, out on five. It’s not six, but it’s the best I can do at the moment. I’ll practice later.

Fine, I’m not panicking anymore but, what should I do now?

I need to get Nikolai out of here, but he’s too heavy for me to move, which means I have to summon his friends. A daunting task, but if it saves Nikolai’s life, I’ll do it without hesitation. But first, I need to do something about the blood that’s still oozing from his forehead.

I locate the first aid kit and run back to Nikolai. Fingers trembling, I try to open the latch, fumbling so badly that the contents scatter all over the floor. Cursing, I drop down on my knees, searching for something to staunch the bleeding, my eyes darting over the labels. Disinfectant. That’s a start.

I pry open the lid and spray some on the open wound. It probably won’t have much effect as the fresh blood washes it away almost immediately. I need some fucking bandages. Finally, I find a pack of adhesive pressure dressings and slap one over the wound. It immediately turns red but it stops the bleeding nonetheless..

I squeeze Nikolai’s hand, wishing he’d wake up and tell me what to do. Tell me I am safe and that everything will be alright.

He doesn’t wake up. He’s got a head injury and even someone as uneducated as me knows that those can be very, very bad. I need to get help.

I’ll be right back , I promise him silently, my stupid voice still missing.

Reluctantly, I let go of Nikolai’s hand and rush to the door. Though it feels strange to be using the ship’s corridors instead of merely watching through the ventilation grates, I don’t hesitate.

Since I don’t trust the elevators to work correctly at the moment, I rush up the emergency stairs. Halfway through, I’m ready to drop. Not enough oxygen flows into my lungs and, as much as I’d like to blame the faulty life support system, I know it’s just me being weak. For years, all of my energy was directed at being invisible and avoiding punishment. There wasn’t any left for exercise and it shows. Still, I don’t stop.

The alarms quieten as I reach the inhabited part of the ship. I pause and look around, wandering where to go. I need to find someone to help Nikolai, ideally the captain, because—

“HEY! YOU!” a voice booms out behind me.

I turn abruptly, coming face to face with a seething Krestilian. His antennae are ramrod straight, not moving as they usually would, the tips glowing with alarming orange light. “What the fuck did you do this time?!” he shouts at me.

I step back and keep retreating until the wall stops me. Terrible memories of being yelled at and the various punishments that always followed threaten to resurface and drown me. I fight against the panic attack as I think of Nikolai lying on the floor of the storage room.

Nikolai promised the crew wouldn’t hurt me. He said they’re good people.

Then why is this one yelling at me? And…why did he say that I did something? What the fuck?!

I shake my head, both from fear and in answer to his question. I didn’t do anything. Does he think that what’s happening to the ship is my fault? Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. Right now, all that matters is getting help for Nikolai. I open my mouth to tell the male before me that Nikolai is hurt, but as usual, no words come out.

Panic claws at me. I didn’t bring Nikolai’s datapad, not that I would have been able to find it in the mess the gravity generator left in the storage room. But without it, I can’t explain what’s going on.

Still glaring at me, the Krestilian steps closer and reaches out for me as if he wants to shake me. Or slap me, my panicking brain suggests.

Whimpering in terror, I drop to the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and covering my head with my arms. I’ve long learned to protect my head and stomach when being beaten.

No hits come. Instead, I hear muffled curses. “Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you.” I risk a glance up and see the Krestilian crouching in front of me. He runs his hand between his antennae, tugging on one so hard he winces. “I’m sorry,” he repeats in a much calmer tone. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just need to know what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“N…Ni…ko…” I rasp, surprised that there’s an actual sound coming out of my mouth.

“Nikolai? He’s not here. We can find him later, but now—”

I shake my head vehemently. “Nikolai,” I rasp out, finally managing to get his name right. I tug on the Krestilian’s sleeve and point down the corridor.

He frowns, his antennae swaying from side to side. “I don’t—” Then he notices the blood coating my fingers. “Wait, is that blood? Is he hurt?”

I nod, wiping the tears away from my eyes. Now is not the time. “Nikolai.” I point to the blood and then down the corridor again.

“Fuck,” the Krestilian mutters. “Alright, show me where he is.”

Relieved that he finally understands me, I don’t even protest when he grabs my wrist and pulls me up. As I rush back down the stairs to the engineering section, he follows a few steps behind, talking to the others over his comm. I think he’s telling them to come and help Nikolai, but I can’t hear him correctly over the sound of my heart drumming in my ears and the blaring alarms.

It only takes a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity before we finally arrive back at the storage room. Nikolai is still lying in the same position he was when I’d left him, in a pool of his own blood.

“Don’t go anywhere,” the Krestilian barks at me before rushing over to Nikolai. He picks through the scattered contents of the first aid box until he finds a small handheld scanner, then holds it over Nikolai’s head.

I want to smack myself. I should have thought of that! These scanners are simple, idiot-proof devices used to provide a basic assessment of the person’s health condition before first responders arrive. Anyone can operate one, yet I didn’t even think to use it.

The Krestilian points at the bandage on Nikolai’s head. “You did this?” he asks. I nod hesitantly, expecting to be yelled at for doing a sloppy job, but he merely grunts. “Good job. He’ll live. We just need to get him out of here. You too. The life support in this section is glitchy and I can’t guarantee it won’t stop working. And even Silithrae need oxygen. Am I right?”

I don’t respond, taken aback by how casually he mentions my species. I search his eyes for the inevitable flash of greed that usually follows such a statement, but there’s none.

He smirks. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t care what you are. We might not look like it, but we’re the good guys,” he says right as the door opens again and more people pour in.

“Speak for yourself,” a tall Quintran says. “I do look like a good guy.”

A Syndoran follows him inside, carrying a stretcher. “Oh please, Omni, have you looked in the mirror lately? You look like shit.”

Omni smacks the Syndoran with the tip of his wing. “I look like beautiful shit. Put the stretcher down here.” They keep teasing each other even as they gently lift Nikolai off the floor and secure him to the stretcher. Once activated, the stretcher hovers a few feet above the floor and the crew simply guides it out of the room.

“Come with us, please,” the Syndoran tells me. “D’Aakh is going to seal off this part of the ship, and it might be dangerous. You’re safe with us, I promise.”

I give him a shaky nod. I believe him, and even if I didn’t, I need to stay with Nikolai. I don’t think I’ll be able to relax until he opens his eyes and smiles at me again.

We climb the damned stairs again. I’m so numb that I barely even register my muscles aching. I’m exhausted, yet so full of adrenaline I doubt I’d be able to fall asleep.

The crew brings Nikolai to the ship’s infirmary and, under the Krestilian’s guidance they move him into a large machine. It hums, probably scanning him again.

Feeling completely out of place, I retreat into an empty corner, sliding down on the floor.

A Zyderi female curiously watches me from a nearby bed. She’s cradling her arm to her chest and winces in pain whenever she tries to move. She doesn’t talk to me, though, and I’m grateful for it.

There are too many people rushing around in here, too much noise. The smell of blood and antiseptic hanging in the air reminds me of way too many bad memories. Doing my best to ignore them, I curl up in the corner, close my eyes, and focus on my breathing. Nikolai’s voice guides me through the exercise and I can almost see his smile before the image is replaced by his face covered in blood. A shudder runs through me and my eyes snap open.

“... think she’s in shock,” someone whispers nearby. Then the red-haired human crouches in front of me, giving me a bright smile. “Hi. You’re Z’Ree, right? I’m Astra and—Oh. Do you understand me?”

She knows my name. I’m taken aback by that simple fact. No one has bothered to learn my name in years and now two people know it? Or maybe more? It’s unthinkable.

Astra smacks herself. “Right. I’m an idiot. Of course you don’t understand me. Hey, Tareq? Can you come translate for me, please?”

I tap Astra’s hand to get her attention, then nod at her. I do understand her, even though she speaks a different language than Nikolai. I was merely too surprised to react to her question.

“You understand me?” she asks. When I nod again, she waves her Syndoran partner away and gives me another smile. “That’s great. Look, I won’t bother you for too long. I understand if you prefer to be left alone. I just wanted to give you this,” she says, sliding a brand new datapad in my direction. “Nikolai said you don’t speak much, so I thought you could use the datapad to write instead. You can also message me if you need anything. And I mean, anything.” She reaches forward to grab my hand, but stops herself before touching me. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I’m a hugger but I promise to keep it down around you.”

I surprise us both by taking her hand and squeezing it lightly. “Thank you,” I manage to say, the words a little garbled but understandable. It’s still difficult to speak and panic grips me every time I open my mouth, but I’m determined not to rely on typing to communicate.

I’m getting my voice back.

“No problem,” Astra replies. “I also brought you some clean clothes. They’re going to be a little too large for you, since you’re shorter than me, but they’ll do until we can get new ones. I mean, you can stay as you are, if you want to, but I thought you might be craving a long, hot shower? And, well… The guys already figured out where you’re from, so there’s no need to hide anymore. You’re safe now.” She squeezes my hand. “Completely safe. We can take you wherever you want to go, or you can stay here on the ship if you want. There’s a ton of room here and the guys are all nice. Even D’Aakh and Lyriana, when you get to know them.” She glances at the Krestilian, who’s still working on the machine scanning Nikolai, and on the Zyderi female with the broken arm. “They’re sweethearts, really,” Astra chuckles.

The Zyderi female, Lyriana, scowls, tossing a pillow in our direction. Astra just laughs harder. “Love you too,” she shouts at her.

A warm, almost forgotten feeling spreads through my chest.

I like this. The bickering, the teasing, even the arguing that doesn’t end up in people hurting each other. It makes me remember my own family. How my parents sometimes squabbled, only to make up a few hours later. We were in hiding and in constant danger, but I remember how happy we were together.

These people have the same thing and I can’t help but feel envious. I want to be a part of it. Too bad I’m just a mentally unstable outsider who can barely speak.

“So, would you like to take that shower?” Astra asks. “D’Aakh said Nikolai needs to stay inside one of those healing machines for a few hours because of his head injury, so you won’t miss him waking up if that’s what you’re worried about. You can even get some sleep. We set up a room for you—”

I shake my head. “No.” It’s just a whisper, but it didn’t take as much effort to form the words this time. I’m getting better. Still, since I need to say more, I activate the datapad. “I would like to stay here, if I can,” I type.

When I’m done, the symbols shift into something Astra can read. I notice her symbols are vastly different from Nikolai’s symbols, which makes me wonder just how many languages humans speak.

“Of course. There’s a patient room in the back with its own bathroom,” Astra says, jerking her chin toward the back of the infirmary. “The guys will move Nikolai there once the machine deems him healed.”

That’s perfect. I want to stay with Nikolai. No, I need to stay with him.

I can’t even begin to explain my physical need to stay close to him. It’s not just that he’s the only person I know and fully trust on this ship full of strangers. It’s more. As if every atom in my body is drawn to every atom in his body. I can’t leave him.

“Okay,” Astra smiles. “Do you want me to show you around? And is there anything else I can do for you?” She stands up, still holding my hand so I’m pulled up with her.

“Y…yes,” I say, proud of myself for managing another word. The numbness I felt is still in the back of my mind, but it’s currently warded off by Astra’s bright and cheerful presence.

There is something I want done as soon as possible and I can’t believe I haven’t asked Nikolai to do it already. When Astra looks at me, I tap at the collar around my neck.

“Ooh, of course. My favorite procedure,” she grins. “Come on.”