by Anna Carven
They walked down a long dark corridor until a welcoming draft of fresh air caressed her face. They’d reached the exit.
“Sorry, chicka,” Sera murmured, as they passed through the huge glass sliding doors. “I had no idea that a single glass of wine would have such an effect on you. I thought you Kordolians were supposed to be super-strong and impervious to everything.”
“Well, now we both know that’s not the case,” Zyara said wryly, as she became a little unbalanced on her feet. “You Humans are freaks when it comes to digesting drugs and toxins.” She blinked, realizing she’d just said that aloud.
Zyara couldn’t believe it. How had she allowed herself to get into this state? She thanked the Goddess that General Tarak had stayed behind to be with Abbey and their newborn baby. She wouldn’t have been able to live down the dishonor of her boss seeing her in this state.
“Whoa, there.” Arin steadied her. “Don’t worry. This has happened to all of us at some point.”
“It has? What is happening to me, exactly?” Zyara’s words came out a little slurred. Her thoughts were becoming fuzzy.
Jia gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Congratulations, doc,” she said. “You are officially wasted. Don’t worry. The effects of the alcohol will eventually wear off. But until they do, we’re not going anywhere. Relax, Zyara of Kythia. We’ve got your back.”
CHAPTER TWO
Zyara leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the hot, crowded atmosphere of the club, but she still felt a little intoxicated.
She shook her head as she took another sip of water.
“Feeling better?” Sera regarded her with a concerned expression, her dark brown eyes widening.
“Yes. A little.” Zyara looked up and saw an endless stream of people flowing past. The street in front of them was busy, even at this time in the darkness-cycle.
Bot-cars and Humans on small personalized hover-transports drifted slowly through the throng, people parting before them like swarms of those silver aquatic Earth creatures.
What were they called again?
Fish.
Everything around her was bright and colorful and loud. The people rushing past turned into a blur, and the riot of colorful signs and holograms adorning the walls of nearby buildings turned the streetscape into a hyper-colored picture that was both surreal and jarring.
Everything was moving too fast.
Zyara watched in fascination as the crowds gave way to a convoy of black bot-cars. The vehicles had darkly tinted windows, and there were four of them in total. They rolled down the Glory Strip at a slow, even pace.
The vehicles looked implacable and menacing, as if they wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone. The swarming pedestrians had all but disappeared from the street, providing the convoy with a clear thoroughfare.
But to Zyara’s surprise, the cars rolled to a halt.
A large group of Humans had surrounded the vehicles, seemingly appearing from nowhere. These Humans didn’t look like ordinary citizens. They wore a uniform of sorts; they were all dressed in dark suits, and they all carried weapons.
“What the hell?” Arin, Jia and Sera stared at the unfolding scenario, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “We’d better get back inside.”
“What’s going on?” Zyara’s foggy mind was taking a little longer than usual to process the scene unfolding before her.
The Humans in suits drew their blades and guns and waited. The bot-cars started forward again, but a dark-haired woman raised her gun and fired though the front window, shattering the tinted barrier.
Screams erupted from the crowd. Ordinary Humans started to flee. Zyara was being dragged back towards the club, the three Human women surrounding her protectively. Even though she could more than handle her own, she appreciated the fact that these ladies were instinctively looking out for her.
“It’s a fucking gang war,” Arin growled, shaking her head as they pushed against a tide of panicking Humans. “I can’t believe the nerve of these guys. Let’s get out of here. We need to get inside.”
Zyara looked behind her and saw that a small army of Humans had flooded out of the bot-cars, brandishing an assortment of knives, swords and bolt-guns.
A battle broke out in the middle of the Glory Strip. Mesmerized, Zyara couldn’t tear her eyes away. Underneath the crazy neon lights, the Humans were locked in a bloody dance. Those who fought were oblivious to the melee of fleeing Humans surrounding them.
“Come on, Zyara.” Human hands tugged her away with increasing urgency.
Zyara wobbled on her feet. A frantic Human bumped her in his haste, making her drop her half-empty glass of water. It disappeared into the stampede as she stumbled.
Shots were fired and as a whole, the crowd ducked for cover. The collective shouting and screaming of hundreds of Humans became a deafening roar.
This night was definitely not going to plan.
Zyara stole a glance at the convoy. The Humans were locked in a fierce skirmish. She couldn’t tell the difference between the two groups; it was hard to know who belonged to which side, because they all looked the same.
Something caught her attention. A flash of blue amongst a sea of black. There was a person stuck in the middle of the fighting; a small person who obviously didn’t belong there.
Even though her thoughts were dulled by the effects of alcohol, Zyara’s eyesight was still keen, and she could tell that the person was Human, female, and young, no more than an adolescent. She was just a child. She wore a short blue jacket and tight silver trousers. Fear was etched onto her pale face. She was unarmed and terrified.
The girl glanced back and forth, searching for an escape route as black-suited figures rushed towards her. Zyara didn’t know if the Humans were trying to attack or protect the girl.
The gangsters were yelling in some Human language Zyara couldn’t understand.
The girl started to back away, screaming in fright as a man lunged for her.
Another shot rang out, and a flare of highly concentrated energy hit the man. He fell forward, onto the girl.
The girl cried out in pain as she stumbled back, directly into the path of a wayward blade.
The tip of the blade pierced her left shoulder from behind. Zyara cried out in dismay as the girl fell to the ground, the blade still protruding from her body.
A man rushed to her side and yanked the blade out. He screamed at his comrades, who fought their way through the attackers to surround the girl.
Clearly, she was important to them.
“Apply pressure,” Zyara yelled at them in Kordolian, unable to help herself. No matter what the species, the basic principles of trauma management applied to all creatures, and the first priority was to stem the blood loss.
But there was no way they could have heard hear above the screaming crowds. A dark pool of blood was forming underneath the girl. One of the men tore off his jacket and tried to wrap the wound, but he was thwarted by an attacker who swung at him with a blunt metal pole, hitting him in the back.
The girl was losing too much blood.
Zyara swore profusely in Kordolian. She might be under the influence, but she was a damn good medic, and there was no way she was going to allow an innocent to bleed to death in front of her very eyes.
“Excuse me, ladies,” she said, breaking away from the grasp of her friends.
“Wait, Zyara!” Someone tried to hold her back, but Zyara easily broke free. She was stronger than most Humans, and she’d received training in basic hand-to-hand combat from the very best.
She pushed through the crowds until she reached the street, whipping a small Callidum dagger from a discreet sheath hidden underneath her blouse.
She always carried the concealed blade, just in case.
She ran towards the injured Human, knocking a man out with a swift punch to the chin and dodging another attacker who shouted something unintelligible at her.
She slipped past t
hree men who were engaged in a vicious struggle, dropping to her knees as she reached the girl. Zyara’s movements were a bit slower and a bit less co-ordinated than usual, but she’d made it to where she needed to be.
The girl stared up at her in surprise, her dark eyes going wide with fear. “K-Kordolian! What are you-”
“Quiet.” Zyara cut away the lower part of her blouse and folded it up into a thick wad. She pressed it against the Human’s wound. The girl winced, clenching her teeth.
Her face was pale and slick with sweat. She was breathing rapidly. Zyara dropped her weapon and felt the pulse at her neck with her other hand. It was thin and thready. She cursed and wished she had access to a trauma kit. Some basic fibrogel would come in really handy right about now.
But all she could do was apply pressure to the wound while the Humans around them fought their crazy, incomprehensible battle.
The girl whimpered in pain. She began to struggle, but Zyara held her down with a firm hand. “Be still, Human,” she said, her tone stern but gentle. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Ungh.” A whimpering cry escaped the girl. Zyara kept her hand on the girl’s shoulder as she looked around, trying to catch the attention of one of the dark-suited Humans.
She still had no idea what was going on, and she hoped there were at least a few friendlies amongst the fighters.
A tall, lean man managed to break away from the battle, locking gazes with Zyara. “She needs urgent medical attention,” she shouted in Universal. He responded with a sharp nod before turning to intercept a vicious stab, getting inside his attacker’s reach and twisting the man’s arm. His attacker gasped in pain, doubling over as the man picked up the knife and hurled it at another attacker, who was about to shoot him.
The knife lodged in the shooter’s neck with a sickening thunk.
The tall man doubled back to Zyara’s side. “You a medic of some sort?”
“I am,” she replied, trying to keep her voice even. “She needs fluid replacement. She’s lost too much blood.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Arin, Sera, and Jia standing at the edge of the fray. Rykal, Kalan, and Xalikian had appeared alongside them, and the two First Division soldiers wasted no time. They started to head towards her, smashing through their opponents.
Ordinary Humans were no match for a pair of elite Kordolian warriors. They hadn’t even drawn out their armor.
“Can you get her out of here?” Zyara asked. “Where’s the nearest medical facility?”
The Human gangster, or whatever he was, glanced at her, his expression becoming distant. She saw a silver comm device in his ear and realized he must be communicating with someone. “Boss’ll be here soon, with backup,” he said. “I’ll try and get a first-aid kit from one of the vehicles. Should be a tube of Coag-Gel in there somewhere.”
The young Human’s eyes had closed, and her breathing was becoming shallow. Zyara kept her fingers on girl’s pulse, feeling strangely helpless.
In her medical facility onboard the Korolian warship Silence, she would have had no problem stabilizing the Human. But here in the middle of Darkside, she was without equipment and surrounded by warring Humans. With her thoughts fogged by that infernal alcohol, she wasn’t able to do much more than apply pressure.
Still, that simple act could save this Human’s life.
Confusion and disorder reigned as the fight raged around her. Zyara tried to block out the interference and focus on her patient. She had done it so many times before on the battlefield, but now, her concentration was shot.
She caught sight of Rykal and Kalan heading towards her, literally throwing their attackers out of the way. “What do you think you’re doing, Zyara? We need to retreat, now.” Kalan swatted a bolt-gun out of a Human’s hand and decked him as he advanced on Zyara. “This isn’t our fight.”
Zyara glanced down at the girl. Her lips were turning a pale shade of blue, and from her limited experience with treating Humans, Zyara knew that was an ominous sign. “I can’t leave her,” she yelled. “She’s critical.”
Kalan responded with a short, sharp shake of his head. He was about to open his mouth to say something when Zyara growled. “Don’t you dare interfere, soldier.”
This frail Human girl was her patient now, and no-one got between Zyara and her patients.
As Kalan and Rykal neared, a gleaming black shape blocked their path. It was a sleek, hovering vehicle. The machine floated close to the ground, its powerful thrusters emitting a low hum. It was an impressive craft, and its wicked lines spoke of speed and grace. Powerful engines whipped up the air around them, creating a swirling vortex of noise and wind.
Zyara blinked. Where in Kaiin’s hells had that come from?
The doors slid upwards, and Zyara looked into a pair of eyes so dark they were almost black.
“You’re the medic?” The driver’s low voice cut through the noise. He leaned across to speak to her. Beside him sat another man in a dark suit. A nasty looking scar ran across the left side of his face, and in his hands was a very big gun. He had the look of an enforcer.
“Yes,” Zyara replied, wondering how he knew.
“Get in. There’s a medical kit in the back seat. If you keep her alive, I’ll give you anything you want.”
Zyara glared at the Human coldly. “I don’t need anything in exchange for my services.” She was a medic, not some common street merchant. Preservation of innocent lives was her duty. “You need to hurry up, Human. She needs a transfusion.”
What the girl really needed was urgent life-saving surgery.
The driver nodded at his companion and the big man slid out, leaving his gun on the seat. He lifted the wounded girl into his thick arms. Despite his size, his movements were surprisingly gentle.
Zyara went with him, not once taking her hands off the girl’s wound as the Human lifted her into the back seat of the hover-car.
Just as the driver had said, there was a metal case on the seat. The medical kit.
Zyara slid in beside the girl as the big Human moved to the front of the vehicle, resuming his place in the passenger seat.
The driver turned to face her, his dark eyes flashing with some unfathomable, seething emotion as he took in the girl’s injuries. Cold anger rolled off him. He pinned Zyara with his intense gaze. “Save her, Kordolian. If she dies, we all die.”
“Then tell your man there to open the case and give me something to stop the bleeding,” Zyara snapped, urgency and irritation making her voice harsh. “Surely there’s a Human equivalent of fibrogel; something you can apply to induce clotting?”
The driver turned to his subordinate and said something in a strange-sounding Human language. The big man leaned over and started rummaging through the case.
“I’m going to get us out of here,” the driver informed them. “It might get a little rough.”
Zyara grunted as she took a black tube of gel-type stuff from the enforcer’s hand, half-ignoring the driver. Right now, her attention was captured by more pressing matters.
“It’s Coag-Gel,” he told her. “Should hold her injury together until we get her to the facility.”
“Do you have any blood replacement compounds?”
“Wait a minute-”
“Make it quick, Human.”
As the driver activated some mechanism that made the doors slide down, the big Human fumbled through the kit, carefully reading the labels of the medical supplies. Eventually, he passed her a bag of clear liquid and what looked like some kind of venous insertion kit. “It’s Universal Haema,” he said. “Artificial blood for emergencies. I think this is the IV kit.”
It was the most rudimentary equipment, but she would make it work. She had to.
This Human child was slipping away.
Others were being wounded and killed out there, but Zyara was battle-hardened enough to tell the difference between soldiers and innocents. These gangsters were soldiers, and they would have known what they were getting into from t
he start.
Warriors died. That was what they signed up for.
But the girl had no role in this gruesome tableau.
Even though she’d become somewhat immune to the many faces of death, Zyara couldn’t stand by and watch a child die, even if that child was Human.
She had the power to save a life.
As the driver started to pull away, an armored hand slapped onto the front windshield, cracking the clear surface and causing the vehicle to stop.
Kalan and Rykal stood in front of them, blocking their escape route. They had both drawn out their obsidian exo-armor, and it covered every inch of their skin beneath their loose Kordolian robes. The virulent nano-particles that flowed in their bloodstream could be called upon at will and had turned them into the deadliest of fighters; living weapons. The soldiers of the First Division had often been referred to as supreme aberrations amongst Kythia’s medical community.
Out of thousands, they were the only ones who had survived the brutal medical trials.
Zyara was supremely loyal to her comrades, but right now, they were the in the way.
A plasma gun had appeared in Kalan’s hand. He was pointing it at the driver’s face.
“Get out of the way,” the Human snarled in frustration, as he revved the thrusters. Fury tightened his jaw and the hard angles of his face held barely restrained tension. Even though there were two fully armored Kordolian warriors staring him down, he didn’t flinch.
Zyara had to respect that. “Open your door,” she ordered, as she broke the tube of Coag-Gel and smeared it across the girl’s wound. Bright red Human blood coated her hands. The makeshift pad she’d fashioned from her blouse was soaked. She fiddled with the venous access kit. It wasn’t an automated one, so she’d have to find a decent vein herself.
“I’m not going to-”
“I need to talk to them. Just do it!” Zyara was beyond impatient. They were running out of time.
The dark-haired driver looked at her and made some sort of split-second decision. The doors went up.
Zyara slipped a tourniquet around the girl’s arm and searched for a vein. The Human’s blood vessels were flat. She cursed viciously in Kordolian.
