Every Last Mother's Child

by William J. Carty, Jr

  Chapter 10: On the HPS Valiant.

  When Admiral Joyce Wilson was first injured on Trena, she had been taken to the Hospital Patrol Ship Valiant. The men and women of the Interstellar Rescue Service were not going to take any chances with one of their admirals, even if she had been retired for a couple of years. Ironically the Valiant was Admiral Wilson’s first command tour as a Landing Craft Squadron Commander. It was where she had met her husband almost thirty years before. She was their admiral, even though she had never shipped aboard the Valiant after she got her eagle and made captain. She was part of the ship’s legend. Now the legend had come back to her roots. None of the crew had ever shipped with the admiral before, but several of the pilots had been one of her students over the years, either in primary flight where she had retired from or in the advance flight school. She was known as the Iron Maiden for her toughness on the flight deck when training young pilots. More so to the commanders who would command the pilots on a hospital ship or on an attack carrier! She had caused many a pilot to think about changing their career path. Many of the squadron commanders had come back to Mars and had made a point to leave her some remembrance from their first cruise as a squadron commander. Through the years when one of the nuggets she had given their primary flight training to, had made squadron commander, they had left her their nugget wings. She was well respected in the fleet, and even though thought to be a royal pain in the ass she was loved by the fleet. She would never be a starman’s admiral, but it was well known throughout in the fleet that her pilots brought their charges back to the ship in good shape.

  Outside her hospital room where they had yet to awaken her from the deep sleep they induced so that her injuries could heal a bit faster and she wouldn’t fight the drugs, a Marine Black Guardsmen stood guard at the door. The Admiral was almost as well loved by the marines as the IRS. Not only was she their most famous marine’s step mother, she was also one of the few IRS, or Imperial Navy Pilots, who knew the sharp end of the stick and how the marines used it. She had been at one time prior to her husband’s death, a member of the Black Guard. Only a hand full of pilots ever qualified for the Special Forces. Being a flag officer, the Valiant had opened one of its VIP suites for her. In the reception area to the suite, pilots who had been trained by her had left get well cards. A few of them had left a bloody glove where they had taken their dress uniform saber, drew it across their palm and with blood flowing had taken their white uniform glove to stop the bleeding, swearing a blood oath to get the person who had done this to their admiral.

  Joyce knew nothing of this. She had been in a medically induced coma for most of the week while the treatment the hospital staff had commenced took. They knew from her records that the fast healing tanks used by other sick or injured people didn’t work for her. So the chief surgeon of the ship, a man on his first chief surgeon tour, kept her under while drugs and nanobots repaired the damage. Finally with most of the damage repaired with only a small laceration left that the nanobots would heal, the surgeon decided to wake her up.

  “Chris,” the surgeon turned to the nurse who was in charge of the VIP suite, “It will be an hour or so before she wakes up, but I don’t want her left alone. If you need to leave for any reason you get someone up here pronto.”

  “Sir,” the nurse who had been aboard the Valiant when Joyce was injured the first time years before, was in the emergency room when they had brought her in this time. She had always felt a bit guilty for not being good enough then. She was now very good at her job. “I or one of my girls will be here until she is awake.”

  “Okay lieutenant,” the surgeon said, “I’ll have the captain call Admiral Wilson’s family.”

  The surgeon left as the nurse started to make her charge presentable. She pulled the blanket up around her a bit, brushing her hair as best she could, and making her comfortable. She also dimmed the lights a bit and brought up some gentle music. When the admiral awoke, she wanted the admiral to be in the most serene, calming environment she could manage. She also brought in some of the flowers from the sitting room. She settled down for a bit of a wait. It wasn’t long, about an hour later her charge started to stir.

  “It’s okay admiral,” Chris laid her hand on the woman’s good hand, “You’re in good hands, you’re aboard the Valiant. I’m Chris your nurse.”

  “What...” Joyce said her eyes opening, she looked at Chris, then around and said, “Oh shit they got the arm again.” She started to move her arm but it was still immobilized.

  “You can’t move the arm as we have it in an isolation field.” Chris said, “Who are you?”

  “Rear Admiral Joyce Wilson,” the older woman said, “the last thing I remember is a fire fight and me getting shot. Where’s my daughter in law.”

  “Admiral,” the nurse said carefully, “Lady Wilson was kidnapped by the woman who did this to you. There isn’t much known about her whereabouts, but we know her to be alive. The Marshal will be here in a little while.”

  “I got to get to Mike and my granddaughter.” the retired admiral said, “They must be in sorry shape.” She struggled to get out of bed.

  “Easy Admiral,” Chris said, “you are in mild restraints while the nanobots finish up with your arm. You didn’t have it shot off this time. Only a break and a bad cut; but until the ‘bots finish their work you are not going anywhere.”

  “I have to get to my family,” Joyce said, “You’ve got to let me go to them.”

  “Easy admiral,” the surgeon walked in. “You keep thrashing around like that and you’ll mess up some of my best work. That will piss me off. And it will delay you getting home another week. Nurse shut the restraints down to one eighth power.”

  The nurse tapped a command on her pad and the restraints lowered their strength. The surgeon tested Joyce’s hand strength. He also had the nurse adjust field so that it allowed her to move her elbow and hand a bit.

  “Well admiral,” the surgeon said, “It’ll be another day at least before we can release you. The nanobots are sewing up the wound and repairing the muscle damage. I won’t allow you to be even medically transported until they are finished.”

  Resigned to her fate, she said, “Commander, can you hook me up with a com, and get someone to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Chris,” the surgeon said, “See that she has a com, and I’ll see if the intel officer can come down and give you a briefing. Oh the Marshal and your granddaughter are en route they should be here in a little while.”

  “Tell me what happen to my arm,” the woman finally asked.

  “During the fire fight after you had accounted for I think the MPs said two of the bad guys you took a round in your radius. The round took a two centimeter piece out of it. The ulna wasn’t harmed at all. Some muscles and blood vessels were messed up. The Medics at the Evac Hospital got to you soon enough to control the bleeding. They supported you by giving you fluids. The bots rebuilt your radius and have just about finished with your arm muscle and skin. It’ll be another day before they will be done. The bots controlled a little bit of infection, and fixed a little bit of damage from your earlier injury. Once the bots are done you shouldn’t have any restrictions.”

  “I got lucky,” Joyce said, “Thank you commander. You say Mike and Jill are on their way up?”

  “Yes,” The commander said.

  “Chris can you get me a robe or something,” The admiral asked. They had seen no need to clothe her while in isolation and no one; but the doctors and nurses treating her they had covered her with a blanket for modesty and that was all.

  “Sure thing,” Chris said going to a closet where a robe that was the admiral’s size was waiting for her to put it on.