I don’t have a sick-bay aboard Ma-rye-a, so Damion was in the guest room with a dying patient in each bed with nothing more than my first-aid kit. I don’t usually need intensive medical treatment. My medical supplies are geared toward a headache or the flu.
The way Damion explained it was that by the Valarians injecting Daniel with anhydrates, his body was full of what must have felt like small medieval maces floating around inside him.
Targus, on the other hand, almost had his arm torn off.
Damion needed a ship load of painkillers, a well-equipped surgery for Targus and an ultrasound-stimulator to break up the rocks in Daniel’s system. Headache and nausea patches were not going to do the trick.
Coal and Ma-rye-a had their heads together, or at least virtually together, trying to find the quickest route to the best facility for the equipment we needed to save our two friends. Ma-rye-a had already kicked herself into hyper-drive and was speeding toward a window by a little planet labeled M1743H2 when the Valarians overtook us.
“You will return the prisoner,” Warsy was saying over the front viewport.
“We will not!” I stated in something just short of a shout. “We are equipped to fight and will if the need arises. Back off!”
The Valarian A-Factor was a vivid shade of red. He was not happy. Not even close.
I gave the silent signal to Ma-rye-a to cut the transmission.
“Bet he won’t appreciate that,” Coal said.
“I don’t care what he appreciates or doesn’t. He tortured my friend. Nobody treats my friends like that.” I flopped into my captain’s chair with a major pout on my face. “How soon until the window,” I asked Ma-rye-a.
“Just a matter of moments. Buckle up.”
"Any sign the Valarians are powering up weapons of any sort?" I asked.
"Nope," Sam piped up. "I think you scared them Cap."
"Yeah, right..." I answer offhandedly.
Coal strapped into his co-pilot’s chair. It is not safe to be moving about during a ride through a window. It is not unheard of to encounter another ship while exiting the window. Sometimes fast, critical maneuvers can mean a solid hit on the head or even a broken bone if you aren’t strapped in.
“Damion, we’re going to jump in 2 minutes,” Ma-rye-a informed the doctor.
“Roger that,” Damion replied. “All three secure down here.”
We jumped and the Valarians followed right behind us, like a tail on a comet.