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Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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The Terran pilot raised her hand, and Shan
swung forward, catching her lightly 'round the wrist.
"Precisely how will being arrested for
assault help your pilot?" he inquired in Terran.
The woman spun, pulling her wrist free. She
stared at him; took a deep breath.
"He's gonna die ."
Shan glanced at the still figure in its pool
of black blood, noting the ragged breath, and the sweat on the
pale, unconscious face. He looked back to the Terran pilot.
"Perhaps not. Just a moment." He stepped
forward, claiming the med tech's attention with a genteel cough and
bowed when the man turned.
"Good-day. I am Shan
yos'Galan Clan Korval, Captain of Dutiful
Passage ."
Recognition moved in the tech's eyes.
"Captain yos'Galan, I am honored." He bowed, deeply.
Shan inclined of the head, then pointed
across the room to the downed pilot.
"That person is one of my crewmen, med tech.
His contract started today. I understand that you may not tend him,
but my melant'i is clear. I require the use of your kit."
Relief flickered across the tech's face; he
held the kit out with alacrity. "Certainly, sir. Please return it
when you are through."
"I will," Shan inclined his head once again
and turned, gathering the Terran pilot with a glance and lifted
eyebrow.
"What'd you say?" she asked, following him to
where her pilot lay, alone in the midst of all the official
bustle.
"That I required the use of his kit in order
to perform first aid on my crewman." Shan knelt down, heedless of
the blood, and began to remove the towels she had used to try to
staunch the blood.
"He ain't your crew," she protested.
"Ah, but he is a pilot, and
I am partial to pilots. Besides, he might well have been mine, if he'd
managed to stay out of trouble long enough to..." His breath
caught. The wound was bad--deep and ragged. Immediately,
reflexively, he ran a quick mental sequence to relax and focus
himself.
"Knife," the Terran said,
succinctly. "He took it for me. At least," she amended, as Shan
opened the med kit and poked among the various tools of the tech's
trade, "the first strike was meant for me. Got between me and the
blade--I coulda handled it, but he's so damned fast. He'd've been OK, except
the bum leg went out on him and the hood was on him like a terrier
on a rat..."
Shan had found what he was
looking for--a suture gun. "Unpleasant, but effective," he
commented,fingering the settings. "At least he's unconscious. We'll
just do a quick patch, I think--something to hold him together
until we can get him up to the Passage ."
The Terran blinked. "You're the guy the pilot
was supposed to meet at the hall this morning."
He met her eyes. "In fact, I am--and I am
remiss. My name is Shan yos'Galan Clan Korval."
She sucked air, eyes going wide. "Tree and
Dragon," she said, possibly to herself, then inclined her head,
roughly, but with good intent. "I'm Suzan Fillips."
Shan nodded. "Suzan Fillips, your pilot needs
you. Please hold him while I do the patch."
She did and Shan bent to the unpleasant task,
sending up indiscriminate petitions to all the gods of mercy, that
the boy beneath his hand remain unconscious.
At last the thing was done. He set the suture
gun aside and sat back on his heels. Suzan Fillips took her hands
slowly from the downed pilot's shoulders and looked up.
"Tell me about this 'bad leg'," Shan said.
"Had he been injured before today?"
"He was in a crash not too long ago and the
leg never healed right," Suzan said, meeting the eyes straitly.
"You know about the crash--you're the Master Pilot. I remember your
name from the report."
"Do you?" He look at her with renewed
interest. "Where did you get the report, I wonder?"
She snorted. "I'm a registered pilot on this
port. I used my card and pulled the file. Even Terrans hear
rumors--and we'd heard one about a crackerjack pilot who'd been
drummed outta the local Guild for not having the good taste to die
in a crash. I read the reports--yours and the one they liked
better. Tried to
The Terran pilot raised her hand, and Shan
swung forward, catching her lightly 'round the wrist.
"Precisely how will being arrested for
assault help your pilot?" he inquired in Terran.
The woman spun, pulling her wrist free. She
stared at him; took a deep breath.
"He's gonna die ."
Shan glanced at the still figure in its pool
of black blood, noting the ragged breath, and the sweat on the
pale, unconscious face. He looked back to the Terran pilot.
"Perhaps not. Just a moment." He stepped
forward, claiming the med tech's attention with a genteel cough and
bowed when the man turned.
"Good-day. I am Shan
yos'Galan Clan Korval, Captain of Dutiful
Passage ."
Recognition moved in the tech's eyes.
"Captain yos'Galan, I am honored." He bowed, deeply.
Shan inclined of the head, then pointed
across the room to the downed pilot.
"That person is one of my crewmen, med tech.
His contract started today. I understand that you may not tend him,
but my melant'i is clear. I require the use of your kit."
Relief flickered across the tech's face; he
held the kit out with alacrity. "Certainly, sir. Please return it
when you are through."
"I will," Shan inclined his head once again
and turned, gathering the Terran pilot with a glance and lifted
eyebrow.
"What'd you say?" she asked, following him to
where her pilot lay, alone in the midst of all the official
bustle.
"That I required the use of his kit in order
to perform first aid on my crewman." Shan knelt down, heedless of
the blood, and began to remove the towels she had used to try to
staunch the blood.
"He ain't your crew," she protested.
"Ah, but he is a pilot, and
I am partial to pilots. Besides, he might well have been mine, if he'd
managed to stay out of trouble long enough to..." His breath
caught. The wound was bad--deep and ragged. Immediately,
reflexively, he ran a quick mental sequence to relax and focus
himself.
"Knife," the Terran said,
succinctly. "He took it for me. At least," she amended, as Shan
opened the med kit and poked among the various tools of the tech's
trade, "the first strike was meant for me. Got between me and the
blade--I coulda handled it, but he's so damned fast. He'd've been OK, except
the bum leg went out on him and the hood was on him like a terrier
on a rat..."
Shan had found what he was
looking for--a suture gun. "Unpleasant, but effective," he
commented,fingering the settings. "At least he's unconscious. We'll
just do a quick patch, I think--something to hold him together
until we can get him up to the Passage ."
The Terran blinked. "You're the guy the pilot
was supposed to meet at the hall this morning."
He met her eyes. "In fact, I am--and I am
remiss. My name is Shan yos'Galan Clan Korval."
She sucked air, eyes going wide. "Tree and
Dragon," she said, possibly to herself, then inclined her head,
roughly, but with good intent. "I'm Suzan Fillips."
Shan nodded. "Suzan Fillips, your pilot needs
you. Please hold him while I do the patch."
She did and Shan bent to the unpleasant task,
sending up indiscriminate petitions to all the gods of mercy, that
the boy beneath his hand remain unconscious.
At last the thing was done. He set the suture
gun aside and sat back on his heels. Suzan Fillips took her hands
slowly from the downed pilot's shoulders and looked up.
"Tell me about this 'bad leg'," Shan said.
"Had he been injured before today?"
"He was in a crash not too long ago and the
leg never healed right," Suzan said, meeting the eyes straitly.
"You know about the crash--you're the Master Pilot. I remember your
name from the report."
"Do you?" He look at her with renewed
interest. "Where did you get the report, I wonder?"
She snorted. "I'm a registered pilot on this
port. I used my card and pulled the file. Even Terrans hear
rumors--and we'd heard one about a crackerjack pilot who'd been
drummed outta the local Guild for not having the good taste to die
in a crash. I read the reports--yours and the one they liked
better. Tried to
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