My heart races, a frenzied beat against my chest as I hover over Behtu's prone form. With hands that betray none of my inner turmoil, I reach for the instrument that will detach the device from Behtu’s spine. The tool is a sleek, metallic device with intricate engravings along its surface, shimmering under the stark lights. Its handle fits perfectly in my grip, cool to the touch as I’m poised above my heart-stopping task.
Before I begin, I glance at the wafer-thin scanner Qhix holds above the Grymlok device embedded along Behtu's spine. The thin square projects the inner workings of Behtu's body onto the sleek screen of the internal imager before me, every nerve and synapse displayed in stark relief. His anatomy is more complex than any human's, but I fall back on my years of schooling and experience in the ER to guide me through this labyrinth of alien biology.
The device is lodged deep, entwined with nerves that could spell disaster if my hand slips. Breath held, I am acutely aware of the stakes. One wrong move could paralyze him.
"You’re going to do fine. Take your time and go slow,” Qhix’s voice is steady, clinical, yet there's an undercurrent of urgency that matches the thrumming of my own heart. His presence is both reassuring and unnerving as if his proximity amplifies the charged atmosphere between us.
"Steady, Jules," I murmur to myself, maneuvering deftly with my tool not designed for human hands, yet adapted to my touch. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cool air inside the medic bay.
With precise movements, I delicately maneuver the tool to release the clamps that tightly secure the alien device to Behtu's flesh. Each clamp gives way with a faint click, freeing the device's hold on his spine. Next, I reach for another specialized instrument, its tip designed for intricate extraction procedures. As I guide it toward Behtu's spine, my hands remain steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
The tool engages, capturing, and locking onto the device. I look up at the internal imager, at the delicate webbing of tissues surrounding the foreign object.
“Here we go,” I breathe to Qhix.
I ease the device from Behtu's spine, each millimeter a painstaking eternity. My hands move with deliberate care, the delicate procedure demanding unwavering focus. The air in the room hangs heavy, suffocating, every breath measured as I draw out the device ever so slowly, as if time itself has come to a standstill in this crucial moment of liberation. With a steady hand, I finally guide the last of the Grymlok device's tendrils away from the sensitive nerve bundles nestled within Behtu's spine.
"Got it," I whisper, my pulse thrumming in my ears.
I set the vile device aside on a metallic tray as Qhix attaches the medical cuff around Behtu’s forearm. He taps on the array of keys until an intricate pattern of multi-colored lights danceacross the smooth screen. Qhix assures me, attaching a sleek medical cuff around Behtu's forearm. Its surface comes alive with tiny lights, pulsing rhythmically as it works to heal his body from within.
"Will it heal him completely?" I ask, my voice tinged with worry as I glance at Behtu's still form on the medical table.
"Yes. When the blinking lights turn a steady white means he is healed completely," Qhix confirms, his tone reassuring and light. “Now that you’ve done the hard part, the cuff will monitor his vitals and adjust its output accordingly. Behtu will be back to his cocky self before long."
“Thank you, Qhix,” I say, as gratitude floods my heart like a warm tide, swelling with the weight of unspoken appreciation.
“You did all the work,” he grins. “I just held the scanner. It should be me thanking you for helping my fellow Maverick. My thanks, Jules.”
“Of course,” I return his grin with a relieved one of my own. “Anything for Behtu.”
“The females were all excited to know you were found safe. Want to come out and greet them?”
"Soon," I reply, a pang of guilt tugging at me for causing concern. "I want to be here when Behtu wakes up. Please tell them I said hello and I’ll see them soon.”
“You can contact me on this comm.” Qhix hands me a small, boxy device. “In case you need anything.”
“Thanks. I will.”
Qhix leaves me alone with Behtu. I pull up a chair and sit down beside my mate, my eyes fixed on his serene face. His chest rises and falls with each breath, a soothing rhythm that puts me at ease.
Long lashes that are too long to belong to a male lay in half moons against high, regal cheekbones. Lying on his stomach, Behtu's long, snow-white hair cascades to one side, streamingoff the edge of the exam table. The puncture wound on his back, where the Grymlok device once resided, appears to be swiftly healing.
Warlord Zarnak’s words float back to me,The very space pirate who renounced his seat on the throne of Klaxis to navigate the stars.
Now that I was sitting still and safe on Pryt, I had nothing to do but think and I wondered about who Behtu was.
Had Behtu been born to royalty on his world?
Time dilates as I watch over him, the steady rise and fall of his broad chest a metronome to my anxious heart. Then a tickle of movement disturbs my vigil, jerking me back from the edge of my anxious wait. Behtu's eyelids flicker, a prelude to the awakening I've been holding my breath for.
"Behtu?" I whisper and lean closer.
Lashes flutter, and then he's peering up at me. Those glacial eyes, a startling blue, are clouded with the remnants of sleep and drugs, but they lock onto mine with an intensity that sears through the haze.
"Jules," he rasps, his voice barely above a gravelly murmur.
"Hey, you're back with me." Relief crashes over me and my attempt at steadiness falters, emotion coloring my tone.
