Guardian Awakening by C. Osborne Rapley

hoped it would not poison him. She quickly cleaned the wound with the kit’s antiseptic and then used the sealant to bind the cut together. She hoped that no vital organs were damaged. On inspection, it seemed to be just a deep flesh wound, cutting only the muscle of his side. Luckily, the blade had been deflected by his lower rib, protecting him from a deeper and maybe fatal injury.
    Now for the replacement blood. She hesitated. What if it were incompatible… She glanced at his face, pale in the artificial light. She had no choice, she pulled the trigger. The artificial chemical blood flowed into his body. Tristan groaned. She could do nothing more except to wait the outcome. She sat with him for a while; his breathing was shallow, but it did seem as though he was stabilising.
    Please don’t die, not for something as stupid as this. After a while, she fell asleep in the chair.  
    She woke at first light, stiff from sleeping in such a cramped position. She yawned and stretched to try to reduce the stiffness in her back and legs. Several moments passed before she remembered where she was. She glanced across to Tristan. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, so she stood up, and walked over to the settee where he lay. She knelt down and carefully inspected his wound. The sealant had closed the cut with no sign of rejection. She sighed, stood, and studied his face. Of all the alien races she had dealings with, his was the closest to looking like her race. If it were not for his ears and eyes, he could almost pass for one of her kind.
    Still, she must not forget; all alien races were destined to be slaves for her people. That was the way things had always been and that was the way they would stay. She sighed and went to Tristan’s kitchen to prepare herself some breakfast. While she worked, she thought over the day before.
    She had obtained all the information she needed. The others of his race had no telepathic ability, which was strange as he seemed at times to be far stronger than her. Their shops were full of goods. Their cities had bustling centres and there were even bigger cities than the one they had visited, Tristan had quite happily told her. What an idiot, she thought. These people would make excellent, strong slaves, and their planet seemed to have abundant resources. She would be given a command of her own frigate for bringing this world into the empire.
    A groan from the other room interrupted her thoughts. She walked back into the lounge; he seemed to sense her presence as she approached. He opened his strange eyes and looked at her.  
    “Where am I?” she heard her translator say.
    “You are in your lounge, safe. Would you like something to eat and drink?” she asked.  
    Tristan nodded. She laid a hand on his forehead.
    “No fever. You were lucky, it seems that our physiology is similar or you would be dead.”
    “Why?”
    “I used the chemicals in my ships med kit to heal you.”
    Tristan nodded. “Oh.”
    He tried to sit up, but Aesia pushed him back down. “Stay there! You’re not strong enough to move yet.”
    She got him some food and drink from the kitchen. She returned, lifted his head, and let him drink. “It will be couple of days at least before you will be strong enough to get up and help yourself.” Aesia sighed. Only slaves nursed slaves. She shrugged, but with no one else available, so she had no choice.
    On the morning of the third day he wanted to get up, telling her he was feeling a lot better.
    “All right, but please be careful, you don’t want the wound to open up again.”  
    “I will take it easy,” he assured her. “Thank you for helping me.”
    Her face flushed. She turned away to hide her discomfort. “I did it for myself as much as anything. I don’t know the workings of this world to survive long on my own.” What did I say that for? Admitting weakness! She swallowed. “I have a ship to repair, I’m wasting time here!” she said, snapping the words out, trying