begin treatments. So we are going to take you into the building. You will be guarded at all times, so you have no reason to fear what will happen.”
Jessa wanted to scream that they hadn’t hurt her. That it was the humans, but the words stuck in her throat. So she nodded mutely.
He could hear a vehicle approaching. For the last hour he’d struggled to remember to use their terms, waiting impatiently for the appointed time to arrive. Joras has been calm and patient, something Galan had always considered himself to be. Except today.
The rumble of voices intruded on his internal ruminations. Was this her? Was she truly here? Each time he’d heard one of their land based vehicles he had stood, waiting only. Each time his hopes were dashed as another ailing and sickly human entered the room. The ache in his chest released a little more.
The door opened and there she stood. Pale, sweating and obviously in pain. He didn’t dash to her side, even though his body demanded it. He had to act nonchalant. Joras had hammered that home, and he knew, on a purely subconscious level, that was the advice he would have given to anyone in his position. But this time, he struggled to remain impassive.
He scanned her with his gaze , taking in the wooden aides under her arms. He checked her over, dipping to her breasts, full and high beneath her light top, and down to the skirt. Finally, he caught sight of the monstrosity on her leg. ‘Bodily damaged’, Joras had reported. Rage grew, contorting within him like an angry dragon ready to soar. With ruthless efficiency he chained it in.
Jessa hobbled her way towards a chair. He moved, dragging out a seat and watched as she settled into it with a grateful grunt. The agent at his side pulled another chair forward and slowly raised the leg to the padded surface. She hissed as if feeling a bone deep ache and he curled his fingers into the flesh of his palms. “Jessa? What happened to you?”
She turned and he could see the pain dazing her eyes. “Healer? Deal with Jessa first.” He bit the words out. Waiting as his medics came closer, scanning her body with a small portable device before shaking their head.
“Barbarians.” He could hear the healer’s comments and agreed inwardly with the sentiment. In a flash the man had crossed the room, sifting and sorting through his assortment of technology and herb based remedies. Satisfied, he came back and attempted to gain access to the leg. “How do you get to the flesh with this stuff all over it?”
Once more Galan watched as the medic hustled back to Jessa, the whole time fury bubbled below the surface. How could this have happened to my Jessa? He returned with a small sonic cutter and made a careful incision in the dried paste on her leg. Jessa winced and looked away and for the first time since she had returned to him, Galan could see the damage wrought on her body.
Once a small section of the material had been cut away and an access point created, he could see some purple and swollen flesh below. He retreated a little way, sure he would empty his stomach before her.
Her pain-filled whispers forced him to turn around, and he waited while his stomach clenched. The healer held a small bone regenerator against her skin. He reached out and she gripped his hand tight, squeezing. He accepted the pain, hoping to offer her some support during the process of her bone setting and regrowing around the obvious fracture. Finally, her grip loosened and her skin began to lose the white pinched look.
The man sighed. “How do we even get this thing off?”
The agent moved forward. One of Galan’s security detail stopped him.
With a small grunt the medic inspected the purple mass, retreated to his bag and hunted noisily. When he returned, he held a small cutter and made an incision, slicing carefully down the thing Jessa called a cast until he held the front section. Galan held his breath, watching him at work, knowing one slip and her skin
Jessa wanted to scream that they hadn’t hurt her. That it was the humans, but the words stuck in her throat. So she nodded mutely.
He could hear a vehicle approaching. For the last hour he’d struggled to remember to use their terms, waiting impatiently for the appointed time to arrive. Joras has been calm and patient, something Galan had always considered himself to be. Except today.
The rumble of voices intruded on his internal ruminations. Was this her? Was she truly here? Each time he’d heard one of their land based vehicles he had stood, waiting only. Each time his hopes were dashed as another ailing and sickly human entered the room. The ache in his chest released a little more.
The door opened and there she stood. Pale, sweating and obviously in pain. He didn’t dash to her side, even though his body demanded it. He had to act nonchalant. Joras had hammered that home, and he knew, on a purely subconscious level, that was the advice he would have given to anyone in his position. But this time, he struggled to remain impassive.
He scanned her with his gaze , taking in the wooden aides under her arms. He checked her over, dipping to her breasts, full and high beneath her light top, and down to the skirt. Finally, he caught sight of the monstrosity on her leg. ‘Bodily damaged’, Joras had reported. Rage grew, contorting within him like an angry dragon ready to soar. With ruthless efficiency he chained it in.
Jessa hobbled her way towards a chair. He moved, dragging out a seat and watched as she settled into it with a grateful grunt. The agent at his side pulled another chair forward and slowly raised the leg to the padded surface. She hissed as if feeling a bone deep ache and he curled his fingers into the flesh of his palms. “Jessa? What happened to you?”
She turned and he could see the pain dazing her eyes. “Healer? Deal with Jessa first.” He bit the words out. Waiting as his medics came closer, scanning her body with a small portable device before shaking their head.
“Barbarians.” He could hear the healer’s comments and agreed inwardly with the sentiment. In a flash the man had crossed the room, sifting and sorting through his assortment of technology and herb based remedies. Satisfied, he came back and attempted to gain access to the leg. “How do you get to the flesh with this stuff all over it?”
Once more Galan watched as the medic hustled back to Jessa, the whole time fury bubbled below the surface. How could this have happened to my Jessa? He returned with a small sonic cutter and made a careful incision in the dried paste on her leg. Jessa winced and looked away and for the first time since she had returned to him, Galan could see the damage wrought on her body.
Once a small section of the material had been cut away and an access point created, he could see some purple and swollen flesh below. He retreated a little way, sure he would empty his stomach before her.
Her pain-filled whispers forced him to turn around, and he waited while his stomach clenched. The healer held a small bone regenerator against her skin. He reached out and she gripped his hand tight, squeezing. He accepted the pain, hoping to offer her some support during the process of her bone setting and regrowing around the obvious fracture. Finally, her grip loosened and her skin began to lose the white pinched look.
The man sighed. “How do we even get this thing off?”
The agent moved forward. One of Galan’s security detail stopped him.
With a small grunt the medic inspected the purple mass, retreated to his bag and hunted noisily. When he returned, he held a small cutter and made an incision, slicing carefully down the thing Jessa called a cast until he held the front section. Galan held his breath, watching him at work, knowing one slip and her skin
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