The Morcai Battalion: The Rescue

Hahnson had noticed it first and alerted Rhemun. It was up to the commander of the Holconcom to deal with her. He wished he could leave it to Hahnson, but the doctor was far too fond of Mallory to manage any harshness.

Pity and compassion would do no service here, he thought, as he contemplated her mental state. He’d seen this in battle, combatants who faced the horror of war for the first time and broke under the strain. They called it battle fatigue. But it was more severe in a woman of this sensitivity. It could not be allowed to continue. He needed her. There was no replacement available until the following year, until the next graduates in Cularian medicine.

“Mallory, we must lift,” he told her curtly.

The woman she was treating, a little old Altairian woman, looked up at the Cehn-Tahr who had assumed his most human aspect—the woman was neither family nor Holconcom, so his true form was hidden from her.

“She is wounded, here.” The old woman touched her own heart.

“That may be,” he replied in Altairian, “but we must leave.”

The woman stared at him. It was a little unnerving. “You have suffered a great loss,” she said in a monotone. “But you will suffer a greater one. Your life contains another tragedy of your own making.”

“Madam,” he began, chilled by her perception.

She held up a hand. “The tragedy will lead to great joy,” she continued, her eyes blank as she recited what she saw. “And to a place in history for your branch of the great Clan.” She blinked. She frowned. She looked up at him as if she didn’t recognize him. “What did I say?”

He gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

She smiled apologetically. “I see things. Sometimes I see things. I tell them. But I never remember what I have said. Perhaps it is a blessing. You look very troubled. I am sorry. I should not have spoken. It is a curse.”

He went down on one knee. His eyes lightened. “Never rue such a gift,” he said gently. “On my homeworld, there is a great seer, one whose prophecies have all come true in the recent past. It is no curse. And I thank you for your words.”

She beamed.

Edris, who was trying not to listen, finished cleaning the old woman’s wounds. “There,” she said gently. “You’ll be fine.”

“I am grateful. Very grate...” Her eyes went blank. “A terrible time is ahead for you,” she said hesitantly. Tears stung her eyes. “Such horror, for one so kind...!” She swallowed. “You must not run. You must not leave your ship because of harsh words...!”

Edris’s eyes were like saucers. “What did you say?”

The old woman’s eyes cleared. “Have I done it again?” She sighed and shook her head. “Twice in as many minutes, perhaps I am going mad.” She laughed. “Thank you for your care. I hope that someone will be as kind to you.”

“We must go,” Rhemun said as he stood up. He turned away and raised his voice, calling for the Holconcom to get ready to lift.

Edris touched the old woman’s hair. “Thank you.” She turned away, chilled by the prediction, which she didn’t understand at all. Perhaps the woman heard voices. There were some diseases which could cause such symptoms. Then she thought of Lady Caneese, the bonded mate of the Cehn-Tahr emperor, whose visions about Ruszel had been absolutely accurate. And she wondered.

* * *

BACK ABOARD THE MORCAI, Edris went looking for Dr. Hahnson.

“May I speak with you?” she asked hesitantly.

One look at her pale, strained features caused him to turn over his latest patient to his assistant. He motioned Edris into the small cubicle that served as his office.

He closed the door and pulled some odd, white, ball-shaped device out of a desk drawer. He activated it with a sequence of touches, so that it began to glow white.

“Disrupts the AVBDs,” he told her when she gave him a puzzled look. “It also blocks telepaths.” He chuckled. “We never know when the emperor may be looking in. Now. What can I do for you?”

She sat down heavily in a chair. “I shot a man. A Rigellian. I think he must have been one of the pirates, hiding until he thought we were gone. I stumbled into him.”

“And?” he prodded when she closed up.

She bit her lip. “He...died.”

He drew in a long breath and perched himself against his desk. “I understand. I’ve only had to kill once or twice during my career. It was never easy, and I suffered long and hard for it. I’m sorry, Edris. I’m very sorry.”

“I’ll have to see his face every day for the rest of my life,” she said, as if in a trance. “He looked so shocked. I tried to do something, to save him.” She lowered her eyes. “But there was nothing I could do.” She made a futile little gesture with her hands. “I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Listen, kid, it goes with the job,” he said gently. “I know that sounds harsh, but we are combat medics...”

“The oath we take says ‘First, do no harm,’” she interrupted.

“Why did you shoot him?” he asked patiently.

“He was about to shoot me,” she stammered.

“And you think your conscience would be fitter if you’d allowed yourself to die?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t...know how to deal with it.”

He made a face. “We don’t have grief counselors aboard. Well, except doctors,” he added.

“Yes. Not even an interfaith chapel. Nothing.” She swallowed. “I don’t suppose military Cehn-Tahr are religious, anyway.”

“You’d suppose wrong,” he said wryly. “They’re deeply religious, in their own way. They have a deity, Cashto. You may see small statues of him from time to time...”

“The catlike busts, with glowing green eyes?” she asked, curious. “They’re religious objects?”

“That’s right. Even Dtimun had one in his quarters.”

“I didn’t realize...”

“They’re very like humans,” Hahnson said with a smile.

“Except for the new CO,” she said heavily. “You’d insult him by even saying that.” She frowned. “Why does he hate us so much?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Dtimun let something slip once to the effect that Rhemun had suffered a personal tragedy that was somehow associated with humans. But I don’t know anything about the circumstances.”

“How odd that he’d end up commanding an interracial group like ours.”

“Their command structure is largely Clan-related,” he said. “I don’t understand exactly how it works, but Rhemun was next in line for command of the Holconcom. He didn’t have a choice.”

“The men don’t like him.” She sighed. “He’s put up more backs than a cat at a dog fight.”

He laughed out loud. “Please, don’t say that where he can hear you. I’d hate to have to repair the damage.”

She smiled with faint mischief. “Shame on me.”