Just wanted to quickly say that if you notice any spelling and/or grammatical errors have been slipping through the cracks lately it's because I've been doing the bulk of my writing on my phone and tiny keyboards and a wonky autocorrect make this SO much fun. Sorry! But to make up for it - things are happening this chapter, yay! And Zihrait!
"I don't understand how it is you ended up here… I saw in your file that you're UAA. Or were…" Hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as the dark haired woman glanced back in the direction of the piece of equipment she'd been standing beside. She appeared to be maybe in her thirties, of average build with a bronze complexion. Raven locks curled gently against her nape, the bulk piled into a mound which seemed to be held in place by two tablet styluses shoved through as hair pins of sorts. More than a few wavy strands had escaped this haphazard style and framed her oval face as her conflicted gaze returned to Pheist.
Rolling her eyes felt the best response available to Pheist in that moment. The UAA had sold her out to whatever messed up program these androids were running - her biggest regret was taking as much shit as she had from Jones before she'd wedged that combistick into his gut. What else had been in this file? Was it just her personnel record? Mustering herself, she forced her numb lips and jaw to move, managing to slur some approximation of 'help', or so she hoped. She also attempted to raise her brows imploringly for good measure. Maybe the unexpected discovery the droids weren't running this show entirely by themselves could work to her advantage.
Her prospective ally didn't seem so sure. Her hand flitted up towards her temple before drawing away at the last moment with a small noise of consternation. She then turned and walked away again.
Pheist lolled her head to the side to follow the movement and was shocked to spot a prostrate form on a second examination table only a few meters away. The pale moss hide gave him away, but she judged by how still he laid that Zihrait likely wasn't conscious. It was to his side that the woman had gone and Pheist watched as she produced a small pen light from a pocket in her lab coat and shone it into the Hunter's face. Checking his pupil reaction? She shifted between eyes, leaning in precariously close, then sighed and straightened up.
Grunting to get the other's attention, Pheist jerked her chin in Zihrait's direction. What was going on, why was he in here? He hadn't been injured last she'd seen him.
Seeming to read the unvoiced question well enough, the woman crossed her arms, her features vacillating between disdain and agitation. "One of the immobilizing agents used on him caused a reaction which damaged his corneas. I've been treating them as best I can, but he has to be sedated each time and the improvement is minimal."
What did that mean? Was she saying Zihrait was blind right now? That was going to prove a problem when Pheist determined a way to get out of this place. How was it her luck was so awful that Riot was finally mobile again and now Zihrait was impaired? Releasing an exasperated breath from between her teeth, she groaned.
"Yes, that was my initial response, too. I didn't sign on to treat aliens with eye drops…"
What had she signed on for? Impregnating humans with Yautja semen seemed like it should present more of a moral conundrum than eye drops.
Zihrait must have twitched, because she stepped back from him abruptly and went back to the medical equipment. Maybe one of them was monitoring his vitals. "He's metabolizing the anesthesia at increasingly faster rates each time he's put under. Yet another reason continued treatment isn't feasible," she murmured, probably to herself. Somehow she struck Pheist as the type.
Before Pheist could decide how she might use Zihrait's pending consciousness to her advantage, the lights winked out, plunging the room into complete darkness for a fraction of a second before backup power kicked online and weak emergency lighting flashed to life.
"What…?"
"... ttthhha hull?" Pheist supplied for her helpfully, having the same thought. This was unexpected and possibly fortuitous. The magcuffs securing her to the table housed their own power source, so she wasn't free, but this was a golden opportunity she didn't plan to pass up just the same.
Movement reached her ears from the other table, presumably Zihrait stirring further. Even if he couldn't see, his other senses were excellent and he would still be dangerous. She tried to force his name past her lips, but broke off when she noted the woman lunging for something. Pheist had no doubt the jet injector she grabbed was full of sedative, nor what she planned to do with it. "Wwwhhhait! No!" Pheist needed the Hunter awake if she had a hope in hell of breaking out and locating Riot.
Ignoring this half plea, half warning, the woman strode hurriedly towards the Yautja with the injector, but drew up short at the chilling snarl her unwilling patient emitted.
Pheist held her breath. She could see, despite the poor lighting, that the woman was rattled. "Don't. Lllllett me hellllpp."
A shudder coursed through the floor, vibrating up through the table with alarming intensity. Had Riot busted out without her? Something was obviously going to shit elsewhere on the station.
The ominous mini-quake was impetus enough to propel the woman back into action, and she stumbled the remaining distance to Zihrait's side, injector outstretched. Sensing her approach, he lurched against the magcuffs with such force that the one holding his right wrist snapped up from the surface of the table, giving him the range of motion necessary to lash out with his talons.
Pheist heard the rending of fabric and the injector clattered to the ground as the woman jerked backwards. Zihrait's hand thudded back down onto the table as the magnetic pull overpowered him, but the thunderous roar he let loose assured he was far from compliant. "Let mmmee go! Hhurrrrry!" She could hear frantic panting as the woman put some distance between herself and the rankled alien.
"And then what? You free him to rip me to shreds?" The demand was laced with equal parts scorn and fear. And honestly, Pheist couldn't blame her for either.
"Ssss-tay out of the whhhay nnnd you'll be ffffine." Maybe. She was less certain about her ability to reason with Zihrait than Riot, and he obviously had an objection to the treatments he'd been receiving.
Before anyone could do or say more, an alarm began to blare obnoxiously from somewhere. Zihrait's growling renewed in intensity in direct response and he wrenched against his restraints more.
"You're lying. He'll kill me the moment he can." Less scorn and more desperation now.
Pheist shrugged. Possibly. "You just tried to ssssstab him."
"That's what injectors do, they inject!"
"Yautja aren't fans of injections. Or medicine." At least her mouth had finally decided to cooperate.
"No one likes injections - I was trying to help him."
"Be unconscious?"
The unmistakable sound of plasma fire permeated the incessant alarm suddenly. Was it the androids fighting back? What was going on out there? As much as she wanted it to be Riot dismembering the infuriating synths and causing untold chaos, it seemed unlikely he could escape and storm the station alone. That whole faking death routine wouldn't have worked a second time.
"You have access to the security system from here to see what the fffuck is happening out there?"
"I don't know - I probably don't have clearance." She seemed to have assured herself that Zihrait's talons hadn't done worse than rip her lab coat, but still was breathing rapidly. "The security droids will take care of it. It's going to be fine."
"Is it?" Pheist lifted her head, straining to get a sense of what might be transpiring. The bursts of plasma fire were coming less frequently than they originally had now. Was that a good or bad sign?
"None of the specimens have ever escaped before to my knowledge."
"You do realize it's only a matter of time. They'll never submit."
She shook her head, whether in denial or not Pheist couldn't be sure. "I'm just here to run tests and offer medical feedback."
"Right, you're clearly an innocent bystander in all this," Pheist scoffed. "Running experiments on another sentient species is nothing to lose sleep over."
Judging by the curl of the other woman's lip, Pheist figured she'd hit a nerve. As expected. "You know how many people they've killed - hunted down like animals and slaughtered. You were UAA. How can you just pretend they're not vicious monsters?"
"I'm not the one pretending, lady. I've seen what they're capable of. I've seen what we're capable of, too." Metal groaned as Zihrait succeeded in warping the examination table in his struggles against the magcuffs. The timing couldn't have punctuated her next words any better. "Either let me go and I can try to convince him you're not worth harming, or take your chances on your own when he breaks free himself - which he is going to do."
Pheist watched as her features remained mulishly indignant, though the way her eyes continued to flit to the closed doors belied her mounting uncertainty. "What do you think is going on?" The weapon fire had fallen eerily silent.
"I have no idea. But don't you think one of your pals would have come to check in if it was under control?"
"No. They're efficient at the tasks they've been programmed to perform - 'checking in' on me isn't one of those." She was drifting towards the doors as she spoke, but paused when a very muffled and furious bellow breached the barrier.
Pheist's heart skipped a beat. "Riot!" Was he searching for her? Were they hurting him?
"Do not make me stuff my lab coat down your throat," was hissed at her a beat before Zihrait's earsplitting answer rang out, causing them both to flinch.
"And what are you gonna shove down his?" Pheist challenged, undaunted by the threat. "Let me go - I promise you, I'm your best chance at living through this." It was only a chance, but it was a better one than she'd have if either Zihrait or Riot were left unchecked.
Before the doctor could decide her fate one way or another, something struck the doors with enough force to blow them inwards, creating a small seam which wisps of smoke proceeded to trickle through. The red laser beam which shot through, triangular crosshairs flitting onto one of the pieces of equipment, promised further mayhem.
Pheist barely had time to squeeze her eyes shut before the machine exploded with a boom. She could hear the woman's reactionary shriek. "Running out of time!" There was no way that was Riot. His gear was all back on the cruiser, which meant this was an unfamiliar Hunter fully armed and about to bust in on them. Her certainty that it had been Riot she had heard roar wavered with this development. But would Zihrait answer a stranger? Had that been a challenging return or an acknowledgment?
The touch at her ankle was so unexpected that she jumped at first before realizing the woman had come to her senses. "Hurry!"
"I am!" she snapped.
"Look, I don't know who's out there, so you need to do exactly as I say or we might both have our guts in our arms in a minute," Pheist rushed out, trying to form a plan to not wind up eviscerated momentarily. "What's your name?"
"Hwynn - Dr. Olinger." She was working on releasing the magcuff on Pheist's other leg now.
"Hwynn, do not scream again. Don't run. Don't panic. In fact, just do nothing."
Another piece of the medical equipment was targeted by the plasmacaster, sending a spray of molten metal shards over them both and eliciting a yelp from Hwynn despite Pheist's warning.
"Let's try that again. What are you doing? Hurry!" The progress on freeing her seemed to have halted as she spotted the top of Hwynn's head taking cover behind the table. This was probably a lost cause. The woman was terrified.
Zihrait must have been struck by the debris from the blast as well as he snarled rather disapprovingly at the one responsible.
The moment her first arm was free, Pheist sat up and wrenched on the remaining magcuff until it opened. "Go! Move over there!" She directed Hwynn away from the line of fire as she rolled off the table and hobbled to Zihrait's side, her legs still riddled with pins and needles. Fortunately the doctor seemed to have somewhat of a hold of herself and rushed to the area Pheist had indicated as being safer just as more machinery blew up. "Give it a rest, you idiot!" She couldn't imagine any seasoned Yautja would stand outside a room taking pot shots at their prey. Was this a Young Blood or possibly even an Unblooded hunter? Fumbling with Zihrait's restraints, she glanced up and could see the extent of the damage to his eyes. The once vibrant scarlet colour was now clouded with a gray film and his pupils were barely discernible.
Fuck. This was bad. Would he even be able to fend off the other Yautja if necessary?