29
Wedge lay on the deck of the Pulsar Skate, struggling for air. He gripped painfully onto Heblon's arm with his right hand, and the Lieutenant couldn't help but remember that they had been through this once before.
Ajene limped over and knelt directly across from Heblon. She grabbed Wedge's left hand and held it tightly with both of her own. She looked up at Heblon. "Help him!" She glanced back down at Wedge and their eyes met. "Wedge, don't leave me," she whispered. "Don't give up now. Stay with me!"
Wedge gasped one last time, his face contorting with pain and a trace of panic before he went limp.
Heblon searched for a pulse and couldn't find one. He ripped open Wedge's flightsuit as far as his waist then turned to Ajene. "Do you have any medical training?"
She didn't seem to hear him as she clutched Wedge's lifeless hand against her breast bone. "No, please..."
He reached out and shook her shoulder. "Major?"
She managed to tear her eyes off Wedge. "What? I mean, yes. I took the Special Forces survival course."
"Do you know how to perform artificial respiration?"
"Yes...yes, I think I remember." She gently laid Wedge's hand on the deck.
"Good. I'm going to do ten chest compressions, then you give him two breaths of one second each. Don't forget to let him exhale. We'll follow that pattern for as long as we have to." He glanced at his chrono, trying to fix the time in his memory.
Heblon placed his hands over Wedge's heart and began to pump. After five compressions he paused, then performed another five. After the tenth compression he nodded, and Ajene pinched Wedge's nose and leaned over to breathe for him. His chest slowly rose then fell, but that was it.
While working on Wedge, Heblon looked over his shoulder and saw Face re-enter the lounge. "Face? Tell the pilot of this ship to call ahead to wherever it is she's taking us. Tell them we have a Class One medical emergency and need medical personnel in the hangar when we arrive. He's in full cardiac arrest and we're trying to revive him. He's been down for nearly a minute. They'll know what to do."
Wordlessly, Face left the lounge and headed for the bridge again.
Tycho's X-wing caught up with and passed the Pulsar Skate in seconds as they all headed for space. He made his way out in front of the yacht and formed a protective screen with Rogues Two and Four. He searched his display for the rest of his squadron and any possible TIEs in the area. Rogues Five through Ten were arrayed to the side and rear of the ship, above and below its midline. Wes, Hobbie, and Bror patrolled the space between the Skate and the Paladin.
The speakers in his helmet crackled to life again, and he heard Mirax hailing the Paladin. Her voice was as close to panic as he had ever heard it.
"Paladin, this is the Pulsar Skate calling a Class One medical emergency. We are incoming with General Antilles. He's in full cardiac arrest and will need immediate medical assistance, he's been down for over a minute. We're heading for your hangar bay, so we're going to need space to land there. ETA is four minutes. Get medics to the hangar right now!"
"This is Captain Assay. The hangar is empty and medics are on their way to the bay. They'll be there before you land, and we'll be ready. Paladin out."
As their ships punched through the atmosphere, the graceful lines of the Mon Calamari cruiser came into view. There were no enemy ships in their area and they had a clear line of flight straight to the bigger ship.
Tycho looked at his fuel gauge and noted that he had only about ten more minutes of flying time left. Rogue Squadron had enough fuel to get them back to the Venture and the Paladin. Once they refueled, they would head back out to help cover the troops planet-side.
He opened the channel to Elscol on Arramsetti. "Rogue Leader to Elscol, come in, El."
"I read you, Lead. Where are you?"
"We're escorting the Skate to the Paladin. From what I've gathered from their transmissions, it's touch and go." He paused as a wave of anxiety washed over him. He wanted desperately to be with Wedge, to do anything he could to help, but he and the Rogues had other responsibilities to deal with first. Mirax, Kell, and Face would take good care of him. "We'll be about twenty minutes to refuel and then we'll be heading down to join you to provide air support."
"Negative, Tycho, we've got it pretty well covered down here. The populace seems to be happy enough that Tchlinda is gone and aren't putting up a fight. And her troops were easily persuaded to give themselves up once they realized the Querulous and her TIEs were gone."
"Are you sure? You may need us to—"
"Tycho, at the moment you flyboys would only be in my way. Wedge is your priority now."
"Understood, El. You take care down there. I'll contact you with any news."
"Thanks, Tycho. I'll be in touch if we need you."
Elscol cut off the transmission, and Tycho flipped back to the squadron frequency. "Rogues, after the Skate goes in, we're heading for the hangar. Rogues Two through Eight, head for the Venture with the Stardust. Rogues Nine through Plus, we're heading for the Paladin."
A chorus of subdued confirmations came through as they followed the Skate on her course to the Mon Cal ship.
Tycho just hoped they reached it in time to save Wedge.
Sweat was beginning to drip off the end of Heblon's nose as he continued to compress Wedge's chest. The wound on his left shoulder was throbbing fire and blood had soaked through his gray-green uniform jacket, but still he refused to give in.
Ajene continued to breathe for Wedge. Her expression was equally determined as she counted the compressions and prepared to ventilate his lungs again. Her distress over Wedge's condition had been replaced by a calm determination as she concentrated on the task at hand. Heblon could see why Wedge cared so much for her. She was a strong, capable woman. Not to mention beautiful.
"Wait, I think he's breathing on his own," she said, and Heblon discontinued the compressions.
Ajene leaned over Wedge, her ear hovering just above his mouth. Heblon felt at his neck for a pulse. There was one, but he almost missed it because it was so weak. "He's got a pulse. Is he really breathing on his own?"
"I think so. But it's very shallow and irregular." She made sure that Wedge's head was tilted back, keeping his airway as open as possible.
Heblon checked his chrono again—he'd been down for four minutes. Only time would tell what damage had been done. "Okay, you monitor his breathing while I keep track of his pulse. If there's any change, we may need to start CPR again."
"Understood." She lay down on the deck, keeping her face near Wedge's, her entire attention focused on him. Heblon kept a close watch on his pulse.
A few moments later, Face reappeared. He looked from Heblon to Ajene, who was practically lying on the floor. Concern moved across his face, one of the first times that Heblon had seen him drop his ever-present mask. "Is he..."
"He's hanging on, just barely. Are we close?"
"We're approaching the Paladin and should be landing in a minute. They have medics in the bay waiting for you. Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine." Heblon swiped at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his right hand. Now that he wasn't focused on Wedge, he realized he was starting to feel lightheaded. He leaned on a nearby chair, discovering that there was something wet in his other hand. He swallowed hard when he realized it was his own blood running down from his wound.
All of a sudden, he found himself fighting to stay conscious. A voice bellowed in his head: Come on, don't give up now! Look at Wedge! He's survived worse than your scratch!
He hadn't seen Face move, but suddenly the Wraith was on his knees in front of him. "Heblon? Heblon!"
"I'm okay." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His mind began to clear as he concentrated on the pain in his shoulder. It was his anchor and kept him focused.
A vibration ran through the deck beneath him, and he recognized the rumble of repulsorlifts. Kell appeared from the bridge and approached them. "We're here." He glanced over at Wedge, who still lay motionless in the middle of the lounge. Ajene had taken his left hand again and laid her free hand over his heart.
There was a thump as the Skate landed on the deck of the Paladin. Even before the engines had completely shut down, Mirax appeared from the bridge. She stopped abruptly as she saw Wedge and visibly struggled to keep control of her emotions as she headed for the egress hatch. She slapped a control and the ramp groaned as it lowered.
Then a brief shroud of silence descended over the small group.
The silence in the cabin was broken as the Paladin's medics entered the lounge. There was a blur of motion as the compartment filled with people, droids, and equipment.
Ajene let go of Wedge's hand and slowly backed away to give the medtechs the room they needed to treat him. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against a bulkhead. A medic approached and she waved him off.
"But we must treat your wound."
"Look after the General. I'll make my own way to the medical bay." She managed to put enough of an edge into her voice that the medic finally backed away.
She watched as Wedge was gently placed on a repulsor bed. There were at least six people huddled around him, as well as several pieces of technology that she didn't recognize. They evaluated his wounds and attempted to stabilize his condition before moving him out into the hangar. She couldn't help but notice how helpless he looked just lying there.
She saw Kell and Face help Heblon to his feet and two medics approach to assess his injury. He managed to tell them about the injection he had given to Wedge and his General medical condition. They quickly passed the information on to the physicians working on him.
The group made their way out of the lounge and down the ramp into the hangar bay. Heblon walked under his own power between Face and Kell, followed closely by a medical technician. Mirax followed just behind the repulsor bed with Wedge. Ajene remained where she was, unable to face the commotion in the hangar just yet.