Chapter Three: Anxiety and Adrenalin
There was a brief sense of unbeing as the Crimson Light sped away from the battlefield and the death throes of the Kalibar at impossible speeds. Gravity, light, and air returned to the loading bay, and with those things came hearing and touch and awareness, shouts and blood and fear.
"I've got to turn off his suit!" Little Cato cried, completely unaware he did so. Loosening his hold on Avocato's gun belt, he grabbed his father's wrist and the control for the field encasing him. Avocato lost the sheen of the plasma field that had kept him alive so far. "Come on, Dad! Breathe! You've gotta breathe! Please!"
That last plea came out as a desperate whisper. Little Cato leaned over his father, frantically shaking him by the shoulders. A ragged, labored sound rewarded the younger Cato as Avocato struggled to draw in a breath, then another. He let out a happy shout as Gary surged to his feet, hastily yanking off his helmet and drawing his blaster as he kicked free of his unwelcome hitchhiker. His hand did not so much as tremble as he aimed directly at the Scoti assassin. It took a moment for the Scoti to realize he was alive still, and when he did, he snatched up his weapon and tried to lunge forward, past Gary and at his helpless target.
Gary shot him at almost point-blank range.
The scent of ozone filled the air from the blast. Though his armored space suit protected him from the brunt of the blast, getting shot is getting shot and the Scoti crumbled, gasping and stunned, but conscious. He tried to grip the boltcaster, but his three fingers wouldn't close yet. A moment later the door opened and Fox, Ash, and Nightfall rushed to the loading bay.
"Fox, get Avocato to the medbay," snapped Gary, intent on the assassin. "Spider Cat, go with. Both of you stay with him. Ash, Nightfall, on me."
The two women joined him as Little Cato helped maneuvered Avocato into Fox's arms. Nightfall kept her gun on the Scoti while Ash, her agitation evident, floated in the air at Gary's side.
"Drop it," ordered Nightfall, not even close to messing around.
When the Scoti didn't immediately obey, she shot him again.
He screamed in pain, collapsing. With undisguised hate, he watched as Fox rushed through the doors with Avocato's limp form in his arms. Blood stained the floor where the Ventrexian had lain, and bloody footprints marked the route taken.
"You . . . you have no idea what he's done," gasped the Scoti. "General Avocato is a monster!"
"The only monster I see is the one that was going to shoot my son," Gary hissed right back. He kicked the boltcaster well away.
"He destroyed my whole civilization!"
"Then who just tried to blast us into smithereens?" demanded Nightfall hotly. She scooped up the fallen boltcaster and slung it over her shoulder. "They looked like a pack of Scoti to me." She looked to Gary and deliberately avoided names. "We're a full sector away from where we were, Captain. The Kalibar blew up and took everything in Ziga Turi's outer system with it, and one of the system's stars has destabilized. It'll probably go nova in the next year or so, so nice going there, pal." Her eyes narrowed as she regarded their prisoner. "We've got to disarm him completely."
"Ash, get his armor off," ordered Gary. "We need him starkers ASAP."
Miss Graven shuddered at the notion. "What? Uh, ew!"
Gary went for the low blow. "That white tux I told you I was wearing to the prom? It has gold lamé trim and cummerbund."
"What?" A shudder ran through the young girl, and she glowed black and purple and furious. Her voice rose in a crescendo of fury. "I told you my jewelry was silver!"
"And I forgot to order flowers."
The sound of metal being torn and crushed filled the air along with Ash's screams. Cracks appeared across the Scoti's armor. A moment later the space suit and weapons shattered before being burned away completely by Ash's wrath, leaving a very naked and startled green alien assassin lying on the floor of the bay in a small pile of grit.
"AVA, scan him for anything that doesn't belong in Scoti anatomy," ordered Nightfall briskly. "Bombs, weapons, poison capsules, transmitters, anything."
"Scanning," said the AI, for once not giving them sass. "You'll want to punch out his front right molar. It contains a transmitter."
"With pleasure," she replied, drawing her fist back.
"His right, not yours," corrected AVA a moment later as the Scoti reeled from the blow.
"I know. I just wanted to hit him again."
One broken tooth later, AVA declared his transmitter deactivated.
"Anything else you'd like to share with us, threat-wise?" asked Nightfall, spoiling for a showdown.
"No," muttered the defeated assassin, unable to look at any of them.
"Gary, Fox and Little Cato require assistance," HUE called from the bridge. Gary looked up sharply, torn.
"We can handle nature boy," said Nightfall, jerking her chin for him to go. "You go help them."
"Thanks." He hesitated, then turned to the Scoti, the rage he'd contained thus far bubbling to the surface. "One more thing." He rarely gave in to his anger – he was rarely angry at all – but it felt really good to haul back with his robotic arm and slug the assassin across the jaw, knocking him flat again. Gary pointed to where Fox had carried off Avocato. "He's the only one that gets to call me humanoid trash. Nightfall, Ash, take no crap and call if you need me."
The stench of fresh blood filled the hall, and bloody smears and splashes covered the floor. The footprints made a grim path to the Crimson Light's small sickbay, but he ran every step of the way. Avocato lay unmoving on the table, a hideous, mangled sight, and both boys were busy trying to staunch the flow of blood from the stabs and slashes on Avocato's torso and leg.
"Dad, grab us some sealant," snapped Little Cato. "We need at least three tubes."
At least three, thought Gary in desperation as he yanked open the supply cabinet to find the tubes of medgel. Three was all they had. Getting Fox back on his feet after Clarence had shot him had exhausted their supplies, and they had left Darga Spaceport in such haste that they hadn't restocked anything.
"Fox first," ordered the young Ventrexian in sharp tones, and Gary knew his kid was channeling his father and everything General Avocato had taught him about control, self-control, and keeping control when the situation demanded it. It was a good thing, too, because the tension was so high that if one of them broke right now, they'd all panic. There was no time for gloves or cleaning his hands or even taking off his jacket. Yanking the cap off the tube, Gary carefully and quickly applied the thick gel to the long and deep slash reaching diagonally from Avocato's armpit to his waist, making sure to get as much in the wound as on it. Instantly the bleeding there stopped.
"My right hand next," said Little Cato.
Gary forced the last trace of sealant from the tube before Fox handed over the second one for him to finish filling in a deep stab wound. He knew from experience this goop could pretty much work miracles. It was the same stuff Avocato had used on him when the Lord Commander had ripped off Gary's arm. It stopped bleeding, sealed wounds, eased pain, sped healing, prevented infection, and minimized scarring all at once. What was more, it worked on just about anyone carbon-based, which was just about everyone in Gary's experience.
"We need more," insisted Little Cato when Gary squeezed the last drop of the gel onto a gash on Avocato's face. "Fox, grab his coat."
The Trivuulian didn't question, he just scooped up the discarded uniform coat from the pile of bloody clothes in the corner. Little Cato checked the cuffs, and Gary recognized the armored wrist braces he'd always known Avocato to wear worked into the lining of the coat. He knew the braces were akin to a utility belt, had seen Avocato employ the tools and equipment they contained time and again, and knew from personal experience that they held more of the same medical sealant.
"Three applications," said Little Cato, checking the levels. "It'll have to do."
"Get his leg," said Gary, "Then his chest. Any wounds on his back?"
Little Cato barked a laugh at the suggestion. "He'd never show them his back."
They covered the laser burns as well they could with the remaining gel and, working together, did their best to wipe away the drying blood from his fur, then cleaned and dressed a dozen smaller wounds – shrapnel, mostly. Throughout the process, Avocato never moved, never regained consciousness. All he did was breathe, and given the circumstances, that was enough for Gary.
Moving quickly, they placed Avocato into the recovery pod and set the controls for: Ventrexian – male – adult - extreme trauma/shock. Gary grimaced at the readings displayed. He wasn't a doctor, but even he knew they sucked. Still, the unit was Avocato's best bet for survival. It would continuously monitor him and administer whatever was needed now that the worst of the bleeding was under control. The units could even perform minor surgery. As he watched, delicate robotic arms inserted an IV line into Avocato's hand and affixed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. A collective sigh was released as the erratic readings gradually stabilized. They were low – too damned low – but they were stable.
For a protracted moment, they were silent as shock settled in upon them. Then Little Cato lifted his hands and looked at the blood covering them and his shirt. His father's blood. This had happened before.
Instinctively Gary put his arm around Little Cato's shoulders, pulling him close. Only now did the young Ventrexian start to respond to the whole situation. Gary could feel him trembling and struggling to keep from hyperventilating. A quick glance at Fox showed the Trivuulian was likewise going into shock over events. Even though Fox was twice his size, he was half his age, so Gary reached for him to pull him into the group hug, standing on his toes as he was enveloped from above and below.
"I think he'll be okay. He's gonna be okay. You guys did amazing," he said, his voice weak. He drew a shuddering breath, resisting his body's urge to stop or shake or flail around as events of the day crept up on him. This episode was definitely a record breaker in terms of anxiety and adrenaline.
A faint whine escaped Little Cato and he turned his face against Gary's chest as his emotions finally overwhelmed him and he gave in to tears. Shock, relief, terror, horror all came to the fore at once and could not be contained. Fox stepped back to allow his friend space, giving Gary a quick nod of understanding. Gary wrapped his arms around his adopted son and held him close and tight, slowly rocking him and stroking his back. Closing his eyes, Gary briefly tried to imagine this moment without someone to hug, and he knew he'd be utterly lost because as much comfort and assurance and love he gave, he received. It was as if Little Cato expressed what they both were feeling, and far more eloquently than Gary could have managed.
After a few minutes, Little Cato drew a final, shuddering breath and stepped back, pulling himself together and swiping at his nose and eyes. "Thanks, Dad."
With a smile, Gary hooked his arm around Little Cato and pulled him in close to press a quick kiss to his forehead. The orange Ventrexian gave a weak little laugh, but didn't protest. Instead he went and retrieved his helmet from where he'd thrown it in the corner and set it atop the pod.
"I gotta go check on our guest," announced Gary. He grimaced at the state of his hands and clothes, and stepped to the sink to wash off the blood. He'd clean his clothes later. "One or both of you stay here. We're going to keep guard on him until we're sure he's out of danger."
"What do you mean, guest?" wondered Little Cato.
Gary blinked, realizing Little Cato had been so intent on saving his father that he'd missed the arrival of the Scoti assassin. Knowing his son's taste for revenge and not wanting to feed it, Gary simply said, "We picked up a stray."
Fox, who had seen the Scoti and was also familiar with the Ventrexian's temperament, cottoned on quickly and said, "We'll stay here. We got a lot to clean up."
"Good. Remember, one of you stay with him all the time."