Challenge #01728-D267: 'Tis But a Scratch
"So, you're telling me that even if a human tried to kill himself by stabbing his head, he could be perfectly fine if the blade goes between the hemispheres of the brain without damaging anything ?"
"Yup, and I didn't talk about Phineas Gage, who got a large iron rod through the head and survived without some part of his brain, or the war veteran who survived a bullet through the heart. Even if we don't have exoskeleton, we are pretty resilient. This is why if something threatens you, shoot at least 2 times." -- Anon Guest
Human Jaylen was dead. Va'shath had seen hir die. Nobody could survive so many of the Jo'qith's arrows[1]. They were tipped with deadly theobromine extracts, and many of them had gone right through Human Jaylen. But the human had given Va'shath the time to get to the emergency escape pods, and that was a gift that could not, would not be wasted.
Va'shath was alone in the pod. The last to leave. The last survivor of the Magnificent. She remembered the words of the ships' Human. You always watch your loved ones leave until they are out of sight. Especially when it's the last time. So she watched, keening the songs of sadness, as the emergency vessel took her away from Human Jaylen until the port window was nothing but a bright speck in amongst cascading explosions. Watched until the Magnificent itself was just a speck in the darkness. Until she could no longer see any trace of it or her Human friend.
The human had to have died. Which was why it was quite a shock when the Magnificent came limping into dock. Human Jaylen at the helm.
Ze was alive! And parts of hir were still pierced by Jo'qith arrows, though Human Jaylen had taken some time to cut the barbs short, lest they snag on things and make hir injuries worse. Other parts, especially the limbs, had had the arrows removed and the wounds stitched shut.
Despite her wishes to rush her friend in eager greeting, Va'shath hung back. She had heard the human tales of zombies and their hunger for living flesh. "I saw you die," she said. "I sang your mourning song. I kept your name alive."
Human Jaylen had part of an arrow sticking out of a bandage over hir eye. The bandaging was not bloody, but it implied that the human had lost part of their vision. In a few minutes, the Mediks would swarm and take hir away for operations and discussions about replacement options. "I'm sure your song was beautiful. It's okay. I only look undead." Ze gestured for Va'sheth to come in for a hug.
She could hear the heartbeat when they embraced. Feel the warmth of her endothermic friend. "I thought you were dead."
"So did the Jo'qith," Human Jaylen grinned. "That was when the fun really started. Turns out, they've seen a few zombie movies, too. And I managed to get my hands on a taser before all the fun really started." The human cackled. "Never bring an arrow to a taser fight. After that, it was all 'pew pew' and running and screaming. Only felt it after I'd got them gone, and I could still hang tough long enough to reboot the emergency systems. The med bay just had the automated patch bots up, so I erred on the side of caution, there." Hir gesture took in the places where ze was still pierced by Jo'qith shafts. "I'm going to be okay. Okay?"
Va'shath was never happier to echo, "Okay." She followed her human friend as the Mediks swarmed and made hir lie down on a stretcher. Joined as designated companion in the Tube and suffered the rough jinking at top speed to the operating theatre. And watched behind the uncrossable barrier as they took Human Jaylen away to get the medical help ze needed. But this time, the human had a thumb upraised in a cheerful gesture.
You always watch your loved ones leave until they are out of sight. Always.
Just in case it is the last time.
[1]: Space is an environment where you do not want to carry around a weapon that can shoot a missile through an engine block.
[AN: There was a comment on this prompt that simply has to be preserved for posterity and it follows below]
I've been a paramedic since late 1987. Less than two years into the job, I had a guy who'd been shot in the middle of the forehead. We hadn't even touched him. He was so very obviously dead that we had immediately started on the other victim who looked like he might make it.
And then the dead guy sat up. He complained loudly, colorfully, and used swear words with which I, a former sailor was unfamiliar, and used them in loud, but complete sentences. It took several seconds to restrain him and keep him from touching the wound. The bullet had broken the skin, but not gone completely through the bone. It had effectively ricocheted around to the right mastoid region while still between the skin and bone. He had an amazing concussion and a minor frontal skull fracture. But no complete penetration.
He recovered completely. But I had been absolutely sure he was dead on first impression. -- Bard2dBone
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Teamarbeit]
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