The characters that have appeared in previous Star Wars novels are property of Lucasfilm, Ltd. Captain Amaryl Assay, Admiral Tesh Dorass, First Officer Azzeh, and the name of Tycho's droid belong to the author. Any other characters presented here that have never been seen in a Star Wars novel are property of Iris Bailey. Do not repost anywhere without the permission of the author!
Wedge lay on the deck of the Pulsar Skate, struggling for air. He gripped painfully onto Heblon’s arm with his right hand. 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 hands. 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, then 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 touched 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 so." She gently lay 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 placed his hands over Wedge’s heart and began to pump. After five compressions he paused, then performed another five. After the tenth compression, 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 hanger when we arrive. He is in full cardiac arrest and we are trying to revive him. 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 headed out in front of the yacht and formed a protective screen with Rogues Two and Four. He searched his screen 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 is in full cardiac arrest and will need immediate medical assistance. We’re heading for your hanger bay so we’re going to need space to land there. ETA is four minutes. Get medics to the hanger right now!"
"This is Captain Assay. The hanger is empty and medics are on their way to the bay and will meet you there. 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 just enough fuel to get them to the Venture and the Paladin. Once they had refueled, they would head back out to help cover the troops planetside.
He opened the channel to Elscol on the planet. "Rogue Leader to Elscol. Come in, El."
"I read you, Tycho. Where are you?"
"We’re escorting the Skate to the Paladin. From what I’ve gathered from their transmissions, Wedge is in pretty bad shape." He paused as a wave of anxiety passed 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. We’ll provide you with 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 are not 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. Get the General to safety."
"Understood, El. You take care down there. I’ll contact you with any news on Wedge."
"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 hanger. 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 and blood was beginning to soak through his gray green uniform jacket. But he refused to give in.
Ajene continued to breathe for Wedge. Her expression was equally determined as she counted his 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 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.
"Okay, you monitor his breathing while I keep track of his pulse. If there is any change, we may need to start CPR again."
"Understood." She crouched down on the deck, keeping her face near Wedge’s, her entire attention 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. He suddenly felt lightheaded and leaned on a nearby chair. There was something wet in his other hand, and he swallowed hard when he realized it was his own blood running down his arm.
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 he was 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 Tainer 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 lay 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 came flying out of 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 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 room 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 put enough of an edge into her voice that the medic 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 hanger. 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 slowly made their way out of the lounge and down the ramp into the hanger 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 hanger just yet.
Copyright June 13, 2001 by Susan Hill.
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