"Akari, begin a full diagnostic scan of her physiology. I want a complete cellular and genetic breakdown. Cross-reference with the standard human genome in the database." Haruto's voice was calm and commanding, a stark contrast to the grim situation. He carefully repositioned the woman, trying to make her as comfortable as possible while his own nanomachines got to work inside him, repairing the minor strains from his sprint through the forest.
**
A translucent medical diagram was projected into Haruto's vision, overlaid on the woman's body. Red zones pulsed over her most severe injuries. Akari was right. Even with an advanced med-bay, saving her would be difficult. Out here, it was impossible.
"Can the nanomachines in my system be programmed to heal her?" Haruto asked, already knowing the answer but needing the confirmation.
**
Haruto looked down at the young woman's pale face. Her breathing was shallow, a faint whisper of air. Protocol 7 was designed for scientists and diplomats observing a thriving world. It wasn't designed for a lone soldier watching a fellow human die in a ditch on some forgotten planet at the edge of the galaxy.
"The crew of the Icarus is dead, Akari. The Empire we served may as well be a myth. First Contact protocols are irrelevant," Haruto stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "She's human, and I'm not going to let her die. That's the only protocol that matters right now. Prepare a transfer colony. Prioritize stabilizing her vitals and repairing the arterial damage. Leave the fractures for now."
**
Haruto ignored the AI's sass. He removed his tactical glove and drew a small combat knife from his boot. He made a shallow incision on his palm, then did the same on the woman's uninjured hand, pressing their bleeding palms together.
"Initiate transfer."
He felt a strange, tingling sensation as a portion of the microscopic machines that policed his body left his system. To the naked eye, nothing was happening. But in his mind's eye, fed by Akari's data stream, he could see the miracle unfolding.
The nanites swarmed into her bloodstream, tiny, intelligent surgeons going to work on a cellular level. They identified the ruptured artery and began weaving a microscopic lattice, sealing the tear. Others acted as artificial platelets, clotting the blood flow. A third group began cleansing her blood of toxins produced by shock and trauma.
The woman's vitals, displayed in the corner of his vision, began to stabilize. Her heart rate steadied, her blood pressure slowly climbed back from the brink. The pulsing red zones on the medical overlay faded to a cautious yellow.
She stirred, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and clouded with pain. She saw the dark-clad stranger kneeling over her, his hand pressed against hers. A strange, warm energy seemed to flow from him into her, a golden light pushing back the cold darkness that threatened to consume her. She didn't understand what was happening, only that the agonizing pain was beginning to recede, replaced by a profound sense of peace.
To her fading consciousness, he looked like a figure from a legend—a divine messenger or a spirit of the forest sent to save her. Her eyes slid closed again, but this time she fell not into the abyss of death, but into a deep, healing sleep.
Haruto withdrew his hand, the small cut on his palm already sealed shut. The immediate crisis was over. Now, he had to secure their position. He stood up and began to scan the clearing, his soldier's mind taking over once more. He would need a defensible camp, a fire, and to see to his own needs. The long night on Ares was just beginning.