Hi...
You don't know me well, do you? I'm Xecta, but everyone calls me Shorty.
I wasn't in the last chapter. I was... well, I was waiting. We all wait when Capt goes out there. It's what we do. We polish our weapons, we check the sensors, and we pretend we aren't terrified that he won't come back.
But this time...
The airlock cycled open with a heavy thud. Usually, this is the part where Capt walks out, makes a terrible joke about alien slime, and asks what's for dinner.
He didn't walk out.
Prof stumbled out first. She was covered in purple gore and red blood. Her face, usually so calm and scary-smart, was a mask of sheer terror.
"Medic!" she screamed. It was a sound that made my ears ring.
Then I saw him.
Capt was floating on the anti-grav stretcher Prof was pushing. He was pale. So pale. His chest was a mess of torn fabric and wet, crimson ruin.
"Ragia!"
I heard Vice scream. It wasn't her usual angry scream. It was a broken, high-pitched wail. She fell to her knees right there on the hangar deck, her hands covering her mouth. She sounded like a widow. It was awful.
Everyone froze. Chef dropped the crate she was holding. Navi gasped. Even Arararan stopped humming.
But I didn't freeze. I am Xecta... the medic. This is my job.
I ran. My little legs carried me faster than they ever had before. I reached the stretcher and placed my hand on his neck.
Weak. Thready. He was fading.
"Heart punctured," Prof stammered, her voice shaking. "I applied pressure... but the tissue damage is... it is extensive..."
"Move!" I snapped. I didn't care that she was older or smarter. "Get him to the Med Bay! Now!"
We ran through the corridors. I jumped onto the stretcher, straddling his legs as we moved, trying to keep the pressure on his wound.
"Don't you dare," I whispered to him. "Don't you dare leave me, Capt. I haven't even told you... I haven't told you anything yet."
We burst into the Med Bay. I ordered everyone out.
"But I want to help!" Arararan cried.
"Out!" I yelled. "I need concentration! Only his bio-signature and mine!"
Vice looked at me. Her eyes were red, tears streaming down her face. "Save him, Shorty. Please."
"I will," I promised.
The door slid shut, locking us in.
It was just me and him. The hum of the medical scanners was the only sound.
I looked at the monitor. His vitals were dropping. Conventional medicine wouldn't work fast enough. He needed a boost. He needed Melios. He needed Remido.
And Remido only works with one thing.
I stripped off my clothes. My hands were trembling as I pulled my uniform off, kicking my boots into the corner. I stood there naked, my white rabbit tail twitching with anxiety.
I climbed onto the bio-bed, kneeling between his legs.
"Wake up for me, Capt," I whispered. I reached down and unzipped his blood-soaked pants.
He was soft. Limp. Of course he was. He was dying.
"Come on," I murmured, taking him in my hand. He felt cold. "You need to work. Please work."
I lowered my head and took him into my mouth.
I used every trick I knew. I swirled my tongue, I bobbed my head, I hummed against him to create vibration. I focused all my love, all my desperation, into that act.
Please live. Please live.
Slowly, miraculously, he responded. It was the Inquor biology kicking in, fighting the reaper with the promise of procreation. He began to stir. He began to harden.
It wasn't a full, raging erection. It was weak, but it was enough.
"Good boy," I sobbed, pulling back. A string of saliva connected me to him.
I moved up, positioning myself over his hips. I looked at his face. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. The wound on his chest was bubbling slightly.
"I am going to fix you," I said.
I lowered myself onto him.
He slid inside me.
"Oh..."
The moment he filled me, my mind went blank. The fear vanished, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming wave of heat. It was the connection. The Melios link. It was stronger than usual because he was so weak. He was pulling at me, draining me to survive.
But it felt... good.
Too good.
I started to move. Up and down. Slowly at first, then faster.
"Capt..." I moaned. My hands rested on his chest, careful to avoid the wound, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from it.
I looked down at his face. He looked peaceful now.
"Is it good?" I asked him, even though he couldn't answer. "Do you like Shorty inside you?"
The friction was incredible. My inner walls clamped around him, milking him, trying to draw out the life force he needed to give me so I could give it back to him. It was a cycle. A loop of life and lust.
My hips began to move on their own. I closed my eyes, throwing my head back. My ears flopped back as I increased the pace.
"Ah! Capt..."
I was losing focus. I was supposed to be healing him. I was supposed to be channeling the energy into the wound. But the sensation of his cock hitting my G-spot was making me dizzy.
I wanted more. I wanted him deeper.
I leaned forward, pressing my breasts against his uninjured shoulder. I ground my clitoris against his pubic bone.
"Yes... yes..." I panted. "Fill me up! Make me your little rabbit!"
I forgot about the blood. I forgot about the danger. There was only the rhythm.
"I love you," I whispered against his ear. I kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck. "I love you so much it hurts."
He groaned. A low, guttural sound. His hips twitched, pushing up against me.
That small movement sent me over the edge.
"I'm coming!" I cried out. "Capt! I'm healing you! take it!"
I clamped down on him. Hard.
And then, I squirted.
But it wasn't just fluid. It was glowing. A soft, golden light infused the liquid as it gushed out of me, soaking his stomach, his chest, running into the gaping wound over his heart.
My Remido.
The liquid seeped into the torn flesh. Steam rose from his chest. I watched, panting, as the skin began to knit together. The blood stopped flowing. The purple bruise faded.
I rode out the orgasm, my body twitching, my juices flowing endlessly over him. It was a baptism of healing.
I collapsed on top of him, exhausted. My cheek rested on his shoulder. I listened.
Strong. Steady.
I laughed. A weak, tearful giggle. "I did it."
I lay there for a long time, just breathing with him. The golden glow faded, leaving just sticky, wet reality.
"Shorty?"
The voice was rough. Like gravel.
I shot up. Capt was looking at me. His eyes were open. They were clear.
"Capt!" I squealed. I hugged him, burying my face in his neck. "You're alive! You're awake!"
He winced slightly, then chuckled. He lifted a hand and patted my back. "Yeah. Thanks. I had a weird dream... I was drowning in warm honey."
I pulled back, blushing furiously. "It wasn't honey."
He looked down at his chest. The wound was gone, replaced by fresh, pink skin. He looked at the fluids covering us. He looked at me, naked and straddling him.
"You saved me," he said softly.
"I got carried away," I admitted, looking down. "I... I kind of used you. I am sorry."
He smiled. He reached up and cupped my cheek. "Don't apologize. You brought me back. That is all that matters."
He pulled me down and kissed me.
It wasn't a deep, tongue-wrestling kiss. It was sweet. Gentle. A thank you kiss. But my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"But... I am still weak," he said, breaking the kiss. He tried to sit up but fell back. "My blood volume is low."
"I know," I said. I wiped my eyes. "I have a solution for that too."
I climbed off him. My legs were shaky. I walked over to the medical cabinet and grabbed a sterile cup.
"What are you doing?" he asked, watching me.
I walked back to the bed. I didn't dress. I stood there, spread my legs, and touched myself.
"Shorty?" Capt's eyes widened.
"It is the fastest way," I explained, my voice trembling with embarrassment. "My fluids... after a Remido orgasm... they are concentrated with regenerative platelets. You need to drink it."
"Drink... it?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes and focused. I was already sensitive. It didn't take long. A few rubs, a few pinches of my nipples, and I was there again.
I held the cup under me as I climaxed. I filled it. Half a cup of clear, glowing fluid.
I walked over to him and held it out. My face was burning hot. "Here. Drink up."
Capt looked at the cup. He looked at me. He didn't look disgusted. He looked... impressed.
"Cheers," he said.
He took the cup and downed it in one gulp. He wiped his mouth.
"Tastes like... strawberries," he mumbled. "And... vodka?"
"Side effect," I said quickly, grabbing a blanket to cover myself. "It has a high alcohol content due to the fermentation of the Melios. You are going to be drunk."
"I am already feeling it," Capt grinned. His eyes were getting glassy. "Whoa. The room is spinning. And you look... two of you?"
He flopped back onto the pillow, a goofy grin on his face.
"You look beautiful, Shorty," he slurred. "My little miracle worker."
"Go to sleep, Capt," I whispered, pulling the sheet up over him.
I watched him drift off, his breathing deep and even. He was safe. He was alive.
I walked over to the sink to wash up. I looked at myself in the reflection. My hair was messy, my lips were swollen.
I looked at you in the mirror. Yes, you.
I know what you are thinking. That was weird, right? Drinking... that?
But hey, out here in the deep dark, we don't waste anything. Especially not miracles.
I turned off the light, leaving Capt to sleep off his hangover. I had to go tell the others. Vice was probably still crying in the hallway.
I opened the door and stepped out, putting on my bravest face.
"He is going to be fine," I announced.
And for the first time today, I actually believed it.