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Odessa's knees were cold from the metal floor, her hands cold from the aborted gasp of her keyword by the man sprawled unconscious and bleeding next to her.
See? her thoughts taunted, He might say he disagrees, but get him desperate enough, he's just as bad as his boss.
Shut up, she retorted, scanning Chance's injuries, trying to determined which were worst. Easier said than sorted; he hadn't been kidding about the shrapnel.
You can't trust the Republic, no matter what ideals they spew.
Shut. Up. Bad as it all looked, the bloodstain above his hip was spreading with uncomfortable speed, so Odessa pressed her hands there to stem it.
Chance's eyes flew open with a ragged gasp at the pressure.
Much as she regretted hurting him--yes, even under the circumstances--it was a bit of a relief. "Chance. Chance." His eyes were hazy when he tried to focus on her and she knew she didn't have much time. "I need... There aren't enough supplies in my kit for everything. Tell me what hurts, and be specific."
Injured and half-delirious as he was, it took him a moment. "Side... where hands... nnnngh- ribs..." his voice was already fading, and Odessa shifted her hands, trying to keep him conscious. "...leg hurts worst..."
That didn't match what she was seeing, but there was a lot of shrapnel, and he passed out again so it wasn't like she could double-check.
"And for the record? I don't agree with how Master Kothe is using the command codes..."
"Vector, my medkit-" she started to say, but he was two steps ahead, already holding out a kolto injector and roll of medseal.
He nodded. "We are here if you need us." The black, pupil-less eyes were impossible to read for his opinion of her actions.
"Keyword: onomatophobia... I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to die like this..."
Odessa grit her teeth against the stinging memory. He likes you and even he couldn't help but exploit it. She shooed the thought away so she could focus.
Can't really claim I would do different.
The kolto kicked in, the bleeding slowed and stopped--though it took long enough for the latter to make her nervous. Chance's breathing was shallow but steady, and he stayed out the whole time she was working. Once the bleeding stopped, she pulled his shirt out of the way to apply bacta patches and medseal over the worst injuries on his stomach and chest, wrapped it over his pants for the smaller shrapnel wounds on his leg. She didn't envy whichever Republic medtech had to patch him up properly, but for now he was stable.
She sat back on her heels, staring at her hands, at his blood drying in the lines of her palms. Tried to hold a roiling wave of emotion in check.
I'm glad he's okay-
He used the keyword-
I didn't--don't--want him to die-
Fortunately, the entire saga was done by the time Chance stirred, Odessa's inner turmoil back behind her mask when his eyes opened.
"Oh..." he mumbled, gingerly shifting to sit leaned against the stack of crates. "...I half expected to not wake up..."
"Oh, you weren't injured that badly," Odessa said sweetly, innocently. Slightly lying to sidestep the other reason completely. "I'm not so terrible a medic I couldn't handle a little shrapnel."
"Legate, I..." the words trailed off in a pained grimace.
"We should get you on your way before the painkillers wear off." She pushed to her feet and gently helped him stand as well. "That is, if you think you can make it?" She had to meet this scientist, but afterward, if he needed....
"I can make it," Chance insisted, though he leaned on her heavily a moment. Several emotions passed over his face as straightened--far too easily read for a spy. "...Thank you. Good luck with... with Dr. Cel."
Odessa simply nodded, and wondered at her odds of ever seeing him again as he walked away.
---
He'd meant it when he said he could make it to a Republic airlift; there was a base not even half a klick from the ruined hospital. He had a stealth generator to avoid the rakghouls and any more Imperial patrols.
But he hadn't accounted for the damage to his leg being too much for fieldkit-issue painkillers to completely dull. Maybe he should've taken her up on extra help...
No. The scientist is more important to the mission, and besides, you've asked enough of her.
He cringed at the memory of the words leaving his mouth in a rush of pain and desperation. "Keyword: Onomatophobia...."
He did think it wrong, but that hadn't stopped him. He could almost taste the guilt alongside the coppery tang of blood. That probably wasn't a good sign.
He could see the lights of Aurek, almost there. Pain lanced through his side and he bit back a cry. There were still rakghouls, even if they couldn't see him.
"I'm sorry, thank you, you're a better person than most..." A litany of things he should have said ran through his mind as spots started dancing at the edge of his vision. No, almost there, hang on....
He exited stealth outside the base perimeter, called out to identify himself, and stopped fighting to stay conscious as soon as he felt supportive hands reach for him.
He hoped he survived. He had an apology to make.