Dishonourable Discharge: Grace Augustine

52

Trudy killed the engine of the Samson and unstrapped herself, leaping out of the aircraft. She reached up and pulled Jake's wheelchair out then helped him into it.

"Is she still...?" Norm asked as he lifted Grace from the back seats.

"Just." Ivory slid out of the Samson and stood waiting for Norm.

Norm eased himself out, Grace cradled in his arms. "Where to?"

"The medical bay."

Trudy punched the password into the keypad and yanked the door open. She moved out of the way, letting Ivory and Norm into the airlock first.

Tigger appeared in the hallway, his ginger fur dishevelled. He wound himself around Ivory's ankles insistently, miaowing indignantly when she didn't immediately scoop him up and give him the attention he wanted. The cat followed her down the corridor and into the medical bay, jumping onto the table.

"Put Grace on there." Ivory gestured to the examination table then crouched down, rifling through the cupboards.

Norm did as he was told. "What now?"

"Go into Grace's room and look for a green file with a drawing of a bandaid on the front, it's got the crew medical records in. I need her blood type." She got up and washed her hands.

"On it." Norm darted out of the room.

Trudy walked in, flanked by Jake.

"Can we do anythin'?" Trudy asked.

Ivory shook her head. "You can stay in here if you want but stay out of the way." She paused, trying to remember all of her medical training. "Get the bullet out, close the wound, get her blood back in." The woman mumbled to herself. She dumped the supplies that she had collected on the table beside Grace then pushed the bottom of her T-shirt up again, cringing when she saw just how much blood had seeped through the bandages. Ivory reached out and hastily unknotted the bandages, tossing them onto the floor. She tore a packet of alcohol wipes open and cleaned Grace's stomach as best as she could, the white wipes rapidly turning red. "Okay."

"How bad is it?" Jake asked.

"I can reach the bullet but it's how much blood she's lost that's the real problem." Ivory picked up a pair of straight forceps, trying to stop her hands from shaking. If she messed this up it would kill Grace. "Okay, okay." She repeated. She pushed them into the wound on the redhead's stomach and clamped them around the bullet, pulling it out.

Norm burst in. "I got the file, I-" he froze, his eyes locked on the blood covering Ivory's hands and the wound in Grace's abdomen.

"Norm don't you dare faint." Trudy pulled the binder out of his hands and flipped through it.

"What's her type?" Ivory asked, not looking up from Grace's stomach.

"Type AB negative."

"Of fucking course it is." The dark haired woman bit her lip, checking for bullet fragments. "Norm- actually, on second thoughts Jake open that little fridge over there and get me a blood bag marked AB negative."

"On it." He wheeled himself over to the fridge as Ivory did her best to sew the bullet hole shut.

Grace stirred slightly.

"Grace? You need to stay still." Ivory pressed two fingers against the woman's clammy neck, struggling to find her pulse. She could barely feel it against her fingers.  She waited hopefully but Grace didn't move again. Ivory slid a needle into the back of Grace's hand.

"Here." Jake put the blood bag in Ivory's hand and she quickly slipped the tube attached onto the needle.

"Shouldn't you have one of those stand things?"