Boundless

Scavengers Task

Setg'n'kah, along with Velk'n, went back to Kivar's ship.

Another party went down the planet, composed of three hunters, whose mission was to look for the missing. They had found two corpses and two surviving Yautjas, putting an end to the search efforts.

However, the search group requested backup from the Hunting party on the ground.

Moving the wounded safely back would not be done unless they discarded the dead. Wild animals would certainly make an attempt at killing them otherwise. And no Hunter in the search party was at their full capacity.

(Nor would decline such a challenge)

The good news; Kivar was alive, with broken limbs and a fractured spine. But alive.

After seeing the rescues in the med-bay, the enforcer was now waiting for medical assistance before going back because, sure enough, he was running a fucking fever.

Kivar's ship, the largest of them all, had a decent medical area. An operation theater, 10 private chambers for recovery.

Why such accommodations if his crew was not that large, Lance had asked. Lar'jar's answer: mating season. Both Kivar and Setg'n'kah were running short-staffed.

"Lar'jar?", Setg'n'kah asked once he spotted the ooman approach him, earpiece and beacon in hand. And signaled for her to stay away.

"He is running exams on Kivar, sir. If you prefer to wait, I will inform him".

The creature smelled of distress, yes, but she didn't seem affected by his rejection of her support.

"Do it", he answered curtly, and Lance nodded an acknowledgment, spun on her heels, and returned inside.

Almost an hour later, Lar'jar came to see him.

"Do you have news from the hunting party?", asked the Medic.

"The Bad Bloods are moving again. Unless they set the oomans baits free".

"Is there any pattern to their moves?", Lar'jar asked, curious.

Setg'n'kah glared in the Medic's direction. Before any could say anything else, Lance stepped into that section of the med-bay.

"You asked for me?" she said, looking at the dark predator.

"Yes. Come help me".

A 'what the fuck' was painted all over Setg'n'kah's face.

"Undo his bandages and wash him from head to toe; apply the salve on every wound and sore spot thoroughly. Once you are done, come fetch me, and I will see which bandages should work better", Lar'jar instructed.

"I don't need this ooman doing my treatment".

"Setg'n'kah, I will let you know that I've never seen someone being as good as her at washing and treating flesh wounds like yours. And I'm old. And damn good at what I do", Lar'jar signaled for her to go and fetch her stuff. "She has small fingers and no talons. You are running a fever because, despite being bandaged, there is dirt all over your wounds, and you lost almost 35% of your skin. You requested someone else to wash and treat you the first time, so she just dressed your wounds. This time, we are doing things as I want them. I have critical patients to take care off and just one fucking arm to get things done". No, not pissed. Just brutally serious.

Lance looked upwards, praying to never witness the day someone would finally take Lar'jar off-balance (he gave Setg'n'kah the scolding of his life, thought).

***

The Girl placed the beacon away from the water stream, and before the Yautja could do anything, she gestured for him to follow her.