Starship: Rogue

Chapter Four

 Rowan's whole body felt leaden, and, when she tried to move, fire shot through her limbs. Her head began to throb, and she fought to pry her eyes open. Nearby, something beeped incessantly, and annoyance surged. She forced her eyes open, blinking in the sunlight.

She turned her head, wincing in agony, and took in the white walls, the window that stretched across one side of the room, the sterile furnishings. Where was she? And what was that damn beeping?

Someone placed a small hand on her arm. "Gently," said a girl's voice, and Rowan turned her head the other way. A young woman, somewhere around her age, stood beside her bed. She was dressed in a medic's uniform, and her light brown hair was pulled severely back from her face. "Tell me, what's your name?" she asked, glancing at the tablet she carried.

Rowan wondered why she was asking such a stupid question. "Rowan," she tried to say, but her voice refused to cooperate.

The girl picked up a plastic cup with a straw and a lid and brought it to Rowan's lips. "Drink," she said gently. Rowan obeyed. "Now, try again. What's your name?"

"Rowan," Rowan said, and, this time, her voice worked.

"Good," the medic said softly. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," she said, even more annoyed, now. And, worse, the stupid beeping would not stop. "Why?"

The medic smiled, a sweet smile that seemed out of place. "You got hit in the head," she said. "I'm trying to see if you remember everything."

"Oh," Rowan said, the questions making more sense now. "My name is Rowan," she said, forcing herself to think as the pain swamped her consciousness. "I'm twenty, and I grew up in the Fringe. I joined the Rangers when I was fifteen. I serve in Fox Squad, under the command of..."

She tried to sit up, panic rising. "Stark. Where's Stark? Is he okay? Is he..." She couldn't bring herself to go on. Agony shot from her abdomen and legs.

"He's still alive," the medic said hesitantly. "Beyond that, I couldn't say. I know he's in the next room, but I'm in charge of your recovery." Rowan was surprised. The girl seemed so young. And there was something familiar about her. "I'm the most familiar with your case," the girl went on. "So, I've been kind of preoccupied. I'm Carter Roe, by the way."

"Um," Rowan managed to get out. Her vision was dimming, and she struggled to breathe. Her chest felt like it was on fire. "What happened?" But that wasn't what she meant. "I mean, how long have I been..."

Carter shrugged, her brown eyes sad. "Several days," she said. "But that's to be expected. You lost a lot of blood, and by rights you should have been dead. You took a shot in your chest and... one in your knee. Your heart stopped on the table. Without your friend Ripple, you'd be dead. So, take it easy."

Rowan let her muscles relax. She felt strange, like she couldn't cling to consciousness for much longer. Her mind was spinning. She remembered, now, getting shot. The hit to her stomach had been bad, but the one to her knee had been worse. So why did her abdomen hurt more?

"My knee..." she said, scrabbling with the covers on her bed. Carter set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I need to..."

"Rowan," Carter said hesitantly. "There's something you need to know. The skin on your knee was too far gone, and so was some of the cartilage. The muscles were still intact, but the scar tissue would have been too severe..." Rowan felt like throwing up. She had a good idea what was coming next, but she didn't want Carter to go on, as if hearing it would make it all the more real.

"Rowan," Carter said, her expression grim. "We had to replace the outer layers of your knee with a cybernetic replacement. The skin is a very thin kind of metal. If we'd just let it heal... Well, the scar tissue would have made it impossible to do more than hobble. You would have been in agony for the rest of your life."