Page 100 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol. 1
“When the body suffers major trauma, it’s not uncommon for energy to be redirected to the most vital systems.”
“But you weren’t hurt?”
“Just a little. My hand and forearm. I spent way less time in the water than Pherebos. And maybe I had more niank oil on me? I don’t know. SILMAR, how long until we reach the rendezvous point?”
“We will arrive in forty-three minutes,” the AI replies.
Less than an hour later, after following SILMAR’s instructions to the letter, the SIL docks with theRenaissance, the Confederation’s medical ship.
The airlock door has barely opened when several people rush into our vessel, carrying a stretcher.
“Are you Ileana?” asks a blonde woman—clearly human.
“Yes, that’s me. Quick, we need to get Pherebos into a regeneration chamber!” I say, rattling off a list of medical observations and vitals I’ve been tracking for my beautiful Asgarnian.
Wingo and I follow them into a spacious room equipped with a dozen regeneration pods—three of them already in use.
I watch anxiously as these strangers undress Pherebos completely and slide him into one of the pods. I let out a deep sigh of relief when the lid finally seals shut.
I slide down the wall and sit on the floor. I know it’ll be hours before he’s fully healed.
“Is it going to take long?”Wingo asks, echoing my own thoughts.
“No idea exactly. But yeah… several hours at least, I’d say.”
“Then let’s wait. And rest,”he concludes, curling up at my feet.
A few minutes pass before the blonde woman returns and stands in front of us.
“Ileana? I’m Bianca. I’m here to check if you’re injured and need treatment.”
“That’s kind of you, but my wounds are manageable. No need to waste a pod on me.”
“Let me see,” she insists.
Reluctantly, I roll up my sleeve and show her the four-centimeter-long, one-centimeter-wide necrotic trail carved into the front of my forearm. Then I show her the inside of my hand.
“I see. Come with me. We have newer tools—smaller than the pods. They’re only good for surface wounds, which is your case.”
“That’s kind of you, but I’d rather stay with Pherebos and Wingo.”
“You should let her treat you. I’ll stay with him—don’t worry.”
I hesitate, then meet Wingo’s golden gaze. There’s something reassuring in it, something that tells me it’s okay to take a moment for myself.
I finally nod, and both of them seem relieved. Pain shoots through my arm as I press it against the wall to help myself up. Yeah… maybe getting treatedisa good idea after all.
I cast one last glance at Wingo, then turn to follow Bianca, the kind blonde.
We don’t go far before entering a smaller treatment room.
On a large table, several strange objects are laid out—some look like oversized gloves, others like very tall socks…
“Put on this long glove up to your elbow,” Bianca says. “Then I’ll numb your arm—the reconstruction process can be painful. It should be quick, though… your injuries are superficial.” She pulls out an injector pen and gives me a dose.
My arm quickly goes numb, and a small light on the back of the glove turns on, indicating that the regeneration process has started. There’s nothing I can do now but wait.
“Can I wait next to Pherebos?” I ask.
