Page 5 of Alien Healer's Touch

"Thirty-six hours from first reported fever," Hammond answered before anyone else could. "The veining manifested approximately twelve hours after initial symptoms."

I frowned. "You've tracked this meticulously."

"This represents a potential security threat, Doctor." His voice hardened. "I monitor all threats to this colony."

Dr. Frakes approached, datapad in hand, his face gaunt with exhaustion.

"Temperature holding at 103.8," he reported. "Unresponsive to standard antipyretics."

"What treatments have you tried?" I asked, retrieving diagnostic tools from my pack.

"Everything available. Broad-spectrum antibiotics, antivirals, anti-inflammatories. Nothing affects it."

I pulled out a small vial of blue liquid. "This might reduce the fever at least."

Hammond seized my wrist. "What is that?"

"A tincture from a local plant with antipyretic properties." I met his gaze directly. "Unless you prefer watching your people cook from the inside out."

"Something from your alien friends?" His fingers tightened.

"Yes. And it might save this woman's life." I didn't flinch. "Your choice, Commander."

After a tense moment, he released me. "Proceed. Document everything." His eyes tracked every movement as I administered the medicine.

For three hours, I moved from patient to patient with Hammond shadowing me like a persistent shadow. The symptoms remained consistent—high fever, blue veining spreading from extremities inward, progressive neurological deterioration. Some patients raved in delirium, others lay in coma-like states.

Dr. Frakes worked alongside me, his initial skepticism gradually yielding to desperate cooperation as I shared what remedies I could.

"These compounds," he murmured as we examined slides under a microscope. "I've never encountered anything similar."

"They come from native plants," I explained quietly. "The Nyxari have used them medicinally for generations."

And they came from him. The memory of his voice, steady and patient as he walked me through each preparation, felt like a tether keeping me grounded while the rest of this world spun out.

"The aliens taught you this?"

"We've been collaborating." I glanced over my shoulder. Hammond stood several feet away, deep in conversation with security. "They understand this planet's biology in ways we can't."

Frakes's expression closed. "Hammond won't approve."

"Hammond's approval matters less than saving lives," I replied sharply.

Around midday, I noticed Frakes collecting patient samples—blood, tissue, even scrapings of the blue veining.

"What's that for?" I asked during Hammond's brief absence.

Frakes shifted uncomfortably. "Commander's orders. He wants to determine if this is... deliberate."

"Deliberate?"

"Biological warfare," Frakes whispered. "He suspects the Nyxari engineered this."

I nearly dropped my vial. "That's absurd."

"Is it?" His gaze flickered to my covered wrists. "They've already altered some of our people."

Hammond's return cut our conversation short.

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