Page 101 of Stars in Umbra
Rina didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her bag, jacket, and comm tab, and bolted toward the exit.
‘Block my calendar for the day!’ she shouted over her shoulder.
‘Commander, wait!’ Voss called after her, startled.
But she was already gone.
Her boots hit the corridor, fast and loud. Her mind was spinning, her pulse thundering.
Mo.
He was alive, but he’d fallen from the sky.
How and what the fokk?
New Rambasa General rose above the city’s heart, a steel-and-glass testament to Dunian efficiency and austerity.
Above it, medevac flyers cut through the skyline, heading towards rooftop bays.
The lobby was a sea of movement, civilian patients, soldier aides, holo-reporters swarming the front screens that looped the footage again and again: a man plummeting from the sky and crashing into the middle of a public avenue.
Rina’s breath hitched as she reached the intake desk, where a young nurse was focused on her screen and ignored her.
Annoyed, Rina slammed her credentials down.
‘Military override. Commander Rina Mendi. Clearance Alpha. I need access to the individual who fell from the sky and who has just been brought here. Where can I find him?’
The officer paused, hesitating only long enough to glance at the badge before nodding her through. ‘He’s in Ward 43, Bed 12B.’
Rina didn’t wait for more.
She moved past the queue, into the lifts, her thoughts churning as she fought to keep her composure.
The ride up was claustrophobic; the walls were too bright, and her reflection in the polished chrome was too pale. Her chest constricted, her lungs tight, as if something unseen was bearing down on her ribs.
When the doors to the critical care clinic opened, the sound of hushed voices and beeping monitors met her like a wall.
She stepped into the corridor, rushed into the unit, and came to a stop at Bed 12B.
There he was.
He lay unconscious on a hover bed in the center of a private treatment bay.
He was naked to the waist, his body draped in translucent mesh and lined with glowing lattice bands of regenerative gel.
Vitals pulsed erratically on the holo-screen beside him, frequencies too high, rates too fast.
An energy inside him was burning at a different cadence than usual.
His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, the movements shallow. A circle of doctors stood nearby, reviewing data, murmuring in clinical tones tinged with confusion.
Rina took an inhale and approached the bed, until a tall physician with copper-toned skin and close-cut curls moved to intercept her, blocking her path with a lifted hand.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am. This section is restricted.’
Rina didn’t slow. ‘Commander Mendi, Dunian Military HQ. Let me through.’
The doctor raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you a relative?’
