his feelings about the regulations, he had no choice but to abide when it came to finding a mate. He had a duty to breed the next generation of Sky Corps pilots, just as his father and his father before him had. Nevertheless, he treated her no differently than he would any woman. While in his care, she would have his protection and respect.
He watched her shift her weight from one bare foot to the other. Her soles and heels were raw and blistered, and he was sure she was in a great deal of pain. She rubbed her wrists, running her fingertips over the bruises blooming there. He recognized the slump of her shoulders and the sag of her eyelids. He tensed with anticipation, certain she was going to fall over at any moment.
They were still two floors away from their destination when she finally crumpled. He caught her easily and swung her up into his arms. She didn’t even try to fight him off or protest. She sagged against his chest and whimpered like a dying kitten. The sound made his heart ache, and he hoped that the admiral’s plan to get this girl off the ship and away from the overzealous reach of the Shadow Force worked. She didn’t deserve any of this.
When he stepped into the private entrance of the med bay, Risk and the guards Noble had requested were waiting for him. Risk took one look at the nearly unconscious woman in his arms and scowled. “Are they trying to kill her? Fucking Savage,” Risk growled and carefully took Maisie from his arms. “He should be whipped for this.”
“You’ll have to take that up with Orion,” Noble said as he followed Risk into the exam room where a medic stood ready to begin treatment. He paused in the doorway and glanced at the two guards. “No one in or out.”
“Yes, sir,” both men replied in unison.
Noble closed the door behind him and tapped the window frame to activate the privacy glass setting. He moved closer to the exam table where Maisie seemed to be fighting to stay awake. “How bad is she?”
“Dehydration. Malnutrition. Exhaustion.” Risk ticked off diagnoses. He barked orders at the medic who was taking her blood about starting an IV and giving a list of medications and infusions. “Add a full parasite and virus panel to her blood work. She’s been living in prisons so there’s no telling what she was exposed to while she was being held.”
“On it, sir.”
Risk spoke gently to Maisie, making sure his words were carefully chosen and enunciated clearly. “We are giving you some fluids and some nutrition via IV. I’m going to treat your wounds and give you a full-spectrum antibiotic and antiviral cocktail. Once your blood work is back, I’ll adjust your treatment.”
She nodded and then touched her fingers to just below her mouth and brought them forward. She mouthed, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Risk retrieved a capped syringe from the pocket of his lab coat and injected the fluid inside it into the port of her newly placed IV. “Now—close your eyes and rest. You’re going to need it.”
She obeyed without argument, seemingly depleted of all energy reserves as the medication flooded her bloodstream. Noble watched Risk and the medic treat the woman who had kept Terror alive during his captivity. She was a fighter, for sure. If she was going to make it off this ship alive, she needed to be scrappy.
Risk sent the medic out with the blood samples. When the door was closed, he said, “We’re safe in here. It’s our women’s emergency exam room so I made sure to stick my head up in the vents and pulled out all the lights and ceiling tiles myself to check for bugs.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish. I kept getting interference with monitoring equipment when Terror was admitted after his rescue. I started poking around and found some Shadow Force bugs in his room. I’ve been paranoid ever since.”
Noble let out a disgusted sigh. “We complained about Terror’s tactics, but he never had us looking over our shoulders or paranoid about listening devices in our bathrooms and bedrooms.”
“Makes you wonder if Terror’s crash was an accident,” Risk muttered.
“You aren’t the only one who wonders about that,” Noble assured him. Glancing at Maisie’s sleeping face, he asked, “Is she going to be strong enough to make the trip?”
“Does it matter?”
“No,” Noble admitted. “She’s going in that box whether she’s ready or not.”