#mikhala

Ships had been dispatched against the Orca, too.  One was on fire and the other was signaling, “Distress!  Taking water!”

Now, the Secret Fleet discovered sails closing in from east and west as well.  The Grandalor and the Orca were to the south and the now deadly coral of Morgan’s Reef, nearly exposed by the Dragon Tide, was a line of treacherous breakers and foam to the north.  There was no visible escape from the death trap of swirling currents, raging surf and unyielding stone.

Several of the trapped ships raised white flags.  The Ugine and a few others promptly opened fire on them with their War catapults.  One of them fired back at the Ugine, holing her hull at the waterline.  The Ugine tried to flee north, aiming for a narrow safe passage through the reef.

The Ugine was well into the reef passage and looked to be getting away.  Out of the blue, literally, a number of Sea Hawks dove down and struck at the helmsman and any other exposed personnel with claws and beaks.  Deprived of control, the Ugine ran hard aground on the rock of the reef.  With none to keep order, panic developed and people began to abandon ship frantically.  The untended sails caught the wind and dragged the ship over onto her side.  Survivors clung to the capsized hulk of the Secret Fleet’s once proud flagship.

Mikhala, watching the attack, felt a stirring in her heart.  She was unsure how she knew it but the big, dangerous birds had been defending something precious to them. Looking about, she could not see the seaweed mat that would house a rookery.

Seemingly satisfied, the Wide Wings soared away.  Several of them peeled off from the main flock and flew south to perch in their nests in the topmasts of the Grandalor.

Deprived of their leader, the rest of the Secret Fleet now surrendered.  The captured ships were set to the tasks of rescue and salvage first.  Next, they were deprived of sails and held at anchorage while the balance of the Naral fleet was recalled for the first Emergency Gathering in its history.

In the days that followed, in spite of being at the center of the storm, Mikhala was spending every waking moment that she could be spared, down in sickbay.  Kenner Morgan had been on the Damage Control team in the compartment that was holed by the missile from the Carsis Rising.  At first the wounds had seemed slight.  Small fragments of glued Strong Skin had been driven into his arm and chest.  Severe immune reactions were beginning to develop around the alien proteins.

In the background they could overhear Doctor Corin in the next bunk bay expostulating, “Joram, I know that its only a tiny abcess!  It’s not the size that’s important.  It’s where it is.  It’s next to the carotid artery in your neck!  That abscess needs to be drained now!  It can eat through the artery wall and kill you in minutes or less.”

They heard Joram’s mulish, “I feel fine.  The thing only itches a little!  Less than an aero-plankton nibble.  I’ll be fine by tomorrow.  You’ll see!”

Mikhala looked down at Kenner and then up to Kurin.  Fearfully she said, “Joram only has one little boil.  Kenner has maybe a dozen.  If they are so worried about Joram, what are my Kenner’s chances?”

Kurin, who often assisted Doctor Corin, was trying to reassure Mikhala.  “I know that it looks bad. He will likely be on the invalid list for several weeks.  This problem happens in the boat shops fairly often, though rarely with this many splinters.  We should pull him through without much trouble.”

Mikhala looked at Kurin and said softly, “For the love of all Dragons, I hope so.  I’m just so afraid to lose him.  Finding him and this ship are the first good things that ever happened to me.  Don’t let the Dark Dragon take him, please.”

Kenner looked up from his bunk and said weakly, “Don’t fret, Love of Mine.  We stopped the Konning Captain dead in his wake, before he and his minions could do much harm.”

“They’ve hurt you, My Love. They have done too much already.”

While Kenner and Mikhala were speaking, Kurin turned to Doctor Corin and said softly, “I know that we usually just let the body absorb these fragments, Doctor. Perhaps we should drain these abscesses in his chest and see if we can get the shards out.  I think that they are probably larger than the usual shop slivers.  I’m not comfortable with how weak he is.”

Doctor Corin’s response was to check Kenner’s pulse, respiration, eye tracking and pupil response. He nodded gravely and asked, “Kenner, will you let me drain these abscesses?  We need to probe and remove the bits that are causing them.”

Mikhala drew a breath in fear but said, “Please, Love, let them try.  I’m scared that if you don’t, the Orca Whales will sing you to Dark Iren.”

Kenner took her hand and she was frightened by the weakness in his grip.  He said, “If I know one thing, I know that they will do their best for me.  Tell them to do it.”

Kurin had already got out a surgical kit.  She turned to Mikhala and said kindly, “We need you to wait outside while we do this.  We have to have a sterile area. It will take some time to prepare and then the draining and probing will take more time.  Give us an hour and a half, at least.  Go to the mess or up on deck to wait.  We will send for you as soon as we are done.  Tell the Lady that I have asked that you be excused from any duty until Kenner is well.”

They politely shooed Mikhala out and began preparations.  As Kurin had predicted, it was a lengthy procedure.  Things got complicated quickly.  First, one abscess proved to be larger than it appeared.  The sliver was narrow and long.  Removing it was a delicate job because the pus had corroded it into two pieces and the second part was deeply buried.

Another was nearly through the muscle of the chest wall.  Besides the clean pus of the immune response, there was the stench and green goo of an infection.  If it had burst to the lung it would surely have been fatal.  

As each abscess was drained, it needed to be washed clean with precisely diluted Hag venom to anesthetize, wash and sterilize the wound.  They were working carefully on a simple abscess when Mikka, the Doctor’s other assistant, touched his sleeve.

She whispered, “It’s Joram, Doctor.  He doesn’t feel well and a large bulge has developed under his abscess.”

“Dragons eat him!” Doctor Corin swore under his breath.  More clearly, he asked, “Kurin, can you continue with Kenner?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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