Chapter Text
She's used to the alarms by now. There's barely a day goes by without a klaxon sounding, whether it's their alarms or the city's. She steps to the side of the corridor as soldiers start to stream towards the gate room.
She's surprised when Captain Rodriguez grabs her arm and pulls her along towards the puddlejumper bay.
"What -" starts Janel.
"We need a medic."
Maybe she's not as familiar with the alarms as she thought. She hadn't realised there was a problem within the city. She follows willingly, stopping only to grab one of the medical kits they keep at the entrance to the jumper bay.
Then she realises that there are no wounded in the bay. Realises where the captain is taking her.
Janel stops dead in her tracks. "I can't."
The captain whirls on her, face grim. "We need a medic, now. We need to leave, now." She pulls Janel up into the jumper,
"I -"
"Don't want to hear it." The captain pushes her down onto the bench along the inside of the jumper. "Sit down, shut your eyes, take deep breaths or whatever the hell. We're going."
Janel stares at Captain Rodriguez as she presses past the half dozen soldiers in the rear of the jumper. She sees the captain's teammates Wright and Collins, but not their scientist. As the captain sits, Janel closes her eyes.
"This is Jumper Nine," she hears the captain say. "We're ready. Clear the gate room."
~
As the jumper drops into the gate room, Mark moves back 'til he's standing beside the medic. He's about to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder when her eyes snap open, and she glares at him.
He raises his hands placatingly instead. "We needed a medic."
She's about to snap a reply when the jumper starts through the wormhole, and she freezes, gripping her seat.
As he enters the wormhole, he's thinking that this is probably the dumbest thing he's ever seen the captain do.
On the other side, Janel gasps for breath.
"Son of a -" She stops again, and grabs at her kit. "Daughter of a wraith," she spits at the captain's back.
"Save it," says Rodriguez, and rattles off her orders to the Marines. "Collins, stay with her."
"Yessir." Janel turns her glare from the captain back to Mark, and he shrugs, before offering her a sidearm. She just grips the med kit tighter.
~
When they land, the captain doesn't even look at her as she pushes past to lead her men out of the jumper. Janel settles for scowling at Rodriguez' back and muttering curses under her breath.
It gives her something to focus on.
"I don't even know how many wounded there are," she snaps.
"Major Lorne was shot." says Collins at her side. "They were ambushed, fell back to a secure position. We haven't heard anything else."
She nods in reply, even though he's looking at the forest around them, not at her. His face is as grim and focused, now, as the captain's.
They move fast, and she stumbles a little over the unfamiliar ground. Collins hooks his arm under hers to keep her upright, but doesn't let her slow.
Before she can muster the sense to pull away from him, they reach the Major's team. She barely hears the captain's orders to her men, seeing only the injured man, but she hears the ragged 'Oh, Christ,' Rodriguez says when she joins Janel at the Major's side.
He's been shot in the chest, and Janel can see blood still flowing, despite the field dressing his teammate has pressed to the wound.
She drops down beside them, and eases the man's hand from the bandage. She can feel the tremors running through him. "How long?"
"A - an hour," he replies, as Janel rips open the med kit. "He - I - I don't know what happened. There wasn't supposed to be anyone here. Anna -"
"It's okay, David. He's gonna be fine," The softness of the captain's tone takes Janel aback. "We'll be out of here in no time. Wright!" Rodriguez calls out abruptly. "Get Dr Parrish back to the jumper, get it ready to fly -"
"Yessir."
"I can't -" says Dr Parrish, his hand grasping helplessly at the Major's shoulder.
"We will be right behind you, David, okay? Look at me -" Rodriguez pulls him upright. "He'll be fine, and you know he'd tell you to get to safety."
"I -"
"Go," says the Major, hoarsely. Janel curses their too-careful medication, because he shouldn't be awake through this, but it makes the scientist nod and follow Wright.
Rodriguez hunkers down next to them once more. "I wasn't lying, right?" she says softly.
Janel doesn't look at her, but shakes her head. "No. But we need to move fast." She can't afford to lessen the pressure on the Major's wound, so she uses her free hand to push the med kit's lightweight stretcher at Collins. "Here. Get this ready." He nods, and lets his weapon drop to take the stretcher.
She doesn't see their attackers approach - she only sees the way the Marines react. Too late.
Weaponless, Collins growls as he holds the half-constructed stretcher like a club, but he's already surrounded, and he drops it reluctantly.
"What -" says the Major, struggling to see, and she hushes him, and looks for the captain, cursing under her breath.
~
Mark watches the captain let her weapon drop, too slowly. She tries to stand in front of Major Lorne, but one of their attackers pushes her aside, thrusting his weapon into Janel's face. "Hands. Up"
Janel doesn't even look up at him, still tending Lorne's injury, trying to stem the flow of blood (it shouldn't look so red, thinks Mark. Not when he's so pale).
"I am medicat," says Janel.
The mercenary taps the side of Janel's head with the barrel of his gun. Now Janel looks at him, her expression dark. She doesn't put her hands up.
"He's dead. Get up."
"He's not dead. He's dying. Until he's dead, I do my work."
The mercenary shifts, points his weapon at Lorne, and Mark sees, with sick realisation, that Lorne's injury isn't enough to stop him following what's going on, because the Major's eyes widen in fear.
He daren't move. Too many guns on them, too little space holding too many soldiers on both sides.
"You kill him, you're all dead," says Janel.
The mercenary smirks, and turns the weapon back on Janel, who doesn't even blink. "That a threat? Medicat?"
"That a fact, conducat. You think you'll ransome us? The Black Colonel doesn't pay for bodies. He pays blood for blood. You kill this man, you're all dead."
The man threatening Janel takes a step back when she says 'Black Colonel', but their leader scoffs.
"Black Colonel's a child's story, medicat."
"He's no story. I've looked in the man's eyes, and believe me, I would not want to be his enemy."
"You're lying, medicat."
"I'm not lying. You see this?" Janel tips her head to expose her neck, and taps two fingers to her tattoo, leaving a bloody mark. There's a murmur from the mercenaries. "I come from a dead planet. I know death. And I know that if you cross the Black Colonel, you will die."
~
She has no way to know how credulous they are. The 'Black Colonel' doesn't scare their leader - chances are they're in the pay of the Genii, and know more about the city than she did. But her tattoo -
It gives him pause, at least. He steps up to her, and she can feel Rodriguez and Collins tense as he gets closer to the Major.
"Five Towns, medicat?" He grins at her when she doesn't respond. "Care to make a wager?"
"What odds do you offer?"
"Oh, I don't know, medicat. What would you say the odds are the Black Colonel will find us, if'n we kill you all?"
She tries not flinch as he presses his weapon against her cheek.
"Hey, asshole," says Rodriguez, and the mercenary's trained his weapon on the captain before he even turns to look at her. "I'd say the odds are pretty good."