Free Beyond Varallan by S. L. Viehl

The Senior Healer’s sharp voice cut off the Omorr's sneering. “Shut up.”
    I managed—only just—not to applaud.
    “I will transfer the data personally,” Reever said.
    “Good idea,” I said, knowing Reever had the expertise to handle the task. “Did the NessNevat tell you what the city’s population level was before the attack?”
    “Several hundred thousand,” Reever replied.
    “Not so good.” I looked around and made a swift estimate. “There are only about five hundred here. Where are the others?”
    “These represent the only survivors on the planet.”
    Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at Reever. Even Squilyp, which ruined his grand thumping exit.
    “This is all that remain?” Squilyp’s gildrells arched in surprise. “The trader indicated—”
    “The trader was wrong,” Reever interrupted him. “The native population has been exterminated.”
    “How can you be so sure?” I wanted to know.
    “I have seen such assaults in the past. All of the colonists were herded to this immediate area, then systematically massacred.”
    “That’s preposterous!” Tonetka said. “Anyone knows that raiders only take what they can trade!”
    “This wasn’t a raid,” he replied. “It was an assault by the Hsktskt Faction.”
    Four hours later, as I was preparing for my eleventh surgical case, the Jorenian database finally accepted the NessNevat linguistic download. We knew because our vocollars began translating the sounds our patients were making into words.
    Under my hands, the adolescent with severe cranial fractures got particularly eloquent.
    “Mother… Mother… take me back… to your… womb… End… this… Mother… do not… leave… me…”
    “I liked the growling better,” I muttered under my mask. The nurse next to me repositioned the instrument tray so she could stroke a gentle gloved hand over the boy’s furry brow.
    “I am here,” she lied to him. He couldn’t understand her, but the sound of her soft voice calmed him. “I will make the pain go away.”
    My thought exactly. “Put him under.”
    Squilyp and the other surgical resident were set up a few meters away from us. Engineering had installed remote generators which created two large sterile fields and powered the portable laser rigs. Through the containment static, I heard the Omorr swear now and then. Tonetka appeared regularly, monitoring both of us. A nurse told me the Senior Healer was coordinating all the relief efforts while simultaneously treating the minor surgical cases.
    I had refused her offer to replace me and only requested the nurses be rotated every five cases. I told Squilyp to do the same, which he didn’t like. He had an unpleasant tendency to view nurses the same way he did a lascalpel: You only replaced it when it couldn't function any longer.
    The NessNevats’ voices drifted from the open area beyond our temporary surgery, mourning the dead, crying out from pain. I knew many would die. Tonetka, Squilyp, and I were the only surgeons, and there were simply too many critical cases.
    Reever’s cool voice kept echoing inside my head. This wasn’t a raid. It was an assault by the Hsktskt Faction .
    That kept me cutting as fast as my hands could move.
    Hours crawled by. I worked. Nurses came and went like the patients. I learned the rather limited extent of the Omorr’s repertoire of curses. Sweat made my gear cling to every inch of my skin. The lascalpel hissed. The odor of singed fur and cauterized tissue filled my head.
    The same stench the Hsktskt had smelted, as they fired upon the colonists.
    Much later, after I’d finished closing the center incision on a NessNevat with internal injuries, the Senior Healer appeared. I noticed her standing across the table from me in a fresh mask and gloves. Over my shoulder, I saw Squilyp and the other resident were already gone.
    I pulled the laser up and out of the way. “Checking up on my work, boss?”
    Her white eyes were tired, her