Revenge Part 8

Renswick fell with a wound in his neck the size of a tennis ball. Blood gushed out of the hole either side of his throat and he choked on his own blood as he sank into the sand.
Thomson moved to Emi. He holstered his pistol as he crouched next to her. His right hand started putting pressure on her gunshot in an attempt to stop the bleeding, though crimson liquid still flooded between his fingers in a never ending stream.
Her only chance was to get to the Falcon. It appeared the round had hit something in Quarian anatomy similar to a major artery. He knew that the wound wouldn't stop leaking blood until she had no more left.
A third missile struck the Reaper, knocking it on to its back. Thomson lifted Emi up into his arms, grimacing from the effort in account for his injury. He began running as fast as possible up the side of the sand bowl. There was no time to lose.

[Indoctrination Complete]
Revenge stood up with a large hole in his neck.
"Weakling," he grunted, as the wound healed over.
He made his more metallic form get to its feet and try to fire a beam of energy, but once again a missile struck him.
He turned his head to see two figures running up the side of the hill.
Revenge waved his hand and they were sent rolling back down. There were cries of pain from both of them.
"You cannot win," said Revenge to the fallen human, "We are eternal. We survive no matter what."
"Survive this, bitch," growled the human, drawing a pistol faster than even Revenge could see. There was a silenced gunshot, straight between the eyes.
Revenge exited the body.

Thomson pulled Emi into his arms and lifted her up again, supporting most of her weight with his right arm. He climbed the hill again, this time pushing his body to its very limit.
By the time he was at the top, he was aching everywhere and felt like he was close to collapsing.
"Bei!" he shouted, "I need some help!"
"... I love you," Emi said softly. Her glowing eyes were starting to dim.
"No no no no no," Thomson cried, "Stay with me... Please..."
"I... Love... You... I love you..." she whispered.
Her body went limp as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Bei appeared next to them, "Oh keelah..." she said, "We need to get her to the Falcon."
"But that's ages away..."
There was a groaning noise from the Reaper. It set a beam of energy at them that carved across the sand. Thomson couldn't see what happened to Srateris. But the beam was getting closer and closer.
He started running with Emi in his arms, in an attempt to move out of the way. But the beam just followed them. Bei was in front of him, as she was able to move faster without anything to carry.
He started to feel the wave of heat through his armour. It would be upon them in a few seconds...
A large ship swooped overhead. Same class as the Falcon, though this one was mainly white with a black and blue stripe. It flew over the Reaper, distracting it from its energy beam.
Then the Alliance Frigate shot it repeatedly with its cannons. Explosions tore up the Reaper's armoured shell. The light dimmed in its glowing orb and it hit the ground a moment later. It kicked up a large plume of sand that scattered into the air.
Thomson got a glance at the name down the side of the ship. The Normandy SR-2.
The legendary vessel landed in front of them. Sand was thrown into the air by the powerful engines as it hovered a few metres above the ground. The ship was making a loud whispering noise as it struggled to remain in a single place.
The cargo ramp at the rear of the Frigate lowered with a whir and a single figure walked to the edge.
"Hello," the armoured man called, shouting above the engines, "Need any help?"
"She needs to get to the med bay," said Thomson, "Now."
Commander Shepard nodded in response, gesturing for them to come on board. Emi's breathing was becoming shallower and her pulse was becoming weaker. The front of Thomson's armour was coated in her blood.
He didn't hesitate. He climbed up the cargo ramp and boarded the vessel.
"We need a med team!" shouted Shepard, "Get the doctors down here now!"
Shepard nodded at his injured shoulder, "Do you need medigel?"
Thomson shook his head, "Not until she is fine."
A crew of six people who all wore red and white lab coats ran from the elevator at the rear of the shuttle bay. Between them they held a stretcher.
Thomson lifted Emi up on to the stretcher and followed the med team as they ran back towards the lift.
One of the doctors checked her pulse and sighed, "It isn't looking good. She's lost a lot of blood. Her heart rate is slowing."
"We need a trauma kit, some medigel, a heart monitor and some immune system boosters ASAP," answered another doctor as the elevator activated. It took a few seconds for it to go up a floor.
She was carried along a corridor and through a heavy, metal, circular door. The medical bay was predominantly white in colour and lab equipment was dotted around the room.
As soon as they set the stretcher on to a table, they cleaned the wound with some antiseptic, then put medigel inside and out of the hole.
They injected Emi with drugs meant to boost her immune system, so they could successfully take off the leg part of her suit. They used a specially designed port on a Quarian's right wrist, where it had a small adaptive hole meant for needles. It was closed permanently, though a syringe could get through. It did form a seal around the edge, however, to reduce the risk of contamination.
Two doctors began to unfastened the straps and buckles on her suit, whilst the others checked datapads that showed her vital statistics. Their faces weren't happy.
Thomson looked down at Emi in a state of complete worry. His chest was aching in sadness.
"Please don't die," he whispered to her, "For the love of god, don't die... I can't live without you..."
As the doctors peeled away her tight suit, the wound was revealed. You could see right the way through to the stretcher underneath, and yet it still leaked blood. A pool was forming on the table beneath her.
There was a gentle pulsing as the doctors attached a heart monitor to her. It was getting slower and slower by the moment.
A doctor applied medigel to a long bandage and strapped it around her leg.
"She's very weak," a doctor said to Thomson, "We don't know whether she'll pull through. If she does, she might be completely fine. But then again there's always the possibility that we'll have to amputate her leg. But we don't know enough about Quarians to know whether her body will be able to stand up to the stress of surgery."
"Just please do what you can..." Thomson said.
Commander Shepard walked into the med bay. He still wore his N7 armour - he was the same grade as Thomson. Not bad.
"Do you have a Quarian on board?" Thomson asked him, "The doctors know nothing about them... They're not really sure what they can and can't do."
Shepard nodded, "We have one. I'll go and use the intercom. I'll be back in a moment."
Emi's heart rate slowed. There was only a gentle pulse of sound once every few moments.
"Please, please, please, please, please..." Thomson said to her, "You'll be fine. You have to be..."
A long beep signalled that her heart had stopped.
"Cardiac arrest!" yelled one of the doctors, scrambling for a portable defibrillator. Thomson was ushered out of the room.
"Emi!" he cried, trying to push his way through - but to no avail. The doctors shut the door of the med bay. The last thing Thomson heard before the door hissed shut was the high pitched whine of the defibrillator charging up.