Humans are weird: Medics
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Mula didnât feel the pain at first. He had felt a sharp pinch just above his right leg during the charge across the street but he had ignored it. He had made it about half way across the paved road dodging incoming fire when his entire leg lost all feeling and he tumbled to the ground hard.
Through blurry eyes he saw the rest of his squad continuing to the building opposite the street which had been their target. He saw several of them torn to shreds by plasma fire erupting from nearly every window and yet his squad continued their attack with grim determination.
Mula made to stand and rejoin his comrades in this glorious charge. He made to use his right hand to brace himself and rise once more only to collapse again to the hard ground. Angrily Mula looked at what had stopped him and it was then that it finally dawned on him that his entire right arm up to the third elbow was missing.
He looked at the stump of his arm dumb founded. He could see it was clearly gone, but it felt as if it was still there all the same. Like a dark joke he could even still feel his absent fingers opening and closing despite their remains being scattered several feet away.
More of his brothers were charging across the street around him. They were being cut down like wheat before the scythe and yet they still shouted their battle cries and stormed across their dead.
This was the moment heroes are made.
This was the moment legends were born.
Mula the One Hand, they would call him.
Throughout his entire life Mula had been taught that to die on the battlefield was the greatest honor. His soul would be welcomed into the hallowed halls of Jem Hadâa where he would fight eternal with the greatest warriors his people had ever known.
Determined to meet his end with the dignity of a true warrior of the, Mula braced himself on his left arm and made to stand once more. He had nearly risen back to his full height when he felt something grab him from behind and pull him hard.
âGet down you stupid fucker!â
Before Mula knew what was going on he was being dragged backwards. He saw his unresponsive leg limply being dragged before him as he was taken further and further away from the target building. His brothers were still rushing passed him as he was being pulled away as Mula strained his neck turning to see what had grabbed him.
To his surprise it was a human warrior. They wore strange armor adorned with a red cross but carried no weapon. Despite their somewhat frail state they were dragging Mula back to their own lines as the battle raged around them.
While the war had originally been between Mulaâs people and the Fentom Alliance it had eventually spilled out into neighboring sectors as the war progressed. Humanity occupied several sectors along the front and had been content to remain neutral in the conflict until Fentom ships began raiding human shipping lanes for supplies. After that humanity sent in several fleets and ground armies to assist Mulaâs people bring the conflict to an end.
âLet go of me!â Mula shouted at the human. When they continued to pull Mula away from the battle he began struggling in their grasp. The human became further agitated by this and swatted Mula across the face.
âHey idiot, if you have a death wish keep me the hell out of it!â they shouted as a rocket exploded nearby showering the pair of them in rubble. The human let go of Mula as a result and he was able to scramble back to his one working foot.
He rejoined the charge across the street, limping on his one good leg and holding his Tatava dagger in his left hand. He made it several steps before he was tackled back to the ground.
âWhat the hell are you doing!?â
Mula rolled on to his back and saw that it was the same human again.
âLeave me be!â Mula shouted as he tried to dislodge with several sharp kicks. âMy destiny awaits me!â
When the kicking did not release them Mula had no other recourse but to swing his Tatava dagger at them. He had judged the distance to not harm them, but close enough to scare them into letting go.
Sure enough as soon as the blade neared the humans face they released him and shuffled backwards. Now free Mula made to stand but was interrupted by the human.
âI hate angry patients.â
Mula looked up just in time to see the humanâs fist smashing into their face. The pain sent Mula crumbling back to the ground, his dagger clattering to the ground unceremoniously. The human stood over Mula and he thought that another blow was surely about to fall, but was surprised when instead they began treating his wounds.
âIf I try moving you again youâll bleed out before we make it back.â They said as they started wrapping the stump of what had been his right arm several minutes prior.
âYou are keeping meâŠ.from my destiny!â Mula said. He had intended to shout it to scare off the human, but found that his voice had become very weak. Now that he had stopped moving he noticed everything about him had become weaker. His muscles struggled to move the way he wanted, his vision was going in and out of focus as he tried to look at the human, even his fingers had started trembling each time he tried to make a fist.
âIf it was to die on this shitty dirt ball I have some bad news for you.â Mula saw a half smile flash across the humanâs face before a burst of plasma fire flew overhead and she bent over his body to avoid it.
âYou wouldâŠâ Mula began as they returned to fixing his wounds, âdishonor me?â
The human shook their head in frustration as they finished with his arm and moved on to bandaging his leg. Mula noticed his armor had become far more stained with his blood than he had realized when he looked down at it. No doubt that was why he was feeling weaker by the moment.
âIf you were truly meant to die this day,â the human said as they aggressively sealed the leg wounds, âdo you really think your gods would let one little human stand in the way of a destiny they laid out for you?â
Mula wanted to respond but was struck by the humanâs words. In his silence the human finished treating his wounds and waved over another pair of human soldiers.
âYou will live to fight another day soldier.â
With those last words Mula felt himself being carried off again as the world started fading to black. The last sight he saw before it consumed him was that of the human who had treated him rushing off to tend to another fallen warrior. âââââââââ
The history books of Mulaâs people would indeed speak of his name and deeds.
They recorded how after the battle he had been taken to an orbital hospital ship that had come with the human fleets. How he had been given new prosthetic limbs and had initially been shunned and mocked for surviving the battle by his fellow warriors.
It also tells how Mula endured all of the humiliation thrust upon him by remembering the last words the human who had saved his life had said to him.
âYou will live to fight another dayâŠ..â
No longer was Mula seeking out his glorious death on the battlefield. He lived to fight another day, and then another, and another, and another, and so on.
Mula survived over three hundred battles fought over the span of sixty years. He was the one who drove his Tatava dagger into the heart of Overlord Jih inside his own citadel, he would be the first to breach the walls of the crystal city of Hama Zure, and he would be the one single handedly hold the line at the battle of Black Field.
In his life he earned more glory living then he ever could have won by dying in that nameless street so many years ago. His name was spoken of in reverence and his deeds carved into the eternal stone of honor for all to see.
Near the end of his life he wished to thank the human who had saved him all those years ago. So he set out and using what contacts he had acquired sought out his savior.
He search led him to the fields of honored dead on the human homeworld.
The human who had saved him was called âKayley Gillevetâ, and she had died the very same day that they had met.
From what Mula was able to find out was that Kayley had continued saving those she could during the closing hours of the battle and became separated from the allied forces. She gathered those she could into a housing building and tried her best to stabilize them. The enemy forces thought that they were still active combatants and leveled the building rather than attempting to storm it.
Looking down at this tiny piece of stone with her name carved into it Mula couldnât help but feel sadness.
Here had been a warrior who had stormed the fields of death not to take life, but to save it; and this was all that left to remember her while his name was taught to his peopleâs children in schools. Her name carved into a weathered stone barely legible anymore.
He placed his prosthetic hand on Kayleyâs stone and spoke softly.
âI did what you asked.â He said as tears began to run down his face. âI lived to fight another day.â
