Page 78 of Rogue Starfighter

“Minor.”

“The bond says your arm is broken, you're in extreme pain and you’re losing blood.”

“Relatively minor.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I'll allow it, as long as you kiss me first.”

“Shut up and hold still.”

“I am in a dead ship. I can't move.”

The recovery scout fired two magnetic lines into the Wraith’s hull. They caught. Thrusters pulled the ships together until Priya could extend a flexible docking collar around the emergency hatch. The collar sealed. She tried the hatch release. Nothing.

“It’s fused,” I said.

“I know.”

“The manual explosive bolts may still⁠—”

The outer hatch glowed red.

“Priya?”

“Cutting through. Move away from the door.”

Metal screamed. The center of the hatch fell inward. Priya climbed through wearing a pressure suit and carrying a thermal cutter. The helmet hid her face until she closed the inner collar and pressurized it. Then the visor opened. Furious. Terrified. Beautiful. She threw the cutter aside and crawled to me.

Her hands moved over my face, throat, chest, checking injuries. She found the burn along my side and went pale.

“Minor?”

“I've had worse.”

She pulled an emergency injector from her suit and pressed it against my neck. Pain dulled immediately.

“What was that?”

“Something the medic gave me after I threatened him.”

“You threatened a medical officer?”

“I’ve had a busy morning.”

I laughed as Priya cut my harness free and secured my broken arm against my chest.

“This will hurt,” she said.

“I am aware.”

“No, you’re brave and stupid. I need you to understand that moving you is going to hurt.”

“I trust you.”

Her eyes met mine. “You are not dying on me today, Vesh. That's an order.”

She looped a rescue strap around my torso and pulled me out of the pilot’s seat. Pain broke through the medication. My vision narrowed. Priya braced my weight against her body and dragged me toward the hatch.