Chapter 17: The Battle Continues.
The medical tent buzzed with urgency as more injured Sentinel and ADF members were brought in, their groans of pain mixing with the frantic movements of medics. Ava lay amidst the chaos, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, struggling to cling to consciousness. The sounds of battle beyond the tent were a constant reminder of the fight that still raged on, each explosion a dull thud in her hazy mind.
Ava summoned her remaining strength, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Finish this. They need you." Her eyes, glazed with pain, searched for Talon.
Talon knelt beside her, his face etched with fear and determination. "No, I'm not leaving you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. His usual calm, cocky demeanor had vanished, replaced by a desperation Ava had rarely seen in him.
Ava coughed, a sharp pain shooting through her chest, blood staining her lips. Her hand reached out weakly, gripping Talon’s arm. "Go," she urged, her voice strained but firm. "They need you more than I do right now."
The medic tending to her, their hands steady despite the chaos, intervened. "She's not out of danger yet," they said, pushing Talon aside with a gentle firmness. Ava’s breathing was shallow, her body battered and broken, but her eyes remained sharp, determined.
Ava glanced toward her sword, lying beside her on the makeshift table. She motioned toward it, a silent instruction. Talon understood immediately. He picked it up, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hands, his eyes glistening with tears he barely managed to hold back. Kneeling beside her once more, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice breaking as he whispered, "You better be here when I get back, Blondie."
The words hung in the air, fragile and uncertain. Talon’s grip tightened on her sword as if he could somehow channel his strength into her. Before leaving, he locked eyes with the medic, his tone filled with an unspoken plea. "Take care of her. Don’t let anything happen to her."
The medic nodded, their expression resolute. "She’s in good hands."
Talon hesitated for a moment longer, then stood, his heart heavy as he turned and left the tent. The weight of Ava’s sword in his hand felt both reassuring and crushing, a reminder of what was at stake.
Inside the tent, Ava fought to sit up, the strain evident on her face. But the medic gently pressed her back down. "Let us help, just this once," they murmured softly, their touch firm yet kind.
A faint smile ghosted across Ava’s lips before the pain forced her to lie back. Her mind was torn between the chaos of the battlefield outside and her helplessness inside the tent. Every distant explosion, every shout of pain, felt like an assault on her own spirit, knowing she couldn’t be there to fight alongside her team.
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Suddenly, the flap of the medical tent burst open, and two Sentinels dragged in a Reclaimer soldier, his face bloodied and his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. "We found him crawling away," one of the Sentinels growled, tossing the man to the ground.
Another Sentinel, guarding the tent, sneered, his rifle aimed at the Reclaimer’s chest. "We’re not helping him. He’s the enemy. Let him bleed out."
The Reclaimer soldier groaned, his face contorted in pain, fear flickering in his eyes as he realized his fate was in the hands of his captors. But before anyone could act, the medic, with a fierce look, shoved the Sentinel guard aside. "Move!" they snapped, kneeling beside the wounded Reclaimer.
The guard hesitated, anger flashing in his eyes. "Why waste time on him? He's not worth saving!"
The medic shot him a glare, their voice cold and resolute. "We help everyone. That’s what makes us Sentinels. If we start picking and choosing who deserves care, we’re no better than the Reclaimers and other wastelanders."
Silence fell over the tent as the medic’s words sank in. Reluctantly, the guard stepped back, his expression hardened but silent. The medic focused on the Reclaimer, her hands steady as they applied pressure to his wounds, their gaze unwavering.
Ava watched from her bed, her heart swelling with pride despite the pain coursing through her body. The actions of the medic reminded her of why they fought, of the values that set them apart from their enemies. But even with that knowledge, a heavy feeling of helplessness gnawed at Ava. As she lay there, unable to fight or stand beside her comrades, she felt like a part of herself was slipping away, the part that lived for the battle, for protecting those she cared about.
Her thoughts drifted to Talon. She could picture him out there, sword in hand, charging into the fray with the same reckless determination he always had. The fear of losing him, of not being there to protect him, twisted her insides. The medic’s words echoed in her mind: *We help everyone. That’s what makes us Sentinels.*
Ava closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sounds around her—the beeping of medical equipment, the shuffling of boots on the dirt floor, the distant roar of battle outside. But it was Talon’s voice that haunted her. His desperate plea for her to hold on, the look of raw fear in his eyes—it was a side of him she had never seen before, a side that made her realize how much they all depended on one another.
The medic worked swiftly on the Reclaimer soldier, cleaning and stitching his wounds with the same care they had shown Ava. Despite the chaos outside, despite the blood and death all around them, there was still a flicker of humanity that refused to die, even in the darkest of times.
Ava's body ached, every breath sending a wave of pain through her chest, but her mind was sharp, racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. She wasn't out of this fight yet, and neither were her friends. The battle may have raged on without her for now, but she knew she had to survive, not just for herself, but for them. For Talon. For Miko. For all the Sentinels who still believed in something worth fighting for.
As the medic finished treating the Reclaimer soldier, they glanced over at Ava, their expression softening. "You're friends are stronger than you think, Sentinel," they said quietly. "Don’t give up on them yet."
Ava nodded weakly, her lips barely forming a smile. "I won’t," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of war outside.
The battle continued to rage, but within the medical tent, a different kind of battle was being fought—a battle for survival, for hope, and for the values that made them who they were.
As Ava drifted in and out of consciousness, her thoughts returned to the battlefield, to her comrades still fighting. She wasn't sure when or how, but she knew she would rejoin them. One way or another, she would stand beside them again.
Because that’s what Sentinels do.