Ethan closed the rear hatch of the Falcon, the heat from the internal systems began to fight the deathly chill radiating from the woman's body.

"Crul, give me a status report. How bad is it?" asked Ethan.

[Her vital signs are unstable. She is losing blood rapidly from a penetrating wound in the upper right quadrant of her abdomen. You must administer a healing potion immediately, Master,] said Crul.

"Give it to me," Ethan said mentally.

[Resource generated. However, do not administer it yet. Scans detect a foreign object lodged deep within the muscle. If the tissue closes over it, it will cause a fatal internal infection or a massive hemorrhage when you try to remove it later,] said Crul.

Ethan cursed under his breath, looking around the dark cargo bay. "Damn it, where did they leave the medical supplies? Jason usually keeps them in the jump seat lockers!" shouted Ethan.

[Look to your left, Master. According to the schematics of this Falcon model, the emergency trauma kit is located behind the pressurized panel marked 'SEC-04',] said Crul.

A faint blue outline appeared over the panel in Ethan's vision. He ripped it open and pulled out a heavy metallic case. With trauma shears, he began cutting through the woman's thick fur layers and thermal rags. As the clothes fell away, his torso was revealed. Despite the pallor of her skin and the smears of blood, she was strikingly beautiful, her pink nipples reacting to the sudden shift in temperature as her chest heaved with shallow breaths.

Just below her ribs, a jagged iron tip was protruding from a dark, oozing hole.

"Tell me what to do, Crul. I'm not a doctor," said Ethan as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

[First, irrigate the wound with saline to clear the debris. Then, use the Kelly forceps to secure the base of the object,] said Crul.

"What the hell are Kelly forceps?" asked Ethan, staring at the jumble of stainless steel tools in the kit.

[The curved, locking scissors on the far right of the tray. I have highlighted them for you,] said Crul..

A golden glow surrounded the specific tool. Ethan grabbed them, his hands steadying as the system filtered the adrenaline in his veins. He poured the saline, washing away the grit. He then used a scalpel to make a small relief incision, just as Crul instructed.

"Hold on, girl. This is going to hurt if you can feel it," Ethan said.

Ethan clamped the iron tip and pulled with a firm, steady motion. The woman let out a muffled, agonizing groan in her unconsciousness as a spray of dark blood coated Ethan's hands. As soon as the metal cleared the skin, he pressed a hemostatic gauze against the opening.

[Now, Master. Administer the potion. Her circulatory system will do the rest,] said Crul.

Ethan uncorked the glowing vial and poured it into her mouth, massaging her throat to ensure she swallowed. Almost instantly, the bleeding stopped. The jagged hole began to knit itself back together, the skin smoothing over until only a faint, pink scar remained.

Ethan let out a long breath, dropping the bloody forceps into the tray. He watched her for a moment, noticing the color slowly returning to her lips.

"She's stable. Now, Crul, what kind of object was that? It wasn't a bullet," Ethan said.

[It was a modified iron harpoon tip, Master. An archaic but effective tool used by the locals to prevent 'prey' from running. If she was fleeing from that, the reality of this town is far darker than the logs suggested,] said Crul.

Ethan stepped over to the small sink station in the Falcon's utility bay. He cracked open two bottles of distilled water, rinsing the thick, copper-smelling blood from his fingers before scrubbing them with a harsh chemical disinfectant. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the cramped space.

As he was drying his hands, he heard a sharp, ragged gasp behind him.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Ethan said, turning with a calm, reassured smile.

The woman sat up abruptly, her eyes darting around the high-tech interior of the helicopter with utter bewilderment. She looked at the carbon-fiber walls and the glowing displays as if she had been transported to another planet. Her hands flew instinctively to her side, clutching the spot where the iron had pierced her. Even though the skin was now smooth and whole, the phantom memory of the agony was still etched into her mind.

"Easy. Don't move too fast. I just finished healing you," Ethan said.

As she looked down, she realized her torso was completely bare. Her face flushed a deep, burning crimson. She let out a small, stifled cry of shock, crossing her arms tightly over her chest to cover herself.

"I'm sorry about that. I had to remove your clothes to save your life. There wasn't much of a choice," Ethan said, turning his head slightly to give her a modicum of privacy.

She pulled a spare thermal blanket around her shoulders, shivering—not from the cold, but from the sheer adrenaline. "Who... who are you? Why did you help me?" she asked.

"I'm a traveler who doesn't like the way this town smells. Now tell me, why were those men hunting you like an animal?" Ethan asked.

The woman's eyes filled with tears as she leaned against the padded wall of the bay. "I was captured. My tribe lived far to the west... they came in the night, killed the men, and dragged the rest of us here by force," she said.

"Where were they keeping you? I've walked the streets, and I didn't see any cells," Ethan said.

"They keep us in the dark. There are massive cellars and tunnels deep beneath the town buildings. That is where they store the 'shipments.' I managed to slip through a ventilation shaft during the shift change, but they caught me with a harpoon before I could reach the trees," she said.

Ethan leaned against a storage crate, crossing his arms. "And why were you lurking around my building? You could have kept running into the forest," Ethan said.

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