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"Damn. Damn it to hell," Xris said softly.
He turned, with some idea of telling Rowan to get the Little One out of there, but he was too late. The empath broke away from her, ran past Xris, heading straight for the shrouded figure.
"Doc!" Xris called warningly. "I've got the medic covered. You go take care of ..." He left the sentence unfinished. There was probably very little left to care for ... except the Little One. And what they'd do with him, Xris couldn't imagine.
The Little One was climbing up onto the bed.
Quong lowered his weapon. With soothing words, he endeavored to stop the empath. But the doctor was too late. The Little One plucked the sheet from the body.
Raoul lay beneath it. The Adonian was dressed in a hospital gown. ("He must be dead!" Xris muttered to himself.) The long black hair was uncombed, disheveled. Wide, unseeing eyes stared at the ceiling.
The Little One grabbed hold of Raoul's hospital gown with both small hands and tugged.
"My friend, please!" Quong attempted to remonstrate. "He is dead. There is nothing--"
"How did this happen?" Xris demanded.
The medic started to babble. "We found him stowed away on board our ship. He was in a drugged stupor. We did what we could, but--"
"I'll bet." Xris sneered. "I also don't believe a word. Rowan, go help the Doc. Rowan ..."
She wasn't looking at him or listening to him
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