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Red carefully brought the bucket of warm water and washcloth to set up at the stool at the side of Mag’s cot. Kor, Rancor battalion’s chief medic had checked Kix’s notes and concluded that Mag would wake in the next hour or so and Red knew they had been sedated for the whole trip to Kamino.
As far as any natborn or longneck knew, Mag was here for the next round of ARF training, signed off by Captain Rex. It was a good excuse, Red thought. Their batcher had always had an affinity for plants and animals, and would likely be able to use their new gifts to excel at the training. Assuming, Rex’s comm message had said, that Rancor battalion’s Gifted could keep them sane. Commander Havoc had assigned the task to Red, and might have anyway, but Red was determined not to lose their closest vod.
Mag’s break had been bad, a crisis in the middle of battle, and Torrent had done everything they possibly could to keep him safe until they could get him out. Red carefully removed Mag’s blacks and began to gently wipe the sweat and grime off his skin. They kept their breathing in a meditative pattern, building a blanket of safety and calm to wrap around him as they made sure he would suffer no discomfort after five days in sedation. The water was only lightly soapy and gently warm, the cloth the softest that they could find. Another vod brought him a clean bucket and he moved around to wash Mag’s hair, his hands trembling more even than they had when they had read that they would be going to separate posting.
Red had shared thoughts and feelings with so many of their vod, but nobody sang in their veins like Mag.
Carefully, they toweled off their friend, and dressed him in clean blacks. They took another deep, centering breath, and carefully traced the branches of the jagged, bare tree tattooed across Mag’s face. *Wake up, darling,* they sent, the thought as fragile as spun glass. *It’s a new day and I’ve got you here and safe with me.*