Last updated on 1/21/98
Alcyon Sickbay
After a short while, the pain-killers begin to take effect and Tiblisi begins to feel better.
*I feel better. I know I'm not better, but at least I feel that way. Well, I'm beginning to get some feeling back into my right arm. It hurts like its beat with a cargo lash, but at least its feeling.*
There is a bit of movement from the couch to the left.
*It looks like someone else is coming around.*
Tiblisi glances back to the right to see how the doctor is doing. Even without fully focused eyes, it's obvious the doctor is moving fast -- and muttering something -- "...get out of my way..." -- as he maneuvers around the innards of... of...
*My memories not usually this bad. What IS that guy's name? I'll remember.*
Aburptly, the mechanized arsenal pivots and moves behind Tiblisi. After a brief moment of anxiety, there is the sound of a door opening and closing. Tiblisi lies back and begins to relax when...
The infimary door opens and some security-type walks in like he owns the place.
*They think they own every place...*
Then he starts screaming at the doctor and true to form, begins waving a rifle around.
O'Shi's jaw drops. "What the screaming blue fuck...? Uh, I mean HI doc!" He takes a hesitant step into the Sickbay, looking around him and gun ready. "Where's this, uh, WARBOT? And who ARE these people? And--" His voice instantly rises to a yell. "--Where the FUCK did you come from?!"
*Security types, sergents, and chief petty officers just love to yell.* thinks Lee. *Wait a minute... what is he doing with a rifle in an infirmary? What kind of a place is this? Either this is a base infirmary, or I'm not planet-bound anymore. Great... Wonderful... Don't say a thing, Lee. Just shut-up and watch what's going on. With all that's going on in this sector, who knows? You don't want to offend someone who is keeping you alive.*
On the adjacent bio-bed, Tarmine Berana is having similar thoughts. *Where now? Hmm, more screaming, security type in my face, the calm one must be a doctor. Cleanup, drink, miss... I don't think I'm dying. Who beat me up? Why me?*
"liquid?"
Paladin
Morser replies, "Ach, GUT! Herr Azani, chust whom I am lookink for! Pleease take Frau Rrobins to her cabin unt strap her into her bunk. Ve seem to be in a crrrizis situvation right now, unt stepping on her vould NOT speed her recovery in any vay shape or Vvorrm."
Satisfied that he's being obeyed, Morser turns back to the datadisplays. "IASIC," he whimpers. "Please come back! Kommen sie zuruck! Bitte schon! Bitte schon mit ZUCKER! ACH!" He begins flipping through the computer menus. "Vhere ze hell is zat communications zetup?! It iss about Time I gave Herr Dummkopf Ger a piece of my mind-- he could USE it!"
Talisman
"Hm... computer, open sessions on displays four and five, sensory data from incoming transmissions on displays two and three. Call up file archives Gamma_7500.ecm to Gamma_8500.ecm and Delta_7500.nav to Delta_8500. nav for statistical analysis. Execute command now."
"Bridge, this is Ralf in engineering. Sorry, I stepped out earlier to deal with our visitor. I'm currently engaged in analyzing data gathered since our jump in. I may need access to the sensor equipment; can I have an open line to the comm officer's dataserver? Hm... I'm going to be taking a look at the specs for the equipment here as well..."
Thul replies from the Bridge, "Go ahead with the sensors Ralf! All stations! Report status!"
Trakh
While Khea' runs densitometer scans, Aiwi concentrates on the other passive scans, occassionally dumping data to Khaurl by tight beam laser-com and receiving similar transmissions. Her first priority is a PasEngScan from Trakh to Kingfisher. She then completes passive scans of Kingfisher, and moves to Paladin, then Talisman, and so on until passive scans on all ships (except the phin shuttle) are complete. Her dewclaw reflexively extends ever-so-slightly as she works with almost frightening intensity to get every last byte of information she can in the time allotted. She continues to monitor communications, but solely by ear while her hands are busy.
Having configured her displays for optimal efficiency, Aiwi continues to scan incoming sensor data on the fiyfiyalr ships and monitor intership communications over her earpiece, as she routes a copy of the incoming sensor data to one of Akhouw's boards. "Sensor data incoming to your display now, Admiral." Her hands move to adjust a window on her board as the Admiral orders her to predict the wreck's course, note probable impact sights, compute the possibility of survivors, and determine the cause of the damage to the wreck. All of these tasks she attempts to accomplish with the smallest possible delay. She begins performing active scans on the wreck to analyze the damage patterns and enlists the computational aid of Fa'eairl. She reports whatever the highest probability match is to the Admiral as soon as she has it.
Gemini Arbiter
Aurelia swivels in her chair and gets up from the table where the Turnskaad contract papers were spread out. Stretching, she tells Nichole, " You finish here. I'm going to the bridge. It should be bearable by now."
Walking onto the bridge, she eases into a crash couch.
"Arby, run a systems check." As the Arbiter's computer completes it's self-diagnostics, she comments, "Looks good. Okay. Now scan the area. Lets see what's been happening."
Nichole steps through the hatch.
"Well, it looks to be a standard contract." she advises her sister. "Nothing fancy. I've rechecked our data on Turnskaad. From what our records show, they seem to be the typical meduim sized company. Obviously no mention of this expedition. They've had dealings with SDS before and our parent megacorp. Standard stuff. The only problem I see is that we are currently employed by Turnskaad through SDS. Which would make signing this contract superfluous.
"Yeah," agrees Aurelia, "but this wasn't in our original contract. Wouldn't it interfere with it?"
"Did you ever look closely at our contracts?" asks Nikki. "They've all had some statement of exception included. We are given quite a bit of lattitude in the execution of our duties, you know!"
"Oh yeah!" retorts Aurelia. "That same latitude could get us canned, too!"
"Yes." Nichole replies, "But how many times have we really been reprimanded?! I can remember several instances where we used it to our advantage!"
"Oh, you're right." sighs Aurelia. "I can remember a few too. But still... Okay. Let's sign the damn thing. I think it would be better if we did. It might make THEM feel better if we did, too!"
"Besides," adds Nichole, "think of it this way. They might get in trouble if they didn't help us! You never know how important that cargo is we're carrying."
A chime sounds as Arby finishes the scan ordered a few minutes earlier. Turning from Nichole, Aurelia swings back to face the console.
"Let's see what the scanning shows. Whoa! Things have changed quite a bit since the last time."
Sitting down at her, Nichole punches into the adjacent console.
"Look there! The Kingfisher has powered up her weapons systems!"
"Has anyone else?" asks Aurelia.
Nichole brings up the relevant data. "Doesn't look like it."
"What's his name?" ponders Aurelia. "Ger. I wonder what he's trying to do? What's the Aslan doing?"
"Nothing so far." Then Nichole points to another part of the display. "And there! That ship from R-Alpha has just about docked with the Westwind."
Aurelia exclaims, "Huh? That must be some ship!" Glancing at the rest of the display, she continues, "Looks like we wait a while before we transmit the contract. Since they've powered up their weapons I don't think they're to concerned with legal documents right now!"
"Maybe we should call them?" suggests Nichole.
"I don't think so." counter Aurelia. "Let's see what happens first."
R-Alpha
Grob the Kyth, fleeing madly from the alien vision he'd just been subjected to, glances behind him and sees the frightening flying-thing zooming after him above the trees. They are following me to the Gathering, he realizes suddenly. I am betraying the Kythui by leading their enemies to them!
With that thought comes action. Grob heels his mount hard to the left and takes off at right angles to his previous course....
Upon noticing the R-Alphan native changing his direction of travel, Hryawi instructs Hfolraw to plot another intercept. Hfolraw continues to drive the Aslan speeder in a straight line for a short time, then quickly replots another course which will cross ahead of his prey, and cutting off the escape. Moving the speeder low through the trees, Hfolraw scans for a clearing in the thick brush, looking for a spot several hundred meters in front of the Kyth, far enough ahead to avoid detection until it is too late. The scientist will have her specimen, thinks Hfolraw. It's only a matter of time.
Trakh
>From Aiwi's station, where she is currently monitoring sensors and communications, Aiwi speaks in her usual terse, professional manner, but perhaps a handful of decibels above normal, due in part to the sudden flurry of activity on sensors and in part because she wants to make sure she is heard. Her voice barely modulates, with the sole exception of a deferential drop in pitch when she uses the only title that commands her unfailing respect, "New sensor contact, Admiral." Her hands move swiftly over instruments so familiar she knows them by touch, as she continues, "Object on the far side of the ringworld, approximately 2 AU from us. Approximately 1,000 displacement tons... in a slow decaying orbit. Some heat registering, but not evenly distributed... secondary radiation leakage consistent with containment failure of a ship's power plant... VLS shows it to be a starship hull, *badly* damaged... by high velocity impacts or explosions on hull surface... unable to match hull with certainty; highest probablility is a Tukera type RT LongLiner... a ship that would carry a crew of 14 and up to 36 passengers. Sir."
In the midst of reviewing the course tracks of the variety of ships in near proximity to the _Trakh_, Akhouw's ears twitch in surprise. He politely acknowledges Aiwi's report, then shifts the course track to a corner of his HUD and calls up a full display of the new contact. After a brief look, he touches the controls. The combined EMS image of the liner grows in size to fill nearly the whole HUD, as Akhouw gets a comprehensive view, from stem to stern.
When he is finished, a decisive stab of his claw clears the liner image and resumes his close watch on the variety of ships in the vicinity. "Aiwi, predict wreck course and note probable impact sites; compute possibility of survivors. Continue analysis of damage pattern and attempt to specify cause. Use active scan as required."
Alcyon Sickbay
When O'Shi bursts upon the scene, Christian is well into the early stages of the trauma surgery, staunching the worst of the internal bleeding and preparing to repair the major organ damage. Sparing O'Shi only a moment's glance, he continues the operation with unabated precision and commendable speed, as his hands and eyes cooperate in a deft surgical ballet. His voice is cool and measured, although a close listener would detect the undercurrent of irritation at the rude interruption.
"My apologies for my unconventional arrival, O'Shi, but I couldn't wait for a taxi." He checks the med-holo, then turns to the trauma bay controls and orders a supplemental dosage of anarad, to take care of minor radiation exposure, and hyronaline, to boost blood resupply. The vital signs were firming up well, as the drugs began to take hold. Christian released a very small sigh of relief, before resuming his ... dialogue with his unwelcome visitor.
"...and hello as well. My patients here are the victims of some sort of spacecraft crash, I'm not exactly sure myself where they're from." In the midst of reattaching a swarm of severed blood vessels, Christian begins to program a host of nanocytes to handle a variety of very delicate regenerative chores. "...They came to me, and I to the Alcyon, by way of the Ringworld, or Hoop as some call it. Created by the Ancients, I believe, and gifted with the ability to teleport people and equipment." He favors O'Shi with a sidelong glance. "You can contact it, if you have a problem, I believe it's on 1337.45 Mhz."
"The, ah, warbot you've noticed is the property of Doctor Tweeerrrlll, whom we rescued off of the Bernoulli. It's called OSF-4, and is currently in my cabin, assisting in the care of his owner, one of my patients as well."
Suddenly, Christian notices the gauss rifle that O'Shi is waving about the Sickbay. He sharply orders, "Mahlel, put that rifle away, dammit, before I implant it up your colon. There's nothing here for Security to get paranoid about." He glares at O'Shi. "And stop screaming your head off in Sickbay -- got it?" He turns back to his patient, muttering about peace and quiet.
As the doctor yells at O'Shi, Tiblisi just lies back further into the couch and tries not to be noticed.
O'Shi glares at the Doctor, and blurts, "Implant it up my--" His jaw shuts with a snap like a steel trap as he sees that van der Merwe is now pointedly ignoring him. He looks around the room, hitching up his Bermuda shorts with a free hand, then makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a fart.
*O'Shi could use some attitude adjustment, as always. Never understand how such a bullying slob got hired for this ticket.* A part of Christian's mind muses while the remainder is otherwise engaged. His hands reached for a spray applicator of stimgen, a potent regrowth stimulator. *It was a mistake to include him on the Alcyon roster. Typically, his sort of personality required close supervision, else the freedom might go to his swelled head.*
His mind subconsciously notes O'Shi's adjustment. *Crude, as always, but he does know where his brains are.* His mind laughs. His hands switch between instruments, the nerve fusor replacing the spray applicator. The patient was responding well to the surgery, Christian noted. Hormonal reponses were near optimal, and the holoscan indicated the tide of trauma was slowly receding; the repair of the internal organ damage remained the critical task. The surgery continued.
Trakh
A moment of silence passes on the bridge of the _Trakh_ as the results from the first set of sensor scans are analysed by Aiwi and Aolrkhea', with the assistance of the computer. Schematics, estimates, and targeting information begin to appear on various monitors, holotanks, and HUDs around the Bridge. On the tactical plot, a new marker appears for the apparent derelict at extreme range.
Akhouw intently studies the shifting tactical readouts and holotank images. His internal tension is only visible in the unbidden extension of his dewclaw. Meditatively, he scratches his chin with his right dewclaw.
The brief spell is broken when Aolrkhea' whispers into her throat commdot. "Fa'eairl. Begin EMS/IR scans, control at my station. Status."
The computer's soft female voice emanates from the commdot. _Densitometer analysis continuing. Radio traffic anaylsis complete. I stand ready._
The status alert sounds again. Aolrkhea' glances at the screen and touches a button on her panel. "Hwa'ahel. Ship _Aurora_ is now also off-line. Perform densitometer scan, high priority." She shakes her head slightly. "Admiral, relativistic calculations indicate that the systems on ship _Aurora_ failed simultaneously with the others, as if by FTL communication.
Akhouw frowns slightly, as a low growl indicates his interest in this odd fact.
"Fa'eairl," continues Aolrkhea', "Play the results of traffic analysis back on by earpiece, at compressed speed."
Briefly waiting for results, she looks at her visual scan. The green band of the far side of the ring now dominates the image, white cotton streams of clouds visibly above the fields and glittering water of the structure, the snow bands on the mountainous spill walls blinding in their glare. *Yes, truly a layeaueakh,* she thinks quietly. *Who was it that composed "Yoyeaokhtef for a Ringworld"? Ah, I remember, it was Hkyoei.*
The alert sounds again. "Admiral, ship _Gemini Arbiter_ has also shut down." She immediately sets up the densitometer to scan the vessel. Suddenly, she cocks her head, listening to the ongoing playback. *Teleport?!* Aolrkhea' shoots a look over at Aiwi's station. Aiwi is completely engrossed in the operation of her sensor suite, her hands playing the console like the consummate artist she is.
"Admiral Akhouw. I think you should hear this on the main speaker. These are Aiwi's radio interceptions on frequency 1337.45 Mhz, beginning about tea areiaao before I reported to the bridge."
A calm human male voice floats out of the bridge speaker. "Iasic has been mildly chastised and will not improve your systems beyond this without your permission."
Then Ger's voice is heard.
"To the sophont at 1337.45 Mhz, Please Identify yourself. If you have any control over the Iasic personality, please instruct it to disengage itself from all our systems. I consider its actions to be quite disruptive, and irregular." "We have the coordinates, I am quite confident that my personnel can get us there without any difficulty or assistance".
Aolrkhea' touches her panel. "And tea areiaao teakheh later, this."
The same calm human male voice speaks again.
"I am this world, which turns below you. I had not expected visitors at this time, but I welcome you nevertheless.
"I apologize for the apprehension that IASIC has caused you. His efforts were intended to be of a beneficial nature. He will remove himself from your systems immediately."
As the communications intercept continues to play, Akhouw's face reflects his increasing surprise. "Most illuminating...." is his initial comment. After a moment's thought, he turns to Aolrkhea'. "Query the _Aurora_ as to their contact with the Iasic construct and if this is related to their engineering difficulty."
Aolrkhea' cuts in. "I think this next voice is an Ael Yael, an avian species from Gushemege sector. He sounds quite weak."
Tweel's voice plays back.
"Attention, Rrring, thiss iss the ISSss Aurrorra on 1337.45, you have jussst ssent uss thrree patientss. We rrequessst inforrrmation on theirr injurrriess *IMMEDIATELY*. Alssso, we rrequessst that you possibly teleporrt, them, theirr sssurgeon and hiss equipment to the Alssseyon wherre betterr equipment iss available. *PLEASSE!!!!* Every pico-sssecond is the Grreat Hunterr's weapon!"
While his face reflects increased surprise and interest, his comment is a laconic "Kai! (Indeed!)". His face relaxes into a more thoughtful, concerned pose. "Further query _Aurora_ regarding origin of those patients. Request further information regarding possible link to liner wreck. Suggest that sharing of data is to our mutual benefit and that we are willing to reciprocate." He glances at Aolrkhea. "Understood?"
He returns his gaze to the holotank. "Teleport!" he mutters. "Truly this is a strange time, when one may confront what seems to some as the magic of the tai'ao. Yet now, as ever, the wise counsel of taro is heeded."
Talisman
"Aye aye, Cap'n, full scan coming up. Hoist the mizzenmast and batten down the hatches! Er, or something like that..." Ralf starts accessing the sensor data and running passive scans on the entire Ring system. "Let's see... I wonder if we've all been so busy looking at the Ring, we've overlooked something else?"
Ralf considers for a moment, then preps a query packet and sends it to the sensor suites on the other expedition ships - except for the Kingfisher (according to his logs Ger gave orders to all ships to drop the Kingfisher from the Turnskaad datasphere).
Shortly after Ralf's message, control of ships sensors starts to be incrementally diverted from the bridge to engineering. First, control of the phase-array sensor guidance is tranferred, then one commo channel after another is re-routed, slowly removing all sensor control from the bridge and transferring aft.
Paladin
Azani picks up Charyn's limp body and carts her down the hall toward her stateroom. She's not too heavy, being somewhat slim. Charyn's unconcious eyes open to slits, but with no apparent awareness behind them. She drools on Azani's shoulder as he places her in her bunk. He buckles her in.
As he is about to turn to leave, he hears a slurp of inhaled breath, her eyes flutter wide open, the lids press together against the light and motion, then reopen tentatively. They're a cloudy mottled green, the color of sludge in a sewage treatment plant. She mumbles thickly but with surprising volume "wha... hello?".
She tries to sit up and discovers the restraint, puzzled. Her dark hands reach alongside and unbuckle the restraint. She tries to sit up again, winces, and lays back down. She reaches gently up to her head with both hands and places them softly, palm flat against her temples. She clearly pronounces a profound, genuine, and thoughtful "Owwwww...".
"Whoever's there - got anything for a headache?"
Alcyon Sickbay
O'Shi stalks over to the wall, lowering the rifle and muttering over and over like a mantra, "DON'T beat ass on medical personnel. DON'T beat ass on medical personnel. DON'T beat--" He punches the intercom button savagely.
"Bridge, this is Mahlel. I don't know how you did this, Grey, but when I find out I'm gonna KICK yer ass. It's the Doc all right...." He shoots a glance over his shoulder, and if looks could maim, van der Merwe would need crutches. "Same high-minded talk, same snotty attitude."
"ME?!" Grey rubs his eyes. "Why the hell is this MY fault all of a sudden?"
"Because you're *handy*, asshole. And I CAN'T yell at HIM, he's BUSY."
As O'Shi walks beyond the field of view and begins yelling at someone named Grey, Tiblisi thinks, *There's no one else here. Must be through an intercom.*
Despite his intense concentration upon the trauma surgery, the acuity of Christian's hearing is unimpaired. His eyes quickly stab at O'Shi, sharply narrowing in a "later for you" gesture, likely missed by the obtuse yet amusingly attired security team member. 'Vouf, were he present, would unerringly note the breathing pattern and altered body chemistry warning of Christian's slow burn.
"What's he doing? From the securecam shots it looks like he's doing a whole-colon transplant with no donor....yuck...." Grey sounds queasy.
"He's up to his elbows in somebody's guts." O'Shi glances at the operating table. "Not one of ours, though the Mohawk could belong to Doc Yarbles. Looks like a crash victim, either that or he tried to fire an FGMP without combat armor. I'll check out the other cases."
"Yeah, okay. Just watch out for that Warbot, okay? Bridge out."
"WHAT warbot?" O'Shi sneers. "You're imagining things, Grey. Security out." He slings the Gauss rifle over his shoulder and saunters over to the two nearby treatment tables. He wrinkles his nose at the two forms lying on the tables. "Geesh, whatta mess. We should probably slot these two before they rot any further. Mebbe we can feed 'em to 'Vouf."
In a low breath, Tiblisi begins to mutter,"Slot..." *Shut up Lee. Your mouth will get you into serious trouble one of these days. Besides, you're a Purser now not a Deck Hand. You have to watch yourself. Well, wait until your healthy again, and then we'll see who's going to slot who. Years of working cargo did you some good.*
O'Shi snickers, then suddenly catches himself and shuts up. With a guilty look over his shoulder at van der Merwe, he tiptoes over to the CMO's cabin door, following the spots of blood on the deck. "Somebody crawling away...?"
O'Shi continues to provide fuel for Christian's intensifying slow burn. At the crack about 'Vouf, Christian's nostrils flare and he stabs another glance at O'Shi. Normally a mild man, Doctor Van Der Merwe is clearly reaching the summit of an otherwise mountain of patience, yet his surgery is unaffected, continuing on with deft precision and speed.
Suddenly, O'Shi appears in Tiblisi's field of vision, as he steps between the two bio-beds headed for Christian's cabin. Then O'Shi walks out of view, and there is the whoosh of a door opening.
*This is going to be good*, thinks Lee.
The door slides open, and O'Shi finds himself face to face with OSF-4. He starts back, one hand reflexively grabbing for an absent sidearm, then halts. Another mantra: "DON'T try ta outdraw a Warbot. DON'T try ta outdraw a Warbot." He lowers his hands. SLOWLY.
He frowns for a moment, as if he's having trouble deciding on something. Then, with a grunt of disgust, he unslings the rifle and puts it against the wall. He grabs a portable trauma kit from the rack on the wall, and strides into the cabin. Doctor van der Merwe can only hear his voice.
"Hey Doc," yells O'Shi. "Ya know you've got a Ale-Yale bleeding ta death all over yer bunk? These little guys is kinda flimsy..."
*I've seen an Ale-Yael before.* thinks Lee. *Don't let them hear you say that.*
"Okay, sport," mutters O'Shi, "let's have a lookitcha-- hey! Hey, Warbot! Make yerself useful, okay? G'wan out ta the supply server, and thaw six units of synthetic plasma, ah, lessee, Type Three works on these guys, we should have some in stock if the people who stockt this place got any sense. Lessee now--UGH! Better make that TEN units. C'mahn, c'mahn! Y'wannim ta bleed ta death? Stoopid gahdamn machine. Lessee now, anti- infective, check, clotting factor, check, suture-dissolve, check, suturegun, check, biomonitor, check. Ster'lize the hands, check. Gloves, check. Filter mask, chmmph. Bmmphl gmmph wmmphl gmmph mummph...."
Lee spends the next few moments trying to decide whether to breathe deep to reduce the headache or shallow to avoid the stench of the gore covering the jumpsuit. The guy on the other couch moves some more.
*Looks like I'll have someone to talk to soon...*
Trakh
On the outer hull of the _Trakh_, a single lasercom unit swivels out of its rest position and activates. At the speed of light, carefully tuned and modulated photons shine toward the distant _Aurora_.
Almost three areiaao (45 seconds) later, the laser from _Trakh_ sweeps the hull of the _Aurora_. After some delay, it finally finds and locks on to the ship's laser reciever unit.
Holographic static solidifies into an image of a Aslan female officer of late middle age, wearing a ship's uniform in Khaukeairl clan colors which identifies her as a mid-level naval officer and a physician-scientist (for those who can read the insignia).
She speaks, in flawless Rim Galanglic. "This is Khaukeairl Space Navy vessel Trakh to ISS Aurora, Executive Lieutenant Aolrkhea' speaking on behalf of Admiral AkhouwTra'Ekhaul. We have observed that your vessel has been undergoing severe difficulties. Do you require assistance of any kind? We will stand by for your response. Over." The figure freezes, showing that the transmission remains open but not active.
There is a pause for a few areiaao. "Aurora, this is Trakh. We understand that you have had contact with the Iasic construct, and request to know if it is the cause of your recent problems. We also understand that you seem to have some injured persons aboard. Are they from the liner wreck? We have medical personnel aboard who have training in emergency care for humans and other non-Aslan sophonts. We understand any reservations that you might have toward our offer, but we are fully willing to share our data with you on equal terms. We continue to stand by. Over."
Alcyon Sickbay
With a masterful and award-winning effort, Christian musters his professional discipline to withstand the further gibe of O'Shi. When the aural message that O'Shi is attempting first aid finally fights its way past the clog of traffic on the neural highways, Christian's head snaps up and he stares at his cabin in disbelief. Good intentions aside, Mahlel had no medical training, much less xenomedical experience. He wasn't going to trust his friend to a paint-by-numbers utterly green rookie with his first canvas.
Lucan floated over in response to Christian's summons. It silently hovered and accepted its orders. "Lucan, go into my cabin. O'Shi Mahlel will be administering medical treatment to Doctor Tweel. You are to observe the procedure and CLOSELY monitor Tweel's condition. You are to alert me IMMEDIATELY if you detect improper treatment that poses a risk to the patient. Feed your data to the sickbay 'puter. Go!" A moment is spent in creation of a choice invective, then Christian sets up a small holo off to the side of the trauma bay in order to keep an eye on Tweel.
*I need to get a drink of water* thinks Tiblisi. *My mouth feels like rats have nested in it for a year or two, and my thoat feels raw. Still, it's not as bad as the... fragrance... I've acquired.*
Resuming his delicate surgery, Christian's nose wrinkles as he finally notices the stench wafting from the two gore-soaked patients at the far wall. A nudge activates the intercom. "Pater, increase ventilation to Sickbay and release scent neutralizer into the airflow."
He turns to talk to Dulinor. "Use a sonic seperator and remove as much of that... gore coating those patients as you can. Keep them sedated and stabilized until I can get there." He glances back at his patient, gauging the extent of his progress, then back to Dulinor. "I won't be much longer here, you will finish closure when I'm done, then I'll work on those two there..." He looks daggers at the cabin wall. "... assuming Mahlel is out of my hair."
Tiblisi sess one of the robots move towards the bed and inspect the bags at the foot of each one. It then began attaching some form of laser scapel to one of its appendages and begin to make some adjustments. After inspecting the bags, the robot speaks in an oddly familiar voice.
Perhaps disconcertingly, the voice of Archduke Dulinor is heard in Sickbay, albeit with a vagely robotic tone. "Doctor Van Der Merwe, the gear bags of these patients do not contain medical records, but proper nomenclature is indicated; Lee Tiblisi (Medbay Two) and Tar Berana (Medbay Three). Their origin is not indicated at this time." A monitor beeps softly; Dulinor pivots to scan the two.
"Doctor Van Der Merwe, both patients are exhibiting increased neurological and motor activity. Predict both conscious within... 15.807 seconds." Nearly on cue, Lee and Tar try to sit up and mumble, respectively. Dulinor notes their movement. "Both patients are now conscious, Doctor. Possibly coherent. Instructions?"
*I damned well coherent* thinks Lee. *Berana... Berana... That's right. The passenger in cabin C-2. As for instructions, get me cleaned up, a glass of water, and a stack of twenty credit chits while you're at it. I could have really used something like you on _Glory_ before the hard times.*
Lee tries to ask for something to drink, but only a light croak comes out. Suddenly there is a fresh aroma that, because of the prolonged lack of food, makes Lee's mouth water. *Well, that helps my throat a bit.* With the saliva, Lee swallows and most of the rawness fades away.
Christian looks over at the pair. "Maintain pre-treatment protocol and monitoring. Advise of further developments." He checks his own patient, then glances at Tweel's monitor. "I'm nearly done here." His vocal volume increases slightly, as his tone becomes almost cheerful. "Welcome to the Alcyon, gentlemen, my name is Christian Van Der Merwe. I'll be with you shortly."
"No problem, Doc," rasps Tiblisi. "Take your time. I don't think I have any pressing engagements at the moment."
Paladin
Azani, just about leave, notices Charyn move a little and gurgle. He then turns and approaches her.
"Lay still Ms. Robins, I'll get the doctors, they'll be pleased along with Zar that you are conscious."
"Allah be praised..." as he bows and leaves the room. Azani quickly walks up to the bridge...
"Charyn is awake and requires some medical assistance. She has a headache and I'm sure the doctors would like to examine her to discover her condition." "Mr. Zar, I have some experience in piloting, maybe I can help you on the bridge."
Trakh
Fa'eairl speaks. _Anomaly detected in density scan of _Arbiter_. Superdense volume of 25kL range which cannot be effectively imaged in interior of vessel._
Intrigued, Akhouw contemplates the sensor information and depiction of the _Arbiter_ in the main holotank. "An unusual ship, this one. Unarmed, and yet..." He points at the anomaly datum. "Fa'eairl. Anomaly aboard the fiyfiyalr ship _Gemini Arbiter_. Speculate as to purpose, report when complete."
As the data begins to come in, Aiwi's dewclaws extend further, but not so much as to interfere with the work at hand. She speaks without turning from her displays; her tone is still unemotional, professional, but she is appreciably louder than before, "Admiral, scans show increased power flow to the Kingfisher's weapon turret... definitely more than required for standby... the turret has moved from its rest position, apparently targeting... the ringworld, or something near it which does not show up on sensors. Sir."
An icy ball forms in Aolrkhea''s gut, but is swiftly dissipated by the rush of hormones she feels at the possibility of fighting and dying, the same rush she knows her huntress ancestors felt on the wide savannahs of Kusyu. "They must be blaming the ringworld for their ship problems," she said. I don't like it. We are almost between _Kingfisher_ and the ring, and with homing or remote missiles, if they want to re-target on us, they won't need to move the turret more than a handful of degrees!"
Taken aback by this news, Akhouw swiftly recovers and shakes his mane in irritated puzzlement. His fist thumps onto the arm of his command chair.
"For all my experience with fiyfiyalr, I cannot comprehend these odd ones." He sighs in exasperation, then makes his commanding presence felt, turning to each bridge officer and dispatching orders in rapid succession.
Aolrkhea' takes a deep breath. "Admiral, your orders?"
"Aolrkhea', prepare power plant for rapid implementation of full combat power output, on my command. Initiate active EMS scan of _Kingfisher_, localized to missile turret. Bring jammer systems online and target _Kingfisher_ ONLY, but DO NOT ACTIVATE. Run screen diagnostics and prepare to energize, on my command."
"Uhwaikh, traverse laser and target Kingfisher turret only; DO NOT ENERGIZE." Akhouw speaks with urgency, but slowly and clearly, so that there is no shadow of doubt. "DO NOT ACTIVATE MISSILE BATTERIES. Ready sandcaster and place on active standby."
Aolrkhea' taps her panel. "Engineering, Bridge. Aeawiyh, the Admiral orders combat alert. We may be requesting full combat power in the space of a breath. Prepare the fusion plant and stand by."
Akhouw turns to face forward, clearly confused and alarmed by this inexplicable incident. "What is this Admiral Nanadth up to? There is no antagonist. To attack us is madness, to fire upon the Ringworld is an equally dishonorable attack. What can his purpose be?" His smouldering eyes narrow.
"Aiwi, alert the _Khaurl_ by secure masercomm. Then open a general radio channel and hail the Kingfisher." He looks at Aiwi to emphasize his order. "Priority protocol. Request immediate visual communications and demand that they explain this event and declare their intentions openly."
Angrily, Akhouw shakes his mane. He takes a deep breath and visibly calms himself. Dealing with fiyfiyalr always required a higher degree of self- discipline and control of his natural aggressive instinct. This mission was too important to be wrecked by improvident aggression, yet he could not ignore the possible danger. Tolerance of dishonor extended only so far.
Facing the main vidscreen and awaiting an answer, Akhouw meditated upon the situation, hoping that saner, honorable, fiyfiyalr minds would yet prevail. Perhaps the Zodian spirit was not unknown to them.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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