The TML PBeM

1992, Turn 3 - Part 8 (of 11)

Trakh Sickbay

"I apologize for the interruption, sir. Now, you were saying...." As Simon speaks, Aolrkhea' supervises Aeawiyh as she works with the diagnostic table's expert system to examine the patient.

Aolrkhea' speaks again in Trokh. "Aeawiyh, you seem to be doing just fine on your own. Finish your examination, and let me know what the results are. Be certain to check his neural system for signs of hyperspace exposure syndrome and do a lymphocyte analysis. That liner was in pretty rough shape." And in Galanglic: "Well, so far it looks like you'll be just fine. If you'll excuse me, I will see to your companion." She picks up the large portable medscanner and carries it over to Kara. "Now, let's see how you are doing, Commander. Eihoftyah, please come here and assist me with my equipment." She opens the carrying case and begins to set up.

Eihoftyah looks surprised at the request, but only for a moment. He recovers his composure and joins Aolrkhea' at her work, one ear cocked to her whisper.

Aolrkhea' begins to speak gently in Trokh to Eihoftyah as she works. "Commandant, note that while this arleaeha may appear to be male, she is in fact biologically a female. It is important that you be able to recognize the difference. Note that in both humans and arleaeha, mature females tend to exhibit enlarged glandular structures for raising the very young, as do fteirle." She motions Eihoftyah to hand her a small tool from a tray, which she uses to adjust a portable scanner. "In arleaeha, the paired structures are very small and located further down the torso than in ftierle, and humans have but one pair, in the proper location. While she may act male, for medical purposes I need to know the biological gender, much like I would need to know biological species if you were bringing a member of the Zodian clan to sickbay. There is no dishonor in your error, but remember this. I regret the need to bring these minor matters to your attention. Knowlege of such things might bring you even further honor one day."

Eihoftyah nods at the unusual data, and regards Kara narrowly for a moment. He then looks dubiously over at Simon. "And is THAT one a MALE?"

While Aolrkhea''s attempts at conversation are constantly interrupeted, Kara sits patiently. Her eyes are focused on the designs decorating the walls of the room, but her ears remain focused on the doctor.

Khea' activates the medscanner and begins to examine Kara. She switches to Galanglic. "Thank you for your assistance, Eihoftyah. Comman--" she begins, as her commdot beeps twice.

> . . . "Aiwi to Aorlkhea', message on your board. Check it when >you have finished in sickbay. Aiwi out."

> << . . . Aolrkhea': Interview our guests and ensure that there is >no danger of disease, as well as try to discover their personal background. >You are Executive Officer on Duty until Aiwi returns. >>

She pauses. "Pardon me." Into her commdot. "Akhouw, Aolrkhea'. Aye aye. Good hunting! Out." She sighs and tries again. "You are of the Urzaeng people, correct? Do you have any medical conditions that I should be aware of?"

Kara's ears fold back sharply as she eyes at the good doctor for a moment. Silence settles across the room.

The aslan doctor stands perfectly still, recognizing warning signals when she sees them.

A few seconds later, Kara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She begins to brush down the fur on the back of her neck which a moment before had raised spikily. A pained look crosses her muzzel as she speaks. "No, Doctor, I'm NOT Urzaeng. I may be TALL, but I'm not STUPID."

Kara breathes deeply and continues brightly. "I am Gvegh-Aekhu, if that'll help. And no, I'm not aware of any medical problems to complicate my condition."

Aolrkhea' bows slowly in ritual submission. "I apologize to you, Commander Karravore Verramduser Corrazone Audax Kavishar. By no means did I intend to insult you or your ancestors in any way, or imply anything about your mental ability. It seems it is my turn to be mistaken. I admit that I have somewhat less experience with members of your species that with the races of humaniti. There are few Vargr in the Extents. Thank you for correcting my error, it is helpful."

Kara makes a cutting guesture with her paw, "No need for you to apologise, Doctor. It is *I* who lost my temper without cause. For that *I* apologize." She bows as much as she can without rising from the bunk. "Khayo-fie, Doctor Aolrkhea'."

Khea' pauses for a moment, as if she wants to say something and can't quite make up her mind. "I understand what it feels like to be misunderstood... and looked upon wrongly, if that is the term, by aliens." She stops, and fiddles with a scanner for a moment, then looks directly at Kara, as if sizing her up somehow. "Commander Karravore Verramduser Corrazone Audax Kavishar, you may certainly call me Dr. Khea'." Her expression is almost unreadable.

"Commander Karravore Verramduser Corrazone Audax Kavishar, do you have an informal name which you would prefer me to use? We have no need to stand on formal ritual right now."

Kara eyes the battery of medical instruments deployed against her for a moment. Her expression is indecipherable and she seems lost in thought as her hand passes over the upper red and black rondelle on her left arm. She lightly massages the spot there, and then touches the lower one.

Suddenly she jumps back to the sickbay, "Never be more formal than your hosts." she recites quickly. Then pauses before she continues, "Call me Kara, Doctor Khea'." Her ears focus on the doctor and her tail thumps the bunk heavily.

Aolrkhea' bows again, more shallowly and less formally. "Thank you, Kara." She picks up another instrument. "Now, let us finish this examination, so that we may repair to the wardroom where the two of you can relax in more comfort."

Kara settles back more comfortably as more and more medical instruments are brought to bear on her. As the array of sensors peer at her, Kara's ears begin to fold back. Her tail twitches nervously while Arlokhea' studies the readings. Finally, she closes her eyes as if to focus on more pleasant thoughts. "Dr. Khea', how's the human? Thought, he said his name's Simon Leeevy?" She speaks quickly, "I'm concerned about the survivors of the ship. It's no good to see so many just vanish. If there're any other survivors, I'd like to know. I mayn't have been in the crew, but I'm obligated to look out for 'em. They were on a Tukera ship, and Tukera hired me to look after their inteeerests."

Aolrkhea' pauses, and looks down at Kara, choosing her words with care. "I know that a few other survivors were...rescued by an Imperial vessel, the _Alcyon_, a Turnskaad Enterprises tender. I do not know much more than that yet. Perhaps the admiral will tell us more when he returns."

At the mention of his name, Simon looks up, mildly surprised. "uh, did you need me for something? I was just considering the fate of the other crew and the passengers myself and didn't hear what you were saying."

Kara cocks a concerned ear in Simon's direction but does not move to disturb the Doctor's investigations. "I was just asking if you were all right. You haven't made aaa sound."

Simon pauses for a moment, thinking, distant.

"I guess sometimes, the hardest battles we fight are the internal ones. You have brought much honor on your clan this day already. Again I thank you for my life."

He drops his head back on his pillow (or whatever they're using) and drifts off again.

Kara scowls a bit and concern shows in her whisper to the Aslan Doctor, "Is he ok?"

Aolrkhea' hardly pauses in her work as she whispers back, "He seems to be recovering from mental shock, understandably. Unless something else turns up, he will be fine."

Kara continues on nervously, "By the way Doctor, where did you say you were trained as a physician? Seems you know a great deal about non-Fterlie."

Aolrkhea' glances down at her instruments. "I once studied medicine at the Imperial University of Wariner, Daibei, as part of my work there in physical and developmental sophontology." She pauses, then looks up. "Since then, I have continued to study xenomedicine, and I have done some liaison work with scientists from Tralyeaeawi's clan Zodia, who require such talents." She looks at the instruments, records some data swiftly in female script, and turns off the portable mediscanner. She smiles slightly in the Aslan fashion. "That should be it."

A wave of relief sweeps over Kara as the instruments are put away. She swings her long legs over the side of the bunk preparing to leap out of the bunk. "Zodia clan? Who're they? I don't thi..." A sudden thought strikes Kara. "What was that you said about the Extents? Few Vargr? Surely you mean the Fterlie Hierate?" Confusion passes over her features like a wave. "We WERE in Vland sector... just off Kasear... Garavarrr! Just *WHERE* are we?"

" *Fteirle* Hierate, Kara. Some fteirle are quite sensitive about that. Did I say Extents? My tongue must have slipped. I have finished your examination, and besides for a few minor side-effects resulting from your misadventure, I think that you will be all right. Why don't we go to a more comfortable place to continue this discussion. If you will give me a moment."

She turns to the other doctor, who is finishing with Simon Levy.

Kara's tail drops a bit. "My apologies for my pronunciation Doctor. I've had no formal leaning in your language. I'm afraid my Trokh comes mostly from watching the late-late-late shooow."

She then mutters quietly in Gveg, *Ahh, but you dodged my question skillfully enough...*

"Aeawiyh, I trust you discovered nothing unexpected in your examination of Simon Levy? It looks like he may be in a mild state of mental shock, so I think that I would like to move him to a more relaxed atmosphere."

"He has," Aeawiyh makes a face, "dishonored his clothing. Other than that, he is well."

"Good. I'm going to take them to the forward crew lounge, since we have the troopers hot-bunked in the wardroom. I will instruct Fa'eairl to reduce output from the fusion reactor -- she can do that herself. I need you to examine the lifeboat _Khaurl_ towed back and find out what you can about what happened. Make a duplicate of the pod's flight recorder for the admiral and pass it to the Bridge."

"Done, Doctor."

"Eihoftyah, if you or one of your subordinates have an areiaao or two, would one of you accompany the guests and myself to the crew lounge? I would use the wardroom, but I want to make certain that we don't have any problems with misunderstandings."

"I will do so," Eihoftyah says with a growl. "But I believe Hfolraw will have more luck with diplomacy in this situation."

Aolrkhea' gravely nods. "I understand. All I need is to have an escort to help me take these people to the crew lounge, and then they will no longer be tangling your fur."

Aolrkhea' transfers the message from Aiwi on her board to her hand computer, and reads it. "Fa'eairl. Notify me discreetly but immediately of any developments. Do not vocalize sensitive data in the presence of patients."

The soft female voice replies, quietly. _As you direct. Processing continues according to the executive officer's instructions._

"I would like a status update on the main power plant and its dedicated fuel reserves. If we remain at full battle power, return the plant to alert standby operation."

_As you direct. Downscaling all systems to alert standby now...._

"Hfolraw, Aolrkhea'. I will be busy keeping an eye on the guests for a while yet. You and Uhwaikh will have to watch the bridge. If you need me, I will most likely be in the sickbay. Do not be alarmed if Fa'eairl turns down the output on our reactor, it is returning to normal alert status to conserve fuel."

Activating her commdot: "Bridge, Aolrkhea'. I am escorting the guests to the forward crew lounge. I will be in that location. Out."

Aolrkhea' then brightly says, "Simon Levy, Kara, if you would please follow me, we will go now to the crew lounge."

With a definite bounce, Kara seems curiously relieved to be getting out of the perturbing sickbay and its plethora of prodding probes for peering into people. There is a definite spring in her step, and Dr. Khea' doesn't need any instruments to be able to see that her blood pressure has dropped since the examination began.

Aolrkhea' leads the guests through the strangely curving corridors of the _Trakh_, taking her time for them to slowly make their way. One thing which the survivors might notice is the apparent newness of the ship. Not only is all the equipment kept in condition with military neatness, but it also appears to be of very recent manufacture.

Going up a deck, they eventually reach the forward crew lounge. Large environmental holodisplays on the curved walls are displaying a tropical scene from somewhere on Kusyu, making the room seem larger than it is. The room is comfortably appointed for four Aslan crewpersons. One wall has a food dispenser as well as utilities to serve, but not make, meals manually. One complex machine that looks something like a cross between a Vargr-built motorcycle engine, percolator, and Klein bottle appears to be intended to make some hot Aslan drink, judging by the steam rising off of it. The air near it has a rich, spicy odor. Distant calls of alien wildlife sound in the room as if echoing from the trees through the holodisplay "windows".

Along the edges of the walls are more of the beautiful yoyeokhtef like that seen elsewhere in the ship, flowing across the various sweeping surfaces dramatically in places, in others more unobtrusive. Assorted cushions and backed chairs are secured against acceleration in various places.

"Please make yourself comfortable," Aolrkhea' says. "I do not have the authority to offer you si'iaktae, but I can prescribe refreshments to you in a medical capacity, as I do not doubt you desire them." She smiles slightly. "The admiral keeps a full...dispenser of hkyadwaeh prepared -- that is what humans call "bitter-root" or "Muleskick tea". You might find it slightly intoxicating. If you would prefer something sweeter and without the side-effects, we also have some iyhoafyuai juice which you might enjoy instead. Ask me before you use the food dispenser, as there are some foodstuffs in there which would not agree with your metabolisms."

Kara sits in a large acceleration couch, glad of furniture that is designed for an occupant with a tail. She mimicks Aolrkhea''s word carefully. "Iyhoafyuai juice will be fine, thank you. I'd better keep my head straight... if only to watch my pronunciation..." She then adds quietly in Gveg "And my manners."

After this is taken care of, the Aslan doctor continues, in a gentle voice:

"If you would like to tell me about what you remember from your mishap, perhaps we can discern what occurred. If not, there are many other things we can discuss. Please understand that there are a few matters that it is not for me to tell you, such as our current navigational position -- or at least our last known one -- which you may ask of the admiral when he returns."

"Well Doctor, I was a passenger aboard the vessel Glory of Efate." Kara closes her eyes as she recalls the specs on the ship "Long liner class. One thousand ton vessel: jump four, 1G maneuver, Power plant: eight hundred ninety five megawatts. Computer: model four. Lightly armed: one laser, one missile rack, one sandcaster. Streamlined: purification plant installed. Crew of fourteen, twenty four passengers."

Kara continues with the air of one at a military debriefing. "We were departing Kaesear, that's one eight two two Vland. Destination: Karfir: one eight two five Vland. We were just about to hit the one hundred diameter point when the ship was jumped. Took some damage to the engines. Captain Makiru ordered the ship to jump."

As Kara relates the orginal location and destination of the lost liner, Khea''s reaction might seem mild for what she has just been told -- her eyes widen somewhat, and she emits a short huff. *Ya'ui! That position is in the core of the RVE! I didn't find any head injuries on her...but if she's crrect, that would break the current theory on hyperspace transit dynamics...as did those incoming misjumps...hrrr....* She listens patiently to the rest of Kara's tale.

"Evidently, we misjumped because (A) we do not seem to be at Karfir, and (B) we spent 8 days in jump. We had just transited into normal space when there was an explosion. I was in my cabin at the time of the explosion. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the liiiife-pod."

She turns and looks seriously, at Aolrkhea', "I don't know how many other pods laaaunched."

She pauses. "Simon Levy, there is a fresher just outside the lounge on your left, facing aft, where you can...attempt to regain your honor. If there is anything you will require to do so properly, I can have it brought here. Please do not enter the room on your right."

Kara's nose wrinkles at the pungent scent, as she admires the holo-scenery of the lounge. She quietly mutters in Gveg, "Gurf! What a stinker."

The aslan doctor sits calmly on her cushion a moment, seeming to digest the new information, deciding what to tell them. "We did not detect the wreck of your liner until after it entered system. I do not know how many lifepods were released. Yours was the only one we detected in free space, but others might have landed safely. This is not unreasonable, since the _Alcyon_ is also treating some survivors. Hopefully, we will be able to reunite you with your fellow travelers soon. For now, you are alive, recovering, and relatively safe aboard the _Trakh_." *At least, as safe as one might hope with a maniac hisol'iyauist and his aikoho testing the boundaries of our territory,* she adds silently.

She looks "out" one of the holopanels into the dripping rain forest before continuing. "I can tell you this. You are very far from the place you left, somewhere in the poorly charted deeps of the Great Rift. I can't say much more than that without orders. What else would you like to talk about?"

Kara's ears fold back. "The Rift? At closest apporach, that's at least fifty to sixty pars... Just a moment... We're obviously much closer to the Hirate..."

Karas eyes and ears focus directly on Aolrkhea'. A golden stare peers into the aslan's eyes. "What Sector are we in? Surely, THAT can't be classified informaaation."

Simon comes out of the 'fresher, his clothing clean and dry and most of the smell gone. (A little practical application of the scrubber and fur preeners.) He responds.

"Could you please tell me a little about Aslan culture and customs?

"You are first of this species of sentient that I have had the fortune to encounter, and I find myself totally at a loss. I truly want to understand you, so that we might have meaningful exchange, rather than me being an intellectual child, sucking on your teat.

Kara makes a curious growling chuckle, but says nothing.

"By the way, I love the forest," Simon continues.

"I'll start, if you don't mind. I had a small family. One mother, one father, no siblings. They lavished all they could afford on me, but always seemed a little distant, never giving me the kind of affection that I truly craved.

"I was born and raised on a satellite outpost in an asteroid belt of a system near Deneb. Most of the social interaction I had was with belters, bartenders, courtesans, and rich tourists. Let's just say it had a profound effect on my choice of career--a choice I'm reconsidering in light of recent events.

Kara's confused and worried scowl deepens as she listens to Simon. She growls softly in Gveg, *Every time I think I know human scent...*

"But, please, you have a turn, too. I want to know what makes us alike and what makes us different. Aside from the obvious, like I actually _enjoy_ eating citrus fruit. :=)"

With that, Simon will sag slowly into one of the chair/chouches or whatever they've provided and sit quietly.

The expression on Dr. Aolrkhea''s face is quite unreadable at these last few sentences. *Not again. Inquisitive fiyfiyalr!*

Kara rises from the accel couch and walks over to Simon. "Weeell, Mr. Levy... Simon... you don't wanna hear about me. It's a booring story." Her tail wags and she attempts a human-like smile which only succeeds in showing a lot of teeth to the disoriented merchant. "But perhaps our host is better at telling stooories?"

She pats his head and ruffles the human's hair with a hand full of claws. She then turns to the doctor. "Perhaps you could get something a bit stronger for him? Some of that Mules-milk tea, perhaps?

As Simon told his story, Aolrkhea' seemed to listen intently, watching him from her cross-legged, straight-backed stance on her backless cushion. She doesn't seem to notice Kara's comments, and in fact doesn't even break her gaze from Simon's face. She waits for a moment after Kara finishes, almost as if she is waiting to see if Simon is going to react. When he doesn't do anything, she begins without breaking her gaze. On seeing her navigational questions and concerns ignored, Kara grows silent.

"Thank you, Simon Levy, for your praise of our holographic display. The view which you are currently observing was taken in an undeveloped tropical rain forest, in land owned by the Khaukeairlko on the homeworld's Hroliarl continent.

"There are many interesting life-forms in the area...if you watch carefully, you may see some of the region's larger predators.

"Your desire to learn of other sophonts speaks well of you. We of the Ftierle -- called 'Aslan' by humaniti -- are a vital, civilized, honorable race. We are very closely tied to our families, prides, and clans. We settle disputes inside the family. The ship you are aboard is of clan Khaukeairl, second most powerful member of the Twenty-Nine, the council of our most important clans." This she says with not a little pride.

On realizing that Aolrkhea' is now totally ignoring Kara, her questions, even her concern for Simon, Kara seethes silently. With some effort, her ears remain politely focused on the speaker, but her hackles rise sharply in spite of her strained self control. A soft growl in Gveg says something about female ftierle kfaegzoukhin or a lack of it.

"There are a few things you need to know while you are here. Be careful not to show your teeth in public -- especially if you feel like yawning. It might be taken as a challenge. Do not discuss money with a male; they simply don't understand the concept, and will be annoyed at you. Try to honorably avoid a challenge from an annoyed ftierle, but if you are challenged, do not refuse. Despite what you may have seen in Imperial holo-thrillers, usually our duels of honor are only to 'first blood'. And I am sure that you already know about the way we view gender roles differently that you humans. For instance, it is not very honorable to...insult a member of the opposite sex in order to force a challenge, or to duel them.

"Hrrr...there is more that you should understand about us than I could tell you in even a few khtauaao. I strongly recommend that you read _Siyreakhaotoior_, an epic telling many of our classic legends and stories, from which you might learn much about the way we live, and think, and die. One of the best ways to understand an alien culture, Simon Levy, is to study their art and what they have recorded about themselves. I have and old but good translation of the work into Galanglic written by an Aslan from Monterey-Tiwyoeya, which is of much better quality than most of the human translations which you will find. If you would like, you may have a copy on holocrystal before you leave the _Trakh_.

Simon will repress a smile (kind of), carefully keeping his lips closed, and nod.

"It would be pleasant if humans could learn to be honorable again, as they were in the days of the great Yaku Barroda. Today, it seems all humans strive to greedily gather all glory to themselves, without patience, without allegiance to their own clan leaders. That need not be."

Ears twitch to catch every word, but Kara makes no comment.

When she has finished, Simon answers.

"Thank you ever somuch for the book. I would dearly love to read it. As for your last comment, Imust completely agree. Even we humans have sayings to this effect..." And then he drifts into silence, obviously contemplating something, he hasn't quite figured out how to put into words yet.

"What is a challenge? Is this how you settle disputes? How do you challenge yourself?"

A burst of trokh interrupts the conversation, and Khea' quickly answers it. In trokh: "I relinquish your position. Welcome back, Aiwi. I will find out the position of our guests immediately. Please pause a breath."

She speaks again to her guests. "That is the executive officer. She says that if you like, we can now reunite you with some of your fellow travelers from the _Glory of Efate_. They await you aboard the _Alcyon_, whenever you are ready. What would you like me to tell her?"

Kara attempts to control the snarl that is building in her voice. "Perhaps that'd be best. I *was* under the impression your admiral wished to speak with us. If we're being transshiped, I'd *appreciate* my possessions retuuuuuuuuuurned."

Aolrkhea' looks concernedly at Kara, and replies in a relaxed, diplomatic tone. "Yes, Kara, Admiral Akhouw really would like to talk to you. But he also knows that you are very concerned about the status of your fellow companions. It is probable that he is not yet able to come back and talk to you himself, but he also would not have you wait for him while he completes his work. By no means are you being forcibly transshipped and it is your decision whether or not you wish to visit them now, of course. If you would like to have your possessions transferred to the _Alcyon_, I could ask the exec to have it arranged for you immediately. It may be that you will be returning here eventually, and the transfers would be pointless. So, what shall I tell her?"

Kara's tone softens back to its normal sweet contralto growl, "If we're permitted to return, the issue isn't critical." She brushes her paws over her rumpled taylored vac suit. "I prefer to change out of my uniform. So if I may have access to my clothes, some privacy and a moment, it's time we find out how many survivors there are."

At Aolrkhea''s nod, Kara ducks into the fresher for a moment.

Kara remerges quickly from the fresher looking quite different. The full fitting vac suit replaced by a fire engine red leather mini-skirt and low cut black leather vest with silver piping. The straps of her long thigh length black go-go boots have been synched up tight forming leather stockings. She still wears the gauss needle necklace and her white uniform cap.

Her previously hidden fur is bright white with a very light cream on her back, save for her paws and tail tip which are jet black. Aolrkhea' now notices that the red and black circles on the left arm Kara's uniform are also dyed into the fur of her arm along with the dyed red and black fur of her ears.

Simon puts in hastily, "Kara, while I for one would love to stay here until our gracious hosts are more than willing to space me, I do not and suspect you do not, have all of the information that these (and his voice does snarl a little) _Admirals_ have.

"I have worked with humans too long to even know for sure if the _person_ on the other end of that tunnel is really an admiral. The only sentient I've seen to BE an admiral is Akhouw.

"In short, I trust these Aslan a LOT more than I trust humans I haven't met yet. I don't know why. I don't even know if I should. Please remember it was _humans_ after all who got us spaced the first time.

"Maybe we should wait and see what our various hosts would have us do. That is my choice--to make no choice until I'm confident of my own mind and spirit--to trust in the gentle care of the ones who saved me. Please do not be hasty."

Kara nods encouragingly at Simon. "Simon, since we may return, I suggest we investigate the other vessel. The other passengers and crew may need our assistance. And we do have a duty to theeem." She looks Simon in the eye and lowers her voice. "Besides, I think we may find a few answers over theeere. Stay on your... toes." Kara pronounces the last word with a bit of uncertainty while glancing at her own feet.

She nods to Aolrkhea'. "Leeeeead on."

---

In and out.....In and Out......that familiar red haze pulsing like a warning beacon.

*Ohhhh...I feel so sore....*

Limbs like lead, head like a drum, someone come and get me.

*Ohhhh...maybe all of those religious fanatics were right...there is a hell.*

The taste of iron in his mouth, a rigid feeling through his guts, the taste of iron now a sensation of hot iron through his abdomen, along his limbs, in his veins.

*They finally caught up with me. They're using psionics, now, trying to pry everything out of my head. Maybe they're just using a big syringe to suck it all out through a tiny hole....*

The red haze continues to pulse, slowing in beat but intensifying, turning whiter and whiter with each pulse.

*How long do you have to stay in hell?* wonders Casey Rednisky.

Blackness... Blackness... Blackness... Red? Red? Red? Where am I? What am I doing here? How many toes do Dynchia have? Hmm?

Eight miles high... Oh how is it that I can And when you come down, Come out to here You'll find that it's And be still... Floating... Stranger than known... And never hit bottom and keep falling through When I'm relaxed and paying attention....

I wonder... just what would happen... If I opened my eyes... Yeah, that sounds like an interesting idea... Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee! Lookit all the pretty colors! Wow!

Triple three, you're turning green. Stop it. Hmm... I seem to be in pain? Oh well, that's ok. Now this IS a strange room... I don't think I've been here before... No... I haven't. I wonder where I am? Well it will be fun finding out... If I can just...

Can't move.

Can't Move. Wind shear!

Triple three moves forward and adjusts the level of anesthetic coursing into Tweel's blood.

Krrr.... feeling closer to reality... can see reality from here...

Triple Three, we need to find out more about this ship we're on. Begin mapping her out with your sensors...

Where's Oscar? Call him here... Better still, patch in his sensors to your holodisplay.

The Alcyon's drive room appears on 333's holodisplay, as Oscar hover's over Christian.

"One pill makesss you largerrr... And one pill makesss you sssmall... And the oness that Chrrristian givesss you... Don't do anything at all...

Go ask-k-k IASIC When ssshe's te-ten feet tall...

When logic-ic and prrroportion Have fallen sslowly dead and the Vargr isss talking backwarrrds... And the Admiral'sss off hiss head.. RRRREEMEMBERRRR! What the Hoop-Rrring said: Feed yourrr head! Feed yourrr head! FEED YOURRR HEAD!"

"Aye, sir, enroute the sickbay." Jan grabs his small bag of personal diagnostic equipment and heads rapidly towards the sickbay.

"Christian, this is Jan, " he calls over his commdot," where do you want me, 'Vouf is under the impression you have a mass casualty going on."

Not receiving any reply, Jan continues headlong into the sickbay.

In ancient Terran societies, one particular form of execution involved attaching chains to each arm and leg of the condemned and then having wild horses pull each chain. That is analogous to how Christian feels, between all the demands on his attention. Crisis on the Bridge, crisis in Engineering, a FEW of them in Sickbay... (and he doesn't know about the mutiny yet...)

The immense Alcyon fusion plant is humming along fine; fortunate that Pater can monitor that, as Christian's efforts to put the thruster plates online is thereby made easier. The task is uncomplicated and completed with commendable speed, albeit slowed a tad by Christian's keeping an eye on his bridge holo monitor. The sudden transition to NeverNeverLand rates one raised eyebrow, and when he hears of the "incident" in Jump Engineering, that rates a double eyebrow raising. A few final taps at the m-drive controls are accompanied by muttering about retiring to a country estate and imbibing mint juleps...

A step towards OSF is interrupted by Tweel's chirping from OSF's speakers. "Good morrrning, Chrrisstian. I think you overrdid it with the anessthetic-tic-tic. When you find a moment could you te-te-tell me jussst wherre in the windss am I?"

"Glad to see you are awake, Hunter-Above; you're on the Alcyon, Turnskaad's main ship. I'm heading back to Sickbay, so do me a favor, sit tight and cut the chatter, I have.." Christian massages his temples briefly. "..three patients who need attention, assuming nobody on any of the other ships got hurt. Christian out." A certain weary exasperation colors his voice. He wasn't tired, physically, but the stresses were engendering a definate yearning for some quiet conversation, a leisurely dinner... The thought of getting back together with the others cheered him up, a little, animating his gestures.

"Ok-k-k-k, Chrrristiannn... By the way... Why isss yourrrr face neon blue?"

Christian palms open the door and favors OSF with a wry smile. "Okay, OSF, same drill -- take me back to Sickbay, ASAP!" OSF slowly glides out the door, and picks up speed as he heads back down the hallway, as Christian is firmly held in a metallic embrace. Christian seems to smile as they race along the corridor. "Gaaaannngggwayyyyyy..."

Aaron haut-Freider flattens himself against a wall as Van Der Merwe and OSF-4 go shooting by. "He's in Sickbay, Doctor," Aaron calls after him. "I'll cover Engineering now." In a much softer voice: "Roadhog."

He peels himself off the wall and heads back to Engineering, pausing long enough to grab his uniform off a peg in his quarters.

Arriving back at St. Elsewhere, Christian adroitly hops to the deck as OSF releases his charge and glides back to his master in the cabin. Christian stands ready by the door, in tense anticipation of what Aaron and Dulinor might be bringing. He spares a moment to eye the patient status monitor, noting with satisfaction the progressing recovery of his surgical patient and the good status of the other two. Still some knitting and repair to do, but nothing critical. The unknown patient, well, time would tell...

The new patient is already regaining consciousness in Medbay Three when Christian arrives. He has NO apparent injuries, just a scraped hand where he fell. But his clothing is startling-- it's a Navy Intelligence uniform that hasn't been in style for well over a hundred years. The name tag says "Greyson."

Christian walks over to the patient with a firm step, pausing at the table to extract a portable scanner. While he pays particular attention to the Greyson's head/neck region, his other hand calls up Dulinor's scan data for display on the bed's HUD. He waits in tense anticipation for the scan results, telling him the patient's overall condition and indicating the probable cause for his dissipating unconsciousness.

"Wait here a moment, Dulinor. I may need you when he regains consciousness, these military types sometimes react... unpredictably." He glances at the prostrate form as he waits for the scan results, and suddenly he sees that it's not just Navy, it's an old INTEL uniform. Christian's gut tightens in reflexive anger, but a slight clenching of the jaw and a narrowing of the eyes are the only external signs. Audibly, he takes a deep breath and concentrates upon the medical task at hand, pushing old emotions aside.

A moment later, OSF returns, hovering poloitely nearby. "Excuse me Doctor, but Assistant Robot Three Three Three requests that the partial pressure of oxygen be increased in this compartment." The robot's voder distorts as it tries to pronounce his master's name "Dr. _Trrrweeerrrlll_ seems to be ill at ease due the low pressure, and high gravity of the Alcyon combined with the medications currently in his system."

As if to emphisize the point, the gargling-whistle of the drugged up scientist echoes down the hall: "And if you go... chasing rrringworrldssss... And you know you'rrre going t-t-to falll... T-t-tell 'em a hooka-ka-ka smoking Assslan hasss given you the calll

And call IASSSSIC When ssshe wasss jusst ssmalll!"

Christian favors the door of his cabin with a sharp glance. "Ill? Hrm. That's not quite how I'd put it..." He directs his voice to the nearest intercom pickup. "Pater, adjust environment in CMO cabin to Ael Yael standard." A shrewd glance at the cabin door. "...and increase soundblock of CMO cabin within Ael Yael frequency ranges."

As PATER rapidly makes the adjustments with destructive interferance to silence the shrill trillings of the unsteady scientist, a last sound is heard from the CMO's cabin:

"At-at-attention all handsss! Becaussse another cigarrette butt was found in the Admirral'sss palm trree, therre will be no movie again tonight! SSSEEYA! SSSEEYA! Ssseya! ssseya! ss..."

With the painkillers kicking in Tar begins to feel a little better but then... "what the heck? Must be another patient in the other room...I hope"

"More bodies, thats at least five now, I wonder where the good doctor is?... Ahh there he...*gulp* wait a minute doctors do not fly around dangling on warbots. This sure is one strange ship I'm on, and I'm still in sickbay. Tar waits until the doctor looks up from his new patient and asks

"Excuse me sir? I don't mean to be a bother, but what ship is this and where are we? And also when can I get up from the sickbed. No great rush just curious...And thank you."

Still waiting for his data on Greyson, Christian catches Tar's eye and looks over at him. The good Doctor seems somewhat bemused by the sudden interruption. "Mister, unless you crashed your ship just to give me work, you are no bother, and no thanks are necessary. It's always a relief to be able to save life." He glances back at Greyson's monitor and continues. "As for all this, (gesturing to the deck and ceiling), you are aboard the Turnskaad Jump Tender _Alcyon_, and this is my own humble Sickbay." He frowns slightly. "..but you still need to relax there for a while, the body takes exception to crash trauma as a rule." He smiles. "But you needn't shut up just yet, so relax and enjoy my hospitality..."

The results of Greyson's scans glow into existence on his bed holo-monitor. Christian scans down the list, nothing abnormal, except.... He frowns, and ties Pater's main memory banks into the local Sickbay computer. The monitor beeps softly when the pattern match is complete. Christian looks shocked and becomes a few shades paler. His voice is an unsteady whisper. "Lanth fever..." His hands become a blur, as he accesses the bed's integral sensors. A faint hum emanates from the bed and Greyson is bathed in a blue glow.

A second later, the glow fades. Christian intently stares at the monitor, then visibly relaxes and breathes out a very deep sigh of relief. He looks at the initial scan results and is relieved to find nothing ELSE is amiss.

Tar asks,"Crash on purpose? Not quite, just remind me not to take Tukera Lines for a while. Is this a scientific mission then? What was all that squawking about ships and I've never seen a warbot used quite for that purpose before. You must excuse me, my mouth runneth over. But my imagination is quite fired, and I usually like to know what I am in for."

Christian looks over at Tar as if he's not quite sure how to answer him. "Well, yes, I suppose this IS a scientific mission... or at least that's the way it started out." He stops and considers his next sentence. "It's a very long and complicated story, and with all these late arrivals, I think we'll have to set up a briefing crystal for all of you. You probably wouldn't believe half of it until you've seen it for yourself..."

He checks on Greyson again, and is reassured by the readings. Turning back to Tar, he smiles. "Yeah, I'd never used a warbot taxi myself, but urgent times do wonders for the imagination. Oh, the ships? Well.. (cough) You REALLY won't believe that one. I hope it's the LAST Solomani heavy strike fleet *I* ever see..."

Sickbay was quiet, finally. Christian sighed and rubbed his chin. At least now he had a Sickbay full of living and recovering beings. He much preferred it that way. His kindly gaze swept over the scene, resting for a few moments on each patient, confirming their status. Rednisky, rapidly on the mend from that intensive internal surgery, slowly, slowly working the general anaesthetic out of his tissues. Tar Berana and Lee Tiblisi, each letting their body rest a bit and recover from the crash. Then there was Greyson, resting comfortably after that sedative; wherever HE'D come from, it had been a shock to his system and a brief rest would do him good.

Christian arched his back and stretched back and forth a few times, feeling his back muscles relax, producing a very welcome feeling. He rubbed his hands together, going over a mental list. Not much to do for the moment, except for that staff meeting. He bent down to the local computer terminal, typing in a note to have PATER remind him when that cursed meeting was over; he'd look in again on Sickbay and consider getting Lee and Tar ambulatory for a short walk, to see how they could handle it.

After a few steps in the direction of his cabin, Christian stops short and scowls at the door, as he remembers he's let Tweel have his cabin for the moment. He'd wait until after the meeting, at least, before thinking about getting Tweel to a cabin of his own. Pivoting away from the cabin, Christian mutters something about needing a drink, but before he could get very far in the direction of the exit, his eyes come to rest on another door. This one is labeled LOW BERTH.

This time, Christian seems frozen in mid-stride. Recollection floods through his neural pathways as his eyes reflect the sudden memory... BISHOP! "Kakh! How could I FORGET?" Christian vocalizes his astonishment. Quickly, he snaps out of his reverie and quick time marches to the door in nervous uncertainty. A moment for the door to slide withdraw, then Christian is walking, almost running to the first row of berths, partway down.... THERE!

Smell is supposed to be the most developed sense humans have. Smell is supposed to be the only sense fully developed when a human baby is born.

And it was the odours Casey Rednisky first noticed on his painful crawl back to consciousness.

Traces of antiseptics, traces of blood, that vague 'snap' in the air, left over when a sterile field has been used.

Because of the sensitivity of his eyes, the red glare beyond his eyelids was the next thing Casey noticed, followed quickly by the sounds of chit chat, between a patient and a doctor, apparently.

Neither voice was one he recognized. Shortly the sound of a sliding door, and all was quiet again.

Jan enters Sickbay. It sure looks like a lot of activity has happened, but nothing currently underway. Christian must be zonked out after whatever happened, happened. Four patients, where the hell'd they all come from. Let's see, shipwreck, who knows they could've come from the Hoop as far as Jan could tell. He heads towards the noise coming from the medical low berth area.

As he awakened, Casey took mental stock.

*I'm lying down, not wearing my clothes. I'm not restrained, so I must be with friendlies...for now anyway.*

As Casey reaches a hand up to his face, he notices the 'remote' feeling of his limbs, a sure sign that some kind of pain number is in use.

Fumbling around his face, Casey finds his glasses are not perched on his face. Swallowing to loosen his throat, Casey croaks into the room...

"Uhhmmm...does anyone see a pair of blackened glasses, lying around?"

A brilliant flash of light. Why did there always have to be that damned flash of light? Greyson thought about all the times he had exerienced a blinding light in his days, and not one of them was ever followed by a positive outcome.

He had only a faint idea of what was going on around him. Somehow, he had dazed off for a second while in the security corridor. One of his corporals had called out to him to duck. Then there was the light. It only lasted for a split second, but it had obviously been enough to stun him. By the time he finally regained his senses, he thought he saw two intruders. But the data his eyes were feeding him didn't make any sense. The corridor had gone dark, and the walls had somehow disappeared. He had a falling sensation, but managed to catch himself before he fainted. But what caused him the most confusion was the fact that one of the intruders seemed to be wearing nothing more than boxer shorts. That, and the fact that he looked like something out of Sword Worlder mythology.

The next thing he remembered was firing his weapon toward the direction of his would-be assailant that the corporal had warned him about. Much to Greyson's surprise, however, no one was there. In fact, he could have sworn he had just plunged three slugs into a jump drive... but he knew that this was impossible.

Then all went black. This was the usual afterevent of one of those bursts of light that he hated so much. He tried to blink, but his eyes would not budge. His entire body began to tingle.

"Greyson," he heard. Someone was calling his name. He tried to respond, to at least see who it was who was addressing him, but to no avail.

His next memory was that of floating down a corridor. Now he knew he was hallucinating. Greyson knew he was most definitely not capable of floating down corridors. He thought he spied the word "sickbay" on the door he was floating through, but given his state of mind, he couldn't be certain of anything. *Oh well,* he thought, *at least the sickbay is the place I'd want to be if I started floating for no reason...*

Again, there was darkness.

The next voice he heard was mostly garbled, though a few words did manage to penetrate into his consciousness.

"...aboard the Turnskaad Jump Tender _Alcyon_, and this is my own humble sickbay..."

*At least my hallucination is showing some consistency.* he thought to himself before nodding back into unconsciousness.

Then, he heard the words, "Lanth fever", which evoked some memories of another sickbay on another ship at a different time. The memories were far too vivid for his own comfort. He remembered the hellish fever and the neverending cold sweat; the IVs feeding him because his throat was completely swelled; the tube burrowed into his trachea, allowing him to breathe. He remembered how everything he saw seemed to be passing through a yellow gauze, the words through a meter of water. It was an unpleasant memory, and one he happily suppressed.

Sometime later, he heard the same voice he recognized from before,

"I'd never used a warbot taxi myself, but urgent times do wonders for the imagination..."

At this, he remembered back to his days on Zhdant, Lazh'var, Dradz... He remembered staring down the barrel of a berserk Zhodani warbot as it levelled its weapon straight at him. He remembered thinking that if he died now, he'd never be able to stop the assassination of the proconsul. The thought of failing a man who he respected above all others he had met over the entire assignment filled him with rage.

He remembered how he channelled that rage, focusing it into positive will...

"Oh, the ships?... I hope it's the LAST Solomani heavy strike fleet *I* ever see..."

*Solomani strike fleet* he thought. *Somehow, those ingrateful, scheming, Solomani worms were attacking the Marches!* This enraged him, but he could do nothing. A haze seemed to be surrounding his very thoughts... as if he were under some sort of drug.

*I MUST overcome this. I WILL overcome this.* Greyson began to channel his thoughts together. He started to pull the many fragments of his shattered memory back into one cohesive frame. As he cleared his mind, he could feel his heartbeat regaining a normal rhythm. He reclaimed his own breathing, concentrating upon that... controlling it himself. Slowly, resolutely, he brought it all together, back under his own control.

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