The TML PBeM

1992, Turn 3 - Part 10 (of 11)

Alcyon CMO Cabin

Christian runs into the cabin, nearly flying into the cabin wall in the lighter gravity. As the door shuts behind him, he recovers himself, resolving to step lightly for the moment. He smiles reassuringly at Tweel. "Hello, old friend. Sorry to burst in on you like this, but I need a minute to freshen up before the big command meeting." He waves at Tweel to stay perched where he is as Christian steps forward. "No no, you stay there, your sutures need more time."

Moving only his talons to swing him around, Tweel manages to swing around to face the good doctor. "Chrrristian... Grrreat Hunterrr, am I glad to sssee you. Got sssomething forrr you..." He glares briefly at the security camera. "Sssomething I don't wissh to ssharre with yourr 'frrriendss'. Give me yourr hand comp forr a moment..."

Christian absentmindedly hands his computer over, as requested, while he quickly completes his freshening up.

Christian busies himself at the fresher for a few moments, and when he stands up again he looks very much refreshed. He dusts off his black uniform, and gives his medals a quick polish. A few dabs of beard repressor completes his maneuvers as he stares back at himself in the mirror. His eyes suddenly became steely with his determination to argue his case and defend his friend to the last.

He thoughtfully pauses for a moment, then activates his dot and speaks quietly. << VDM to Farouk -- if you have someone in Security who's tactful, preferably an ex-Marine too, could you detail him to Sickbay for a while? We have a number of patients down here whom we don't know much about, yet, and one of them in particular is an, um, unusual Imperial Marine. They all could use a quick run-down on Alcyon security, since they're here to stay, for now. He can talk to Dr. Yorblin if he's got any questions. See you at the meeting. VDM out. >>

Tweel ignores Christian for a moment, typing hurriedly into his hand comp. "I don't trrrust yourr intercom... And I don't like being sspyed on... Sssoo..."

In the midst of a quick face wash, Christian can be heard to mutter, "Nor do I, Doctor. Some of us cherish our privacy..."

When he turns back to Tweel, the change in his mood is evident. Christian almost seems to be girded for a battle, as if he were a knight of old. "Hunter Above... Tweel... I know you are very angry, and very scared, but trust in me. I owe you my life, and I will not let you down now. Trust me, Tweel. Try and calm down. Please?"

Tweel chuckles, "Angrry? Ssseeya!" Tweel stops typing, considers his temper a moment and laughs, "I'm furriouss. But thiss iss not a laughing matterr... Take a look at thiss and ssee if *you* arrre so calm..."

Tweel hands Christian back his hand comp. Then leans back to study the human face for reaction.

Christian reaches out for his hand computer, with an expression of curious concern.

---

Subject: Computer Recon, Initial Contact

During a brief intrusion into the main computer system of the Alcyon, I have found recognizable circuitry indicative of known Zhodani circuit designs. The intrusion was quite brief and very little penetration was achieved. This would seem to indicate that Zhodani elements exist throughout the system.

Therefore, this computer system may have been designed with assistance from the Zhodani consulate. I should point out that unauthorized high-technology transfer to the Zhodani Consulate is a high justice crime in the Imperium. Turnskaad may be a non-imperial corporation, but if it is exchanging information with the Zhodani, they are restricted in what business they may do inside the Imperium.

Since some form of information exchange may be postulated bettween the Zhodani Consulate and Turnskaad, I find it highly possible that the information gained by the Turnskaad expedition to the Ringworld may end up in the talons of the Zhodani.

Dr. Krrresh Trrrweeeerrrlll (a flowing script design follows beneath in Tweel's hand)

---

Tweel looked at Christian seriously, "I sssuggest, that you show this to Mr. Bhyarrvouf..."

Christian frowns, as if he were considering a subject he'd not considered very important, until now. He looks up at Tweel. "I can't say for sure, Tweel, but I don't THINK they have anything to do with the Zhodani. Our initial briefing indicated that the expedition was receiving backing from decidedly pro-Imperial sources. I haven't seen anything to contradict that, yet. I know Vouf will want to talk with you later, I would suggest that you let him know of your suspicion then." He sighs. "Just don't let your imagination run away with you... We'll have it all out, after the meeting. Just stay calm for now, and relax, if you can."

Tweel eyes the security camera and puts his talons out to quiet Christian's tone. "Do you think they would te-te-tell you if theirrr windss werre quessstionable?"

Christian becomes very thoughtful. When he speaks, his voice is very calm and quiet. He looks up at Tweel after gazing at the deck for a long moment. "I don't know if Turnskaad would. But I *know* that Vouf would, especially where the Zhodani are concerned..."

Tweel sighs gustily, "I begin t-t-to wonder about him." One of Tweel's leg talons digs further into the ruined seat back. "But I am in a cloudbank of angerrr. I hope I am wrrrong."

Christian's answer is firm and unequivocal. "I *know* how he feels about the Zhodani, Hunter Above, as surely as you know how to fly. Have no storms on that issue."

"Zzzhodani, yess. But otherrr matterrrsss I do not know." Tweel shuts his beak shut with a loud snap. "I do not *Like* following orrderrs. I do not *Like* flying forrmation on ssomeone I don't know if I can trrusst."

The Ael glances at the camera again and chooses his words carefully. "Thisss may mean sssomthing, it may not. I need morre inforrrmation on the system in quesstion to deterrmine morre. But I would have you assk yourrself: How much do you rreally *know* about Tailsskid Enterrrprisssesss?"

A pause. "Not enough, I guess..." He cocks an eye at Tweel. "Think about what you would need to figure things out, and I'll get back to you on this, ok?"

Count Ger's voice suddenly comes from Christian's commdot:

>"...This is commander Ger, We are awaiting you in the >conference room. Should we not get much better attendance, Mr. >Bhyarrvouf and I shall go through the agenda ourselves. >Ger out."

Christian activates his commdot. "I beg your indulgence, Commander. We've had a small emergency in Low Berth Three that is now under control. I will be there very shortly."

He waves goodbye to Tweel, then quick-time marches out the door.

As everyone starts to take stock in their new situation, Greyson also comes to terms with himself. Thinking about the top-secret project he was working on over 160 years ago, he says to himself, *Boy are the brass going to LOVE this. Their little toy worked a little TOO well. I can't wait to get back and see how things have changed. I wonder how much the Imperium has grown?*

As he speaks to the others, his tone isn't exactly threatening, but there is a strong sense of command behind his inquiries. His face shows a great deal of intensity, but does not seem at all hostile. The whole effect of hot and cold, strong and yeilding, aggressive and passive is quite unnerving.

"There must have been some changes over the last century and a half, eh? Who's the emporer now? How much has the Imperium expanded since Styrix? How did he turn out? I always had my doubts about him, but some of the top brass on base were confident that his advisors would get him up to speed. Did they ever appoint an Archduke Deneb?"

Then Greyson realizes that he's lapsed into his NI mode and straightens himself up again. Smoothing out his uniform and brushing his hair back, he takes a breath and continues.

"Sorry about that. I guess it's just too soon since I was on base doing debriefings."

He starts again, this time trying to fold his arms casually. He is clearly uncomfortable dealing with civilians. His questions still evince a hint of the previous intensity, but it is obvious, painfully obvious that he is trying desperately to tone down his military style. Despite his difficulties, he presses onward, putting his best face on for the others.

"Perhaps you could tell me something about yourselves, or if you please, answer my other questions about the Imperium. I'm actually pretty interested in what's happened since I've been gone."

"Murder." That one muttered word is almost lost among the sound of running feet. "Murder, murder, murder." Obviously trying it out for how it sounds. "Murder murder murder murder murder malpractice murder idiot murder brainfry murder brabble frammis murder murder MURDER!"

The steps scramble to a halt. "Ba-ha HEM!" A quick clearing of the throat and a hand through a shock of unruly hair. "I'm all right. I am a trained professional, and I can IGNORE the fact that I left behind 16-hour shifts in the Trauma Ward when the WAR ended. I'm not as young as I used to be, but I'm neither senile nor mad...yet...." And with that, the door opens.

Joachim Tabor strides in, all professionalism and calm. "Relieving you, Doctor," he says to van der Merwe. "Better get to that meeting before the Elf has you for lunch. Respectful greetings, Jan. Anything vital I should see before I review the charts?" He then nods to the assembled wounded, pausing for a long, searching glance at Bishop.

Christian is QUITE relieved to see a relief arrive, and such is clear by his quick wave at Doctor Tabor. "Great timing, Joachim. Sorry to cut and run... Hope I won't be long!" He hands off Adrian's chart as he speeds through through Sickbay and out the door to the close-by grav lift. His uniform, jet-black with gold piping along the seams and a deep blue collar, is now spotless; the silver stars on his shoulder boards, as well as the gold medallion of the Order of Starship and Crown, are bright with a new polish. A very sharp-eyed observer can see that the silver cloak and dagger insignia attached to the OSC ribbon is also bright with the shipboard illumination.

"I'm Joachim Tabor, Medical Team. I must say this isn't as much of a disaster area as I'd expected to find from the intercom traffic, but **YOU**" He plants a palm firmly on Casey's chest and eases him back down onto his bed "Are not going anywhere just yet, unless you want your trauma worsened. The problem with high-tech surgery is that the patient wants to run a marathon before the scalpels have time to cool...."

"Thanks, Joachim. Yah, Christian kinda got excited about Bishop seizing. Bishop is now doped up. I'll do a quick look at him. I've already checked Dr. Rednisky's and CDR Greyson's charts and I'll fire up a care plan for them. Why don't you take a look at our two merchant friends in beds 3 and 4. Christian described them as stable with minor concussions, bumps, bruises, etcetera. If you have a chance after that, please check the suture work on the Ael Yael. Let me know how they look, and if we'll have to redo them." He sighs. "Suturing by an amateur-- THIS I have to see."

Hitting his commdot, "Christian, I know you're in a hurry, but could you advise the Ael Yael that _you_ are sending over a medic to look at his sutures, and to remain calm. Thanks."

<< Good point, Doctor Yorblin. VDM out. >> click << Tweel, a medic is going to come in for a few minutes to check on your sutures. Be a good patient, okay? >>

Tweel cocks his head and laughs, "Ssseya! Do I have a choice?

Christian's face crinkles in a reply smile. "No." He grins again as he turns off his commdot.

Tweel's eyes close. "Ssseya! Didn't think ssso."

Ralf drift/slithers down the zero-g tube with the ease of long practice. Just inside the lock he pauses for a moment, "Hi Pater, I'm back. 'ja miss me?"

_Hello, Ralf. I am incapable of 'missing' people, but I do note and appreciate the politeness of the gesture._

"Don't mention it."

Ralf begins the trek to sickbay, talking to Pater through his interface the while. "Please notify commander Vouf at his earliest convenience that I am dumping my sensor data from the Ring system as per his orders," accompanied by a datadump from the handheld, "but I have to go by sick bay before I can meet the others in the lounge to talk about our results."

_So noted. SubCommander Bhyarrvouf appears to be doing his imitation of three Vargr at once again, so it may be some time before he acknowledges your message._

"Yah, but I figured I should make the gesture."

"Please patch me through to the OOD. This is Ralf, please assign somebody to start clearing out the hold preparatory to docking the Bernoulli in it. Also, get somebody to start unmothballing the three Pioneer grav-carriers. If my other plans don't work we're going to have to do this the messy way."

Halfway to sickbay Ralf stops dead in his tracks. An observer might get the impression he'd smack himself in the head, if he did that sort of thing. "Pater, please relay to Charyn, or whoever it is from the contact team in the Talisman's lounge, that if they manage to talk to the dolphin enough to figure out its computer link, I'd apprecate being informed immediately." Ralf takes another step then stops. "This must be my day. Please suggest to Charyn that the dolphin's computer link may well be ultrasound-based. I scanned for everydamn EM reading I could but I forgot about ultrasound."

_Done. And done._

Ralf skims through his incoming mailbox as he trots down the length of the Alcyon towards sickbay. Johann's message flits past and Ralf fires off a reply...

]From: ralf@handcomp.talisman.turnskaad.pocketverse ]Subject: Re: Sensor Recordings ]To: johann@engrg.alcyon.turnskaad, dan@engrg.alcyon.turnskaad ]Date: 00:04:38 ]X-Mailer: ELM [version 234.3 PL11] ] ] Guys, ] Sorry I'm going to be late four our little tete-a-tete over the ] sensor logs, but I've got this 100-ton derelict to clean up after... ] Meanwhile, if you and Dan would like to take a preliminary look, the ] raw data is in /alcyon/engrg/ralf/sensor/logs/talisman.Z. ] ] Ralf

"No trouble." Joachim walks over to Tarmine and Lee. Before consulting the charts, he shakes hands with each of them and introduces himself. There's a Father-Christmas twinkle in his eye that tends to put patients at ease....

Tiblisi, watching him, thinks, *Last on the list? Of course, we were the least injured and do not require immediate care. Well, until we get to a place where Berana and Rednisky can get where they want, they are still passengers of Tukera and my responsibility.*

*It's uncanny how a doctor can be speaking only be a few feet away and yet you can never hear what they say. I guess that it helps preserve that "doctor patient confidentaility". It's not like I'm eavesdropping, I just want to make sure everything is OK. Well, if it wasn't, I'm sure the doctor would have gotten a little agitated and done something. So no action is a good sign.*

"Joachim Tabor. Let's see now, you must be Mister Berana, hm?"

"That's me," Tar smiles.

"All righty, let's have a look at you...." Moving quickly over Tar's body with a gentle touch here and there, tapping the patella for reflex tests, and checking for any obvious ruptures, Dr. Tabor eventually nods in satisfaction. "Not a bad way to survive a crash, young man."

"Just don't tell me I have to do it again."

Ralf glides into Sickbay soon after Christian has left and Yorblin has seen to Bishop's needs. Doctor Tabor looks up as he works on Berana and nods.

"Doc Tabor, good to see you again. If you'll recall you asked me to drop by so you could check my EEG. I see you have your hands full with patients, no problem. I should be here for a half an hour or so, unless I get orders to the contrary. Let's see, you have a patient from the Bernoulli around here somewhere, some sort of avian?"

"In there." Tabor cocks a thumb at the CMO's Office door. He glares at Ralf sourly. "I accessed your medical records and found out about your, ah, predilections. I suppose it's my own fault for not having checked first. But," he shrugs, "I've never worked on a wirehead before. Forget it."

Annoyance briefly clouds Ralf's expression for an instant, before he replies, deadpan, "Don' mention it." and adds with a grin "I'm used to dealing with quacks who don't know the full story."

Following the ruckus that's managed to seep past the sound-proofing, Ralf considers the cabin door. "Pater, could you give me an interior view of this compartment? Or patch me through to the security team, I need to talk to the occupant but from Vouf's comments just walking right in may not be, uhm, healthy."

A glance at a monitor shows that Tweel is perched on the back of a chair before a dead computer console. As the camera comes on his head is upside down pouring over data in a hand computer which is still attached to the dead terminal.

Ralf briefly considers and dismisses the idea of activating the console and taking a look at the hand computer. There have already been too many ruffled-ahem!

Painfully slowly, and with a great deal of effort, Tweel manages to unplug the hand comp from the terminal and plugs it into a nearby floating robot. The robot is of unknown design and is not of the typical assembly line ilk. More likely this is a lab assembled prototype of some sort. It is obviously quite new.

Ralf blinks. For an apparently rather bright avian, Tweel seems to lack common sense.

Off to one side, nearly out of the camera shot hovers a standard IISS issue OSF-4 Hostile Environment Surveyor robot. In contrast to the newer assistant robot, Oscar is a Very large robot and much older. There does appear to be some modifications built into the sensors with the addition of an NAS sensor replacing one of the units densiometers.

Oscar's weapon ports are closed, but his sensor clusters are focused on the door of the stateroom. Ralf quickly notes that the NAS sensor is being focused on him through the door.

"Pater, please report to the bridge that our avian guest has two robots, one of unknown design and capabilities, another apparently a modified IISS OSF-4."

A small avian creature similar to an Ael flapps over and perches on the assistant robot's head. The the musical sound of Aelien chuckling comes over the line.

"And a, uhm, dependent. I think."

OSF-4 reports, "Doctor Trrrweeeerrrl? I am detecting a single human outside the door, it appears to be unarmed."

Tweel's head raises slowly, while he chirps something in a grating tone, which Pater translates as: *Wonderful. Well you heard Christian. We'd better straighten up and fly right before we stall. So get in formation and stay there. Be polite. BUT, keep your lie detection software in the air at all times.*

The door opens, and Ralf walks in. Tiblisi watches him enter.

*Why would you send someone with a possible problem with their brain in to check on a patient? It's not like EEGs are done on a routine basis when there is any sort of a situation going on. And if a 'pocket universe' (whatever that is), a guy from 150 years ago (yeah, right), and a Solomani battle fleet (I can buy that one) doesn't make a situation, I don't know what does. This isn't a ship, it's a... never mind.*

Caught in his own frustration over his current immobility, Casey misses the associated name and face of the person one of the many *...famine then feast!..*Doctors speaks to.

*WIREHEAD?!*

As Casey refocuses on the scenery at hand, he sees only the back of a person standing before a door, then entering entering an adjoining room, the door closing quickly behind. Tabor frowns after him for a moment, then dismisses him from ind, turning back to Tar.

"You're going to be bruised all over for a day or two, and these are going to be SERIOUS bruises, the kind that ache nonstop. I don't like overmedicating patients, but if you would like a painkiller to help you sleep at night I'll oblige. Other than that, though, I'd say you're free to go... as soon as the Commander decides WHERE you're to go, that is...." He waggles an eyebrow in mock fierceness.

"It will be nice to take a walk about, I'm sure."

...With that, Tabor turns to face Tiblisi. *Great, my turn.* Tiblisi props up on one elbow to be able to turn and look at the doctor better.

"Mister Tiblisi? Bend forward, please, I want to look at that bump on your head...." Tabor frowns as he scans the back of Lee's head. "Hmmm. A concussion, but a minor one, as Christian saw."

Lee's head bends forward as the doctor asks. There is a slight pain in response to the pressure of the doctor's fingers. There is a moment of silence into which Tiblisi interjects, "Just to let you know, I've felt a little numbness in my right arm. Maybe I've pinched a nerve." Lee states the last almost as a question.

Tabor continues the examination of Tiblisi's head injury and then checks for anything else that might have been missed.

While waiting for the examination to be over, Tiblisi's expression is almost impatient. *Well, he's almost done with his examination.* Lee remains still so that the doctor and do his work and watches him for any indication that something else might be amiss.

"From your skin color and motor response, I'D say you need a hot meal and a night's sleep more than anything else, but I'm going to keep you here under observation until after you've had at least one of each. Any bruises or tr--"

His hands stop dead in mid-palpation, and he flushes bright crimson to the tips of his ears. VERY slowly, he removes his hands from Lee, and retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket. Mopping his forehead, he mumbles, "My apologies. There seems to have been a rather CRITICAL omission from your preliminary chart!"

Tar chuckles softly.

When Ralf enters, the demenor of the Ael is quite different from that which he had just seen on the screen. In contrast to the surly image, *this* Ael appears to be of a more co-operative mind.

"Hello sentient. My name is Ralf. I understand you own the derelict 100-ton scout Bernoulli? We need to talk."

Lee looks at Tabor with a quizzical expression as he steps back.

*Maybe my injuries are more serious than I thought.*

Then Lee notices that he is _blushing_.

*Why would a doctor blush when he is examining a patient? Unless he didn't know I was a female... Even then, what's the big deal? Examining a patient is examining a patient. Maybe he has something against examining a female? Maybe he has a problem with someone who prefers a unisex viewpont. Well, it will give me a chance to see how far "professional courtesey" goes. I don't think it should make him that uncomfortable. Just be professional about it and do your job. What sex a person is shouldn't make a difference on how you do your job -- surgery not withstanding, of course. [Lee smirks] How will Tabor handle this?*

Lee tries to present Tabor with as calm and patient, although somewhat puzzled, face as possible.

Doctor Tabor says to Lee, "Excuse me one moment, and I'll be right back with something for your head." he then walks over to Doctor Yorblin at the cooling tank, and says softly, "Does Christian NORMALLY omit gender notations when drawing up initial trauma charts? And PLEASE tell me I'm not the only Doctor on board who's qualified to do OB/GYN writeups...."

"Answers- Yes, he normally does and no, I'm happy to do OB/GYN as long as it's critical care, but," Jan turns with a grin, "I don't no nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies!"

Copyright © 1997, 1998