Chapter 15
"Would ya just stop fussing over me woman? I'm fine!" Dex's words,
though slightly slurred as a result of the stroke, rang clear through
the medical ward. Jordan was unmoved as Dex tried to push past her in
an attempt to rise from the bed. Standing in the door frame, Freya
covered her mouth quickly to hide the chuckle.
With
a kind but firm touch, Jordan pushed him back down and crossed her
arms across her crest. "You will not get out of that bed until
the doctors say you can!" He glared at the two of them and
harrumphed before crossing his own arms.
Freya
stepped forward, "glad to see you're awake Dex." She
scooped his chart up and started skimming through it, avoiding his
intense gaze.
"What's
with the uniform change?" Dex asked, glancing over her traveling
ensemble. "You going some where?"
"The
surface. We arrived in orbit of Ne'Vha a few hours ago," Freya
said, still skimming the chart. "I'll be escorting Lieutenant
Ice and Commander Bonwick down to the hospital in the colony."
Jordan
frowned, "has there been any change for Julian?"
Freya
shook her head silently. "Well, looks like you'll be spared a
trip after all Dex. But," she said quickly interrupting his
renewed attempts to rise. "You'll need a lot of physical therapy
to recover completely. The muscle stimulators we gave you will only
last so long. Then the hard work begins."
"Can
I take him home?" Jordan asked, gripping her husband's hand
tightly.
"Not
quite," Freya said, setting the chart back into the wall slot.
"But soon I imagine, if he doesn't do anything too foolish to
derail recovery," she added with a grin. "It'll take time
Dex but in a few weeks, this will all be a distant memory. In the
meantime, you are off-duty. Understood?" Though he grumbled and
groused about it, Freya could see the tiredness in his eyes. "Okay,
I better go. I just wanted to check in before I left."
"Be
careful Freya," Jordan said as Freya turned to go. "I'm
sure those doctors down there are great but we don't know anything
about them really. So be careful down there."
"And
you be careful up here," Freya said, thinking of all the strange
engineering personnel that would be swarming the ship soon for the
overhaul.
------
Captain
Hunt stared out the window toward the sprawling space dock, wondering
how much he could trust the people who would be fixing up his ship
soon. It was more than his engineering team could manage alone, even
if they had the resources, but it was hard to open those doors to
people they barely knew.
"Robert?"
Her voice was soft, edged with concern. She laid her cheek against
his shoulder and waited, patiently, for him to turn toward her.
"You're
not real," he said, not daring to pull his eyes from the space
dock. Not daring to look at her long gone face.
"I'm
here aren't I?" she whispered, running her fingers into his
hair. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel her touch as it
parted the thinning strands on his neck.
The
clank of boot heals on the metal deck broke the spell, sending her
away in a wisp. "No, you're not," Hunt said under his
breath. He took a long breath and shook the memory of her away.
"Captain
Robert Hunt I presume?" Hunt turned on his ankle to greet the
newcomer. "My name is Chief Garr't – I oversee all our major
repairs here." Unlike the others they'd seen so far, Garr't was
neither human nor Quuvarii. His green tinted skin had a scaly,
reptilian quality to it and his coal black eyes were tiny and sunken,
giving him a snake like face.
"Pleasure
to meet you," Captain Hunt said, extending his hand. The alien
looked at it curiously for a moment before recognition dawned and he
returned the gesture.
"Such
an odd gesture, the shaking of hands. I've seen only a few of the
humans continue it over the years," Garr't said. He mused
briefly before holding up the pad in his hand. "I have the
results of our initial scans of your ship to go over. We've
highlighted what we consider the most important repairs...." he
paused and looked down the hall anxiously.
"Is
there a problem Chief?"
"No,
only I usually do this with the ship's engineer present. We find it
saves time and general bickering in the long run."
"Sorry
Captain! Sorry!" Jordan jogged toward them. "I was in the
medical ward – Dex woke up finally, and then he tried to force his
way out of bed when I told him about this. You know how he is,"
she stopped, finally seeing the unfamiliar alien. "Oh, sorry.
Hello," she said, thrusting her hand out to Garr't.
"Chief
Garr't, this is Lieutenant Jordan Dexter – my acting Chief
Engineer. Lieutenant, Chief Garr't will be overseeing our repairs,"
Captain Hunt said as they shook hands. "Shall we Chief?"
"Of
course," Garr't said. "Naturally there are several main
systems that need maintenance and repair – I admit we were
fascinated by your vessel. Not many generational ships come through
here. It's clear you've encountered many species over the course of
your travels – we only directly recognized about fifty percent of
the technology." With that opening, the pair of engineers were
engrossed with each other, leaving Captain Hunt to trail behind with
only half a mind on them.
"That
was you once," she said, slipping her hand into his and matching
his pace. "The eager young engineer who could talk for hours
about engines and testric fields." Hunt faltered a step at her
materialization but the pair took little notice of him. "Do you
remember him? The boy I fell for? I do – back before...well, just
before." Robert glanced over at her, hoping for a glimpse of
light in her crystal blue eyes but she had turned away from him. For
a moment he was sure he saw a tear slide down her cheek but that
seemed impossible. Could ghosts cry?
He
was still musing on that possibility when Jordan drew his attention
back into the present, "right Captain?" she asked, smiling
at him. Clearly she hadn't noticed his inattention yet.
"I
trust your judgment in these matters Lieutenant," he said,
flexing his fingers where her hand had just been. "If you'll
both excuse me, I need to speak with Doctor Ryan before she leaves. I
assume the two of you can assess the ship."
"Of
course Captain," Chief Garr't said, feigning confidence. In
fact, this was all highly unusual to him but he'd never dealt with
humans outside of the colony. Beside him the lieutenant was nodding
awkwardly as well, giving her commander reassurances despite her
general uncertainty.
Hunt
either didn't notice the falsities or didn't care because he nodded
and spun around to march away in the other direction.
------
Freya
double checked Bonwick's dressings one more time before nodding to
the waiting nurse. "Tell Lieutenant Franklin I'll be ready in
ten minutes please." She'd already watched as they guided
Julian's bed toward the hangar bay and now only had to grab her gear
and follow her patients.
His
anxious fidgeting drew her attention. She'd seen the young man
hovering over the commander's bed before but hadn't taken the time to
speak to him yet. "Will she be okay?" he asked, just as
Freya grabbed her bag from the lockers. "Will my mother be
okay?" When she caught his eye, she saw unshed tears at the
brim, threatening to spill at any moment.
"I
don't know," Freya replied honestly. "Her injuries were..."
"Extensive.
I know," he said, cutting her off. "I... I've come before
but never know what to say to her. We haven't really spoken much in
the last year."
"You're
only seventeen, do you not still live with her?" Freya asked,
unable to squelch her curiosity.
He
shook his head, "I left after the rebellion started. Let's just
say we didn't see eye to eye on most things. She wanted me to hate
you," he grimaced as the words left his mouth. "Not you
specifically but..."
"I
understand," Freya said. "Has anyone explained her
condition to you?" He shook his head quickly. "She was
burned, quite badly, as I'm sure you know. We've had her sedated so
she could heal. However, her body is now fighting an infection where
we used new skin grafts."
"She's
rejecting the grafts then?" he asked.
Freya
nodded appreciatively. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It's
possible that we can get the infection under control but if we
can't...."
"She
could die," he concluded, nodding slowly as he absorbed this
knowledge. "Thank you doctor – for doing everything you can to
save her even though..."
"Everyone
who comes through here belongs to someone – and deserves our best
effort," Freya said, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on
his arm. "Personnel transports should begin in a day or two –
you should be able to come see her then. If you're interested, I'll
make sure you have priority? Your name is Jake right?"
"Yes,
thank you Doctor, I'll let you know," he turned and practically
ran from the medical ward.
Freya
followed him out, glancing the way he'd gone briefly before turning
toward the lifts. She barely made it three steps before Captain Hunt
fell into step beside her. "It's getting worse," he said,
his voice low.
"I
told you it would," Freya didn't need to ask to what he was
referring. "You should have come in for a full scan as soon as
the symptoms began."
"I
don't need a lecture Doctor," Hunt protested, glancing around
him as they walked.
"Robert,
listen to me. You have a tumor in your brain – I don't know how big
it is or if it can be treated. I only know it's there now and it
wasn't there six months ago. It's going to get worse if you don't let
us do a proper exam and begin some sort of treatment."
"That
sounds an awful lot like a lecture," Hunt said as they
approached the lifts. "When will you be back from the surface?"
"Will
you let me examine your brain? If so, I'm back already..." Freya
said with a small smile.
"When
you get back from settling your patients in," Hunt said. "I'll
submit to the doctor's orders then."
Freya
narrowed her eyes suspiciously for a moment but nodded. "Keep
taking the medicine – hopefully it will keep the symptoms at bay
for a few days longer." A team of space dock engineers glanced
their way, accompanied by one of their own. After exchanging nods,
Freya looked anxiously toward the Captain. "Are we sure about
this?"
Hunt
watched them silently for several seconds before nodding. "It's
what needs to be done. We can't keep limping through space
indefinitely. Safe travels doctor."
As
soon as she stepped out of the lift, another set of footsteps joined
hers. "You disappeared this morning again," Meng said,
struggling to appear casual.
"I
had to pack," Freya said tapping the duffel bag that hung off
her shoulder. "I'm going to the surface – as I'm sure you
know." Meng nodded but said nothing more as they closed in on
the hangar bay. "I'll be back in a few days." She hesitated
just outside the double doors and turned toward him suddenly. "Keep
an eye on the Captain for me..." she said, her voice low. Before
he could reply, she triggered the door sensor and took long strides
toward the shuttles.
Meng,
not to be deterred so easily, jogged after her. "The captain?
Why?"
Freya
plastered a fake smile on her face and shrugged. "Just because
of the refit – it's going to make him crazy having all these aliens
poking at his ship." She waved to Lieutenant Franklin and then
climbed into the shuttle, stowing her medical gear and duffel in the
forward compartment. As she turned to check on her patients, Meng
followed her in. "What are you doing?"
"Oh
I'm coming with you," he said, a mischievous smile playing
across his lips as he dropped into the pilot's chair.
"No,
you're not," Freya said. "See the cramped quarters? Room
for two patients, a doctor and a pilot. So unless you're critically
injured..."
"I'm
your pilot," he said as Lieutenant Franklin poked her head
through the hatch. "We're just about set Lieutenant."
"Very
good, safe travels. Watch the landing Commander," she warned.
Meng's hands were already moving across the control panel as he
powered up the shuttle and prepared for their flight.
Freya
looked between the pair of them, confusion etched across her face.
"You don't know how to fly though..."
"Oh
he can fly this bucket just fine Doctor. Don't worry, you're in good
hands," Lieutenant Franklin said with a reassuring smile.
"Fly?
Yes. Land? Ehh...." Meng glanced over his shoulder at them and
shrugged casually.
The
Lieutenant chuckled. "He was an ace student – don't let him
fool you," she said before grabbing the hatch and closing it for
them with a loud hiss.
"Oh
he rarely does..." Freya muttered to the sealed door. "So,
flying lessons then?" she asked as she checked over Bonwick's
vitals and tugged carefully at the straps.
"You
weren't the only one who couldn't sleep," Meng said. "You
about done back there?" Freya gave Julian's straps a final tug
and then nodded before climbing into the seat beside him. "Control,
this is Pod One – permission to disembark?"
After
a brief pause, the final red light on the panel switched to green.
"Granted Pod One. Fair winds Commander," Captain Hunt's
voice replied. "See you in a couple days." In front of
them, the metal barrier that separated the bay from space began to
creak open, revealing the curve of the planet below and the massive
metal cages of the space dock.
As
the pod slid out of the bay, Freya noticed dozens of smaller vessels
darting between the grid arms at the port, no doubt shuttling
engineers to and from the vessels in need of repairs. "Wow,"
Meng said, watching the scene unfold as he guided the pod away from
the safety of Unity. A half dozen ships, all of them a small fraction
of Unity's size, were docked or waiting for instruction. They skimmed
past in silence, both absorbed in the massive operation and their own
thoughts.
Finally,
as the space dock slipped beyond their view ports, Freya slid her
medical kit out from under the chair and loaded an injector. "Here,
you'll need this," she said, holding it up for him to see.
"What
is it?" Meng asked.
"The
gravity on the surface is heavier than that on the ship and the
atmosphere has a slightly varied chemical make up then ours. This,"
she said, jiggling the injector, "is to counteract the body's
reaction to environmental changes."
Meng
nodded and twisted his head to expose a small section of his neck for
her to administer the drug. "Will everyone have to take this?"
"Yes,
unless they want to feel nauseous, light-headed and stumble for the
first twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If we went planet-side more
often, it probably wouldn't be necessary," Freya said. She
returned the empty injector to her medical kit and then moved back to
the rear of the shuttle.
Meng
swiveled around in his chair and watched her check over her patients
again. "So, it occurs to me that maybe I should be offended –
or at least taking a hint – from your morning disappearing acts."
"I
told you, I had to pack," she said, glancing his way briefly.
"Mmhmm,
yeah I know that for this morning. But you've done this every
morning," he pointed out. "Is there something..."
"I
couldn't sleep," Freya said quickly, cutting him off. "I
can't sleep. And I'm not going to waste my time staring at the
ceiling."
"So
that's it? You just can't sleep? Nothing more?" Meng asked, the
picture of calm.
Freya
nodded weakly, her hand straying to her stomach as a twinge of nausea
took root. "What else would it be?" she asked quietly.
"I
don't know Freya. I never know with you." Meng said with a
shrug. "Truth be told, I'm not sure I know you at all some
times."
"What's
that supposed to mean?" Freya asked, her face twisting in anger.
Meng held up his hands defensively and shook his head, trying to drop
the subject. Though part of her wanted to push the issue, wanted to
trigger the inevitable fight, she closed her eyes and slid down the
wall. "Do you remember what we were doing before the first time
we...." she trailed off, a tiny smile on her face as the memory
came back to her.
Meng,
though startled by the topic shift, merely shrugged. "Not
really."
"We
were arguing – about the massacre in bay twelve. All those
civilians, and children," Freya swiped at her cheek as a few
tears started to fall. "I was angry, so angry and I blamed you."
"Well
I was to blame so it was justified," Meng said as he sat down on
the deck across from her.
"No,
you weren't really but that's not the point. The next time it
happened – do you remember?"
"What
we were doing before hand? No I don't really," Meng said,
confused.
"We
were arguing. Again. And the next time, and the next time until it
became habit," Freya chuckled sadly. "Don't you see Meng?"
"See
what Freya? That we argue?"
Freya
shook her head, "we used each other as an outlet for our
emotions. It was easy, it was convenient. It wasn't supposed to be
anything more."
"But
it is!" Meng said, sliding closer to her and grabbing her hands.
"Maybe it started off how you said but that was then. And
now..."
"And
now – I'm not ready," Freya whispered. She looked over his
shoulder toward Julian's prone form.
Meng
recoiled from her after following her gaze. "Because of him?"
he asked, jumping to his feet. "How can you still feel anything
for him Freya?"
"I
don't!" Freya shouted, getting to her feet. "I don't FEEL
anything for him but h-he..." she trailed off, unsure of the
right words.
"He
destroyed you Freya. And he killed your best friend and you're
letting him..."
Freya's
eyes grew wide as she looked from Julian to Meng, "what did you
just say?"
Meng's
face, usually the picture of calm and serenity, fell as he realized
what he'd said. What he'd done. Freya slid back to the floor in a
heap, an anguished sob escaping her lips. "Freya, I - I'm sorry.
I didn't want..."
"It's
not possible. He - he wouldn't..." Even as she protested she
knew she was wrong. She looked past Meng toward Julian's broken body
and shuddered. The Julian she knew - her Julian - wasn't there
anymore.
She
felt his hand on her shoulder but didn't turn to face him, her gaze
was transfixed as thoughts tumbled through her head in a dizzying
blur. "I'm sorry Freya. I am so sorry." Meng leaned closer,
ready to envelope her in his arms but she recoiled, twisting toward
the tiny bathroom as the nausea finally overwhelmed her. Meng jumped
aside at the last moment, hovering awkwardly as she threw up her
meager breakfast. "You okay?"
Freya
shook her head slowly, letting the wave of nausea pass before
slumping back. "No, no I'm not," she said, refusing to meet
his eyes. Despite his silence, she could feel his steady gaze
watching her. Silently she wished he were back on Unity, far from
here where she could continue to avoid these awkward moments. "I'm
pregnant Meng," she said, training her eyes on a divot in the
bulkhead.
The
silence that followed her revelation was deafening and unnerving.
When she finally looked up, Meng was grinning broadly, unable to hold
back the sudden swell of emotion he felt. His smile faltered when
their eyes locked and then faded completely. "You're not happy
about this," he concluded.
Freya
shook her head, "as I said, I'm not ready." She carefully
pulled herself up, resting briefly against the wall to recover her
balance. Meng's usual emotional shroud had returned and his face was
a mask once more. If she looked hard enough she could probably
discern the emotions simmering just beneath the surface but he didn't
give her the chance. Without another word, he returned to the pilot's
seat and focused his energy on the flight.
"We'll
be landing in fifteen minutes," he announced a moment later
without looking back.
Though
he couldn't see her, Freya nodded in response before turning her
attention to her patients. Fifteen minutes. She could handle fifteen
more minutes. As if sensing her desperation for distraction, the
monitor attached to Bonwick began wailing. The incessant beeps echoed
off the walls of the tiny pod until Freya bullied it into silence.
"Meng! Hand me my medical bag," Freya said, staggering
toward
Bonwick's side.
"What's
the matter?" he asked, making no move toward the bag stowed near
his feet.
"The
bag Meng!" Freya shouted, pressing her fingers against Bonwick's
neck. No pulse. She looked back at Meng expectantly but his eyes were
fixed on Bonwick's failing body. His expression, so capable of warmth
and love, was icy as he stared at her. "Meng," Freya spoke
softly, as if approaching a wild animal, "she's a horrible
person. She is, there's no denying that. But there is a seventeen
year old boy on Unity who just wants to see his mother again. And I
want to be able to tell him I did everything I could to make that
happen."
Meng,
though ravaged by memories of his crumbled, broken father, nodded
silently and reached for the bag. "What can I do?" he asked
as he held it out to her.
"Call
the hospital, tell them one of the patients has coded and to have
personnel standing by when we land. And get us there faster,"
Freya said, rummaging around in the bag. "Much faster," she
muttered under her breath.
------
"Patient
is forty-one year old human, female," the nurse said, shouting
over the chaos of transporting her from the roof landing pad to the
unit. "Suffering secondary infection following skin grafts to
treat severe plasma burns. Cardiac activity ceased...." she
trailed off, looking toward Freya expectantly.
Freya
glanced at her chron, "twelve minutes ago," she said
meekly. Across the bed, Doctor Azael's eyebrows shot up. "She
has a son, Jake," Freya said, pleadingly. "It'll take at
least an hour to get him here..." She couldn't finish her
thought but they all knew.
Meng,
who had been standing in the corner uselessly while they attempted to
revive Aribeth Bonwick, caught her eyes and nodded. Without a word,
he ran back toward the roof where the pod, and Julian, had been left
behind just minutes before. "Pod One to Unity, come in."
"Go
ahead One," replied a static filled voice.
"You
need to get Jake Bonwick on a shuttle immediately," Meng said,
slumping back into the seat. He was still there, staring out across
the colony, when the two medics came for Julian Ice. They may have
said something to him, he may have even grunted some reply, but Meng
made no attempt to move until Freya slid into the seat beside him.
"He should be on his way," he said, glancing over at her
questioningly. "Will she make it?" he asked, when she
offered no immediate reply.
Freya
shook her head. "She's hooked up to machines to keep her
breathing. But after he comes..." she trailed off.
"After
he says goodbye," Meng said, filling the silence. She said
nothing, but she didn't have to. Without a word, she left the
shuttle, walking slowly back toward the hospital interior. Every step
she took seemed to require sheer force of will to keep moving forward
and occasionally she'd stop, as if to catch her breath before pushing
on. He wanted to summon her back. Or better yet, run towards her and scoop
her up to relieve her burden but she wouldn't welcome him. Not now.
With a heavy sigh, he turned his attention to the controls. The door
sealed closed with a mournful hiss. "Goodbye," he muttered,
as the pod lifted off from the roof.
End
Chapter
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