Family

Posted on 30 Sep 2023 @ 4:40pm by Zenia Pariborn & Lieutenant Commander Harva Taliborn
Edited on on 30 Sep 2023 @ 4:49pm

1,103 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Miranda
Location: Sickbay

It was very busy. And very loud. Far too loud. At least, for someone with the biblical, ocean-splitting headache that Harva was nursing right now. There was already the one from being sick with whatever was ravaging the crew of the ship, but on top of that was the massive one that Sha'mer bestowed upon him, in all her generosity. He'd have to 'thank' her for that, later. But then, that would have to come along with explanations from him, and he really didn't know how he was going to explain why he'd attacked her. Or why he'd sabotaged the ship's phasers.

Hoo boy. That was going to be one hell of an engineering ticket to solve.

For now though, he had other things on his mind. His entire body was hurting, but nowhere near as much as the thunderous stampede of elephants going on in his head. He'd been told to go to his quarters, but he'd chosen to 'interpret' that as to mean 'soon' rather than 'right this instant'. Instead he shuffled over to one of the other biobeds, further to the back, one that someone he'd come to care about greatly was currently occupying.

So he'd made his way to Zenia's location, feet shuffling, still wearing the dark blue infiltration outfit - right sleeve partially stained dark, nearly black, by some dried dark green liquid. "Hey, little one," he rumbled, voice barely above a whisper, and even that was too loud for him. As were the lights. As was everything.

Zenia was considered a "lesser case" at that point, with milder symptoms--so far--and had been put toward the back of sickbay. She was on a bed next to the wall, leaning her head back against it with her eyes closed. They had given her something for the pain, but it had only been minimally effective.

Her keen sense of smell caught the familiar before the voice spoke. She figured he must have come to check on her and smiled faintly. "Hey--" she began, then straightened up and opened her eyes. She didn't finish the statement as her eyes opened wider with alarm. The outfit didn't make sense, he looked like hell, and there was...something dried on him... "What's going on?" Was he sick too? How did that explain the rest, though?

With a labored wince he sat down on the ground next to the biobed. There was barely space, and getting back up was going to be a chore, but at least this was moderately more comfortable than standing, right now. "Uh ... " Yeah, how was he going to say this? He hadn't even thought about that yet. "How are you holding up?" he ventured, speaking his native language.

It didn't pass her by that he didn't answer her question, but she'd tolerate it...for the moment. She replied, "Not well. I came in when it was just a headache, but since I've been here, a fever started and every part of my body hurts. And sometimes..." She shifted uncomfortably, but then winced because the movement caused pain. "Things don't...smell right."

"You're right, they don't," was his quiet reply. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on - something. "There's some sort of - thing - going around. They're still trying to figure out what exactly. Half the crew is down with it. I got it bad. And I've done - " he shook his head, trying to clear it out, but instantly regretted it as the already prodigious headache flared up. "Seems it can affect the mind too. Make us relive things. I hurt a friend, bad - I might be going away for a while."

Zenia was quite aware of the delirium this illness was causing in many of the crew. Not all. She wasn't suffering from it...yet, at least...but many who had been in sickbay while she'd been there had made it pretty clear what was happening to them. It was, she guessed, what being on illicit drugs felt like...both as the ones feeling it and the ones on the outside watching it.

What he said made her frown again, even if her face hurt. "But...but if you're sick..." She tried to reconcile all the pieces around her, but it was hard with this pounding in her head.

"I did do those things, little hunter, sick or not," ears wilted a bit. "There'll be an inquiry at the minimum. Possibly a court martial. A lot will depend on the testimony of our doctor," He opened his eyes again, even the light was a bit too sharp for him at the moment. "There'll be questions. Ones I can't answer."

She frowned again, feeling a surge of complex emotion at how certain he was about this. It was obvious from most of the patients around here that their own brains were out of their control. What made him so special that he would be singled out, even if something bad had happened as a result? She didn't say that, though. "I guess we'll see what the doctors have to say."

"Yeah, let's hope I'm just seeing doom and gloom and things will not be so bad," he glanced over towards the direction he'd come from, but it was so busy he couldn't see his friend, Lieutenant Commander Sha'mer. "Migrator, I feel like I got run over by a Starship. Twice over."

"That starship has been making the rounds quite actively," she said with a heavy sigh, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall again. The throbbing started up with great intensity behind her eyes. "I know that many patients have been sent to isolate in their quarters yet sickbay is still full. I think the whole crew must be here."

Harva flicked an ear. "Yeah, that seems legit,"

He was about to say more, but an orderly came walking up. "Commander? I am to escort you to quarters. You'll be confined there until we know more about what's happening."

"Yeah, that sounds good," the Sirren engineer said, hefting himself up to his full height, though with great effort and a wince or two. He was far from comfortable. "Take care, little hunter. I'll be alright. Ok?" he told Zenia.

"Okay..." was all she could think to say, both her body and mind full of conflicting feelings.

 

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