A Space Odyssey Chapter 7

Author's Notes: Following sensor readings, the crew of the Gorion have entered the detention center and stand poised to find out who or what lies behind the cell door...

Also: Sorry for the delay in this chapter... it got out of hand and needed a few overhauls. It happens.

Disclaimers: Standard for Odyssey.

 
The Gorion’s crew assembled by the door to cell 2AFR, weapons ready and minds wondering what lay behind it. Valygar watched the crew’s back, taking up a position at the T-junction that led back to the security station. Imoen stood by the door controls, one hand on her rifle, the other on the door panel. Dr. Aerie stood to the other side of the door, while the other three, with Bran at the center, formed a hemisphere facing the still closed door.

Bladesinger trained on the door, Bran asked, “Aerie, anything more from your sensors? Any clue what’s behind that door?”

Aerie, hunched over her wristcomp and punching the buttons with obvious frustration, replied, “N..nothing much. The alloy is really playing havoc with the readings. I can tell you its not moving and its life signs are steady.” She paused a moment, staring at the door, “A..and I don’t sense any active thought. Whatever it is, I think its unconscious.”

Lips thinned in thought, Bran stared at the door, trying to force the 500-year-old metal to yield up its secrets. Just beyond that door rested at least some answers to what happened aboard the derelict ship. And he needed those answers. Readjusting his grip on his rifle he asked, “Immy, you ready?”

The petite redhead nodded in acknowledgement.

“Alright, let’s get some answers, shall we? Open the door.”

Imoen jabbed the door open button, and unlike so much of the rest of the equipment aboard, the door slid open effortlessly. The room beyond was tiny, maybe 2 meters by 3 with small private facilities in one corner and a narrow bed along the other wall. But more important than the small cell’s furnishings was what, or who, was in it.

In one corner of the cell, huddled by an air vent, was a small heap of blankets and other material. Who or whatever it was looked to have taken every last scrap of cloth and insulation it could find, including whatever was left of the bed’s mattress, and formed it into some sort of nest to husband every last ounce of heat it could. Bran held his rifle trained on the impromptu nest, but there was no movement.

As soon as Bran started to lower his rifle, the doctor darted into the opened cell. Shouting for the doctor to wait and make sure it was safe, he was cut off by her curt reply, “She’s injured and needs my attention. Badly.”

“Her?” asked Bran.

“Yes,” replied the doctor as she crouched down next to the heap of old cloth and began to dig her way through the pile. “Wh..whoever she is, she has some significant injuries along with severe signs of hypothermia. A..as soon as the door opened, I got a clear reading. I knew she was no threat. She’s barely alive.”

Turning to face the others, she ordered, “Jaheira, I need your help please. Get her out of this pile while I get my hypothermia kit out.”

Sharing a slight smile with Bran, Jaheira shrugged then nodded. Dr. Aerie Av’lina was well aware that her skill as physician was beyond reproach. When treating a patient, the normally retiring doctor became as demanding as a drill sergeant. Arguing with her when attending her charges was simply a waste of time. You just followed orders and didn’t interrupt her. So, while Aerie readied herself, Jaheira began to dig out the mystery woman from her blanket cocoon.

Lifting up the last blanket, Jaheira froze, the blanket dangling from her gauntlet as she stared down at the small unconscious figure. Letting that blanket fall from her fist, the half Seldarian woman let fly a short but powerful string of invectives in her native tongue. Bran stepped to the door of the crowded cell as Aerie turned from her medical gear and asked, “Jaheira, what is it?”

Eyes never leaving the unconscious form, Jaheira answered, her voice ominously flat, “Our lifeform is a Yolandan woman. And military or ex-military by her gear.”

Aerie, already aware of the fact, looked at the XO’s, not completely comprehending the furrows now carved in the woman’s brow. Bran took a step further into the room and replied, voice hard but distant, “Yolandan?”

“Yes,” was Jaheira’s curt reply.

Unbidden, memories flooded his consciousness and dragged him back to a darker time. The stench of seared flesh and burning circuits filling the air. The pleading of the freighter captains. The soot and blood soaking his face and his uniform as he stood over the command holo console of his old destroyer, the Redoubtable. His ship shuddering under repeated Yolandan assault. The forward shields giving out and the fires, and the horrible screams. And her face.

The chilling image of her once beautiful face staring at him from the holo flared to life behind his eyes. Most of her beautiful golden hair burned away. The left side of her face nothing more than a mass of burnt red skin and oozing blood. Her uniform blouse a mass of charred cloth and flesh with the tatters of the left sleeve dangling empty. But those eyes, her beautiful, ice blue eyes, still sharp and true, even through the terrible pain.

And her final orders, ordering him to retreat while she rammed the Yolandan command cruiser to give him time to escape. Her final words, ”There is no other way. I’m sorry. Never forget that I love you. Now, get out of here. Auspicious out.”

Finally, the nova birthed from her ship slamming into the cruiser, engulfing both in hellish fire as his battered ship slipped away into hyperspace.

Bran stood silent, lost deep in the forest of memory until Jaheira’s call over their private comm channel broke through. He could tell she was concerned. “Bran? Bran? Answer me.”

Still foggy from his reverie, he replied softly, “Yes?”

“You were thinking of her weren’t you? When I told you our lifeform was a Yolandan?”

Bran took a deep breath and said through thin lips, “Yes. Yes I was.”

“I understand. I was there. I remember what happened. But now is not the time. For memories or recriminations.”

“You.. you are right,” he said with a nod. “Was I gone long?”

“Not long.”

“Good.” Switching to the open channel, he asked with more edge than he would have liked, “So, this Yolandan, how is she, doc?”

“She will live, thankfully. Her injuries are significant, but not severe.” replied Aerie, who didn’t look up from her ministrations. The small prone Yolandan was wrapped in thermal blankets and the injectors on the doctor’s suit were pumping in various medications. Her other hand was using a dermal regenerator on the torn flesh of the Yolandan’s right arm.

“Can you wake her?”

“I.. I could, but not yet. I need to finish my work,” replied Aerie.

“Aerie, I know you care about your patient, but I’d really like to know what in blazes is going on here. And I bet she knows part of it. So, I want her awake. Now,” demanded Bran.

“And you will have her awake. As soon as I think she’s ready. I don’t want to do any further damage,” replied Aerie coldly.

Bran looked from patient to doctor and asked flatly, “Will waking her now kill her?”

The diminutive doctor carefully placed her tools on the deck then turned to face her captain. Squaring her shoulders, she glared at him with icy blue eyes. The ice in her eyes was nothing compared to the frost in her voice. “Captain, I am not even going to dignify that question with an answer. She is my patient and I will bring her around when I deem it to be medically safe. If you have a problem with my medical judgment, you can replace me when we reach the next spaceport. But until then, I’m the Gorion’s doctor, and I’m going to treat my patient the way I see fit. Is that a problem?”

Silence reigned in that cell for a long minute. Bran’s hands tightly gripped his Bladesinger in frustration, his fingers going white beneath his gauntlets. He tried to stare down the defiant doctor, trying to get her to back down. But the small woman was undaunted, returning his stare resolutely. Finally, through clenched teeth, he answered, “No, Doctor, I don’t have a problem with this. Notify me as soon as your patient is ready to talk.” Without another word, the captain stalked out of the cell and back into the hallway.

As soon as Bran stalked away, Aerie let her shoulders sag and sighed in relief. Turning her head to look at the silent Jaheira, she switched to a private channel and said, “F..for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to back down.”

Aerie swallowed hard as she watched Jaheira, whose eyes were still on the cell door, slowly slide her pistol back into its holster and redo the catch. Darting her eyes up to face level as the XO turned back towards her, she saw the troubled expression on Jaheira’s face. Lips pursed, she answered quietly, “For a moment, I was concerned he would not either.”

The pistol and the troubled look on the XO’s face disturbed the doctor. Eyes showing her concern, Aerie replied, “I did not realize his.. h.. hatred of Yolandans went so deep. I..it just seems so out of character for him. He doesn’t seem like the kind that just hates a race for no reason.”

Jaheira sighed, casting another look at the empty door. “Aerie, he has his reasons, some very powerful reasons...”

“The burned, blonde haired woman?” Aerie interjected.

The doctor watched Jaheira’s eyes go wide with shock, “H.. How did you know? Did you probe..”

With a wave, Aerie dismissed her question. “Jaheira, I didn’t. W..when he saw the Yolandan, it evoked a powerful response. The image of a burned blonde woman. I couldn’t help but feel it. It was like someone shouting across a crowded room, you weren’t listening for it, but you couldn’t help but hear it.”

Jaheira nodded slowly. “I think I understand. It makes sense that your people valued peace so much.”

“Pain and sadness are ‘shouted’ the loudest unfortunately.” Aerie answered grimly. Deciding to venture further, Aerie asked, “W..who was she?”

Behind her faceplate, Jaheira’s face slipped into an emotionless mask. “She was a very close friend Aerie. But now is not the time for reminiscing, we have a patient to attend to.”

Understanding enough, Aerie nodded in comprehension. “You’re right Jaheira. Could you hand me the triglycogen injector from my kit?