"Soldier Vathr'dal, Soldier Masakaji appears to be bedridden." The ARIA responded. A picture opened of of a camera feed into Masakaji's bunk, he appeared to be ill. Nearby the ship's medic was watching him and sitting back with a comic book while he watched the foreigner. "Doctor Mer'lon is..." The AI chose its next words sourly as the good doctor turned a page. "...presiding over him."
-
"Soldier Shrie'Keng. We do have some armours that could reasonably goe toe to toe with Yamataian, Nepleslian or NMX armours." The ARIA replied to the ranger. "With some tactical or numerical advantages on our side, of course..."
A selection appeared, outlines appearing of each major-name Lorath armour that was available to them, including the UOC
Tenshi powered armors. He'd notice something that'd be strange about the UOC made armour in its description: 'Pilotable by Nekovalkyrja, Yamataian, Nepleslian, Lorath, Helashio...'. Their original doctrine of inclusiveness had meant that it would be pilotable by anyone no matter which rung they were on. In retrospect, this was a blessing.
The other Lorath armours were either the WIND plus a GUST attachment suite, which was
pajamas compared to most other armours by other factions - or it was the Bringer of Thunder and AMX combat frames. A gap existed where a power armour could have lived - but didn't. The larger frames were used by the
Akahar to grab and cable-tie errant vessels into the right location.
"I can begin using unorthodox scanning techniques and methods during our search - we may be able to find something." The ARIA stated as the armours appeared before Shrie'Keng holographically.
-
>ON
The knock on Keib's door was shy, and embarassingly soft. He almost didn't hear it, lost in what he'd found on Aiesu's body. The subtle things, hidden by the hair and in her muscular structure - carryovers from her real body that were even taken note of in the ROM-construction and ARIA creation. "C-Come in." He replied from his desk, studying the data he'd taken from her - each little deviation. It only begun with the ears. He'd been contemplating these developments for a few hours while the ship was hurtling through space from place to place, following the trail of blood that the Mok'Ro had left in flinging its emergency message.
The door opened with just as much hesitation, and shut with a quiet click.
"Mister Keib?"
He lowered the pages in his hand and looked over his desk. "Four Six." He replied. "Something wrong?"
The little white statue took a few stonelike steps forward, and then covered the rest of the difference in a more normal gait, though with considerably more care. When she was close enough, she said, "I'm sorry, Sir, but I didn't want to go near medical while..."
She figited, silvery eyes breaking away to examine the paperwork on the desk. Keib could see her discomfort, because he got to watch her tail curl slowly. "I just didn't feel like going to the medics. Could you see me?"
It wasn't hard to understand why she didn't want to head into the medical office. Even after sanitising it, something still lingered in the air. Something that just screamed wrong. Could it have been the doctor, the patient or the act itself that provoked these reactions?
"Certainly." He put the pages down, then shuffled them into a folder, and put them into a bio-locked desk. He stood up from behind his desk and walked around it. The white stains of her blood were on his coat, near the lapel and the sleeves. He'd missed a spot on his cheek, it blended in with his skin, somewhat.
Four looked up at him, and then back down.
"I'm bleeding," she said, almost in a whisper.
He blinked, knowing what it could have been and moved towards the door. "Come." He requested. "Let's get you healed." This was one of the things he'd been dreading silently. He bent down, and lifted her up in his arms. He had to use his legs and strained to lift her up as he walked towards the Medbay, pushing the door open with his foot and depositing her on the chair, gently like a flower.
She winced, and he could see why - the blood was seeping into her uniform trousers, and staining them. It had stained his left sleeve, too.
"I'm sorry," Four said in her tiny voice.
"This is no fault of your own." He replied as he searched the cabinets. He found an ultrasound machine put it on the bench. First came power, then came a connection to the monitor that pervaded the room, and finally, preparing the patient. His gloved hands hovered over her uniform for a moment, and then he got to work; slowly undoing the buttons and belts with surgical ease.
He knew his Helashio physiology, they had periods of heat - a much longer cycle than most species and some blood was normal afterwards, but this was different. This wasn't in the cycle. Her trousers and the lower part of her jacket were open and her skin was visible and purpling. Keib rubbed a gel over her belly and put the business end of the ultrasound against it. He looked up at the image on the screen.
It was still there.
They didn't even have the decency to remove it.
Keib's knuckles were cracking as he gripped the paddle of the ultrasound receiver.
Four didn't even look up at the screen. All she could see was Keib's masked face slowly contorting in anger. Maybe she just didn't want to know. Her gaze seemed fixed, and a little pain-wild.
"Mister Keib?"
"...Yes?" He mustered, looking down into Four's eyes, he looked away for a brief moment for the tools he'd have to bear.
The Helashio snagged the edge of his jacket, her grip trembling. "I can't look. Did I miscarry? Was I going to have a child?"
He lifted the paddle of the Ultrasound away from her belly. He couldn't stand to look at it for any longer, let alone be the bearer of the news no mother wanted to hear. "I... I'm sorry." Keib's voice was tiny, and full of regret. He thought his life would be rid of images like this - but the past had a way of reminding you, and never letting them escape you. When her paper-white fingers slipped from his jacket, the silence was almost painful. There should have been wailing or... or something.
Instead, when he looked back, all he saw was a hung head, hunched shoulders, and tears so silent Four couldn't voice them, or even breath, without her hands over her mouth and throat.
The bleeding was getting worse, her grief was compounding the problem. He was alone with the Helashio - Greg was asleep.
He reached for another syringe, the first of many, and grabbed her hand away from her mouth, lifting it up and jabbing the needle into an artery further in her forearm. She didn't need to experience what happened next, she didn't need to be awake for it at all. He squeezed her hand, if only to stimulate circulation and tell her one simple message without words as he tried to look into her eyes.
The anesthetic worked quickly, and relaxed her muscles enough he could hear the painful gasp of air, the first breath she'd taken in. Her chest heaved for a moment as she searched his face and squeezed his hand for a tether.
And then, cradled like that, the helashio drifted off, her silver tear-filled eyes still left wanting.
Absolution wasn't something Keib could give.
>OFF
MOVING TO 1.1...
