Thoughts from Andromeda part 21

By ElementalsAdvocate

…

Year 2819, Andromeda Galaxy, Heleus Cluster, The Nexus, Habitat Ring, Docking Pad 16, The Tempest, Pathfinder's Cabin

…

SAM, dim the lights please. Start recording.

Well… shit, I don't know where to start.

Okay.

I woke up this morning with a hangover, vomited (twice), found out that I went out on a "biotic bender", hoisted the Prodromos flag over at the Vortex Lounge, and asked one of my superiors out on a date, all in the space of one night. Joy.

Then I had to run out to a meeting with the Directors on one cup of coffee and a tube of paste that tasted like cement and strawberries. Got there five minutes late, and had to endure Tann's fast talking, book-keeper style of resource allocation and political opportunism policies on a headache and a stomachache. Joy and be-jeesus.

Finally got out of there, and I'm actually feeling really good about things after a trip to the refresher, so I try and exercise a little Pathfinder's responsibility by setting up a meeting for the Pathfinder Team on the Hyperion to discuss Pathfinder selection protocols. You know, just in case I croak. I've got some time on my hands, so I head down to SAM Node, and SAM plugs me into one of Dad's memories.

Big mistake.

I not only see the world through Dad's eyes, but I see Mom again and… it had to be that day. The day when everything changed.

By the time I came out of the memory, I don't even remember what I was thinking or feeling. I just knew I had to see Dad.

Bigger mistake.

I don't know how I had the sense to unplug my biotic amp before-hand, but I did. I don't know how I missed running into anybody, but I did. And when I finally got to the room where they put Dad's casket… I almost didn't open it. But I did.

Mistake maximus.

I lost it. Again. Only worse this time. I was just… so… angry.

Took a few minutes, but SAM finally got me calmed down. Didn't use words, just fiddled with my chemistry using my implants and that is… not fair. Really not fair.

Deep breaths, Scott. Deep breaths.

And what's worse, it's Harper who comes and finds me. The lady hates my guts, and she's the one who finds me. How does that happen?

{I asked her.}

… Figures. SAM, you traitor-

{Lieutenant Harper has the most experience when dealing with biotics in dangerous and unstable situations. Furthermore, she is your second-in-command.}

Yeah, my second in command, WHO HATES MY GUTS! Damn it, SAM! Do you not understand the nature of a professional façade? Because that's what I see whenever I look at Harper; a professional façade and military discipline all clamped down over indignation and self-righteous fury on top of a bouncing biotic blue upbringing, with all that entails!

Jeesus! I know where she's coming from, alright! I know what it's like to feel like there's no proper place for myself, trying to act normal, trying to fill the niche that society allows for me, all the while holding back from carving one out with my god-damned teeth! But dammit, it wasn't my fault! It wasn't… my… fault. God!

Scott stands suddenly and kicks over the chair, clattering in the darkness.

Damn him. Damn him… Damn it. Dammit. Dammit…

After taking several deep breaths, Scott finds the chair and puts it back at the desk before sitting down.

After Harper found me and patched me up, she hauled me down to med-bay for the doctors to look me over. Then Harry showed up and gave me a piece of his mind and, long story very short, I've got a counseling session scheduled with Doctor T'Perro tomorrow, on top of everything else.

SAM, end recording. Goodnight.

{Goodnight Pathfinder. Logging you out.}

…

Addendum: Hyperion Med-bay 03.

…

Harper: "Medic!"

Doctor Carlyle: "My God! What happened this time?"

Scott Ryder: "I ran into a bulkhead."

Harper lays Scott out on table, while Doctor Carlyle activates the inbuilt medical scanner.

Carlyle: "A bulkhead gave you a broken nose, multiple contusions on both arms, and over-extended your biotic nodes?"

Scott: "Yeah, pretty much."

Carlyle: "Ugh…" Carlyle sighs in disgust and taps out a command, shutting down the scanner and pulling out an auto-suture instrument from a nearby drawer. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll handle things from here. You may go. Scott, sit up."

Harper: "Thanks Doctor. Ryder: I'll be close by if you need me." Harper turns and leaves the med-bay.

Doctor Carlyle begins to suture the cut on Scott's head. Carlyle: "Okay Scott: what really happened?"

Scott: "I told you already-Ow!"

Carlyle: "SAM: what happened? How did your Pathfinder get like this?"

Scott: "You leave SAM out of this-Hey! Gah! I went to see Dad, okay!"

Carlyle: "And what happened then? Did you discover another saboteur? Or did you get drunk off your ass and biotically surfed a table into a wall? There, that's done." Doctor Carlyle pulls the auto-suture away from Scott's closed cut and applies a band of medigel across the wound. Carlyle: "Don't touch that for at least four hours. If it itches, don't scratch! That's a good sign. It means it's healing."

Scott: "How did you know I was drunk last night?"

Carlyle: "You obviously haven't seen the recent social media yet. To hear the rumors, half the station was in Vortex last night when you had your little "biotic bender". The video showing you Lifting a table and surfing on it across the room into the stage is quite popular."

Scott: "Oh jeez…"

Carlyle: "Indeed. And if half the station wasn't there last night, half the station has been through the Vortex by now, just to get a look at the new flag. Rumor has it that Director Tann is furious, by the way."

Scott: "Oh, cry me a river-"

Carlyle: "Now, given that no one was dragged in with you, there is no general alarm about an attack, and because I can find none of the alcohol concentrations in your blood or tissues to indicate you have been drinking… what happened?"

Scott grinds his teeth and closes his fists on the edges of the table. Scott: "I went… to see… my father."

Carlyle purses his lips. Carlyle: "Lie back. I'm going to give you a general anesthetic to numb the pain while I fix your nose and hands. I'll leave the bruises on your arms to heal on their own, but you've got several stress fractures in your finger-and-wrist-bones that are going to take some careful regeneration to fix. This should only take a few minutes."

Doctor Carlyle extracts a hypo-spray from a nearby drawer, carefully measures out a dose of anesthetic, before administering the drug to the skin of Scott's neck. The anesthetic immediately begins to work, and Scott falls into the depths of a light sleep.

Carlyle: "SAM, monitor his condition. This should be fairly routine, but I don't want to take a chance on any surprises."

SAM: "Of you wish, Doctor."

The surgery proceeds quickly. After inserting a breathing tube, Doctor Carlyle activates the medical-bay's onboard VI to handle the actual surgery. Mechanical arms extend, slotting the instruments into place while Carlyle monitors the process. Soft breathing tubes insert into the nasal cavities, both to facilitate air and all the nostrils to retain their proper shape. Slight incisions are made to the skin around the nasal bone, carefully loosening up the tissues. Tiny paddles align the nasal bones back into place, form-fitting around the breathing tubes, before microscopic lasers seal and suture the bone breaks. Finally, medigel is applied across the site, and the breathing tubes are removed.

Doctor Carlyle tapes a bandage in place over Scott's nose after injecting an anti-inflamation drug to prevent over-swelling of the tissues before turning to deal with his damaged hands. Carlyle tapes out another command on the tables VI, activating a pair of bone regeneration units and sliding them around Scott's scabbed and flaccid hands.

Carlyle: "Alright SAM. While he's out, will you please tell me what happened to him?"

SAM: "He wanted to see Alec. I advised against it, but Scott insisted. He was… upset."

Carlyle: "I see. Is this the first time he's had an outburst like this?"

SAM: "I am not a blabbermouth, Doctor. Or a gossip. If you want to know more, you should ask the Pathfinder directly."

Carlyle: "SAM…"

SAM: "Yes Doctor?"

Doctor Carlyle sighs but says no more until the regeneration units have completed their work. He removes the units, and then injects Scott with another compound to awaken him.

Carlyle: "Alright Scott, that's all for now. Just let me put some bandages on those hands and you'll be out of here."

Carlyle pulls out a roll of thin flex-bandages and tape from a near-by drawer, and begins wrapping Scott's hands.

Carlyle: "Scott… have you been having… nightmares? Trouble sleeping?"

Scott: "Has SAM been talking to you?"

Carlyle: "Scott, I really think you should take some time and talk to someone."

Scott: "I told you Doc, I don't have the time, and if anyone found out-"

Carlyle: "If anyone found out than it would be perfectly natural, considering everything you've been through in the past few weeks."

Scott: "Harry, what about the last few weeks has been "natural" to you. And besides, anyone who might be able to help me is probably already swamped trying to keep an entire station from simply floating off in a red haze of anxiety and paranoia."

Carlyle: "What about Doctor T'Perro? She's certainly qualified, and its part of her status as Pathfinder's Medic."

Scott: "You want me… to talk about my feelings… with the Corpse Cutter?"

Carlyle: "The… what?"

SAM: "Doctor T'Perro set up a makeshift morgue and dissection laboratory while on Eos in order to study the kett."

Carlyle: "Ah. Yes, well- Doctor T'Perro is extremely thorough. And I have read the reports she sent from Eos and… that isn't what's important right now!"

Scott: "Sorry Harry, but someone who makes a point of poking around in other creature's guts when they hove other things like scanners and simulators, just sends all the wrong signals, you know."

Carlyle: "And poking around in caves and forests when one has holo-vids and stories is so antithetical."

Scott: "Harry… ugh."

Carlyle: "SAM, please send a message to Doctor T'Perro? The Pathfinder is in need of a private counseling session at the earliest opportunity."

SAM: "As you wish, Doctor. Pathfinder?"

Scott: "Don't see how I can get out of it."

Carlyle: "Alright then, that's settled. And I'm all done."

Scott: "Thanks' Doc. For everything." {Scott's tone indicates' he is speaking sarcastically.}

Scott gets off the table and exits the medical bay. Doctor Carlyle watches him as he leaves until the door slides shut.

Carlyle: "SAM, watch out for him, please. He's all we've got, and right now… I'd say he's the best we've got."

SAM: "Of course, Doctor."

{End Addendum.}

…

Author's Note: Apologies for the slow down everyone. I'm developing and writing this story as it comes, not to any particular plan. We'll get off to Aya soon, I promise. Also, writing dialogue sucks.

Right now, the vote 3-0 in favor of Havaarl. Should be interesting.