As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
The woman's hard gaze moved quickly to the floating pallet and she began at once to bark orders. The two who had been guiding the pallet obeyed with alacrity. They hastily transferred the injured visitor to a waiting examination table and then disappeared with their stretcher through an inner door.
"This is our medic, Commander Malla," Saret whispered. "I'd introduce you but she will be irritated to be interrupted." Said medic had already grabbed some small device from a nearby stand and was holding it close to Snape's chest.
"What is she doing?" Kingsley moved around to face her from across the other side of the examination table. He saw that her features were tense with concentration, but whether she was concerned he was unable to determine. He glanced back at the interpreter. "Tell her his ankle is shattered."
Serat complied, or anyway said something to which the woman grunted a short reply. "She is merely obtaining information. Of course we don't know what is normal for your species, but certainly it is not whatever telemetry she is reading from him. No doubt she will use your values for comparison. She has noted the damaged appendage."
Kingsley nodded shortly. "Fine. Now tell her I am about to release a tourniquet." And as he unwrapped the makeshift bandaging, he muttered the finite incantatum that released the magical binding without waiting for any reply.
The medic nearly jumped as the flow of blood suddenly returned to her patient's limb. She muttered angrily and slammed her palm against the wall. Not merely an expression of anger, this action caused a section of the wall to disappear revealing shelves of unidentifiable Muggle equipment including a sort of plastic cuff colored a sickly greyish blue that she yanked out in a rush. She wrapped it around Snape's ankle and depressed a bright green tab embedded in the plastic and the cuff swelled and tightened about the appendage. Finally she took a moment to glare at Kingsley then Serat. But when she spoke it was with great calm.
Serat translated. "She says you are careless."
"Hm" Kingsley suspected the interpreter of censorship.
"She wants to know how long ago you applied the tourniquet."
Kingsley shrugged. "Can't really be sure about that. Sometime after nightfall when we first arrived." He watched the medic's expression but it did not change. She merely grumbled something Serat did not translate, and returned to holding her device over various sites of Snape's anatomy.
The woman replaced the device on the stand and began to fumble with Snape's frock coat buttons at his neck. She must not have had much patience for after less than a second she had muttered an invective and ripped the garment halfway open. Kingsley winced and ducked as the small, cloth covered buttons became angry projectiles. They clattered on the metal floor and were followed by the buttons of his white linen shirt. She placed two long fingers at his throat seeming to search the pale flesh for his pulse. She must have found it for at once the fingers went still.
A short conversation ensued between Malla and Serat and then Serat translated again. "She wants to examine you both before giving the antitoxins."
Still frowning five minutes or so later, she made the same gestures about Kingsley's body with her hand held tool and then shoved it against a small console so unobtrusively built into the wall the Auror hadn't recognized it for what it was. The previously blank screen embedded flush to the wall suddenly flared and glimmered with columns and rows of alien symbols. A moment later, in the lower left corner, an image appeared. It seemed a cartoon of the unconscious wizard, showing a clear structure of bones, including a less than cohesive collection of broken pieces that had been an ankle. The image focused on this area and it overtook the whole image area, resolving itself so clearly as to reveal tiny shards embedded in muscle and flesh.
An impressive bit of technology. None but a magical healer would know these things without such an aid. But how was she going to fix it?
Even as he was caught up in this image a second one, of an uninjured ankle, appeared in the lower right corner. It was not a generic representation, but rather a real, uninjured structure as exemplified by a thin line showing where an earlier, neater break had been repaired. Moreover, the bone structure was slightly different: thicker, perhaps.
With a start Kingsley realized it was his own ankle being displayed. He wanted a closer look, but as he started toward the display, that image changed. Snape's uninjured ankle, he deduced. Nearby, the woman spoke to Serat and Kingsley again turned to the interpreter for a translation.
"She can fix it. But first she wishes to take care of countering the toxins from the insect stings and bites."
"I feel fine. Take care of my companion--"
"The equipment is synthesizing the appropriate antitoxins now. They will be administered shortly."
Kingsley let his eyebrows rise slightly. Serat's words were not an offer, but rather an edict. "You realize that we probably are not exactly like you."
"Not to worry. the analyzer hasn't made a mistake yet and we've dealt with species far different from either of us."
Now Kingsley's eyebrows rose of their own accord. But he brought them down and reminded himself that he ought not be so ready to trust. "I believe we might be better off if you could just return us to our own world." He silently bemoaned the fact that his size was not so imposing among these people.
"Love to, old man. But we aren't quite sure how you got here to begin with. So we can't." The interpreter had the good grace to look sheepish. "A thorough investigation must be made."
The console where Malla was still waiting made a sharp ping followed by a soft hiss. The woman lifted a small vial and studied its contents for just a moment before shoving it into a device that reminded the Auror of nothing so much as a muggle pistol. "What is that?" He asked.
Serat gave him a peculiar look before responding, "An injector. The antitoxins will be injected straight into your bloodstream." He spoke to the medic again and she made a curt reply before moving back to Snape's side. She rested the end of the pistol-like device against his neck.
Kingsley's rushed step toward them was halted by a soft pop. He was too slow to interfere.
Serat grabbed his forearm and held him back. "You and he are not completely alike, so your injection will be a little different. Please, do not worry so much. Our medical facilities are quite advanced."
He wasn't convinced but there wasn't much he could do besides watch the woman closely. Snape had not reacted to the injection. But as he was unconscious this was no surprise. Still, he did not appear any worse. The medic repeated the procedure of synthesizing medication and inserting the ampule into her device before approaching the Auror. He glared warningly at her and she glared back.
"Please be reassured, this is necessary." Serat insisted. He nodded to the waiting medic who quickly and deftly administered the injection to the vein in Kingsley's neck. The interpreter visibly relaxed and gave his charge a brilliant smile. "Good show! Now let's get you settled. I'm sure you are feeling more than a bit ready for the showers and a new set of clothing after roughing it in the wild," he babbled cheerfully, all the while herding the Auror toward the exit.
An interminably long time later, during which the interpreter rattled on endlessly about how fascinating he found Earth television and radio programming, Kingsley found himself deposited in a surprisingly large and well appointed bedroom with a small bath attached. A very small bath; there was no tub, only a peculiar looking shower with no faucets or shower heads. At least the commode looked fairly normal.
Serat made short work of the tour of the accommodations, finishing with, "Please feel free to refresh yourself. I shall return shortly with word on your companion and perhaps the criminals you said had been on the world with you." He smiled and left quickly.
Kingsley felt his body responding to the offered comforts with weary desire and he opted to try out this "sonic shower." The explanation, that it used low vibrations of air rather than water to cleanse was supposed to assure the skeptical wizard that it cleansed at least as well as a cascade of water and was far more practical given the lack of any great source of water on a spaceship. Perhaps this was so, but there was a decided lack of the sense of refreshment one gained from a pleasantly warm shower-bath. Besides, it left him with a nagging ache right between his eyes. This Muggle waterless shower did not suite him at all and he doubted it suited these space going folk any better.
He muttered a cleansing spell that only just barely did the job and he dressed in his still torn but at least clean robes. The door, of course, refused to open and he was considering using magic when it suddenly did open and Serat strode in nearly bowling over the slighter Terran. The interpreter's startled expression didn't last long. It was replaced by one of mild dismay.
"What's wrong? I thought you said your medic could take care--"
"Oh! Yes. No, it's not your companion. He's still unconscious, but doing well. No, no. It's the others... The ones you said were criminals. I'm afraid we were too late. They're dead."
Kingsley frowned. "Are you certain?" He let no surprise nor disbelief color his voice. But he didn't belive it.
"The searchers found their remains. It was quite gruesome, I'm told."
"What do you mean by 'remains?' Kingsley demanded softly.
"Clothing mostly. What there was of it. Not much more than shredded and bloodied scraps of cloth."
"Cloth? What about their masks? Their bodies?"
"No, no masks that I know of and definitely no bodies."
"Could be a ruse then. To make anyone looking for them think --"
"No." Serat interrupted with a firm shake of his head. "There were no bodies but there were pieces of them."
"I see. That is, I'd like to have a look at these remains."
"Oh I'm sure that's not possible! We would not keep such things. They would have been disintegrated at once!"
"What? Why?"
"Well, all matter belongs to the Void."
Kingsley groaned.
----
He blinked at the emptiness and wondered if he'd truly awakened. "Molly?" he whispered tentatively. Terror struck and he sought another's company. "Control?"