Of all the people Dayton had encountered since blasting into space on July 1st, 2010, none had been quite as startling as the woman who accompanied Starbuck into the isolation room along with Hinnus, the med tech. Just beyond the door, the NASA commander could see Colonial Security waiting outside the room. Fully armed.
"Is the honour guard for you, Starbuck, or us?" Dayton asked, resentment coming to the surface that the Colonials felt the need to cover the Earthmen when their medical team came into contact with them. Especially one of Hinnus' size. Hell's bells, the guy looked like he was in training for the Mr. Universe competition!
"Me." Starbuck sighed, shaking his head as the burly med tech pushed the stretcher into place and then began reassessing the lieutenant. "I got a bit out of hand . . ."
"He sometimes does that." Ama agreed ruefully, following the stretcher and looking over the small group of men.
"What happened to Bex and Torg, Starbuck? I didn't see either of them in the hangar." Dayton reflected. One of the many loose ends that weren't as yet tied up to his satisfaction.
"They're both dead," Starbuck returned matter-of-factly. He could see by the look on their faces that they wanted details, but he wasn't in the mood for tales of grand exploits at the moment. "Torg tried to stop me from launching so I turned the Rover's laser on him. Bex made the mistake of thinking he could fly better than I could." He fell silent with a shrug.
Dayton nodded slowly. "This is going to sound weird, but after thirty years of those two, I had always imagined one of us would kill them." He looked to his men, who were nodding in understanding. "I kind of envy you, actually."
"Yeah, well, sorry to steal your thunder." Starbuck replied with a weary shrug. "Maybe we can find another wormhole, go back in time, and try to get it right."
"Uh, I think we can come to terms with it, given time." Ryan assured him, studying the warrior and the strange woman who was watching over him. Starbuck's sudden mood swing was unexpected, considering they were all free now. In fact, from what he had heard so far, Ryan had almost expected that the man would be smuggling in ale and throwing a party at the first opportunity. Actually, the more Ryan thought about it, the sudden personality change had all the indications of his ex-wife's monthly hormonal side trip to Hell. And she had always made sure to pack a complete set of baggage for him and drag him along with her.
"A lady could die of old age before anyone came out with a proper introduction." Ama inserted to draw their attention as they all studied the dispirited warrior curiously.
"Sorry . . . " Dayton replied, concentrating on the wild haired woman who obviously had no dental plan.
Ama shrugged, slowly looking the Earthman up and down . . . and then back up again, before locking her eyes on his. "Don't fash yourself, handsome. Simply correct the situation."
"Uh . . . " Now aladyhadn't looked at him like that since . . . He shook off thoughts of his beloved wife, returning his attention to the woman before him, a vague reference to the 'Wild Woman of Borneo' coming to mind from his past. "Commander Mark Dayton of the United States Space Shuttle Endeavour."
"Pleased to meet you, Commander. I'm Ama, daughter of Arion and Annica of the Empyrean Imperial House. I am the Empyrean Necromancer."
"Uh, what is that exactly?" Ryan piped up, seeing the woman's eyebrows arch in inquiry. "Paddy Ryan, Canadian Space Agency."
"A pleasure, Paddy-Ryan." Ama took the hand proffered and squeezed it, grinning as the man simultaneously pumped it up and down. "Well, I dabble here and there. A diversified portfolio, really. Religious leader, bureautician, sorceress, soothsayer, not to mention entrepreneur of fine tobacco and ale."
"Bureautician? What's that?" Baker asked haltingly.
"Don't be daft, Baker. She refinishes bureaus, you dolt." Ryan informed him, feeling like he had just met an oddball character out of Alice in Wonderland. Make that Paddy in Wonderland.
"We really have to set up a languatron for these guys," Dorado murmured aside to Starbuck.
Ryan continued, "Besides, I'm more curious about the ale."
"You would be." Dayton teased his friend. "Religious leader. Sorceress. Soothsayer. You're an intriguing woman, Ama." He glanced at Dorado to see the man screwing up his face in consternation. Apparently, she wasn't one of the usual players in Colonial life . . . which was somehow reassuring.
Ama turned Ryan's hand over, tracing his palm before she looked back up at Dayton. "More than you could possibly imagine, Commander Mark-Dayton." She smiled lecherously at both men in turn.
"Uh . . . " Dayton stammered, hastily sucking a deep breath through his teeth before turning to the others. "Lieutenant Colonel Robert Baker, Mission Specialist James Porter, and I'm not certain if you know Captain Dorado of the Pegasus, or not?"
"No, I haven't had the pleasure." Ama smiled, releasing Ryan's hand somewhat reluctantly and nodding towards the newcomers. "Robert-Baker, James-Porter, Dorado." She looked to Starbuck. "They have more titles than the archives."
"Bob," said Baker hesitantly. "Just call me Bob."
"Ah, yes," replied the woman, her brows furrowing momentarily. "Bahhb."
Porter motioned to himself, "Jimmy."
Ama raised an expressive eyebrow again. "I'm afraid I'm having trouble keeping up."
"Starbuck, Doctor Salik should be out of surgery soon. I'll need to sonic prep you, and then you'll be going in. Get out of your clothes and . . ." Hinnus paused in thought, as his nose wrinkled at the odour coming off the lieutenant. "Do you think you could tolerate a turbo wash before surgery?"
"Tolerate it?" Starbuck asked. "Hades half hectare, Hinnus, I think it's mandatory. I haven't smelled like this since . . . " He looked at Ama meaningfully. " . . . I first tangled with Lu and Lia and their putrid on Empyrean." His jaw clenched as his gaze swung back to the open doorway, the main Life Station and Luana beyond it.
"I can help him." Ama offered, grinning at Starbuck's hasty shake of his head.
"Are you his mother?" Ryan asked, unsure of the relationship between the two.
Ama smiled sweetly, a hand on one hip as she turned to regard the other, "Do I look old enough to be his mother?"
"Uh . . ."
"I don't need any help," Starbuck assured them, holding up a hand. "Just do something about this line in my arm, and I can attend to my own personal hygiene."
"That's good, because none of us are keen to wash your back." Dayton smiled.
"Or anything else for that matter." Ryan added. "How much time do we have before his surgery?" he asked Hinnus. "I think we all need to catch up on what happened after we split up. We have a few questions for Starbuck."
"I'm not really sure," the med tech replied, capping the intravenous. "Depends on how long it takes to finish Rooke and Dickins."
"Finish them? I don't like the way he said that." Ryan inserted wryly.
"More importantly, why am I having surgery?" Starbuck asked, his hand resting lightly on his abdomen. It felt much better than when he had arrived on the Galactica. In fact, since he'd had his quick fix in the decon chamber, he thought he had it beat.
"There's some kind of tiny metal fragment in your abdomen that's partially imbedded in your colon, Lieutenant. It didn't seem to be the source of infection, but with peristalsis, it's at a very high risk for perforating your bowel."
"Terrific." Starbuck muttered, then paused to consider what it could mean. Not only would they be able to remove the metal fragment, they could do a complete cellular scan eliminating the need for further quarantine. "Will I be off isolation after surgery?"
"Unless something shows up in the scan." Hinnus replied. "But if the scans continue to come up clear, you should be out of here in fairly short order."
"What about the rest of us?" Dayton asked.
"I really have to check with Dr. Salik or one of the senior med techs. I'm newer here, so I'm not familiar with that specific policy." Hinnus replied.
"Really?" Dayton drawled, wondering if their medical isolation would go on indefinitely . . . or if it would just feel that way. Face it, Dayton, you're just a little sensitive about being locked up after the last thirty years.
"He is actually," Starbuck confirmed. "Ease up, Dayton. It's just procedure. Obviously Dorado never contracted anything from you guys, and vice versa, so you'll be out of here soon enough. I'm sure the Commander is pulling his hair out waiting for the quarantine to end so he can come visit you personally. Our people are going to be very excited to hear that men from Earth are here on the Galactica. It's the best thing that happened for the moral of the Fleet since we . . . "
"Since your betrothal was announced." Ama interjected.
"Actually, I was going to say . . ." Starbuck attempted to return.
"You're engaged?" Dorado asked in amazement.
"To an Imperial princess," Ama added.
"What?" Dorado laughed, patting him on the back. "Hey, that's great! Always wondered who the girl would be that you were holding out for. She must be pretty damn special."
"Yeah, she is," Starbuck murmured, slipping off the hover-stretcher and moving slowly but surely towards the turbo wash. He let out a deep breath. "She's also in a coma in the other room."
Silence hung heavily in the room as they watched him enter the small facility and close the door quietly, but firmly, shutting them all out.
----------
The last of the asteroid settlers had been shipped off to the Galactica. Apollo could feel the mood gradually shift as the "cutthroats and harlots", as Jolly referred to them, left the pirate base. The teams shifted into high gear, as they went about their assigned duties.
"Captain Apollo," Tuija approached him. "I've done a preliminary analysis of this koivee root that seems to be the main food source here . . . other than the odd rodent or lizard, according to a couple of the locals I spoke with."
"And?" Apollo asked, pleased to see that the spunky and powerfully built botanist, who had been so helpful when Starbuck had gone missing on the planet Empyrean, was a part of the agro team.
"It's loaded with nutrition. In fact, I've never seen a plant with this kind of nutrient density. Not only is it high in carbohydrates, but it appears that it might have anti-microbial and anti-viral qualities as well. It's reacting very similarly to the Purple Panthelon on analysis. Oh, and that's not all; if the growing conditions here are any indication, it would take little in the way of resources to get a high yield crop. Down in the deeper caves it's pretty cold and inhospitable. Closer to the settlement, it's warmer and more humid. Seems the stuff grows like mad in any conditions."
"On what?" asked Apollo. "Not much here but rock and . . . oh."
"Yeah," said the other. "But not just the waste. This stuff is growing on rocks down there too. Like lichens and mosses back home in the Colonies. We could do something with this on the Agro Ship, Captain."
"Sounds promising." Apollo nodded, as he rubbed at the irritated skin at the nape of his neck. The itching had progressively worsened as the mission continued and he had a strong urge to shave his head and be done with it. "No wonder these people were able to survive despite the conditions."
"Only one set back." Tuija added apologetically.
"What's that?"
"It tastes like old hiking boots that have fallen in an outhouse, and marinated there for twenty yahrens." She informed him.
Apollo paused to absorb that, "Oh." He was afraid to ask how she had reached that conclusion. "Sounds appealing."
"But, I believe it could make good fodder for the livestock. It would probably lose its pungency if we ensile it."
"Ensile?" Apollo asked, shifting uncomfortably as he became aware for the first time that the itching that had invaded his scalp had shifted downward to his . . . well . . . suffice it to say he wasn't going to scratch there with Tuija standing in front of him. "The process of preparing fodder by fermenting and then storing it. The ensiled product retains a great deal of the nutrients present in the plant, much more so than if the crop were dried. We also use more of the plant this way. Little is wasted. I would want to investigate further the apparent anti-microbial properties and how that would effect our livestock first though."
"Naturally. Any pharmaceutical use as far as Humans are concerned?" Apollo asked surreptitiously turning to look at the Earth shuttle so he could sneak a discrete scratch.
"Possibly. Again, we will do the bulk of the research back in Chief Carmichael's lab. But preliminary results appear encouraging."
"All right. Thanks for the update, Tuija."
"No problem, Captain. We should be done in just another centar or so. Let me know if you need to be us to work in any other capacity. I know the scrap retrieval and mining teams still have a lot of work ahead of them."
"They'll appreciate the offer." Apollo smiled at the tireless woman. "Anything to get off of this hunk of rock as soon as possible."
"Uh, Captain . . ." Tuija regarded him curiously, dropping her voice a bit, "I couldn't help but notice you seem to have been afflicted by the same parasite that a lot of the women and children carried."
"Well, yeah . . . I . . . uh . . ." he squirmed in embarrassment. It was bad enough to be experiencing the parasitic infestation, but to have it observed and commented on by this woman . . . any woman . . .
"I believe I've found a deterrent to the pest." Tuija informed him.
"You have?"
"Yes, I think so. Mind you, there is some risk in that we haven't exactly analyzed the remedy, so I'm not entirely sure it's without its own risks . . . though I suspect those would be more long term related and likely not applicable to a dose or two."
"A dose of what?" Apollo asked.
"The local hooch." Tuija replied with a tentative smile. "Seems that the pirates drank it exclusively, not sharing it with the women or children, thank the Lords of Kobol for that small measure of common sense. You can imagine the state the wee ones would be in otherwise. Now, I understand that the prisoners also had their own supply in the tunnels. Both concoctions were fermented koivee based."
"Uh . . . have you tested your theory?"
Tuija screwed up her slightly flushed face guiltily before admitting, "I couldn't stand it anymore, Captain. I was ready to jump out an airlock. Either that or tear my hair out from head to toe and rub myself down with a bristly brush. Believe me, that's a sight no one wants to see. Besides, one does have to test one's theories."
Apollo couldn't help the smirk that spread across his features at first the image she described, and then her rational explanation for imbibing on a mission. Her chagrined wince as she awaited his response only made it more absurd, and a chuckle involuntarily escaped him, especially when he recalled he was recently considering shaving his head.
"I understand that in ancient times, it was customary to issue a jigger of intoxicant to servicemen on a daily basis." Tuija mentioned.
"That's true. I didn't realize you studied military history as well as botany."
"Only the more entertaining aspects of it," she replied with a wan smile before shrugging. "Both my parents were teachers."
"Ah, I see. And one dose cured your . . . infestation?" Apollo asked.
"Well, my dose may have been a little larger than the Colonial Service's standard measure, but essentially, yes. One dose will do you."
"Well, then, start passing it out to those afflicted. And Tuija?"
"Oh, I'll make sure it doesn't get out of hand, Captain." She raised a hand hastily in assurance.
"No, no. I just wanted to let you know, if I'm not in the hangar, I'll be in the control room in the tunnel."
"Understood," she grinned as she turned to go.
"Captain!"
Apollo turned in the direction of the technician approaching him. He saluted, and handed Apollo a data pad. Apollo perused it.
"We're certain we can tow the Earth shuttle out of here intact." Rimas told him. "I suppose her age protected her integrity. They ripped her apart, but a lot of her innards are scattered around indiscriminately, mostly discarded or forgotten. Most of them wouldn't be compatible with anything else, after all. At least that was what one of the pirates claimed."
"How can you even tell what belongs to her?" Apollo asked curiously.
"At this point, if we don't recognize it, we're assuming it's hers." Rimas grinned wryly. "These, for example." He held up a thin silver disc about the width of a splayed hand.
Apollo took it from the other, watching the light reflect off the almost mirror-like surface, creating a prism of colours reminiscent of the lighting in that trendy dance club on the Rising Star. He turned it over to reveal a slightly less reflective surface with hand written characters on it. He glanced again at the white shuttle, trying to compare the script without any obvious success. "Any idea what it is?"
"Well, I suspect it's for recording data of some sort. Our ancestors used something similar centi-yahrens ago, shortly after computrons were invented. There are quite a few. Admittedly, some look like they were used to play hover-catch with."
"It could just as easily come from another civilization, as Earth's." Apollo suggested, handing it back.
"True enough, but . . . " he paused dramatically, "there's a data drive on the Earth shuttle that fits it." Rimas smiled at growing excitement on the captain's face. "Of course, it's in about twelve different pieces, and I'm not sure all of them are there." He shrugged. "Hopefully, the Earth men will be able to help us with the reassembly." He paused, looking over to the Endeavour once again before asking tentatively, "Do you really think she's from Earth, Captain?"
Apollo smiled slightly, nodding at the tech. "Yes, I do."
"So we might be close?"
"That remains to be seen. We don't know the whole story yet. For now, this is all classified information. We don't want people getting excited about Earth being around the next corner, if it isn't."
"Understood, Sir. It's just . . . we've all been feeling like a caravan of tinkers, not really sure where we're going, or even if we're going to eventually get there. It's just nice to know Earth is really out there, and not just a legend in the Book of the Word."
"There has been some correlating evidence we've come across on our journey to substantiate that legend."
"Begging your pardon, Sir, but most of us 'little people' want something a bit more conclusive than some announcement from the Council of Twelve about some log book that we'll never see and couldn't read even if we did, found on some planet that none of us were ever on."
Apollo nodded, recalling the excitement that the book—depicting the story of Prodo, and his ship, the Empurios, when what had remained of the Empyrean people left the thirteenth tribe to settle on the planet Alrin millennia ago—had stirred. Of course, there was also Count Iblis' words about Earth, some of them recounted to him by the Commander, not to mention John, and the Ship of Lights. However, they would be considered to be simply more hearsay to people like Rimas. Sagan sakes, even he and Starbuck had had differing opinions of what those beings were, and ultimately what they could mean to the Fleet. At least the two friends had agreed that they seemed trustworthy and benevolent above all else.
"When will you be ready, Rimas?" Apollo asked.
"Within the centar. We need to finish sealing her up and making sure she holds together for the trip."
All right, good work." Apollo restrained himself from patting the man on the shoulder as he turned for the tunnels, again getting in a surreptitious scratch and wondering how long it would be until he got a dose of the local hooch.
Boomer had already laid the ground work for blowing the pirates' base. He had planted and activated a homing device deep in the mine, which would guide one of the Galactica's missiles through the asteroid field to its target. Now the lieutenant was delving into how to destroy the Dynamos from the control room, minus one for Dr. Wilker to analyze. Unfortunately, someone had thoroughly torn the place apart as part of the escape plan.
Apollo headed in that direction, optimistic that the team of techs along with his resourceful friend, had come up with a plan that would eliminate the need for them to track the spheroids down one by one via Viper to ultimately destroy them. He checked his chrono, sparing a thought for his friend back on the Galactica and wondering how Starbuck had fared following his evident collapse while piloting his Viper. Likely, by now the wayward lieutenant would have been reunited with Luana in the Life Station. He hoped to God they were both all right.
And he hoped to God that Tuija would be along soon with his dose of parasite repellent.
----------
That all too familiar sound of the medical monitoring equipment tugged Starbuck out of anaesthesia to blink at the blurry face of Dr. Paye peering down at him.
"Everything's fine, Starbuck. We removed the metal fragment without any complications." Paye told him, thankful that they had the intraoperative treatments available in the Life Station that could accelerate the healing process, thereby permitting him to laser seal the wound, instead of awaiting the tedious process of allowing the body to recover at its own somewhat slower rate and inserting a wound drain in the meantime. "I've also repaired the fractures above and below your right eye. They were hairline, so there was no serious damage. The swelling will still take a while to come down so we'll keep your head elevated in the meantime."
Above the visibly weary physician, the ceiling was passing by in a blur and Starbuck could feel the hover-stretcher moving beneath him. He was in transition apparently, the last thing he remembered was having a conversation in the operating room with Dr. Paye that was becoming increasingly difficult to follow subsequent to being hustled there after the most necessary turbo wash in the history of Mankind.
"Your tests came back negative from an infection control point of view," Paye continued, as he glanced ahead. "You're off isolation as of now, so we'll move you into the main ward of the Life Station."
"Near Luana." Starbuck muttered, touching his face and feeling the gooey residue of some kind of ointment on his excoriated skin.
"Right," he snorted. "You think I'm going to place you two side by side and watch your blood pressure go screaming out of a launch tube? Or mine?" Paye grimaced. "I could just see it, you'd have the place in a constant uproar until Salik or I evicted you, like the last time . . . " he muttered more to himself than the lieutenant. "Or was that the time before? You're here so often, I'm getting you confused with the fixtures."
"Doc . . . "
Paye stopped the hover-stretcher looking back down at the warrior. "Then again, if I don't put you near her, you'll spend the next two centars planning a covert penetration operation of skullduggery and stealth, trying to make it across the Life Station unobserved, in the meantime pulling out every tube we inserted and making a general nuisance of yourself." He seemed to change his mind, rolling his eyes, and started pushing the hover-stretcher in another direction. "Fine, have it your way."
"Doctor Paye, how is Luana?" Starbuck asked the exhausted looking man who had already informed him moodily that he had pulled his first shift on the team that boarded the 'rioting' Malocchio, to then do his regularly scheduled day, to almost immediately be called back to do a postmortem to verify the identity of a charred corpse, only to then rush Lieutenant Rooke of the Pegasus into surgery, most certainly saving his life, and finally to discover that there was another two shuttles full of civilians on their way that would require general assessments, parasitic treatment, isolation precautions, and God knew what else. Meanwhile, he and Salik were being pressured by various annoying Council members to clear the newcomers from isolation so they could commence their 'bureaucratic shenanigans'.
Paye stopped the stretcher again. "Lords, Starbuck, I'm sorry. I didn't tell you."
"What?" his mouth was suddenly dry, but then he saw the physician shake his head in denial even as he started sitting up.
"No, no. Nothing like that. The neural patterns that we were worried about stabilized, so we reduced Ensign Luana's sedation, bringing her slowly out of the coma. She's breathing on her own now. Salik is with her, extubating her."
"Extubating?" He relaxed a bit, feeling Paye's hand push him back down as his hope began to rise.
"Pulling the tube that was breathing for her out of her throat," he explained.
"Is she awake?"
"I don't know. Let's go find out." Paye smiled slightly before beginning to push again. "I remember when we used to have porters that did this felgercarb," he muttered as he collided with the corner of the wall, jostling his patient. "Damn."
Paye pushed the hover-stretcher back to the main ward where a smattering of other patients occupied a few biobeds. A partition surrounded the space that Starbuck remembered Luana occupying. Lia paced there, stopping only when she saw the lieutenant's approach. She walked to the hover-stretcher, assisting the physician to line it up with the biobed nearest to Luana's.
"Scoot over," she told him, then smiled weakly as she saw him tugging on the scanty Life Station gown he was wearing, trying to maintain some modesty. "And mind your skirt."
"Watch your line." Paye added, guiding the intravenous equipment as the warrior slowly moved to the slightly larger biobed.
"How's she doing, Lia?" Starbuck asked, his eyes drawn to the closed partition.
"Breathing on her own, but still unconscious." Lia replied quietly.
Lia looked wiped out. Clearly she had been at her sister's side since Luana had entered the Life Station, but just when that was, Starbuck was uncertain. They still hadn't found her when the rescue mission had launched.
"Come here." Starbuck told her, sitting up and pulling her into a tight hug. She trembled as she clung to him, feeling utterly helpless, but at least not so alone anymore since Ama had been transferred to the Isolation Unit a couple centars before.
"They all thought you were dead," Lia whispered, feeling his deep sigh in reply. "Ama knew though . . . somehow she knew . . . " She held him tightly, savouring the warmth and comfort that only came through the love of family. And even though they weren't related by blood, the Colonial Warrior had been 'family' since saving her life in a raging river on Empyrean, only to have her return the favour shortly thereafter.
"I wish she could be so certain about Lu." Starbuck murmured to the young woman.
"One of the necromancer's abilities is to communicate with the spirits of the dead." Lia sniffed, wiping away a stray tear as she pulled back to look at him with a faint smile. "I guess you didn't show," she explained.
"I hope she wasn't too disappointed." Starbuck returned, his gaze again drawn to the partition as it began to open.
Salik stepped back to reveal the still unconscious Luana, med tech Hinnus on her other side clearing away some medical supplies. Starbuck let out a gasp of surprise at her overall condition. Deep bruising encircled her throat and a red, thin line indicated recent laser healing to the same area. Small bandages encircled her wrists and her body seemed to be a mass of continuous bruising which somehow hadn't quite made the same impact when he had first seen her from metrons away before he was isolated.
"What the frack happened to her?"
Four sets of eyes turned to him in stunned silence, watching as he began to swing his bare legs off the biobed. His body was taut with anger . . . no, fury, that someone would . . . dare . . . lay a hand on his . . .
"Now wait just a centon!" Paye declared, reaching to salvage the intravenous line and hold the infuriated warrior back by his shoulder.
"Lords, are we going to have to call Security again!" Hinnus demanded, at Starbuck's side in a few quick steps.
"Starbuck! Stop! Now!" Salik shouted mere centimetrons from his face. He positioned himself up against the man, blocking his attempted escape from his bed, the bulky med tech beside him. "I know you're upset, but if you want to be with her, we'll simply push the beds together. You don't need to get out of hand here."
"Just sedate him." Paye suggested from behind.
"Is that what you'd have me do, Lieutenant?" Salik demanded. "Frankly, we don't have time to deal with this right now. Most of my staff are in a landing bay full of people who need to be treated, not to mention that we have two isolated men in critical condition, and Ensign Luana here just off the respirator. Have I made myself clear?" His eyes bored into the other's for a long moment of ear splitting silence.
"Yes, Sir." Starbuck replied slightly more subdued, his body still tense at the shock of seeing . . . Lords, what were you expecting? The truth was, he didn't really know all the details of what had happened to Lu. Boomer had told him that Luana went missing while trying to get to the bottom of the triad scandal, and that Borka had been forced to reveal her whereabouts. Then Athena had revealed her subsequent medical condition, but not how she had sustained her injuries. It was like an old, mystery novel that had crucial parts torn out of it and he was stumbling around in the dark trying to find the missing pages. And, to top it all off, most of the main characters were unavailable for answers; Lu was unconscious, Borka was in the brig and probably not receptive to a tête-à-tête, Boomer was back on the pirate base with the salvage crews, and Oriana . . . Lords, that poor woman was dead. And all because some uptight Councilman had accused him of cheating at triad! How did it all get so out of hand?
The health team stood back, Salik staring him down until Starbuck pulled his legs back onto the biobed, though he remained sitting up. Then, true to his word, the Chief Medical Officer pushed the beds together, lowering obstructing side rails before turning to the warrior once again.
"Starbuck, I'd like to have the luxury of going over all this with you in detail, but there just isn't the time right now. I'm giving you the straight facts, because that's what I believe you want to hear. Am I right?"
Starbuck nodded briskly.
"I thought as much." Salik nodded. "Physically, she's doing well. All that remains to be seen is how extensive the brain damage was due to the lack of oxygen. Now we're experimenting with neural stimulation treatments, an evolving therapy that was breaking ground just before the Destruction. Both Paye and I read some optimistic reports on evaluative test cases that responded favourably to frequent, intermittent therapeutic sessions immediately following injury. Having said all that, we've consulted with Dr. Jocquin on the Rising Star who followed the studies much more closely as a resident specializing in Neurology. Even with what we all believe is the best course of action, we really aren't going to know how much this has effected her until Ensign Luana wakes up. There is definite damage visible on her scans, both to the left temporal as well as parietal lobes, but how that will convert to alteration of function and cognitive capacity, we won't know until she wakes up." He let out a sigh. "And that's if she wakes up. There is a slight chance that she won't."
Somewhere during the explanation, Starbuck had switched his gaze to Luana. He shook his head in denial that the beautiful woman before him, who appeared to simply be in a deep sleep, might not awaken. Or even worse, might end up in some kind of vegetative state. C'mon, Bucko. You're supposed to be an optimist. But fear had a way of twisting around optimism like a bone crushing serpent, until it was mangled beyond all recognition.
"Now, having said all that, if . . . or rather when she wakes up, she's going to need all the support she can get. If you think this is hard on you, imagine how much harder it will be on a young woman in the prime of her life to be facing potential extensive rehab as a best case scenario . . . " The CMO trailed off wearily before letting out a disheartened breath.
Starbuck tore his gaze from Luana. "Wait a centon. Athena said she might be fine. What do you mean by 'a best case scenario'?"
Salik's lips tightened, and he shook his head slightly, as if in regret. "Dr. Jocquin has been helping us out with the rest of our workload, and only just had the opportunity to sit down and evaluate the final results of the latest modified scan. There is conclusive damage, but she's still optimistic that the neural stimulation treatments will help."
"Frack . . . " How it could be going from bad to worse, he wasn't sure . . .
"Basically, you're saying we still have to wait until she wakes up to find out for sure how extensive her brain damage is." Lia summarized, holding her chin up and blinking back tears simultaneously. She reached for Starbuck's hand, noting his white knuckles and he gripped the rail on the biobed. "But, regardless, she's not going to be . . . herself."
"Basically." Salik nodded, looking at his chrono and then to Paye. "Life Station or Landing Bay?"
Paye rolled his eyes, obviously not keen on either choice. "I'll take the Life Station. Med tech Waheeb has whipped that store room down the hall into shape for a temporary secondary Isolation Unit. It's not ideal, but it's better than contaminating our main facility. We've also modified three of the decon chambers, so we can begin the de-lousing before the incomers even leave Beta Bay. Waheeb is standing by there."
"All right." He sighed. "We're doing the best we can with what we've got." Salik reminded his peer.
"Still, it's not ideal."
"Hasn't been for some time, Paye." Salik looked back to Starbuck and Lia before turning to go. The young ensign had again embraced the lieutenant and was clinging to his side, looking up at him in concern. It almost appeared that she was trying to comfort him. For his part, his hand was covering his face, his head bowed, his thoughts and feelings hidden from them. "Get some rest, Lieutenant. That's an order."
A faint nod was the extent of his response.