One month turned into 2 months and Thunder could no longer hide the sick feeling she'd been getting for months now. Her breathing changed to more of a wheeze and a painful dry cough wracked her frail frame often. She'd also started throwing up her own oil fuel. Something was very wrong, she knew that.
Behind her Pol was nearly sick herself with worry. She scolded herself numerous times for feeling such things for an enemy. She'd been scolding herself so much lately that she began to wonder if she was going mad.
Watching globs of spit up oil float by her, Pol sighed and decided to make a call...
...
The phone wasn't entirely unexpected but it still annoyed Westra who groaned and rolled over with a hiss of pain to pick it up.
"Hello?" She rasped, wincing at how terrible her voice sounded.
"Westra?" It was Pol. "Is this a bad time, I could call back..."
"No, no. It's alright. What's going on down there Pol?" Westra asked.
"I need a relief, Westra. Could you send Bridgett down? I'm losing my mind here!" Pol cried.
"Why not let Simon take over?" Westra asked.
"Because he's too annoying for his own good!" came the reply.
Westra bit back a groan. Of course that's exactly the sort of thing Pol would say about the former Japanese whaler. Despite being a former whaler herself, that didn't make Pol trust the young male any better. If anything, she only hated him more. Westra was no psychologist and she didn't even want to begin to think about the psychotics behind that.
"Pol, why do you need to be relieved?" Westra asked.
"I told you, I'm losing it!" Pol replied.
"How?" Westra asked, fighting back a smirk. If there was one thing Pol was, it was melodramatic.
"Westra, I'm serious here." Pol scolded.
"Okay, I'm sorry." Westra replied.
Pol snorted and continued "I'm scolding myself for what I'm feeling. Thunder, she's not doing good Westra. I'm afraid she might be dying."
Westra sighed. "You know you can't act on those feelings, Pol." She said.
"I know but it's bad. I used to be a whaler like her, I know what it's like. It's slave work, Westra and many died from it. I've seen it so much before and I-I don't want to have to see it again." Pol replied.
Westra closed her eyes and said quietly "I understand." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "But you know that you need to remain on station until either I or Bridgett can arrive and that won't be for another few weeks I'm afraid."
"I know, thank you Westra." Pol sighed.
"I'll be seeing you soon Pol, you've done well." Westra replied and hung up.
...
Pol sighed and turned her attention back to Thunder. The smaller ship was coughing again and she spat a goodly sized chunk of oil mixed with mucus.
"Thunder!" She called. "Are you sure you won't stop?"
Unlike the last times she'd called out to the poacher, she wasn't challenging. She was more concerned and Thunder was aware enough to notice the difference for her answer was different than usual too.
"I cannot stop." Thunder replied with a tired sigh.
"Then I will have to stop you." Pol replied. Once this would've been seen as a threat but the Sea Shepherd deputy had a new meaning to her words. One Thunder caught on to.
"If only you could, Pol." Thunder sighed in Norwegian. "If only you could, my beautiful daughter."