Braddon awoke, he felt terrible. The first thing he noticed was a slow beeping noise. A mysterious masculine voice said, "He's awake." Then movement. He focussed the camera. One camera, he was still limited to his auxiliary circuits! Panic started to set in. He tried adjusting his hormones, but found he couldn't. What was going on? A figure was approaching him. "Stop!" He yelled, pleased to find that his speaker was still functioning. "Get away! Don't come any closer!" The figure took a step back and raised both their palms in an act of submission. "Braddon, calm down, it's OK, just me Chaz, Sam's brawn." His heart was racing, and the beeps were getting faster to match. He felt confused, like he was still dreaming.

"Chaz?"

'Yeah buddy, just me"

"You were on the ship…"

"Yeah mate, got you out."

The beeps were starting to slow. He was beginning to understand what had happened and was becoming more aware of his surroundings.

'Is that a heart rate monitor?"

"Yeah, you had us all quite worried."

"Where am I?"

He was in a room with obnoxiously yellow walls, and a simple green chair.

"You are in the Pride of Albion, a hospital station near Rigel base. We thought about taking you back to central, but some experts decided to meet us here instead."

"Am I drugged? I don't feel so good, why don't I have access to my hormones or nutrients?"

"Braddon, you're sick. You were left open too long, something must have got in. The doctors are controlling your feeds for now. Don't worry though, it is just a simple infection, they tell me you are likely to make a full recovery." The beeping continued to slow.

"Chaz, I need more inputs, please this auxiliary is suffocating me!"

"The doctors say it is better for you to rest for now, and that includes resting your brain, but we are working on getting a servo for you to drive around. Something with an arm and a camera at the very least."

"Hmm, rest… I just woke up, but I am already tired!"

"You've really never been sick before have you." Chaz mused. "Don't worry, it is normal, not an indication of imminent death at all. Feel free to doze off any time."

Suddenly he remembered the last time he had fallen asleep. "NONONONONO, CAN'T FALL ASLEEP!" He was projecting at full volume. Chaz covered his ears wincing. "SHE'LL GET ME! SHE'LL, she'll, she…" Chaz gingerly brought his hands away from his ears. "What are they going to do to her?" Braddon asked.

Chaz sighed, "Even if I don't tell you now, you will find out soon enough. Braddon, she's dead. You never have to worry about that crazy bitch again." He said it with such anger and force.

"Oh." Braddon muttered.

After a minute of silence Chaz inquired "Braddon, you alright? You heard me ok? She's dead."

He never wanted to cry so badly. He hurt her, but she had also been hurting. She had been cruel, but also passionate. Their year together had its ups and downs, but he clearly remembered the laughter. He loved her, and he hated her, and now she was dead.

"How?"

"Took her own life, found her floating in her suit. Overdosed and untethered, crazy bitch."

Silence.

"Braddon, say something, please, you are making me worry."

"Chaz, I don't know how to cry."

In the end they had to sedate Braddon in order to get him to sleep. Every time he had started to doze off naturally panic would grab him and Chaz copped an earful. When he awoke it played out similarly to the first time with confusion about where he was and yelling at Chaz to stay back. Once he woke up fully and was able to start thinking clearly he apologised.

"I'm acting like a real nutcase aren't I? Her craziness must have rubbed off on me…"

"Braddon, you're not crazy, hell, in your position, I would probably be doing the exact same thing." Came Chaz"s immediate response. "You have been hurt, and that will take time to heal, but you are going to fight it just like you are fighting this infection. With patience, determination, and help from medical professionals."

"Patience huh." They had hooked him up with a small servo, but so far he was still confined to the room. He was driving it round in circles, the equivalent of pacing. He felt small and trapped and weak! Being sick was truly awful. He had a slight fever, and felt constantly cold. His mind felt like there was a fog making everything harder to access and it more difficult to think clearly. It didn't help that his memory banks were back on the ship. His emotions were a rollercoaster, and something he didn't have a lot of practice in dealing with as he was used to simply adjusting his feeds if they became too much.

Chaz furrowed his brow as he began to talk again. "Braddon, I am going to have to leave soon."

The servo stopped suddenly "You're leaving me?!" Braddon started to panic.

"Not right this second, and I'm gonna make sure you are in good hands before I do. Sam and I are with mining, and our boss thinks we should have just dropped you off and left immediately. Sam wouldn't allow it." He started grinning. "And as chance would have it, we discovered a problem with one of the secondary systems that needed repairs before we could lift again."

Discovered, sure. A thought suddenly occurred to Braddon. "Chaz, is this being recorded?"

"Yeah, everything since we found you. Psych is gonna need a look at it. Don't worry though, the files will be kept under very close guard."

"This is so embarrassing…" Braddon groaned.

"Braddon, you have nothing to be embarrassed about! All things considered, I think you have been acting very reasonably indeed."

The servo started to continue its circular path.

"Psych gets here in 3 days to relieve me. They are going to need to hear what happened."

The servo continued to circle.

"Pacifica erased some of the tapes. 12 hours are missing, including how she opened you up in the first place."

Silence.

"Take your time Braddon, but if you are ready to talk about it, just let me know."

The servo stopped.

"Can I talk to Sam?" Braddon asked suddenly.

"That's a great idea, I'll get Lars to patch them through!"

"Lars?"

"Station Brain. Haven't you met?"

"I think so… once… my memory banks are on the ship."

A voice that could have easily been mistaken for an AI came through the room speakers. "You called?" Braddon recognised it as the voice that informed Chaz whenever he woke.

Chaz replied warmly. "Oh yes, would you please put Sam through to this room?"

"Certainly," came the cool reply, and then after a pause, "Braddon, sorry for not introducing myself sooner, I thought you knew this was a brain controlled station. You need anything, just let me know."

Great, another person full of sympathy who has been witness to my downfall! Although it was nice to know that he had someone other than Chaz to call on.

Just then Sam came through the speakers. In their deep baritone they said, "Braddon! How you holding up? They treating you alright?"

"Great, just great." He replied glumly.

"Well, um, great!" Sam said, not entirely sure how to reply. A speechless Sam, that must be a first.

"Sam, I just wanted to thank you." Braddon said suddenly.

"Oh ho ho, you he thanks... " Chaz said in a mocking tone while leaning back in the chair.

"Shut your trap!" Came Sam's feminine voice.

"If it weren't for your idea… " Braddon continued, voice wavering.

"Buddy, no! I should be apologising! My advice was terrible. I should have told you to lock her in her cabin and high tail it back home! I had no idea what she was like, I, I, I'm so sorry!"

"You saved my life." Braddon continued. "And then you even came back to pick up the pieces."

"Of course!" They said. "I was hardly going to just leave you drifting!"

"When you took over my ship, you don't know just how happy I was to hear your voice! I thought I was dreaming… it still feels like a dream… but you saw, didn't you?"

"Saw? What? That bitch in her suit? The mess she made of your shell?"

"ME!" Braddon yelled, "You saw my body!"

"Um, yeah, I guess." came Sam's timid reply. "I didn't get a clear look."

"Am I really that ugly?"

"Whaaa?"

"Ugly enough to make you want to die?!"

Silence lingered in the room for a few seconds. Chaz kept his mouth tightly shut. Discussions on appearance are best left to shells.

"Braddon." came Sam's low voice, straining to stay calm. "She killed herself because she was crazy! Not because of you. We were on her tail, she just realised that she wasn't getting away, that's all. She knew her professional life was over, and she knew what was waiting for her if we took her alive. It wasn't your fault!"

"She said I ruined her life."

"No! No, of course not, she ruined it all by herself!"

"She called me a monster."

"You aren't a monster! You are human! A titanium clad human!"

"She loved me…"

"Whaaa? Braddon, are you out of your mind? She was torturing you! If she loved you she would never have opened that access panel, let alone disconnect your speaker!"

"I, I think I might have loved her too…" No one said anything, so Braddon continued, "But I hate her! She hurt me! I was so scared... but the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited, just like the stars… But she was cruel! Always yelling! Letting her emotions lead her around! But when she spoke gently I felt like the luckiest brain in the world. After she left, I just sat there longing for her to come back! Even after she had opened me up! Man, I am so pathetic! And now she is gone, and I will never see her again, and I am Glad! GLAD! but also heartbroken…" He started ramming the servo into the wall.

Chaz sat there silently looking very worried, eyes flicking between Braddon and the servo.

"Oh Braddon... " said Sam in a gentle feminine tone. "You deserve so much better"

The next few days trickled by slowly. Braddon was upset, humiliated, and bored! He hadn't yet been able to initiate sleep unaided, but his panic attacks were becoming less frequent, and he was calmer when he woke. Chaz had left a few times to go shower and sleep. He had offered to find someone else to sit in during his absence, but Braddon declared that he would rather be left alone. "I'll keep an eye on him." Lars had offered. He had kept his distance, speaking only when required, making sure to give Braddon the space and time he needed. They had hooked him up with a shell frequency communicator, so that he could talk to any brain on the base or within a few dozen light years without going through Lars, or being recorded, but he had been hesitant to use it. "Look at me!" He said when he was alone. "A sick brain sitting around in a hospital room, asleep half the time and driving a servo round in circles! I must be a laughing stock! I feel so pathetic! I wish no one had seen me like this…" He lined up the servo for another charge at the wall. At least his head was feeling clearer, less foggy.

"No one is laughing at you." Came Lars's crisp voice.

He had forgotten his presence, lately he had been forgetting more than usual, probably a side effect of being sick. "They would if they could see me." He pouted.

"I am not laughing."

The servo charged at the wall.

"A sick ship, Ha!"

He backed it up preparing for another run.

"You won't be sick for long, your temperature is pretty much back to normal, the medications are working as expected and so far no sign of any secondary infections."

"I am feeling a little better." He admitted meekly.

"Don't think of yourself as the ship who got sick, but as the ship who recovered. You now have a unique perspective into that softie experience which I am sure will benefit future relations."

The servo charged again at the wall.

"But what do I tell my friends? The other ships when they ask me what am I doing here on the station? And why my ship has been sitting out there, an empty hollow husk!"

"If you don't like the story that has been written, then rewrite it. Oh, also, I have some mail for you." Lars tossed him a data file which Braddon quickly decoded and scanned. It was from Cindy. They sent regular messages to each other as real time communication was difficult with her being installed in a manufacturing facility on Vidaldi, and Braddon off exploring the rim most of the time. It was filled with updates about her life, as well as questions flowing on from his last message. For a moment he felt all warm and happy, as hearing from her was always a delight, but then his heart sank as he thought of what he would write in response.

"Message from a friend?" Lars inquired, interrupting his train of thought.

"Yeah, a classmate. She asked me how I'm doing, and if I will be able to stop by on my way back out. Lars, what do I tell her?"

"Are you planning on hiding this from her forever?"

"No, of course not, of all the people I know, she, well, I know she at least isn't going to think poorly of me."

"Then be honest with her, but that doesn't mean you need to go over every little detail. Say what you can manage, tell her how you are feeling. But if you are not up to it yet, that is ok too. There is always tomorrow."

He agonised over the wording for some time. In the end he sent a very short message:

Cindy,

It was so good to get your letter, I needed a little normalcy right now.

Things aren't going well for me. I was attacked by my brawn. My shell was left open, and I even managed to catch a cold. Ridiculous right? A brain with a cold? I am spending some time at the Pride of Albion. Hopefully I will be able to come visit you soon.

Stay in touch,

Braddon

It was all he had the mental energy for. Hopefully it was enough.

The next day there was a knock at the door. A nurse walked in with a huge vase filled with flowers. "Someone dropped these off at reception." He smiled warmly and placed them on the small side table. Attached to the bouquet was a card that simply said, Get well soon! 3 Cindy. It was a welcome addition to his dreary surroundings.

Lars informed him, "The medics want to come in and take some fluids. Are you ready?" Braddon was still very apprehensive about people coming near his shell. He tried to suppress it, hoping they would let him out of here sooner, but his heart rate monitor always gave him away.

"Give me a sec." He answered directing the servo to the corner of the room that would give him the best view of his shell. He needed to keep them where he could see them. "Keep an eye on them for me won't you?"

"Of course."

The medics came in. After a warm welcome and a polite request for permission the tech got to work on drawing the fluids out of the many tubes extruding from his shell. The other stood directly in front of Braddon's auxiliary camera and started asking all the usual questions.

"Any pain?"

"No."

"How's your head?"

"A bit clearer I guess…"

"Have you noticed any other side effects?"

"I guess, I have been a little forgetful."

"Oh? Hmm, well let me know if it persists. Are you tired?"

"Always," he sighed, "but less so than yesterday."

The vials of fluid had been filled, but the medic was still fiddling with his cables. Braddon's heart rate started to climb.

"What is he doing? Lars! Help!" the panic was clear in his voice.

"Braddon, calm down." The doctor said hurriedly. "He is reconnecting your controls to your hormone feeds, and nutrient line."

"Oh, Huh?" Braddon said, feeling foolish once more.

"You should have warned him." Said Lars, even colder than usual. "I'm in half a mind to report you."

"Sorry Braddon," said the med technician. "Working a little too quick was I?"

"As I was about to explain," The doctor continued, straightening his tie. "Your hormone levels are unlikely to interfere with the remaining treatments, so long as you keep them within normal range, so I saw no reason to continue withholding control from you." He cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to panic you, my sincere apologies."

Braddon's heart rate had started to slow. "Thanks," he said, trying to keep his voice composed and retain what little dignity he had left. "For the feeds I mean. It is good to start feeling like I am back in control."

"We are still monitoring your vitals closely, but in a few of days you should be back to your usual self."

"Will I stop feeling so weary?" He asked.

He flipped through his charts. "We still don't fully understand why different brains have different sleep requirements, and we don't have any previous examples to compare your situation with. There is a chance that this episode will permanently increase your need for sleep, and in the short term it is likely to stick around for a little while. I recommend you get at least 4 hours of deep sleep per 24, and slowly wind it down to 2 over the next month."

Braddon groaned. 4 hours! That was about as much as a 5 year old child!

"We can't have a sleep deprived brain ship up there flying around and bumping into things," The doctor said, gesturing wildly, "so be sure you get enough rest."

"Yes Doctor." Braddon said meekly.

"We also need to break this dependence on sleeping drugs. I understand there is some trauma involved, but I thought your separation from hormone controls might have also been making it difficult. Only if you can't sleep for more than 2 hours after your scheduled time are you to request them."

"Yes doctor."

"All done!" Came the med techs cheery cry. "Braddon, can you test them for me?"

He gave himself a small dose of endorphins, and an extra pump of nutrients.

"Ah... " he said, "Seems all good to me."