| Logs |
2006 May 29
| Hunter |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Hunter Logs |
Part Ten: Dark Lotus
Former Browncoat Low-profile Critical Medicine Center (LOCMEC)
Fleur-de-Croix, moon of Adarra, Mishka Quadrant
Solbiort will wait the hour until Griz returns, then meet her at the airlock and walk with her to the Officer's Lounge. They have tea as Soli explains the terms the crew is comfortable with. Solbiort is a bit embarrassed about asking for the hostages (Griz and her second in command in Security), since it's impolite to ask so directly for them, in her home culture. Hopefully Griz will understand, though.
Solbiort also mentions the non-doubled combat pay up front for everyone, the request for help in hiding the Chimera, the hard deadline of five days tops, and the need for maps of the quickest way to exit the compound should worse come to worse. She will (if the discussion goes well) also curiously ask Griz if she has a copy of 'The Third Way' which she might borrow over the next five days. Griz agrees to the terms for the time being. She does note that she'll need to bounce it off of her own people, but all told that shouldn't be a problem.
Solbiort is relieved to hear it. Once Griz has left to talk to her people, Solbiort has a meeting with everyone crewing the Chimera. "Folks, ve're going to have to be on alert here on the ship for the next five days -- both to keep our 'guests' from doing anything foolish, and to be sure ve're not surprised by an Alliance attack." She looks at Nigel and Elgyn, "If you receive the 'under attack' call you come back here as fast as you can, ya? Elgyn, doesn't matter if Nigel's in surgery -- grab him and run for the ship! Got that?"
Nigel arches a brow at Solbiort, arms across his chest, "You must be awfully serious about that."
Solbiort says, "Am. Vant you both alive and safe. Not our job to fight the Alliance. Our job to keep our crew safe, and the Chimera flying. That make sense to everyone?"
Elgyn nods firmly. "Understood, Captain."
Nigel snorts and shrugs, "You're not actually going to get a lot of argument out of me. I'm not exactly keen to get my arse thrown in an Alliance prison. Especially after the go-se they pulled on the indecicles."
Solbiort nods ruefully to Nigel, and smiles at Elgyn, "Good. Hokay, think that covers everything, unless anyvon else have something they vant to add?" Elgyn shakes his head, and looks at Raj and Molly. Molly shakes her head. Solbiort looks around at the group, then nods a touch worriedly, "All right, ve go then. Nigel, Elgyn, as soon as Griz und her second arrive, you go. Don't lose track of time, please -- five days is it. That's all."
Griz gets word from her immediate superiors that even if it's a lot, there's a need for more skilled help in this matter. So the pay and hostage situation is approved, reluctantly and not without caution. Griz and her second -- a light, slight man by the name of Alouette -- board the ship at the same time Nigel and Elgyn get off. Solbiort makes sure Elgyn & Nigel know which exit the ship is by, and the wait for Nigel and Shian to complete their work begins....
Elgyn goes back to his room and ponders over his equipment... he regretfully leaves his hogleg for encumbrance reasons, figuring his service revolver and krisara will do the job. He brings spare ammo for the revolver, though, his leathers, and a mini-welder and supplies for that. He also grabs his survival kit 'just in case,' and goes to join the others.
Nigel takes the unusual step of not just scrubbing himself up, but actually changing into scrubs before going down into the medical facilities. He looks almost like a normal doctor, but doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands and the relative lack of pockets. He also takes along his personal medkit, and a small bag with a few essentials. Essentials include, of course, a few of his puzzles.
Nigel is chagrined to discover that geeky Dr. Shian has some sort of fanboy complex. "WOW, the Dr. Nigel Baird! Wow! I was told about what you did on Higgins' Moon, when I was interning last year! It's such an honor to meet you, sir, uh, Doctor, I mean!"
Nigel winces at the gushing and holds up his hands as if to fend off a blow, "Aw, ruttin' hell. Just Nigel, please." He peers at the other doctor suspiciously, "Did you hear some shite about me facing Higgins down over a mudder?"
"Nigel, then," Shian breathes the name as if Miu-Miu Beiyang had asked one of her fans to call her by one of her nearest and dearest nicknames. He gathers himself up courageously, though. "No, no, not at all, Doct- er, Nigel. You stood up to him and told him off when he tried to tell you how to do your job! A doctor's got to do what a doctor's got to do, after all, and for standing up to him he... er, well, yeah...." Finally embarrassed at his gushing, he coughs. "Er... we're ready to crack the cryoboxes now, actually...."
Nigel seems to breathe a little more easily at hearing there isn't some Robin Hood story about him all over the whole frelling 'Verse. "Well, I'm ready any time you are, though I'm tellin' you I ain't gorram looking forward to it. Last one pissed me off something fierce, dyin' like that." Elgyn makes a choked noise, as he arrives just in time to hear that.
The cryoboxes are opened and their occupants revived one at a time. While still rather delicate work, it is somewhat easier to do with a second person to help and all the right equipment at hand and knowing what to expect. Shian, for all his fanboy-ness, is reasonably competent and manages to not trip over himself in following Nigel's instructions. He does have enough of his own courage to say 'No, wait, stop -- that'll do all sorts of bad mojo and then it'll be unshiny!' now and then.
Elgyn and Nigel are given reasonably comfortable bunks in the facility, and are also given something of a grand tour of places to get out of the facility in case something happens -- or at least Elgyn does. Nigel uses his bunk when he gets the chance. These indepscicles are more needy in their current state than he would have thought, and he hasn't worked like this since his internship.
A few days have passed since the arrangement was made for Griz and her second to remain aboard the Chimera and for Nigel and Elgyn to be in the base to help Shian revive the two Independent leaders. Currently Griz is facing down Solbiort across a crate in the cargo bay... with a Hnefatafl board on a low crate between them. "Still not my best game," she says, after her third loss to Solbiort.
Solbiort smiles, sitting back and stretching her arms restlessly over her head, "No vorries. Is alvays easier to play a game learned from childhood." She looks around, then sighs softly. Being cooped up with nothing to do grates on her. She looks back at Griz, then curiously asks, "So... vhat do you know of Vintarsen?"
Griz makes a quiet sound, worrying some hunns in her hand. "Brilliant military leader. Gave the Alliance one hell of a runaround in Osterfrau before he relocated to Georgia and got captured on Shadow. Lots of Indeps wanted to go join him, give the Alliance what-for, saw what he was doing as being the best thing for the Independent Factions even if he was always on the verge of splitting off from Indie High Command. I never went to join him -- I stayed with my unit on Prativindhya, saw it as my duty to stay there and fight the Alliance off my home -- but I could respect the girls who wanted to go off and fight for him. I heard he was really charismatic, too. I'm looking forward to talking to him and seeing how accurate the legends are." She glances up at Solbiort. "How about yourself?"
Solbiort shakes her head a bit frustratedly. "Nothing. I mean, I can't find anything out about him, past the obvious dates and scuffles and schtuff. It's like there's been a deliberate attempt to erase him from history -- vhich makes me really suspicious. Gwai-gwai long duh dong did he do to be so charismatic? Vhy can't I find a copy of 'The Third Vay' anyvhere?! Everyone says he's brilliant... but vhere's the proof?" She drums her fingers restlessly on the crate top, adding, "And... vhy lock him avay as they did? That's a terrible thing to do to anyvon, short of a mass murderer. There are those on both sides who did far vorse, from vhat I've heard... but they veren't frozen. Vhy not? The whole thing is just ee da tuo da bien."
Griz smiles a little. "Troop movements. I'm not surprised they play down the hard statistics of the war; it helps us to forget just how much blood was shed. But I looked at the troop movements and the after-action reports from Wintarsen's battles. He was very, very good, and he just got better as the years passed. The last year that he was running around free, the Alliance troops got a great deal of grief from his forces." Her expression goes sober. "And the casualty figures, too. Lists of names, places of birth, units. He... did a hell of a lot of damage to the Alliance, and not without cost. I would say that the people who were orphaned or widowed wouldn't consider it ee da tuo da bien. He's not been erased, any more than Serenity Valley could be erased."
"As for 'Third Way'... that's a harder question. It beats the hell out of me, Captain. I looked for it myself a few years ago, even sent a 'wave to the Logisium. The librarian rather huffily replied that I should try a Border moon library since they refused to carry 'such an obviously poor academic work' in their library. I tried some other Central and Border libraries until I finally gave up. Frankly, there are so many commentaries and quotes from it out there you could probably re-create the book from those alone."
Solbiort shakes her head slowly, "Neh... re-creations are alvays influenced, even if unvittingly, by those attempting to rebuild a memory." She frowns, adding a bit worriedly, "It... bothers me..." She sighs, tossing a playing piece restlessly from hand to hand, "Vell... enough of that. Is there anything else you know about him or Danviere? Vhat are you planning to do vith them vonce they are avake?"
"Well... that's a good point. I wouldn't try to guess the meaning behind 'The Third Way' just from Ng's commentaries, though he seems to be generally unbiased from what I've seen. Compared to some others, at least. The book is otherwise alternatively excoriated or praised."
Griz shakes her head. "My role in this op was pretty benign. I don't know why they put Wintarsen, Xing, and Danviere into cryo. I do know that Command, or what's left of it, found out about them, staged a rescue and all this to give Wintarsen a chance. They think the Alliance was worried Wintarsen would be this charismatic demagogue, a firebrand of a rabble-rouser, and kept him locked away. Frankly, most of Command is worried Wintarsen will just go back to fracturing the Independent movement -- but before all else he was an Independent. For all that he'd done in the war, they felt that they owed him a chance to live at the amnesty that every other Indie was given. That's why I'm wearing the Brown again, and why it's going back in the closet when all this is done. When he wakes up... he makes his own path. We'll help get him where he wants to go, but after that... I don't rightly know what he'll be doing. I'm hoping it's not restarting the war, or splitting what remains of the Independent movement. I just know that I'll be back on Prativindhya, and so will a lot of others here in this base."
Solbiort stares confusedly at Griz. "You've risked your life, and the lives of those vith you, to come back out here and vake this guy up... and you just 'hope' he von't start the var up again?!" She bluntly adds, "Vhat you gonna do if he vants to fight more?"
Griz sighs. "Captain, the Independence movement is about independence, about finding your own path. I fought to keep a fiscal noble from getting himself appointed magistrate by some Central politico sitting on Londinium. I didn't fight in the War to put someone else in charge to exert control over folks. Without knowing what he's going to be doing when he wakes up, what would you have me do? Put a bullet in his head now? That's not what independence is about -- in fact that's just the opposite. Independence applies to people just as much as it does to worlds." She sets the pieces down on the board. "When the war ended the Browncoats lost, and lost pretty completely. If he wants to fight more he's not going to find a lot of sympathy all that soon."
Solbiort says, "I helped because I happen to agree no von deserves to be treated so. But I'm starting to vonder more and more just vhat's going on here. Somevon has put a gwai of a lot of money on the line to make this happen -- vhy? Who?" She tilts her head at Griz, "Don't you vonder at all vhat their plans are?"
Griz considers a moment. "After the war we were pretty much reduced to operating in cells. We have military unit designations, some such training, but nothing formal. What funds we get are scarce and scattered. But from what I know of this operation, it wasn't an untoward amount for the goal." She frowns. "Not that this makes me any less concerned now..."
Solbiort says, "Vhat about the cells? Are they all still operative? And if they don't have good centralized command... who's to tell them Vintarsen, or even a convincing fake, isn't running the show again?"
Griz shakes her head. "I don't have answers for you, Captain. We had a mess made of ourselves after the war, and... it's the nature of cellular organizations to work like this. What do you suspect?"
Solbiort frowns worriedly. "I don't know who to suspect. Vhat I know is this: it is being unpleasantly thoroughly cleaned up. Is Vintarson von of the intended victims? Or is this disturbingly organized individual or organization planning on using Vintarson as a puppet?"
Griz folds her hands in front of her chin, brow furrowed. "I had thought that it was the Alliance tracking down the operation bit by bit. But what if it's a Browncoat 'clean-up,' at that? What if they want Wintarsen offed, or controlled as you suggest?"
Solbiort says, "Precisely. Vhat if no one ever told him a decade had passed? Who's going to bring him up to date? They say the vinners write history. For Vintarson that may not be the case."
Griz makes a quiet sound. "He'll learn quickly enough about how much time has passed -- that's not something they can hide too well. There are changes in astrography that any sensible general will take note of. Higgins' Moon alone... but there's other information they can feed him, and make use of his talents at least before he figured it out. If he does."
Solbiort nods silently, studying the markers on the board. Finally she reaches out and flicks one over. It skids slightly, hitting another... which rocks, then tips and hits another -- and another, and... in the end several markers fall and several more are shoved aside by her single gesture, leaving the board's arrangement messily askew. Griz watches the pieces for a moment, before looking up at Solbiort without moving. "Domino effect," she says simply. "He doesn't have to run the war in order to start it. Is that what you're saying?"
Solbiort nods again, worriedly running her fingers through the tasseled end of her braid, "Ya. Things are peaceful right now. Not happy, neh, but vorking on it. Vhat does this hidden mastermind intend?"
"The easy answer is 'another I-War.' But it can't be that easy."
Solbiort says, "That is not the only qvestion, too. Vhy now? Und vhy eliminate those vho know? Or am I just being excessively paranoid?"
"I don't think you're bieng too paranoid, considering we know, as well."
Solbiort nods quietly to Griz, her eyes almost emptily expressionless. "I admit, I vas somevhat surprised to find you all still here."
Griz meets the gaze, then looks away a little. "Put in that light," she says uncomfortably, "so am I. The risk of compromise was small, but then there were several weeks' delay in Wintarsen getting here... Command was on the verge of telling us to pull out when you showed up with the General."
Solbiort says, "I vould not assume you are not compromised yet, ma'am. One of our contacts vas hit almost a veek after ve'd left. My unasked-for advice vill be to hightail it out of here as soon as you viably can."
Griz lets out a breath and nods, "That was the plan as it was. As soon as Wintarsen was able to be moved, we'd bolt. Gorrammit. Someone in Command is going to have to come up with some good answers."
Solbiort murmurs softly, "How do you know it is not your command vhich is compromised?"
Griz growls like her nicknamesake. "I don't. I accept that there's some level of risk in any operation like this, but... argh."
Solbiort says, "Frankly, vere I to try infiltration, I'd make sure to have at least one of the orderlies close to the doctor be mine... and I'd try to hit as you left, vhen you're at maximum confusion and disarray. I've already told you about the ships apparently being systematically hunted down, after all. How did they know?"
Griz is quiet for a moment. "I'd like to speak to the officer I left in charge in the base, if I may, Captain. There's a lot I need to beef up here. Gorrammit, I knew I was out of practice, but this sloppiness is inexcusable."
Solbiort nods silently, rising. "Certainly, ma'am; this vay. Shuh muh."
Griz nods, "Thanks," standing and moving towards the ladder well. She pauses there for a moment. "Captain... it doesn't matter what side of the war you were on. I was a grunt in the 872nd Vacc; we defended and attacked asteroid bases. I say this only because... no matter what you might have done eight years ago... thank you for what you're doing today."
Solbiort glances over her shoulder at Griz and smiles faintly, "Major in a meteoric heavy assault squadron of the Tian Zhu (Sky-Death) 285th Assault Ving. And you're velcome." Then she silently paces out of the room, leading the way to the bridge. Griz's body language changes a little bit -- gunship wings were holy hell against Vacc units who had even less cover on an asteroid than Overlanders and Carapaces in a world. And a high rank in those units usually meant very good pilots. She controls herself, however, and says nothing, though she seems to walk a little more carefully.
As Nigel monitors various machines hooked up to his two charges in the Critical Care Ward, Elgyn is pacing. He wasn't pacing this whole time, but in the last few minutes something seems to have gotten him a little worked up. None of the others are present: the other doctor is getting some rest, and there are guards just outside the doors to the ward.
Nigel has a small portable datapad that he's noting things in about the states of different vitals. He's actually wearing scrubs for once, but only at the absolute insistence of the other doctor -- and Nigel didn't take acquiescing gracefully. After a few moments of muttering distractedly about pulse-ox levels, he arches an eyebrow at Elgyn, "Are you actually trying to wear a rut in the floor?"
Elgyn doesn't seem to hear Nigel at first. "I was a fool. I am a fool. I deserve to be called a boy," he growls to himself agitatedly.
Nigel clears his throat and says acerbically, "If you want, I'll leave you alone with your invisible confidante."
Elgyn looks up then, and looks chagrined. "I am... sorry, Doctor." He sighs and sits in a chair. There are a few seconds of quiet, and then the bronze-skinned warrior queries, "Have you ever allowed your mouth to get the better of you?"
Nigel leans against a counter and snorts at Elgyn, hands moving as if to tuck into his pockets. But since he's wearing pocketless scrubs, he has to pretend that he was just rubbing his hands dry, "No. Never. Not once has my mouth run away with me." The sarcasm is almost tangible.
Elgyn rolls his eyes. "I did not mean... of course, you have a way about your speaking, but that is entirely deliberate. Isn't it?"
Nigel crosses his arms across his chest and shrugs, "Mostly, but it wasn't always. I'm just blunt because I realized a long time ago that I wasn't good at subtle. I was six years old and got my ruttin' ass busted for telling my mother that the dress she was wearing made her look like a chain of sausages."
Elgyn's face twitches, and he looks like he's trying not to laugh. "I... see." He looks away then. "I let my mouth get away from me recently... it was just... such an innocent thing, the addition of one word... I had not realized it myself until it was pointed out to me... and it changed everything."
Nigel makes a slightly thoughtful face and very visibly decides not to say something, "What word did you use? Shee niou (cow-sucker)? And what in the name of all that's shiny did it change?"
Elgyn shakes his head. "The word itself was not important. I just..." He trails off, looking stricken. "This was -- is -- something that I've been struggling with. For a while I let myself forget, but recent events suddenly brought it upon me with a vengeance. But I... I wanted to remain silent, to figure this out one way or another. And then I let down my guard, and now all of a sudden I end up hurting someone I cared about because I am..." Words fail him again, and he scowls. "Oh the irony. I once accused her of having grown up with outmoded beliefs... what is that saying, Nigel? Something about pots and kettles?"
Nigel smirks quietly, "So... you confessed your undying love to the captain, hm?" He hops up onto the counter, swinging his legs almost like a little kid, "I think it's the pot calling the kettle black, m'boy."
Elgyn stares at Nigel as if he just walked on water. "How did you...?" His expression suddenly turns wry and bitter. "That obvious, was I?"
Nigel rolls his eyes, "Elgyn, you are about as hard to read as a large print first grade primer. You follow her like a puppy, and the moony eyes? Do you know how hard I bit my lip? There was actual blood! But the last ruttin' thing I wanted was to get thrown off the gorram ship. This is the first time I've had an entire boat to tinker on. I wasn't about to throw it out."
Elgyn shakes his head. "If I was so obvious, I wonder why Solbiort never saw it. I never..." He sighs. "I had convinced myself that it was not love, it was duty... it was appreciation for her talent, her skill, her strength. I was wrong to try and convince myself otherwise... but what else could I do? I cannot..." He slams his fist against a nearby table, making what's on it rattle. "If only things had been different... if I had never given my oath, perhaps I would not be like such a child."
Nigel watches Elgyn's venting with a mildly amused look on his face, "What makes you think she didn't notice it?"
Elgyn blinks. "I don't... well, if she did, then why did she make so much of what I'd let slip?" He groans and face palms. "Women are so confusing."
Nigel watches Elgyn with a look that says quite plainly, 'You expected them to be easy to understand?' before hopping off the counter, "She may well have been trying to spare your feelings. Not that I understand why people do that ruttin' go se. Means more lies you have untangle later. You tell things plain out and you know where you stand and you don't go around turning into a ruttin' adolescent."
Elgyn sighs, running his hands through his hair. "I would say things plain out if I knew... no, that's not true. I do... I do love her. I have loved her for a long time. But saying that or anything else would not have helped matters. It didn't even matter that it would have seemed she had feelings for me as well... I am not free to court her."
Nigel tips his head, "You married?" he asks.
Elgyn blinks. "No, of course not."
Nigel shrugs, "Is she?"
Elgyn looks like he's trying not to laugh. "No."
Nigel nods slowly and then says, "You're not hitched. She's a single gal. You both got healthy libidos. She doesn't seem to find you repulsive and you think she could saddle a comet. So... what part of this means you can't pursue whatever you think this muck is?"
Elgyn gets a far away look for a moment. "I bet she could saddle a comet..." Then he sighs. "Let me see if I can explain... and you can tell me if I'm being feh feh pi goh."
Nigel looks heavenward as if praying for patience, "She's a ruttin' woman. A big, strong, take-no-dung kind of woman, but she's a woman. She's not a goddess. And she sure as hell can't saddle a ruttin' comet. And I get the feeling she's not averse to rolling around the bunkroom."
Elgyn gives this look to Nigel as if to say 'oh ye of little faith.' "Let us suppose for a second you had never left wherever it was you were before... the Alliance hospital, that is. Let us say that there was a woman that had hired you at the hospital who just happened to be the... well, whoever the head of a hospital is. She did more than that... she mentored you, she gave you opportunities you would never have had otherwise. But for all that, she is still your boss. Wouldn't you agree that pursuing a relationship in that instance would be sacrilegious?"
Nigel thinks about it for a long moment, "No. One of us could always get another job or we could go off and start a practice together... if any woman could put up with me. Which in my experience is even less likely than the comet-saddling lark."
Elgyn purses his lips. "Perhaps my explanation was not strong enough." He muses for a second, and then brightens. "Suppose the situation, then, was between Boss Higgins and one of the female mudders."
Nigel arches a brow at Elgyn, eyes narrowing suspiciously for a moment, "Higgins isn't likely to mentor anyone." He reaches up and rubs absently at his scar, his whole demeanor having gone quite stiff. "She's guided you. Hell, she's probably made you her ideal partner."
Elgyn nods. "In certain ways, I suppose that's so. But... this is more than her being my mentor. She is my sonia, my leader. I swore an oath to her eight years ago, that I would serve her till I had either repaid my debt of honor to her, or till my last breath. She is my..." He balks at using the word he had used before... he's not sure he really believes that. "Shouldn't a relationship be between equals, and not between one who is indebted to another?"
Nigel's lips twist, "Have you asked her if you've repaid your debt?"
Elgyn opens his mouth, and suddenly gets this expression like he'd never considered that before. "No, but... I am not sure anything I have done in that time would qualify. What I owe is more complicated than a life debt, which could be washed away simply by saving her life. She... she made life worth living again, for me. She gave me a reason to live."
Nigel uh-huhs and starts counting on his fingers, "You've been at her back through everything for however long. You helped her get her very own vessel. You've given her your whole gorram life and followed her 'round like a bitty little puppy. I think you might well have repaid some of that ruttin' debt." He peers at Elgyn for a second, eyebrow arched, "Would it help if I passed her a note between classes for you?"
Elgyn chews on that... while he realizes one such as Nigel could never understand the paramount nature of a debt of honor, he has to admit there is a germ of truth in his words. "I get the feeling Solbiort might agree. When I stopped her that night, she got this look like I had slapped her. There is something more here... more than my debt." At Nigel's last comment, Elgyn half-scowls at him. "Your mouth is likely to get yourself in trouble again, if you keep that up..." he notes with some amusement.
Nigel smiles angelically, "You wouldn't hold it against me. It'd bruise your honor if you did. You asked me for advice." He adds, "Are you even listening to yourself? You slipped up and, if I'm hearing this right, things started to get all shiny and steamy and then you slammed on the brakes. Boy, you shut her down. Her ego's going to be hurt. But I somehow don't see her bein' the sort to take advantage of someone she saw as less than her."
Elgyn makes a swatting motion at Nigel. "It would be worth it to smack you around," he says, but the smile on his face indicates he's not serious.
Nigel leans over and taps Elgyn right in the center of the forehead "Use your gorram brains."
Elgyn would have avoided Nigel's assaulting finger, but Nigel's words cut deep, and so his response was a shade too slow. "What... what should I do?" he queries despondently.
Nigel looks amazed, "I keep thinkin' you can't be more thick, and you keep surprising me." He crouches down and says very slowly and with an edge of patronizing gentleness, "You go..." he makes a walking motion with his fingers, "To her..." He points toward the door and makes an exaggerated hourglass shape with his hands, "and talk..." He makes a talking motion with his hands.
Elgyn groans. "That's not what I'm asking. I meant... how do I make up for that? You've made it clear I was a righteous ass, but..."
Nigel says, "Same tactic, bright boy. You go talk to her. Tell her you were an ass. I'm told saying that kind of muck sometimes garners forgiveness."
Elgyn mulls that over. "You're likely right... but this other thing..." He sighs again. "No, you are wholly right. It is keeping this all inside that got me in trouble to begin with. Any course I take must begin with talking."
Nigel puts on an exaggeratedly surprised face, "It learns!"
Elgyn's expression is surprisingly calm, which is why he is able to slap Nigel upside the head. "You are a smartass, Doctor," he smirks. Then he shakes his head, "I spent too much time as a boy learning the arts of war, and never the arts of love."
Nigel wobbles where he's crouched and scowls at Elgyn, "Don't do that again." It sounds more like a grumpy kid than an angry adult when he says it. "Well, they both involve a lot of posturing and sweating. One ought to serve you pretty well in the other. Only you have to not be quick-triggered."
Fortunately for Nigel, Elgyn doesn't appear to get the implication of his last comment. "That would seem to make good sense, yes," he ponders.
Nigel pushes back to his feet, brushing at the knees of his scrubs, "We done here? My shift as agony aunt over?"
Elgyn smiles. "You make light of it, Nigel, but I do want to thank you for bearing my problems," he rumbles, clapping his hand on the doctor's shoulder.
Nigel winces at the shoulder clapping and shrugs it off, "Elgyn, anyone ever tell you that you take life way too serious?"
Elgyn blinks at Nigel. "Are you saying it is not?"
Nigel says, "Yeah, I'm sayin' it's not always serious."
Elgyn considers that. "Be sure to let me know when those times are, then," he seems to say in all seriousness.
Nigel peers at Elgyn and smirks, "Maybe there's hope for you yet."
Raj spends part of his waking time continuing the work of getting Chimera's electronics into something resembling 'updated.' He also spends more than a bit of time outside the ship, keeping an eye on the surrounding terrain. It's generally barren steppelands clear to the horizon, with several mesas and similar features here and there, the closest being six kilometers away. The ship, of course, is not in the crater itself, rather it is in a hollow about half a klick from the crater and near an auxiliary exit from the facility. Covered by a cunning camo tarp, with thermal cable dropped into a heat dump to bleed away the thermal signature to background, to Raj's eye it's not easy to spot the ship from air or land.
A day or so has passed since Nigel and Elgyn talked, and since Griz and Solbiort had their conversation. Griz is a little thoughtfully distant, and has been making frequent inquiries to her superiors as to the nature of the operation, which she tells Solbiort has been causing a little concern higher up as well. For their part, Griz's people are alternatively starting to pack up the remaining gear in the base for a quick evac once the patients are rated good to leave, and getting increasingly tense as the days go by. Still, they're generally professional about it, or at least dedicated amateur.
Elgyn is disappointed that the Browncoats seem immune to his arguments in regards to barricading the main entrance... but under the circumstances, decides to just work around it. He instead concentrates on memorizing the layout of the complex, and maps out different ways to get to the three entrances... and tries to get a hold of a blueprint to find potential human-accessible exits... such as ventilation ducts.
He's got to do something to keep busy, because Nigel will likely try to stab him with a scalpel if he keeps pacing around. Elgyn also rigs a signal flare just in case they can't escape via the exit nearest the ship, and informs Solbiort what to look for in that eventuality. Nigel actually doesn't seem too awfully bothered by working so hard. It's certainly one of the more interesting cases he's ever worked on. And the fact that the patients are more likely to survive seems to help his temper. He only swears at Shian three or four times a day.
Raj continues his work around the ship and patrolling the perimeter with a grim determination. When asked if there's some problem, all he'll say is, "I just don't want to be under it when the other shoe drops." Solbiort quietly keeps an eye on their guests when it's her watch. Otherwise she's usually to be found on the Bridge. She even sleeps there on occasion, out of sheer tension. Griz has remained quiet throughout her internment, though she does not show the tension. She loaned Solbiort her copy of the 'Commentaries' a few days before, though that didn't shed much more light on the mystery of that book.
Today seems much like any other, looking at things from the bridge of the pirate ship. The passive grid is clear, and though the camo tarp is hampering visual or thermal scans through it, a diligent watch is still being kept. Part of that watch is Raj, who today is patrolling around the other side of a small rock formation near the ship, looking for trouble.
Nigel has reached an important juncture in the operations. Sergeant-Major February Danviere is out of Intensive condition, though still comatose. For now, Arvid Wintarsen is also out of Intensive condition and is about to be brought out of the cryostasis-induced coma. So far the program has gone swimmingly, and underneath the gradiated heat-lamps of the recovery room Wintarsen looks to be healthier than he has any right to be. He is still weak, sickly-looking, gaunt, and drawn; he does not look anything like the charismatic Indep general that everyone from Molly to Griz has made him out to be. Elgyn is to the side, watching.
Elgyn is to the side, watching. Wintarsen groans, twitching a little as he swims back up to something resembling consciousness. "Who... where... nrr...." Elgyn perks up at the sound of Wintarsen's voice, though he keeps back. There is curiosity, yes, but he's still a professional.
Nigel checks Wintarsen's vitals yet again and smirks quietly, "Wintarsen. A little gorram rock in the middle of nowhere." He almost seems pleased.
On the Chimera's bridge, Solbiort's console chirps, a message from the facility: "Captain, is Griz there? A ship is coming in for a landing at the port but it's straying. She asked us to let both her and you know if something out of the ordinary happened."
"Ya, moment." Solbiort intercoms Griz to the bridge, warns Raj of what's up, and starts searching for the straying ship. Somewhere nearby, just as he acknowledges the signal, Raj hears the soft skittering of gravel on rock. Solbiort also notifies Elgyn and Nigel via their landline, murmuring to Elgyn, "More vhen ve haf it, di-di."
Elgyn moves to one side of the recovery room at the notification. "Should I tell our associates, Captain?" he asks quietly.
Solbiort says from the bridge, "Neh. They told us."
In the medical facility, Wintarsen's voice is weak. "Win... tar... sen? Am I? No... wait... yes, I don't... want...."
Griz comes up to the bridge posthaste. "Thanks, Captain." She glances at the screen as Solbiort pulls up the grid. "There it is...." She blinks, just as Sol notices it as well. "Renci de fozu, qing baoyou wo-men, that's a Trans-K." Solbiort calls Molly to the bridge for "emergency stations," their code for her to settle into gunnery. Better safe than sorry. Then she nods silently to Griz, still studying the environment carefully.
In the Recovery Room, Nigel looks irritated at the announcement, "Just makes frellin' sense, doesn't it? I actually half-enjoy doing doctor stuff for once, and we're about to get bombed..." With the irritation, there also seems to be a whole lot more fidgeting than normal and a whole lot less color in his face.
Wintarsen groans again, barely starting to open his eyes. They are moving rapidly, as if still in REM sleep. "Bomb... bombing? Bombs... too many....
Elgyn unholsters his pistol and checks the corridor to make sure it's clear. "One bomb is too many bombs..." he comments to no one in particular.
Outside the ship, a moment after Solbiort's update comes through on the comm., Raj hears the slight skittering of gravel, and his eyes narrow. Taking a breath and hanging the comm on his belt, he continues his patrol, turning away from the sound. He stops a moment to adjust his gear, and says loud enough for anyone to hear, "I'll be damned if I don't think I've found that other shoe," and glances back toward where the sound came from.
Solbiort listens -- then starts upright, "Shoe?!" She slaps the landline open again, "Elgyn, exit -- ma shong!" To Griz she snaps, "Get your boy down to Cargo -- you can leave as soon as mine are back." Griz opens her mouth to say something, then closes it, grimly, and nods, going down to cargo.
In the Recovery room, Nigel presses his hand to Wintarsen's forehead, "Nah, no bombs, grandpa, just a hospital... you lay back there..." He glances over at the sound from the comm, "What's she on about?"
Elgyn strides over and grabs Nigel by the arm. "Time to go, Doc." he says firmly.
Nigel scowls at Elgyn, looks around, "Gorramit... I just spent days waking the old sod up..." He's torn for a moment between his oath and his fear if the people coming in are Alliance.
Outside, Raj sees nothing for a moment, just the heat shimmer on the rocks... then from behind the outcropping there silently leaps a figure clad in a dusty-tan-colored commando garment. The garment's style does not appear to be either Browncoat or Alliance, from what Raj remembers of Wartime military equipment. Apparently the commando is going for a silent kill, since a blade is already whispering through the air, going for a thrust to his kidney.
The draw, the shot... probably the best Raj has made since the War ended. The shot punches into the commando's faceplate. The active camo of the garment flickers and ripples, going from desert tan to midnight black to arctic white to... heat-shimmer invisible?... before settling into a neutral dark gray, the commando down and out for the count, twitching.
In the Recovery room, Wintarsen makes a tiny sound. "Is... is it over...?"
Elgyn looks sympathetic. "Doctor, you've done all that was expected of you and more. But Wintarsen is their responsibility now -- and you're mine. We're going. And if you want to remain on the ship -- and possibly even remain alive -- you'll obey the Captain's order and mine, to boot."
Nigel presses his lips together and nods tersely, seeing the sense in what Elgyn says. Shian is quite competent, and if things can be taken care of, he might be able to come back and help. He grabs his medkit from the counter, tossing in what of his personal tools he had taken out, and lets himself be led out.
Solbiort swears at the sound of the gun's report, desperately trying to bring a ship's weapon to bear in time to help Raj if he needs it. She shouts into the com, "Elgyn, get Nigel out! Hostiles on the surface -- move, boy!" Elgyn moves as quickly as he can quietly, only sending a single chirp back along his comm unit to indicate he received the transmission. He leads Nigel towards the exit nearest to the ship, eyes scanning for movement.
Meanwhile, the stray freighter is just coming into view over the horizon. Even at this distance it's clearly a Trans-K, looking eerily like the Chimera in silhouette. It appears to be coming in for a landing at the crater, again just like Chimera did. Meanwhile the Browncoats are on the verge of panic once they learn that a Trans-K is en router. There was supposed to have only been one Trans-K, and that was the Chimera.
Solbiort murmurs, "Molly, cover the facility exit so the boys can get safely back, and so Griz and her boy can leave then." Molly acknowledges, all but leaping into the turret console to bring the railgun turret to bear to cover Elgyn's and Nigel's exit. Solbiort calls over the ship's intercom, "Griz, your people are... getting upset. Go -- they need you. Just don't stop my people leaving, ya?" She watches for Griz to leave. She's done the best she can to cover Raj... and provided a distraction too, with the departure of the two Browncoats.
A few moments after the gunshot, the inbound Trans-K suddenly alters course; instead of coming in for a relatively placid landing, it arcs upward to gain some altitude and begins to orbit the area in a wide arc. Raj snaps his comm to his jacket and says, "One down. Brown camo. Active visual blending. I'm twenty yards from the ship." In a half crouch, he begins making his way around the outcropping back towards the Chimera.
In the medical facility, Nigel is cursing a blue streak the whole way from the room he was working in, bitching about leaving behind his puzzles and secretly glad he didn't bring anything more valuable than that. The trip to the auxiliary exit is fortunately without event. The hatch opens above them and Nigel and Elgyn emerge from the facility, behind the rocks and less than ten yards from the cargo doors. Griz and Alouette are already scrambling from Chimera's hold. Elgyn slings on goggles to protect from the glare of the sun, giving a quick glance around. "I'll gorram buy you new puzzles after we get out of here, Nigel!" he growls, giving a quick glance around as he shoves Nigel towards the open hatch, quickly checking for opponents before following...
Solbiort keeps half an eye on the Trans-K, but is most worried about gathering her crew safely. "Raj, lock cargo down vonce the boys are back, notify me, and hold on. Elgyn, to emergency stations immediately!"
Raj replies, "Acknowledged."
The landline chirps. "Captain, this is Shian. I know this is untoward of me and Griz'll have my head for this, but the sergeant in charge here, he has a plan... everything's compromised here. If you can take the General and Danviere, we'll... we'll provide a distraction and make sure you can get away."
Solbiort stares incredulously at the com. "Vhat?! Are you kwong-juh duh?! Ve are leaving, boy. My first responsibility is to my crew!"
"I didn't come all this way to have some hundan put a hole in my patient's head. You can decline if you want. Just understand, I had to ask."
Solbiort snarls, "You get them to ship same time as my crew, they can come. That's it!" She mentally crosses her fingers that Nigel didn't hear that -- he's just doctor enough to want to go back for his patients, she's afraid.
"That's all I can ask for, Captain. Thank you." Pause. "Buddha be with you." Five seconds later, from about half a mile away, no less than five surface-to-air missiles rise up out of the desert sand, zeroing in on the Trans-K. Solbiort raises an eyebrow at that, then takes a moment to focus on her crew. Where are they all?!
As Elgyn and Nigel pass Griz and Alouette, Griz pauses, looking in the direction of the missile launch. "GORRAMIT!" she shouts. "What in Sam Hell are they DOING?!" Elgyn slows, stunned as he sees the missile... out of the hatchway that Elgyn and Nigel emerged from, three Browncoats come out rapidly, two carrying Danviere and one carrying Wintarsen.
Solbiort snaps, "Elgyn, to the ship! Sightseeing later!"
Elgyn winces and breaks back in to a run, though he does look over his shoulder in confusion, as he hears people behind him. "What the hell?..."
Solbiort shifts position, leaving the gunnery station for Elgyn, and slides into the pilot's seat. The ship quivers and rocks slightly as the engines' roar rises. This is no ordinary Trans-K, of that Solbiort is certain. Ordinary Trans-Ks don't carry thermal flares to spoof IR-guided SAMs. Four of the missiles swerve dramatically: three slamming into the flares and exploding, one corkscrewing into the desert floor. The fifth explodes just off the port engine of the Trans-K, which normally should put a transport out of the air right there. The engine only flickers and splutters a bit... as it turns, and spits an actinic particle beam onto the missile position, letting it linger for a second. Then again, and again, as if trying to scour the sand of the missileers' entire existence. This Trans-K is SO not stock.
Solbiort draws in her breath sharply, but simply murmurs softly, "Raaaj? Talk to me... ve loaded?"
Elgyn finally gets to the open hatch of the Chimera, making sure Nigel's safely in and holding it open for Raj, who's a few steps behind... blinking at Raj's inadvertent 'companions.' "Captain, Nigel and I are aboard... but we've got people following with Nigel's patients... orders?"
Solbiort snaps, "Elgyn, to gunnery!!" Elgyn moves then, leaving it up to Raj whether or not to leave the others behind or let them in. Solbiort barks, "Raj, report!!" Elgyn is on the bridge seconds later, belting himself in and manning the railgun. He immediately tries to track the position of the other ship.
Raj calls out, "I'm almost to the hatch. I'll sing out when we're all on board!"
Solbiort says, "Do so. Ve are so out of here then!"
The three browncoats scramble aboard with their cargo, and Raj boards an instant after them. Raj pulls the hatch shut, calling out, "ALL ONBOARD! WE'RE SECURE!"
Solbiort calls, "Hold on!" The camo sheet is long gone as the engines scream -- Chimera bolts off in a low, jinking pattern, trying to put more terrain between the hostile ship and themselves before exploding into space. Solbiort murmurs over the com, "Medical facility, good luck and best vishes from us here. Over and out." She adds calmly to her gunnery crew, "Don't shoot unless they shoot us first -- vill draw their attention othervise." She seems much more relaxed now everyone's aboard.
Elgyn grits his teeth as G-forces are applied quickly. "Understood, Captain." he comments. "Part of me hopes they do fire, though," he adds unnecessarily. Solbiort grins, enjoying herself now -- flying she's good at.
In Cargo, Nigel is snarling invective under his breath, though he manages not to actually sling his medkit around, "You three, get them into the medbay... it's probably too much to hope any of you twits has any medical experience..." He stalks into the medbay himself and starts readying what life-support and monitoring equipment he has. The browncoats take the patients into the infirmary. Danviere is still out, and Wintarsen is half-delirious, not quite clear on what's going on around him.
Nigel straps Wintarsen to his bed in the medbay, muttering, "Hush up, grandpa, I'm aggravated enough with the way this ship is wobbling around that I don't need no babbling about Auntie Em and gorram Toto..." He instructs the browncoats in getting Danviere safe into the other bed and waves two of them off, "Go see if they need you up there... "
The parti-fire from the faux Trans-K continues for a few seconds more, glassing the (former) missile position before someone on it notices the Chimera is not only there, but is escaping. Going from a hover to a full burn is not easy, but though they're left far behind the Trans-K still attempts to pursue. Solbiort is a great gunship pilot... but whoever is at the controls of the Trans-K is almost (if not quite) as good. None of the particle beam fire from the enemy ship lands, though.
Solbiort's eyes widen as she realizes the other ship is actually keeping a somewhat steady distance, and... shooting at them?! There's a low stream of half amused, half snarling invective coming from her lips -- fortunately in Midgaardian -- and she watches intently to see if the other ship veers off when they're shot at. Elgyn's shots track the pursuing Trans-K; one of the rounds clips the starboard prow of the Trans-K, but it keeps pursuing. And meanwhile one beam of party fire sears across the starboard wing. He growls. "Captain, they might be too heavily armored for the railgun... give me a second and I'll try again..."
Solbiort laughs aloud, then calls out, "All hands, hold on! Gunnery, set to fire!" A moment later the ship whirls sickeningly -- and then Solbiort charges a jinking pattern down on the pursuing ship! Elgyn fortunately has experience with Solbiort's crazy flying stunts, though it does take a second to steady himself enough to track with the railgun again...
Solbiort grins wickedly, realizing the two ships will collide in about 10 seconds! She bears down ruthlessly on the hostile Trans-K, crowing softly, "So, show your colors, villain! Let's see how vell you fly...!" Perhaps to Solbiort's surprise, instead of veering, the parti-fire cuts off. There is a visible FOOM from behind the Trans-K as it apparently kicks its engines into what passes for high gear. Solbiort grins, readying to pursue so her gunners have the best line of fire. Elgyn blinks and grits his teeth, hoping the Captain knows what she's doing as he targets the vessel once more...
Molly's laser misses cleanly. Elgyn's repeated use of the rail gun, however, yields results, punching a hole in one of the control surfaces and making it go off course just enough for the Chimera to plow through the space that the Trans-K occupied a moment before. Elgyn lets out an explosive breath he didn't know he was holding, "Ancestors preserve us." Solbiort crows triumphantly, whirling the ship up in a gleeful spiral heading towards space. If the other ship doesn't follow, she's content to let them limp home unmolested. The Trans-K spirals away out of sight and out of control, just barely regaining. By then the Chimera is already out of atmo and reaching up into the black.
Solbiort sings softly to herself, enjoying the flight. As they start reaching the black she comms, "Hokay, think ve're clear. Can all stand down now."
Molly makes a tiny sound. "Permission to go change underdrawers," she says, a little weakly and (mostly) jokingly.
Elgyn glances over at Molly sympathetically. "She takes some getting used to..." he says wryly.
Solbiort chuckles, leaning back in her chair to gently slap Molly's shoulder, "You did good, mei-mei. Go. No vorries." Molly heads off of the bridge a bit quickly, and a touch shakily. Solbiort grins cheerfully at Elgyn, "Hah! You exaggerate!"
Nigel presses the intercom button in the medbay, "Don't supposed we're headed back there to let the new passengers back off, are we, cap?"
Elgyn cocks an eyebrow. "If anything, Captain, it's the other way around. Remember, I've had 8 years with y..." He stops and listens to Nigel's report.
On the bridge, Solbiort blinks, then replies, "Vhat?! Vhat new passe- oh, the indecicles? Hm... not sure vhat to do vith them, actually. How are they, di-di Nigel?"
Nigel clears his throat and says, "Wintarsen and Danviere are probably going to survive. I'm talking about the three walking, talking, upright gorram Browncoats t hat came on board with them." The three browncoats in question look appropriately sheepish.
On the bridge, Solbiort blinks again, then looks incredulously at Elgyn, "We have passengers!?"
Elgyn shrugs at Solbiort. "I told you there were people, you told me to get upstairs," he reminds her.
Solbiort gives Elgyn an incredulous look again at the snark, then shrugs and turns away. She snaps on the com, "You, Browncoat passengers -- to the bridge ma shong!" She pauses, realizing they're all out of immediate danger, and these folks are not trusted -- they don't belong on the bridge. She amends, "Neh, go to the port lounge. We'll meet you there." She rises, heading for the hatchway, "Elgyn, you have the bridge," and heads out.
In medbay, Nigel thumbs the intercom one more time, "I want to stay here. One of the former indecicles is a little bit crazy right now. I don't want him chewing through his own leg or something."
Solbiort says, "Goot enough, di-di Nigel. Comm if you need help."
A minute or two later, the three rather ragged-looking browncoats are waiting in the port lounge. Solbiort frowns as she studies the three, hands on hips, "Vhat you doing here? Vhy you didn't leave after delivering the general?"
One, with the rank marks of a sergeant, ducks his head in a bow. "We didn't get a chance to, Captain. The door was closed behind us before we could leave. It was not our intent to become passengers aboard your ship; our orders were to get Wintarsen and Danviere aboard your ship and return to help evacuate the base."
Solbiort sighs, drumming her fingers, then nods tersely, "All right, ve try to get you back." She goes to the comm, "Raj? You available to take command of these three until ve get them back?"
From his spot near the door, with one eyebrow raised, Raj says, "Welcome to the Kowloon Pan. I'll be your cruise director. You can call me Raj. If you have anything to declare, or any weapons to check, please, do let me know."
The sergeant nods his head. "Thank you, captain." He looks a bit wanly and confusedly at Raj.
Solbiort grins, relieved, and heads to the bridge again, slapping Raj lightly on the shoulder as she passes him, "Good job! Sheh-sheh, Raj." She slides back into the pilot's seat a moment later. She starts the ship in a long, easy arch back towards the planet, scanning the planet's communications 'wave for any clue as to what's going on back there.
The planetary traffic control is in confusion. It has only been about 30 minutes since the battle, and only now are inquiries coming in from local Alliance forces and Adarra traffic control as to what the hell happened. A fan of Hummingbirds from local law compliance is attempting to reach Fleur-de-Croix, but will reach it within three hours, just two hours after a DSPV will arrive to investigate. At extreme range on the grid, Solbiort spots the hostile Trans-K... on the ground and hot, indicating the engines are still 'running.' Smoke is coming out of the entrances to the underground facility, as well as from several holes in the ground which weren't there before.
Elgyn watches with Solbiort quietly, bearing witness to the dead. Solbiort sits silently at the boards, thinking. Nigel stays in the medbay, remaining unusually quiet. If anyone happens by, it looks like all the color has drained from his face. Solbiort finally sighs and flips on the intercom. "This is the captain. The hostile ship is down but hot, landed by the facility, vhich is smoking from all entrances, and several new holes as vell." She takes a long breath, then adds quietly, "I've not seen any escapees. Do ve vant to risk landing, or keep our cargo safe? I vould like to hear from everyvon, please."
Elgyn folds his hands behind his back. "We need to run, Captain. We have to assume that was not the only ship, and pursuit is imminent. That's in the best interest of crew and cargo."
Solbiort nods slowly to Elgyn, her face grave, "I am thinking so also, di-di. But must have everyvon on board vith this first."
The Browncoats look shakenly to Raj. Finally the sergeant asks over the intercom, "Does that request for comments include us, Captain?"
Solbiort thinks, then replies to the Browncoats' query, "Ya, you are along for the ride even if you vere not precisely invited. Vhat are your thoughts, please?"
Nigel stands between the two former Browncoat generals, head down and brow wrinkled, fingers pattering against his legs. It takes him quite a long few minutes to press the intercom, "Captain, I... there's likely no one left alive in there. And we're going to be swarmed under in Alliance soon..."
Solbiort murmurs quietly, "Sheh-sheh, Nigel."
Raj says, "My suggestion is that we run hot to get to our next expected port-of-call and change our identification so we don't appear to have been here. I'm guessing the not-really-a-Trans-K that jumped us now knows our current ID. We can't use that anymore."
The Browncoats confer quietly for less than a few seconds. "It's as you say, Captain, we were not invited. But... to go back at this point is, I think, suicide. Whoever did this was professional, or at least thorough, and... they will not leave anyone alive there, I am thinking."
Solbiort nods, "Very goot. Sheh-sheh, all. Ve go now." The nose of the false Kowloon Pan lifts, heading back for the dark.
It's several hours later, and the Chimera is safely out and hidden in the vastness of space. Solbiort gives everyone time to shower, eat, recover, whatever... then (if Nigel gives permission) calls an all-hands meeting in medbay. Since the patients are stable, Nigel has no problem with folks confabbing there. Solbiort herself comes at least half an hour early to the meeting, deeply curious to see the legendary Wintarsen. She notices interestedly that the still-comatose February Danviere is a woman... and Wintarsen is not really awake yet.
Wintarsen lies there, twitching now and then, and looking so very much unlike the charismatic general who nearly split the Independent factions in twain and nearly drove the Alliance out of the Georgia Quadrant. On the other hand, Solbiort can see traces of that man so many people have been raving about. Though now he is gaunt and with a gray cast to his skin, drawn and obviously weak, she can see that he was once hale, healthy, and vigorous; something in the face gives a hint that he at least had some force of personality and presence -- when his expression hardens a little bit for just a moment, before he slackens into delirium again.
Solbiort stands silently by the general's body, studying him with fascinated curiosity as she tries to see what drew people to him. After a moment she steps up, reaches out, and gently takes his chin, leaning forward as she carefully turns his head to study his face more closely. His reaction is unexpected and sudden; though weak he still reacts, reaching up to quickly take hold of Solbiort's wrist, though his grip is hardly anything remotely strong. For a brief moment, though, his concentration tries to cut through the delirium, trying to focus on Solbiort through seeming waves of foggy thought.
Solbiort raises an eyebrow as her wrist is grabbed, and murmurs quietly, "General Vintarsen?" He tries -- he tries really hard -- to focus on Solbiort, fighting for coherence. Solbiort watches the mental struggle, then barks clearly and sharply, "Arvid, vake up!" But the moment passes, the delirium reasserts itself and his eyes unfocus again. His hand, at once surprisingly strong for his condition and surprisingly weak for the General, slides from Solbiort's wrist to fall weakly upon his chest, and he makes no further reaction to Solbiort's touch.
As he lapses back into delirium, words escape his lips, as if, upon his breath, they flee whatever captor holds his consciousness: "Which... wake... Shadow...." And that is all he says... for now, at least. Solbiort nods thoughtfully, gently letting the man's head go. Very odd. Did he perhaps suffer a head blow right before they froze him?
Wintarsen's hair is unkempt, falling not quite to his shoulders in the back and raggedly across his face. Solbiort gently brushes the blonde bangs back from his eyes and murmurs softly, "Poor half-dead pretty-boy... do you even know who you are any more? Rest for now... the Helvind riders come for you soon enough."
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