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Doc started his day with Sol, an Outcast who remained asleep desiring freedom.....freedom for cardamine.
He began his exam with a quich chat with an attending nurse.
"How are his vitals?" he asked of her.
"Steady," she replied to a nod of Doc's approval.
"When was his last dose administered?" he then asked.
"Last night about 1800 hours," she replied, again Doc nodding his approval.
He took a scanner and began deep tissue scans. The results were both good and discouraging. His body wasn't rejecting yet the evidence of any positive results was inconclusive. Perhaps the serum wasn't doing what he hoped it would or his scanner wasn't sensitive enough. Still, he remembered the words of Sol, "I am not dying a slave to cardamine."
With that thought, he decided to up the dosage gradually. He considered using the "Scrubby Serum" as he called it but felt it might be too aggressive. So, he used what he began with, a dosage of nanites. Removing a prepared syringe from a metal box, he inserted it into his I.V. drip line, injecting the greenish contents into the line, watching it flow into his arm. He then watched the equipment monitoring the man's life as he listened to it for himself through a stethoscope. No change thus far. He waited another twenty minutes. No change....but was that good? He didn't know. With that, he left the room to search for a deeper scanner or to further calibrate the one he had.
He also ventured to his wife's room. She was awake on this morning. Hand in hand, they chatted and even laughed a bit. Day by day, her strength increased. She also wanted to hold her new children for the first time.
"I'll speak with Doreen today," he answered her, "that decision is hers." He then asked her, "have you thought of names. I think I have one for our new daughter and want to see what you think."
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Doc made his way to Canaria Medical for yet another day of work. With Midori home recovering and his twins now stable, his personal issues seemed to be at ease. But before he even got to the front door, his pager went off.
"More freed slaves" was the message. Inside, he briefed with the head of staff and went about his work.
First, he checked in on Sol who still lay sleeping. Again, he measured another dose of the serum and injected it into his line. He still didn't know whether or not his efforts were working. Only time would tell. With Sol's vitals stable, he went to treat some of the freed slaves.
One patient would be one he would never forget. She simply went by the name Tia, a young girl of 15 years.
At first glimpse, she seemed nothing more than a case of malnutrition as her bones were beginning to show from under her skin. With her was her mother who was also freed and had been given a clean bill of health.
"Well, Ma'am," Doc said to the mother as he worked, "to this point, she's nothing that some good food in her system won't fix. I'll just run some scans and check her over and with your permission, a physical exam."
The mother nodded. It was also where Tia was quietly nervous. When she removed her garments, some of the reason became evident.
"Tia," he asked, "did any of your captors have, um, inapropriate contact with you?"
She nervously shook her head. Doc didn't need a scan to find swelling in her vaginal area.
Her mother noticed as well, beginning to cry as she spoke to her daughter.
"Tia, please, no one can hurt you anymore," she muttered.
Tia's only response were tears falling down her face. Doc only nodded, closing his eyes momentarily as a moment of rage passed through him as he knew that slavers used her for their pleasure, over and over again.
He set his scanner and checked her over. His fears came true as he found another life reading within her and a vinereal disease. He then sat down and began to explain to them.
"Tia, you are with a slaver's child," he explained, "and infected with a vinereal disease. I checked twice to be sure."
"Those bastards," the mother said angrily through her tears, "they have hurt my baby."
Doc did his best to comfort her.
"Miss, I can't fix what they did wrong but I can help you and your daughter," he explained, "I can cure the disease. The child is up to you two. If Tia keeps herself healthy, there should be no problems."
The mother turned to Doc, her face wet with tears to which Doc handed her tissues, "She's only 16 and didn't ask for this. She isn't ready to be a mother."
Tia sat up, taking a sheet to cover herself in, "Momma, give this child a chance. It's not the child's fault, Momma. Let me at least give it life and I can give it up. There is no shame in it."
"You two have much to discuss," Doc replied, "I'll give you some time." He then turned to Tia, "I want there names. If you don't know, I want a DNA sample from the child to find them." He stopped a moment as he laid her back down and ran a DNA scan of her belly. He then helped her up and re-covered her, "I'll now leave you two to some private discussion."
Doc left the room, heading for his office. He was furious!
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Reggie Waverly came in, bleeding from the hand and cursing the whole while. Doc was getting ready to leave when he arrived, Reggie's cursing getting his attention.
"Reggie, old Boy, what on Canaria is wrong with you?" he asked of him with a half smile before realizing what was wrong.
"Judas PRIEST!" exclaimed Doc as he took a clean rag and covered the hand as he escorted him to a treatment room.
As he treated his hand, he listened to Reggie talking about bad crops as he began cleaning his hand.
"I can treat this and even put on some synthe skin but I'll need more time another day to do something with that missing finger," he stated. Only nodding the acknowledgment, Reggie kept ranting about bad crops, going to Newcastle and something about Gallia.
The skin was gone from the palm of the hand. Knowing how painful it was, he gave him an injection of morphine to dull the pain and then administered an anti-biotic to clean it. He then went to a kit in the room and pulled out a square of synthe skin and began to measure it up. Pealing the adhesives from it, he applied it and began going over it with a laser like device. Slowly, the skin meshed with his own, completely covering the wound. While it looked almost natural, one could tell what it was and the only real side effect was that one couldn't feel through the skin. But for now, the damage was fixed.
"When you get back and find time, Reggie, I can fix that hand like new if you want," Doc told him.
Still, Reggie's mind was on something else. Satisfied with his treatment and in a rush to leave, he thanked him and left the facility as fast as he had entered, the difference being that he wasn't cursing in pain.
Doc could only shake his head and snicker. Finished for the day, Doc hung up his smock and headed home.
Tall orange grass covers the earth beneath the scorching sun. A man is standing taller above the grass, his gaze turned to the skies where thin clouds barely survive, covering a part of the merciless god. The god of the slaves, their suffering, their hope, their fate. The man lowers his gaze, looks around himself, many more stand around him, they are all separated by equal distances, their faces turned towards their god. They are calm and without any sign of feeling, yet the man knows that they are asking for salvation from the ruler of the skies, praying for it with all their being. Nothing moves, not the people, not the grass, not the clouds, no wind, except the giant man. He tries to walk, his arms are trying to open up a path to move within the orange field. It looks painful, every touch leaves its mark on his body, spilling red blood on the orange. His arms full of cuts, his clothes being torn apart, yet he still walks, faster than before, he has to get out of there.
He starts running, the tall grass opens up in front of him like he's a boat spreading out the ocean. Passing by the people oblivious to him, bumping and throwing them around if they are in his way. While he's running, the sun is coming with him, making it's way to the horizon where it will set for the day.
Suddenly with no warning, the giant stops in his tracks, hesitating to move on. After a second, he moves his bloodstained arm forward to get the orange razors out of his way... They reveal a young man, in pain, his suffering can be read from his face... He's holding half of his arm and the rest of his limb is lost within the tall grass. The giant man stands there motionless, scanning the boy. Though the sun does not wait for the giant, quickly moving towards its rest, the sky is getting darker by second. When the giant realizes that the sun is getting away, he throws the boy out of his way, like the rest before him, he has to reach the sun. The sun is increasing the distance, the man is exhausting all his power, cutting the razors in front of him like a tornado within the orange field, but he can not reach it... He watches his target while it sinks into the grass. With a flash the god sets, leaving the world around the man totally dark. A few more weak steps, the man collapses and is lost within the field.
A yellow flower is within a vase on a stand next to the sleeping man's bed, behind it is a closed window. It was all peaceful and silent a second ago, then the alarms set off, the equipment and the screens surrounding the man started to blink with red lights.
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The monitoring equipment went off like an alarm system. Sol was crashing. The attending nurse yelled out for John Holliday who was just leaving for the day.
"Doctor, Sol is crashing! It just started," reported the nurse. He wasted no time in getting to Sol.
Sol hadn't entered defib but his heart rate was rising. He took a scan and his worst fears came true, the serum was attacking his organs as much as it was the cardamine. That's when he took a deep breath and made a request he didn't want to make.
"Nurse, leave the room. I'll handle this," he said to her. She didn't argue although she was stunned. When she left, he locked the door and drew the curtains. He then took an injection needle and filled it with a dose of liquid cardamine and injected into Sol. It was a small dose, just enough to counter the serum, to give the serum a fresh source. He then sat beside him, watching as his vitals returned to a state of normalcy. Then, he turned off the drug that kept him asleep. He sat quietly, his head hanging and the empty syringe of cardamine in his hand.
When Sol would wake up, that is what he would see. A dejected doctor with the syringe. Doc couldn't even look at him when he muttered the words, "I'm sorry, Sol."
In the darkness a whirlpool got a hold of the giant, his body was being sucked into the void. Then, the darkness was replaced by flames, he could smell the burning of his own flesh.
Sol came to himself... still affected by the otherworldly dream he had just now. His whole body was in pain, and he was very tired despite that he was only sleeping all this time. Kept his eyes closed for minutes, trying to fight the burning sensation. Then he heard the doc's words... "I am sorry, Sol."
Sol opened his eyes to see the doc holding an empty syringe, obviously not in the best spirits. Sol understood, he wasn't granted his wish; to wake up free, or not to wake up at all. But he knew that this was always very unlikely, and he didn't blame the doc one bit. For now he didn't want to think about it either, the pain, and his tiredness didn't let him.
Gathered his strength to mutter some words to the doc, "It's... alright, Doc. I..." couldn't continue, he just wanted a bit more rest now.
Two eyes widened up in a dimly lit room. The yellow flower in front of the source of this dim light had been there for so long, it was slowly withering away.
The patient wondered how long was he lying on that bed as he got up and stared at the poor flower.'You and me, we are alike.'he sighed. His eyes moved on to the rings lying next to the vase so peacefully... They were not so peaceful for Sol's mind, even now... He barely moved his eyes off them and took the goggles which were collecting dust for a while on the stand. Cleaned them up with his hospital clothes and donned them on. Opened the door to see a nurse watching him, she looked tired, the corridor was empty if not for her. He turned his back to her and walked away, ignoring her protests. Found himself outside soon, it was dark and probably very late as there was nearly no one around. As he was walking down the stairs, passing the beautiful park, making his way to the landing pads, he reminisced every second he had lived in those places. Mr. Badguy was still where Sol left him. Sol felt nice despite everything when he was in the cockpit of his Sabre again.
He remembered Doc's words, 'What makes you a slave is not cardamine, but your loyalty to Maltese,'. "I am sorry, Doc," he muttered as he was rising above the clouds, "I am weak,".
Sol didn't know what was next then, but he knew that... he was craving for cardamine, and only that mattered.
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"Where did Sol go?" asked Doc when he entered the room.
"He just up and left, Doctor," the nurse answered, "he checked himself out." That's when Doc got the report of the Sabre leaving nearby.
Heading out the front door and standing before it looking skyward, he sighed with tight lips, "I'm sorry, Sol, I did my best."
He went back into his office and looked at the metal box that contained much of his work that he had done with cardamine. He looked at it and then skyward again before looking at the box.
"A miserable failure," he said as he grew angry, "All that work and false hope for nothing." He threw the box against the wall, all of the contents opening and breaking on the ground. Distraught, Doc sat in his office before finally returning home.
[color=#FFFFFF]The shuttle landed on the roof of the medical centre and Samantha rolled out on her wheel chair. She declined any help from the medical personal, and even though she made a remarkable recovery she was still quite weak from the treatments and still missing a leg. Later that day Sam settled in her new room and got to look out of the window something she couldn't do before as she was pretty much tied to the bed or unconscious. The sprawling city looked like it was alive, beyond the massive garden in front of the medical centre the skyscrapers raised above as ships, speeders and suborbital transports flew past them glittering in the distance.
Every second Samantha had between the compulsory medical checks she spend trying to build up her strength again, or doing administrative work for her squadron and Kirkwall. She also liked to go out in the garden and reflect on herself. Nobody bothered her mainly due to the mask she wore supplying vital Maltese atmosphere, but she like it that way. The only thing she really hated was somebody seeing her weak. And old fear strengthened by a thousands complexes and quite masterfully hidden behind the "iron lady look". Sam hated being weak with every fibre of her being. She was weak she left her sister and family to rot, she was weak she sold her body so she can buy food, she was week she feel in love, she was weak her husband got shot...So she promised to herself that nobody no-one will ever see her weak and where did that lead her. A disliked loner who will sold her own mother to get what she wanted, use people like they are just inanimate object and less friends than a homeless person in the slums of Manhattan. She was weak again almost two months ago and she nearly lost her life.
Doreen entered Sam's room early in the morning, smiling in confidence. She set her coffee down to give her full attention to her patient.
"Morning, Samantha. How's it going?" she asked of her.
As the two women made small talk, Doreen again ran her routine scans and exams of her patient.
Her internal wounds had completely healed and her skin had settled to where Samantha would feel perfectly comfortable. Once finished, she took a seat by her patient.
"I have a team here who is well versed in prosthetics," she explained, "you will have some choices as to what leg you can have. Once installed, there will be a regiment of physical therapy. When all is said and done, no one will know the difference, that is, unless you tell or show them."
Doreen then placed a caring hand on her shoulder, "I promise you, I'll see you through this. I just ask for your patience and hard work. Together, we can do it and get you back to your old self."
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