First it was noise. The ramblings of people around. No one word clear enough to understand. At least not enough to comprehend what was being said. Merle couldn’t remember exactly what happened. A few scattered images of screens were flashing at her, red lights all around. Her Sichel’s systems shutting down one by one. A slow acceptance of what was to come next.
Then the voices grew clearer. She could make out a soft spoken female voice now. “Patient’s name is Merle Schwartz. Recovered from her wrecked fighter after the engagement that freed Schroder. She’s out of critical danger but should be monitored for at least a week.” Another voice replied, a deeper rougher male one. “Alright. Continue monitoring the patient and notify me of any deterioration of her condition. We want to keep as many of the pilots that were out there alive.” Now there were steps. The sound of them fading away as Merle gradually drifted into sleep again.
The dreams that followed were vivid, the colours too intense, the imagery distorted. She sat in a ball of glass, fire enveloping it slowly as cracks began to form. And then she sat upright, eyes wide open, slowly adjusting to the dimmed light of the room. Her heart raced. She was alive. A soft chuckle escaped her. It was funny. After resigning herself to oblivion, waiting for the life-support of her ship to ultimately fail, to wake up once more. It was amusing. Then there was the female voice again and now Merle saw that it belonged to a nurse. “So you’re awake Frau Schwartz. That’s great news.” She stood in the door to the small room, carrying a tray in front of her with an IV bag.
“You’ve suffered some burns and lacerations, hit your head pretty badly as well. We put you on Tilidine. To help with the pain.” She gave her a sly smile. “What happened…? I can barely remember the events…” Merle’s voice was raspy. The nurse seemed to hesitate a bit. “It seems you’re suffering from some form of post-traumatic amnesia. I’ll see that the doctor is notified.” The nurse worked quick as she exchanged the IV bags and some insignificant chatter started between them before she left again.
“So how’re you feeling, Frau Schwartz?” In front of Merle sat a middle-aged man, the top of his head already starting to bald. From the voice she recognised that he was the same one that must’ve been in her room a couple of hours ago. “The painkillers are working.” She gave him a faint smile. “Nurse Kraus informed me that you don’t seem to recall some of the events before coming to again, is that correct?” She nodded and let out a sigh. “I remember my Sichel failing. The Alliance tore into it. I remember some chatter about reinforcements arriving. And then…” She tried to remember but nothing came. “Well from the preliminary examination it seems that you’ve suffered a moderate head injury.”
He made a couple of notes on a form in front of him, before bringing the pencil up to his mouth and beginning to gently chew on the back. “As there’s no available capacity anywhere else we’ll need to keep you here for a week or so. Observe your recovery.” Merle simply nodded, the exhaustion still wearing her down. “You’ll probably recover from PTA. You might start to remember some more details in a month to half a year from now.” She began to get up from the chair in the doctor’s office and was about to leave when he called to her once more. “Frau Schwartz, you’ll be pleased to hear that through the efforts of all the pilots that sortied Frau Schroder was successfully freed. You were successful, I hope that it’s some consolation. You didn’t bleed in vain. Those deeds and those that died for them are not soon to be forgotten.” She held her breath for a moment just then. Closing her eyes as she held back tears. “Even if they were forgotten, at least I’ll remember being there. And those alongside me.” As she leaves the room, a painting of a small blue flower catches her attention.
