An eagle civilian fighter swooped through the frozen clouds landing on Islay base.
It took a good 15 minutes to coax the fact Bret was actually ON the station being treated, but Jim was so behind on news he never knew it was a MIA situation.
Torture was something... He often council-ed to civilians who flew in space. It was one of the reasons he didn't leave Manhattan initially.
James was dressed in clean non stained or greasy clothing, had sheets of paper and pencil.
He peeked into the room. Surveying Brets physical condition.
There were quite a few intellectuals in the Gaian bases, something about terrorism in liberty though predisposed him to thinking he would be watching his back down every corridor or dark corner so Jim was still armed.
"We haven't talked in person before I dont think... But Ill tell you I am a doctor of psychology and people are worried about you. How are you feeling?"
*Bret raises himself up on his bed and looks at Jim.....then lifts up what remains of his left arm*
Bret:....I've had part of my arm taken off by a Gallic Royal Nutjob of a scientist...The one I care for has gone missing....I'm responsible for the Council losing ships to save my tail....I've had to deal with the fact that my life wont ever be the same and all you can ask is 'How do I feel?'....How do you think I feel?!......Oh just wonderful...Yep...My life couldn't possibly get any better then this....
*Bret slams himself back down onto the bed.....then looks up at the ceiling light*
Bret:....Look Doc...I don't know what I am gonna do now.....I'm stuck here till I get better and then I have to do something about this...problem with my arm......But as you said.....you deal with psychology.....Its not like you can wave a magic wand and *poof*...my arm is back....Thank you though....for talking to me about this......
-"If we do not learn at least one thing a day....Our minds turn to stupor"- Kyle Sparrgrove -2005
Sitting down and making notes as bret spoke jim would look at him, scribble, until he saw brets chart.
"Who else are you going to talk about it with? Honestly youl have no judgement from me. Your escape is more complicated then just kicking yourself about it.. you survived, now we will work to help you deal with that survival."
Gleaning the info in his chart it showed Brets recovery wasn't far.
"Looks like your a candidate for limb graphing... But id only trust a Zoner to do that."
he put his hands on his hips.
"You sound like Bret to me. names James Smith. Capitan of the Hooptie. Quit crying you sissy." He giggled.
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