There are many things known about the confines of a standard bacta tank. Depending on the make of tank, and, indeed, the manufacturer of the bacta, the patient can be enveloped in anything from dark pink to luminescent orange via blue, green, orange and any other colour one may care to name. Some bacta is even clear, although for the patient's modesty this type is rare, often now augmented with an artificial pigment similar to that used on Terra to colour cake icing.
Mike, suspended in the Red Home's bacta tank, was on approximately his eighth bacta dip of the last fifteen months. He knew all the facts, he'd found time to study the effects of bacta, he'd watched microscopically magnified videos of patients wounds knitting together.
This wasn't as off-putting as it sounds. At the extreme magnification afforded by GFFA tech, the image became reminiscent of a river slowly depositing silt at the mouth of a bay. Lose your sense of scale, and the most nauseating of ideas becomes mundane.
Lose your sense of time, and the shortest of occurrences can take what seems like forever.
In this case, being moved the one hundred metres from the Red Home's medical area to Terra Group's professionally outfitted treatment room.
The process had already taken nearly ten minutes. Mike had watched the other members of Team Paris saunter off the ship and back onto Mendellian soil. Mike was now being eased along the Red Home's ramp, the forty degree incline causing his tender body to press against the transparisteel body of the bacta tank. Mike was irritable, snappy, and in no way able to change his misfortune, something that angered him still further. The only thing keeping him from leaving the tank and walking to the med-bay was the presence of Noreh S'ytsirk outside the tank, one hand constantly pressing lightly against the smooth surface.
Well, Noreh, and the fact that the tank only opened from the outside. But mostly Noreh, really.
Noreh glanced curiously at the other occupant of Terra Group's medbay. She was a slight, fair-haired young woman who, even in her pyjamas, wore the golden olive branch brooch that signified a royal Lady-in-Waiting. As Mike's tank was carefully set in place, its occupant throwing exasperated looks at the inexperienced orderlies, Noreh walked over to the bed.
As she approached, she realised that the young woman, who she'd taken to be reading the magazine in front of her, was in fact staring surreptitiously at her new room-mate. As Noreh approached, however, she gave up all pretence of reading, and instead smiled at the blonde pilot.
"Welcome, Lieutenant," the bedridden woman began. She waved a hand at the chair beside her bed. "Please, take a seat."
Noreh frowned slightly, unused to being recognised as she was. She sat, and smiled at her host.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she said.
"Possibly so, although I am told there are few people of whom that can truly be said," the brunette replied. "My name is Neris, Etidorpha Neris. You, of course, are Noreh S'ytsirk, famed pilot of the equally famed Grace Squadron. Your exploits are well known, as are, I'm afraid to say, a fair number of details about what you choose to do with yourself outside the squadron."
With that, Eti's eyes flickered towards Mike and his tank, which was currently suspended in mid air as the technicians tried to work out what lead went to which socket. Noreh looked back, and realised that the pinkness of her friend's head wasn't entirely down to the tint of the bacta. She gave a little wave, and then turned back to her conversation.
Eti, meanwhile, was congratulating herself. She was well aware that, while she was trapped in the medical unit, her duties were being performed by other Ladies in Waiting. She had been miserably dwelling how these other competitors in the race for the throne of Mendellia might be outpacing her, and then fate had delivered a gift almost literally into her lap. Both Mike and Noreh had been considered for use in the anti-Becki plot spawned by Llessur Atner. Initial soundings had been discouraging, but Llessur had kept tabs on them, in case they proved to be useful. Eti had studied the profiles on them, and the other candidates, until her head had ached, and now she knew it had been worth it.
What would the Queen Mother be prepared to give her if she could further muddy the waters between Thayer and Becki? Eti's imagination ran wild, and she struggled to keep a smile from her face. She had to be careful, but if she played it right, she'd reap a rich reward.
"Were you with the Terra Group?" she asked, innocently. "It must have been terrible if he was so badly injured."
"I'm told that he was mugged," Noreh said, carefully. It was the story Vickie had concocted in case of questioning.
"They live such dangerous lives, whatever it is they do," Eti said, her eyes locked on Noreh's.
"Life can be dangerous, whatever way you choose to live it," Noreh replied. She felt uncomfortable under the Lady in Waiting's gaze, as though she was being dissected, but she forced herself to meet Eti's stare. The cold calculation behind the woman's eyes made Noreh shiver, and threw up a memory that Noreh had tried long and hard to forget.
The memory was of her mother, a woman out for all she could get. And when that required marrying her daughter to some worthless noble, then that was a sacrifice Efil S'ytsirk was prepared to make.
The similarity in Eti's expression shocked Noreh, and she resolved to be very careful around the Lady-in-Waiting. But Eti's next words drove all other thoughts from Noreh's mind.
"I wonder if you met Lord Thayer and Lady Leannan on your travels?" Eti asked. She was rewarded with a visible start from Noreh, and was in the process of patting herself on the back when Noreh said "Lady who?"
"Leannan. Lenka Leannan. She is Lord Thayer's new companion, and I am told that it may be more than a working relationship," Eti added, a repulsively insincere smile on her face. Noreh, suddenly lost in thought, failed to notice. She stood abruptly, her chair toppling backward and crashing to the floor. She winced as the steel frame clattered against the stone floor of the med-bay, and jumped as her comlink began buzzing in her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she fished the device from her pocket, and turned away from Eti, her body visibly shaking as she sought for control.
Eti strained to hear the message as Noreh listened intently. All she could make out was "....Sci wants to talk...."
The huge view screen that dominated the Terra Group ops room flickered with static as the message from a galaxy far, far, away played out on the screen.
"I want an update," Sci was saying.
"The mission didn't quite go according to plan," Josh said, staring fixedly at a point two foot to the left and one foot above Sci's head.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Sci said.
"I mean, we lost Brad," Josh began. "But he did show up again, later on." In the corner, Brad scowled at nothing much.
"And then there was the explosion, and the whole mess with Crispy," Vickie added, her face a mask of nervous anticipation. Her contribution finished, she chewed uneasily on her lower lip.
"And the fight in the warehouse," Becki added.
"And on the boat," Josh continued.
"And picking up this baby," Brad added, gesturing at where Cheriss' child lay happily asleep in Josh's lap.
Sci put a hand to his head, shutting his eyes as he rubbed his temples. "I don't want to know. How many people are dead, just out of interest?"
Vickie and Becki looked at Josh, who flushed red for a second before saying "I think maybe one." In the corner, Brad held his silence. On the view screen, Sci mouthed something that his team-mates couldn't make out. He looked up, an infinity of weariness evident perched on his shoulders like a vulture on a corpse.
"This is going to have to wait. We will be speaking when we get back, understood?"
A muted chorus of assent came from Team Paris, and Becki moved to cut the connection. Just then, the door to the ops room slid open.
"Sci, we need to talk," Mike said, stepping into the room.
Mike's body ached as he was hosed down by the Mendellian medical staff. A thick towel was wrapped around him, preserving his modesty as he was brought up to date by Noreh. News of the baby, Josh and Brad's re-appearances, and the progress of Team Paris' mission were received and filed away until he had the chance to take them out and examine them. The most important news was that Sci was online. Mike wrapped a robe around himself, and headed for the TG ops room as quickly as his stiff limbs would allow.
His time in the bacta tank had allowed him time to think, most especially about Paris and all that had happened on the mission, but also about his life as a member of Terra Group. Most especially, his mind flashed repeatedly on the number of times that being a member of Terra Group had nearly killed him.
As Vickie, Josh, Becki and Brad shuffled out of the ops room, then, Mike leaned uncomfortably against a console, and stared evenly up at the image of his leader. His course of action was clear.
"Sci," he began as soon as the door hissed shut behind Becki. "I want to resign from Terra Group."