Cold Storage

"Hey, Miss Lady Jedi Girl," Ben's voice travelled back to the two. "I hope you found him, because we're due to dock with this frigate in a couple seconds, and I'd rather not have a search team on this ship."

Ben was in an interesting state of being, both mentally and physically. Physically, he was calm, collected, and by all who could see, an actually competent pilot and captain, in both manner and skill. Mentally, he was trying to figure out how to respond to the fact that Cirr - mechanic aboard a freighter, mostly quiet, and hot on Lyanie - was now a Captain in the Alliance Navy. Ben's normal response to Rebels was skittishness and sometimes outright avoidance, and where he couldn't he'd try to defuse his own nerves by making jokes, both bad and good ones.

Cirr's change in status, a thing Ben could have never imagined, was slow in being truly comprehended, and so the trouble over how to treat the burly mechanic - no, Captain - was one that translated into a state between anxiety and relief.

Ben also never liked sticking around large warships, and here he was docking with one, so there was always that, too.

The doors hissed open on the umbilical, and Cirr waved off the two marines assigned as "greeters". The situation was under control. He looked back to Ben, and further back to the little eccentric Jedi and the other...more eccentric Jedi.

"So, you'rre jin the Jedji thawjing busjiness now?" he wisecracked to Ben, giving him a strange look.

He tapped his comm.

"Thjis jis Raurrssatta. Have the doctorr meet us on the umbjiljical. We've got a...guest."

With the appropriate help called, he approached the girl and the Nehantite.

"How jis he?"

And just as she was about to attempt to set right the Nehantite that she had personally confused - shoulda thought that one over, missy smarty-pants, now shouldn't ya have?... she now realised, that were he a droid, this wouldn't at all be an issue - the other nonhuman being - the Captain, remember, blondie? Ra-urr-ssa-tta. Say it with me, now. Force almighty, get your little blonde head on straight - derailed her train of thought, which was generally perilously close to coming off the rails half the time, anyway.

Sindy slowly eked her head around, most of the one-hundred-and-eighty degrees around to look at the Cizerack - G'damn, that's creepy, girlie. You gotta do that? Shit, you're all topped out now, aren't you? All overloaded. Fuckin' hell. - and answered him.

"He's not taking the carbonite thing too well. Hibernation sickness, I imagine."

In an strangely flat voice with flat eyes.

"I think he's broken, Captain."

"Hibernation sickness is a fallacious diagnosis, as there is no contagion introduced into an organic environment to cause..."

Realizing he'd interjected in the midst of a conversation he only heard in the background as he arrived, Vek Vek blinked, and looked past Captain Raurrssatta. He doubled back, eyeing Ben over critically.

"Dialation of the pupils, elevated heartrate, signs of fight or flight stimuli having tragically..."

No, no, not why he was here. He turned and...

"Egad!"

Frowning even more, he pulled out his medical bag, and began to rummage.

"Omnicorius Nehantus, male, age indeterimate, state of molt possibly complicated by carbon storage...dreadful."

He paused, noting the reaction time in the eyes.

"Adaptive sensory deprivation still an issue. Will begin a comprehensive stimulus regimen once...sterilized."

Carbonite. The word kept running through his head. He'd heard of it before, and even invested in a company who was developing new uses for carbonite freezing, but what did that have to do with him?

Are you really that stupid? His brain asked.

Shut up, you're not helping. Hal answered back.

Oh sorry, body, I can always turn off higher functions, you know.

Not unless you make me get you a stepladder so you can reach them!

She's really pretty. You might have a shot with her, if you play your cards right.

What? I'm the body! I'm the one who's supposed to say stuff like that, and then you get all offended and tell me to think about personality and feelings and all that crap!

Sorry, we're in extra-special-reserve stupid mode, right now, so I'm down at your level, it seems, for the moment.

She is pretty, though, huh?

Yeah, and I think she likes you, too. Play that Jedi card, might get you some action.

She's staring at me.

Looks like she's not the only one. You've got company, and I heard the word "Doctor."

Maybe I've got some kind of disease or something, that's why we can't remember.

No, I just figured it out! You were frozen in carbonite!

I was?

Uh, yeah, that's why you feel like crap, can't see in color, and your short-term memory is shot.

Think it'll come back?

Hell no, dude, that shit is gone. You'd be better off trying to remember where you put Master Hopti's socks.

Oh crap, I'm that screwed? All I remember is the diner, and I'm hungry again.

That's as far as I go, too. Hey, they're staring at you, and that doctor is saying stuff I really should be paying attention to, but I'm not, for some reason. You should probably do something.

Uh, like what? You're the brains of this operation, remember? Like, literally.

You used that word right! I'm so proud of you, base impulses! But, uh... hang on, these wheels are gonna take some effort to put back in motion. I think you're on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Can you still have sex after those?

Don't see why not.

Whew, good. Okay, well, I'm gonna try something, here. Pull the kill-switch if this goes horribly wrong.

You kidding? I'll pull out the popcorn and laugh if something goes wrong! Go for it, base impulses!

The back and forth of the two halves of his psyche ceased, and Hal looked at the small group which had gathered before him. Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, he asks aloud, "Was I in carbonite, in that ship? And... what year is it?"

His base impulses having been left in charge while his brain was trying to jump-start itself, he then reacted to the doctor's last words. "Wait, sterilized? What?! Oh hell no!" His manacled paws immediately covered the most important part of him they knew of - his crotch.

Vek Vek raised the fleshy pad over his left eye in curiosity.

"Fight or flight response also intact. Base cognitive functions survived the freezing process."

Almost forgetting the fact that he was indirectly spoken to, the doctor waved a gloved hand dismissively.

"Nonsense. Unethical. Nehantite reproductive cycles elevated, albeit unthreatening to biodiversity writ large."

He sneered.

"Coital necessities, if unable to be confined to the ship, ah, come at the suggestion of rigorous blood testing at best, robust prophylactic at the least."

He turned, realizing everyone else was more or less loitering and not improving the state of the medical need.

"Our patient is ambulatory, I suggest in no uncertain terms he be transferred to my infirmary."

"Then by all means, take him to your infirmary," Ben said, crossing his arms and watching everything unfold before him, still with his unusually calm expression and mien. Lyanie might have recognized it as Ben acting more like his old self, but she wasn't there to see it.

"If he's Jedi though, he should probably be heading to the Wheel. A whole bunch of them there. Hells, he might as well hitch a ride with me. I was taking little miss 'I'm not a Jedi yet' to the Wheel all ready."

He glanced over at Sindy, who was doing her own weird song and dance, or rather her lack of song and dance now. Perhaps the situation had gotten to be too much for her fragile mind also.

Even more proof the entire galaxy was going insane, excellent!

"Seems like she might need a bit of something herself."

Whatever was going to happen, Ben was adamantly sure that he wasn't leaving his freighter. It was enough to be docked with an Alliance warship, but to willingly enter into one... He'd more than enough of whatever craziness was following him around.

Hal gaped at those around him. His brain was still busy getting things up and running again, or maybe it was taking a break with a soda and a magazine (he wasn't quite sure), and so his instincts kicked in once more.

"Uh, hey, excuse me. Do I get any say in this?" he asked. "What's this about a wheel? And, can I at least get a sandwich while I'm in here?" He nodded to the galley around him, but apparently the answer was no as he soon found himself being escorted down the hall and toward the umbilical connection to the Novgorod.

"You know, you guys kinda suck at rescue missions," he snarked, shaking his head as he changed ships.

Hey, you working yet?

Oh, uh, no, not yet. Sorry, kinda got distracted.

I knew it! You totally don't get to yell at me for being lazy, anymore.

You are lazy, though, body!

Well, true, but still. Medical exam, think I should be worried?

I would be.

Gee, thanks.

No prob. I think I'm gonna shut off for a bit. I don't think I want to see some of this.

That's it, when I get out of here, I'm giving you such a hangover!

It'll hurt you just as much as it hurts me.

It'll be worth it, brain! It'll totally be worth it!

Cirr nodded at Ben, agreeing with his assessment. He was out of the Jedi protection racket, but they both knew the best options available on how to deal with Jedi came from the other Jedi. Besides...as he looked back at the Nehantite, he started to wonder if maybe being stuffed in a metal brick for a century didn't make his brain all jo'laakee.

"Agrreed."

The Nehantite spoke again, and the barrage of tricky questions and temporal quagmires present flummoxed him. Hopefully Ben and the weird Jedi girl could work with the soft glove approach.

"Why don't we all come aboarrd forr a spell. Hot chow and a brreatherr, and a moment forr the good doctorr to...uh...fjigurre out ourr Jedji frrjiend."

Vek Vek nodded.

"I concur. Fructose and simple carbohydrates may help to encourage metabolic regulation and patient compliance. Quarantine period of a minimum two hours recommended, to ascertain the viability of any, ahem, heirloom pathogens potentially in the system."

Vek Vek pulled a series of small portable shield generators out of his bag and handed them to each person.

"Gas permeable quarantine fields to be worn until I deem otherwise. Will keep unwanted dander and microorganisms segregated from general warship population."

Ben looked at the little device, dumbfounded.

"Ah, I don't need this, because I'm not going," he waved his hand in the general direction of the umbilical docking tube, "in there. I've had enough of all this crazy stuff. Let me know how it goes."

Noticing that his hands were trembling, he quickly put his hands in his pockets and surveyed the assembled cast of oddballs.

"I've got to run diagnostics and all that on her anyhow. I know something got thrown off when I was dodging those tractor beams."

Halajiin Rabeak was not a fan of personal shields.

Not because they were a totally cheap move to avoid getting shot. Not because they could foil pickpocketing attempts, nor because the reeked of upper-class techno-geekery, or because they shimmered like a vampire from a bad teen romance holonovel.

No, Halajiin Rabeak hated personal shields because they hummed.

Oh, it wasn't a deep hum, or a loud hum, or a high-pitched piercing hum. Instead it was this mildly irritating hum which reverberated in his eardrums, amplified by the natural shape of his ears. Incessant, aggravating humming which simply droned on and on and on, driving him mad, all the while inaudible to most species. Oh yes, Hal hated personal shields, but as he managed to press the button on his own, he gained a whole new type of hatred for the device, and once more it had to do with his species.

"Mother F#%@^R!" he shouted, his jaws then clenched, neck straining as he tried not to unload more expletives. His thumb hammered at the off switch, but it was slow to react. By the time it did, he whipped his tail forward and held it on one paw, rubbing the section which had been unfortunate enough to be outside the reach of the shield and had taken a very nasty pinch. "Oh, that hurt!" he grunted, massaging his tail to restore circulation so that it wouldn't bruise. Then, much more carefully, he re-activated his shield and made sure to keep his tail close as he was led along to the infirmary.

Halajiin Rabeak was most certainly not a fan or personal shields.

Ben wasn't getting off the hook that easy. They still hadn't had their little chat, had they. He clapped a friendly arm around the human's shoulder.

"Rrelax, you'rre jin good hands. jI'll make surre to even top off yourr fuel. You thjink jI'd let you leave wjith a shjip that was less than 100%?"

He gestured to the umbilical.

"Hot chow, good company. jI know at least a few people who'd be glad to see yourr smjiljing face."

"Ahem."

The doctor looked perplexed. The module was designed to only repulse micro-scale liquids and solids. He quickly inspected the device, making a tweak.

"Normally my patients are not of such a hirsute nature. Static discharge unfortunate. I will account for...ah...vestigial arboreal appendages."

His work quickly done, he blinked, a significant gesture on a face dominated by eyes. His attempt at a smile seemed strained.

"Now, nourishment and diagnostics. I would prefer to examine you when you are not languishing in a state of ketosis. Accurate picture. Better understanding. If afflicted by a terrible forgotten plague, treatment success more likely."

It took a few minutes, it always did, and by the time she 'snapped out of it', they were already heading somewhere else - To the infimary, we go. Follow that doctor! Follow your new friend. I betcha noticed he was getting sweet on you, huh? - and the oft-times critical inner voice was blathering on, getting particularly spunky in times when her emotional faculties and personality checked out for a few minutes. Sindy blinked, blushed, rolled her eyes and activated the personal shield, as at least her conciousness had managed to keep track of everything going on around her. It was weird, checking out and still remembering everything that occured when she did.

Oh, that feels funny. Like a shiver up her spine as the shield went up, just in time to cross over from the Skipper to the Novgorod, only stopping a second to look back to see if Cirr and Ben were following along anytime soon.

"Come on, Ben. Be an un-chicken-butt! You can do it!" She thrust a 'thumbs up' at the two. "Come on, you guys. The disease train is leaving without you!"

Cirr was speaking in the tone of voice that said, 'Do what I say, or I'll make you do it while you're unconscious. Please. I'd rather not have to expend the effort.'

Ben could never stand up against that, especially with the tightening grip on his shoulder promising worse if this continued.

"You'll make me go anyway, won't you?" Ben asked tiredly. Cirr nodded, still sporting that friendly look on his face. Letting a deep breath loose, Ben gestured bleakly for the umbilical.

"Well then, let's go," he said, following the doctor, and the Jedi, and the not yet Jedi, with Cirr leading him in such a friendly manner into the belly of a ship full of lunatics.

Reluctant to continue use of the shield, Hal tried it anyway, and was relieved when it didn't snap him again.

Brain, did you get any of that?

...

Hey! Brain! I have no idea what he just said! I think he insulted me, but I'm not sure.

...

Okay, fine, be that way. But if I wind up punching someone and get in trouble for it, it'll be your fault!

In over his head, Hal nodded to the doctor, completely unable to place his species, and grumbled. "Fine. You lead, I'll follow."

With Vek Vek at the head of the column, Hal looked back at the others and wondered if he'd be eating with them, or in the infirmary. He hoped it would be at the captain's table, as that's often where the best food was, and hospital food, no matter what hospital you went to, was routinely worse than many of the diseases and ailments the doctors were trying to cure. Knowing his luck, it was going to be hospital food for Hal, but he would have to wait and see if the doctor was going to break him off from the pack.

At least Sindy was coming. Of everyone so far, she'd been the only one to actually really talk to him, and he hoped to see more of her, later.

The good news was that he got Ben off that speedy little runabout, so they'd be able to talk shop, and catch up on things (things like why he took off like his ass was on fire the moment he saw an Alliance ship striking colors).

The bad news? They were taking their meals in the infirmary. Or more appropriate to say, the infirmary nurse was delivering to patients under the dictatorial sanction of a quarantine. That meant no live nunas, no sandmaggot kidneys, no skipperfish, no oysters, and no sajoi.

Cirr stared forlornly down at the economically-compartmentalized lunchbox he was given. At least the main was a sandwich with meat, or at least a textured protein analogue. Honestly if it wasn't raw or rare, it might as well be one or the other. The only way he'd adapted to forrda food was to smother it in Nar Shaddaan spice sauce and hot pickles, a culinary crime he'd inheirited from Sanis.

Still, food was food. He'd eat it. Tucking in with the machine-like abandon that a Cizerack possessed from birth and the military honed to perfection, he barely paused for air as he watched Ben and Sindy enter the infirmary as well. Fortunately, the med bay was big enough to allow a few exam benches, which could tuck away when not in use. With their group and the doctor and assistant in tow, it was a bit crowded, but afforded enough room to stand and be out of the way, at least.

Vek Vek tsked.

"Captain, the status of my priority patient is unsatisfactory. Full examination needed, full extremity modality necessary to evaluate dexterity and motor skill capacity."

He gestured expectantly at the restraints.

"Don't have a masterr key, doc. Could take hjim to engjineerrjing and get a plasma torrch."

The notion repulsed Vek Vek.

"Barbarians. When only solution is a hammer, all problems presented appear to be nails. Adaptation and improvisation."

He rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a laser bone saw.

"I will require your patience and no motion."

Hal's pink eyes went wide at the sight of the obviously dangerous implement, then glanced down at the manacle block holding his wrists together.

"Are you sure that's safe?" he asked, a slight tremble in his voice, followed by a gurgle from his stomach as he could smell food from lunchboxes being opened.

Hospital food or not, Hal was hungry enough to consider that even the possibility of losing a paw might be worth it to be free to eat. Holding his wrists out, he shut his eyes and turned his head away. "Okay, Doc, just... be careful. And if I have to lose one, make it the left one."