The Galactic War: The Rebel Base

[Myitt]

Niko's dark eyebrows raise in surprise. "I guess the human-to-Hork-Bajir ratio is kind of skewed, isn't it," he says quietly, sitting back from his empty plate. He smirks. "Though I think even most humans could do with a bit more social interaction around here. God, the place is like a funeral, sometimes." Now his eyebrows furrow in dismay. "Yarin says that's...yeah, probably a poor choice of words." He shakes his head and idly swirls the water around in the dented tin mug. "How about we throw a party? An honest to god party." His eyes light up as he looks between Terenia and Rythil, conspiratorially. "With a cake."

[Chad32]

Derrel suddenly perked up. "Someone just mentioned the word cake."

<Seriously? All the noise in this room, and you zone in on the word cake? Your obsession with food is amusing. Cake isn't even good for you, though. You need nutrition.>

<I'm eating cabbage, aren't I? Sugar is good in small amounts. Cake would be good.>

"Do we have the stuff to make a cake or two around here?" Derrel asked.

[KitsuneMarie]

Illim blinks at Derrel's abrupt change in the conversation, and he groans a little. "Nothing like going from coffee to cake with miss-mile-a minute over here already," he gives Edith a teasing wink. "And sorry to disappoint, but it's doubtful. You know how hard it would be to transport milk and eggs here without them spoiling?"

[Chad32]

"What can I say? I love food. The Sharing almost got me because they had a free buffet. Then I was abducted by aliens." He said with a small laugh. "What would you like to talk about, Illim?"

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

"A...party?  How?  Is that even possible?  Would it ever be approved?  I suppose it would be nice to unwind in a more social situation...of course...well I'd still be the crossbred 'elephant/dark-horse' in the room..."  Rythil looks dejected for a second again, but recovers quickly.  "I guess it would be nice anyway."

"And the skewed ratio doesn't bother me.  There aren't many Hork-Bajir here...honestly that makes sense.  But...well...my intelligence makes it awkward for me to interact with them as well.  The chance that there would be another Seer here is blatantly astronomical.  I'd be surprised if there are more than three or four, other than myself, currently alive in the entire Universe."  He shakes his head and glances over at the Hork-Bajir table where a few of the controllers are socializing via their hosts.  He gestures at one of the males.  "Take Naka for instance...he's an attractive male.  See how his head blades curve back gracefully, but have an angular strength?  His neck is strong, his shoulders well-formed.  He looks as though he just anchored after a day of working hard, gliding through the trees.   He's a...stimulating...s pecimen of Hork-Bajir.  But were I to talk to him without his Yeerk...it would be as if I were talking to a very young human...barely able to form words and sentences, with little grasp of certain concepts or meanings."  He pauses, choosing his words carefully before continuing.  Talking about his...appetites...o ften made humans uncomfortable.  "Were I to pursue any...physical...re lations with Naka, even if he possessed a basic understanding of what we were doing, and was happy to take part, I would feel guilty about it...as if I were taking advantage of him with my intelligence.  I mean, would he really understand the meaning behind what we'd done?  The short and simple answer is no."

Rythil sighs.  "It happened once...Naka and I helped each other out while Firin and Naril were feeding.  It was...enjoyable...f or the both of us, and not a foreign concept.  Adolescent males and females on the Homeworl, I'm told, would often do things with their friends just as a form of play, with no added context.  And that's what it was to Naka...we were making each other feel good.  But I want emotion...feeling.  Some Hork-Bajir develop a sort of rudimentary experience of emotion, but nothing so strong and detailed as the emotions that humans can feel.  And I want to be able to carry on a cogent conversation with a significant other.  Talk about what we do all day and stuff."  Rythil shakes his head.  "Wishful thinking, eh?"

Rythil shrugs before smiling again.  "But a party would probably be nice, if you think it can be pulled off."

[Estelore]

Mal walked back toward the lab, his coffee starting to get cold, but the sick feeling in his gut still fresh and sharp. He walked in and closed the door behind him, pulling out a box of old specimen slides from a nearby shelf. He rifled through the box and the notes attached to it until he found what he was looking for- the complete list of cross-species antibodies shared between a Yeerk and a human host.
<We're going to need fresh non-addicted tissue samples, since we used up the last set for Jo's business; let's get this over with. Lancets are in the third drawer over.>
Okay. Which side this time?
<Left dorsal, please. Not too close to my palps. Leave me in the bath for a little while when you're done.> Mal slowly worked his way out of Soren's head, and Soren reached up a hand to receive him. He grabbed a small sterile tissue lancet from the drawer, swabbed Maliss' back with a non-toxic sterile solution, and cut a tiny piece of greyish-green tissue quickly and carefully from the Yeerk's left upper flank. He placed Mal into a nearby tub of warm nutrient-water, checked that the interface screen was turned on, and set to work on the tissue sample. He carved a paper-thin sliver and spread it onto a prepared slide, then put the rest into a test tube with a preparatory solution, setting it into a small centrifuge against the wall. He took out another lancet and drew blood from his palm, giving it a similar treatment. He spent the next hour studying the two new slides and comparing them to samples he'd taken from Joanne and Keshin, making notes on paper and typing comments into the interface with Mal.

Soren stood up and stretched, picking up Mal and helping him re-infest.
<Are you sure you managed to isolate all the typical antibodies?>
Yes. Now we just need to get samples from Farrah, Keslin, and Chris, to identify atypical antibodies or hormones following oatmeal exposure.
<Good. I'll let them know.>

Mal sent out a message to Farrah and Chris- 'At your convenience, please come to lab for tissue samples.'
<I figure if we say 'at your convenience,' it will buy us some more time to work on Jo's problem.>
Right. Now where did I set that tablet-

[KitsuneMarie]

Illim shrugs. "I dunno." Then he bursts into sudden laughter. "How about the weather?" He elbows Edith with a wink. "Yeah? Like that? I'm a funny guy."

[Chad32]

"There have been civil wars over control of the coveted thermostats in this complex. Great battles of will and nonlethal weaponry. Subterfuge and mystery abound about secret mafia groups, and lines drawn between the cold and warm natured alike. Bribery, intimidation, corruption, and more over mere degrees of temperature change." Xevec said.He took another look towards the door, out of habit.

[Terenia]

Edith snorts and rolls her eyes, clearly not amused. "You know what I'd like to see?" she says suddenly. "A real thunderstorm. I kind of remember them from when I was a kid, but not very well. I just remember being scared and hiding under the covers. But I bet they're loads of fun."


It is some time before there is a knock on the door that leads to Mal's lab, accompanied by a call of greeting. "Mal, Soren? It's Farrah and Isren."

<<I don't know what they keep themselves locked up over in there,>> Farrah murmurs to herself, watching the door expectantly. With one hand she idly plays with her long, dark braid.

<<Research of some sort or another,>> Isren responds blandly.

<<Well, obviously. I meant of what sort. I don't know of any projects Sam has going on beyond Patrick and Melissa's, and I'm in charge of those.>>

<<Perhaps you should ask him.>>

<<Maybe I will.>>

[Chad32]

"Tough crowd. Maybe Terenia would like my jokes. She seems to have a sense of humor. Thunderstorms can be fun to watch. Flashes of lightning all across the sky, like a light show. It gets pretty scary when it's close enough to rattle your windows, though."

[Estelore]

Soren opened the lab door and stood away from it, gesturing to a chair nearby. "Farrah and Isren. Thanks for coming."

Mal took over. "If you'll have a seat there, we'll take some blood samples, ask a few questions, and send you on your way. I appreciate your promptness and cooperation."

[Terenia]

"Windows," Edith says emphatically. "That's another thing I'd like to have. There's no point in them underground here, but it'd be so nice to look out and see things. Green things." She sighs a little wistfully.


Farrah's dark eyebrows raise a little. "You'll have to forgive me, Maliss," she says as she steps into the lab. "But what, exactly, do you need my blood for?" Her smile is a little thin, her eyes sharp and intelligent. "I don't quite recall missing any of my own check-ups, and typically I leave that to Issid."

[Estelore]

"Working on a counter-agent for prolonged exposure to the neuro-active molecules found in oatmeal. You're one of the only people on board who's been exposed to it, so your cells might have the clues we need to reverse the stuff. In the long term, we might even be able to develop a preventative inoculating agent. Take it up with Keslin and Chris, if you have a problem with it; we're just doing our job, Farrah."

Mal brought out a phlebotomist's syringe and a sterilizing swab, waiting for Farrah to take a seat.

[Terenia]

Farrah's eyebrows shoot even higher and she leans back against the doorframe, folding her arms across her chest. "Keslin and Chris?" she echoes blankly. Then she shakes her head. "Maliss, Soren. I think you've been thinking more than you've been listening again. Isren has certainly never been exposed to oatmeal. He despises the stuff, as any Yeerk rightly should, and he wasn't here during the famine." Her dark eyes narrow slightly. "One of my patients has been the victim of oatmeal exposure, in a roundabout sort of way. Perhaps that is what you are referring to? And if so, I am going to have to caution you against approaching her regarding any samples."

[Estelore]

Mal shook his head and leaned back against the counter top. "You've not been directly exposed to the oatmeal itself, no, but you've worked extensively with somebody who has. One of the compounds that I've correlated with addiction in Yeerks is able to be both absorbed by human skin and lungs and excreted in human sweat and exhalations; depending on how much contact you've had with Melissa, you could very well have developed the beginnings of tolerance. Your blood will either contain or lack the contact-absorbed compound, and if it lacks it, then we get to try to track down Melissa for samples instead. Of the two of you, I figured you'd be more cooperative, and we can arguably get better information this way, anyway: if you have traces of the compound, then it means Melissa will definitely be producing it on her breath or skin, and there will be enough evidence to imply causation, and not merely correlation."

Mal sighed and looked down at his hands. "I also want to know to what extent you and the other medical staff have been aware of the oatmeal experimentation Chris and Keslin were performing. Before today, I had no reason to question the ethics of any of my colleagues here, but this situation has cast many things into doubt for us, and we need to know where we stand."

He looked up and made solid eye contact with Farrah. "I need to know I'm not the only person here whose first concern is healing, and giving these people what they need, and not this damned war. I do want a blood sample, if you'll volunteer it, but I need the information more. I also need any information you can share about Melissa's condition and what early symptoms she showed when the necrotic gas interacted with the oatmeal."