Vesht akarshif, lesh Vuhlkansular ulidar t''alek, t'salur mazhiv heh t'yon-dak yon-dukal. Sharush solektra yakul etek - salan tam-tor fi'urozh heh vok-tor kahrlar. Tusa na'kusut heh kali-tor na'rishan - - -
(Ages past, Vulcans bore the mark of heat, the scar of blowing sand and burning sun. The ground opened to eat us, the wind danced on our crops and leveled our cities. We wept for the pain and we fought for survival . . .)
[IRW Endless Sky, Leih's quarters]
"Kroiha-i yhfew, thaessu."
Who would have thought? The woman actually stopped fidgeting. With a satisfied huff Saeihr poked at the fading bruise on a much too frail looking neck and recalibrated her medical scanner. Again. Either something was wrong with her instruments or this was one odd Vulcan. She was sure she had compensated for the fact this was a half-breed; not that the term was accurate in any way. If it wasn't for the eyes and some of the more lush variety of curves that you didn't exactly expect in that race, you'd have to dig into the DNA and notice a few other small oddities to realize you weren't exactly looking at a purebred thaessu. Not even her brain chemistry gave a solid clue, though it seemed that was a mess in any case.
Stupid machine. Oh, Saeihr understood you sometimes needed to employ drastic measures to get what you needed, to defend your ship, your crew, your Empire. But toying around with something this complex when you really had no idea what you were doing, and for no reason other than to see how much damage you could do... Elements, that was just foolish.
There. Not that the Hiifvehi'Saehne truly saw the point in caring for the woman's injuries if her efforts were only going to go to waste again. And there really was nothing she could do about … Saeihr frowned at her scanner that insisted the Vulcan's temperature had yet again dropped after reaching almost fever levels. But if she was fighting off an infection, where was the wound that had caused it? Not that there was a lack of choices really, but it all seemed to heal clean. Surprisingly so, to be honest. Something internal? None of this made sense.
Cracked rib. Perhaps a bone fragment that had gotten into the bloodstream? But that still wouldn't explain … she was fidgeting again and Saeihr pondered whether smacking a Vulcan to the back of the head would help. Considering the beatings this one had already endured, likely not.
"Hnafirh'rau." This really wasn't a time to be squeamish. And what a stupid dress. How did one even …
"Ie, maenek."
Saeihr was so stunned the woman actually spoke, she did not stop her from getting up. Or shedding the blasted dress. Well, now. Much better. Though what she saw now was not exactly improving the healer's mood. Ah, Fire, Air and Earth.
"So you do understand me."
"Yes."
"Talkative, are you. Sit back down, I need to mend that rib." For all the good it would do.
For someone who had to be hurting at even the smallest move, the thaessu had a certain fluid grace about her that gave Saeihr a hint why tr`Sahen was acting, well, obsessive was the word that came to mind. Not that she probably hadn't been a pretty thing before.
"Oh, will you hold still." Had that been a huff? There definitely had to be something wrong. Saeihr didn't consider herself an expert on Vulcans, but she was sure they shouldn't act this way.
Then again, they probably shouldn't have their brain chemistry scrambled before they were beaten near dead. Considering that, the woman was practically a picture of health. Good healing properties, near ideal if the healer was any judge, though the lines crisscrossing her back spoke of continued abuse, new wounds inflicted over old and not all of them made by a sharp blade. Yet the oldest, least deep were already little more than faint lines, and few enough of them would leave scars … if she lived long enough for all of them to heal.
Saeihr had pondered and dismissed the idea of using a dermal regenerator to help the process along – it might well incite the Vaek'Riov to simply start all over again, and her healer's oath resisted the thought of causing this creature more suffering, thaessu or not.
Stupid. All of it. Not that anyone was like to care about a lowly doctor's opinion. Or common sense for that matter. She frowned at her instruments on last time before putting them away and her steely grey eyes fell on the food still cluttering the desk. So, at least the woman wasn't trying to starve herself. The water was gone, as were the ihor berries, though nothing else seemed to have caught her fancy. Odd. Saeihr had personally spent hours hunting the database for thaessu nutritional needs, and not surprisingly they were easily enough fed and cared for, no matter how much of a fuss the Vaek'Riov made. Sure, the fact they couldn't stomach meat was no lie, though that was a matter of habit, not physiology. Forcing unfamiliar proteins on them would prompt something close to an allergic reaction at first, but if you gave them time you could probably feed them ship's bulkheads and they'd adapt.
Still, the things she'd selected after her tedious research required no adapting whatsoever, should even be delicious to a palate that apparently favored foodstuffs spicy enough to bring a tear to Saeihr's eyes merely from smelling them. The Rhennish had not been touched either, and that at least made sense to the healer. The woman's file suggested she was the famous exception to the rule where the thaessu high tolerance for alcohol was concerned, but even so it dehydrated them rather badly. To bodies and minds keyed on conserving water by any means possible, willful waste of the precious liquid would just be, well, idiotic. Though they probably called it illogical.
As it was, though, the enzymes inherent in the fragrant wine would do the thaessu a world of good, and if she wanted a bucket of water afterwards, well … now there was an idea.
Looking rather thoughtful, Saeihr poured a glass of the purple Rhennish and pushed it into the woman's hand. "Drink. And keep glaring at me like that, it almost makes you look like an actual person." For a moment it seemed as if the Vulcan might even answer again, but then she only canted her head and … ah. Good hearing. Very good.
"Fvah'lla." The healer stared at the door before the chime even rang and then huffed, gathering some bedsilks to throw over the puzzled looking thaessu. Well, she wasn't going to have some raffle leer at a patient of hers, not in her presence. Rude, to simply interrupt as it was … "Well? Are you going to stand out there all day?"
"Hiifvehi'Saehne." The man's bow was polite enough, probably owing to the fact he knew exactly whose face would be looking at him in sickbay the next time he stubbed his toe. Though it did little to mollify Saeihr's ire. Nor did the fact the security officer had a towering hulk of a Gai'Shian in tow, barely an adult by the looks of him though, carrying some, … oh, come now.
"What is this? Is the Galae in such a dire state we need to plunder Federation baths for soap?"
"Your forgiveness, madam. The Vaek'Riov …"
"Yes I can imagine. Put it over there and out with you."
If they were going to protest, they wisely decided to hold their tongues and merely did as told. Stupid.
If tr`Sahen had thought to gain any sort of favor with the thaessu by having some of her personal things brought here, he had sorely miscalculated. Elements, the look on the woman's face could almost be called an expression and it was one Saeihr wouldn't like to see directed at her. Naturally, if the Vulcan was but half as territorial as a Rihanha she had every right to be incensed. And what…? Candles. Fragrant, though subtly, and a flat pillow. Soaps, rather exotic to the healer's nose but they were undoubtedly hers for she recognized the scent of one of them as similar to the one emanating from her hair. Under all the blood. Small, intricate bottles that probably contained oils or perfume, and a hairbrush. How silly. They had to have gone through the place looking like fools, picking what they thought a woman might like. Well, at least the soap was useful in that it smelled better than anything Saeihr had in her quarters.
"Come on."
The thaessu merely stared at her, still wrapped in the silks and decidedly pondering murder. Somehow it only made the healer like her. Almost. A bit.
She grabbed the ivory colored ball with the familiar scent and motioned to the narrow doors set into the far wall. "Look, I don't care much for this situation either. I have better things to do than patch up tr`Sahen's newest favorite toy. But I seem to remember your kind can absorb water directly through the skin when needed and Elements know, you need it. So I can force feed you, douse you right here, or you can come with me now. Besides, I should think any civilized creature would ache for a shower in a state like yours."
Black eyes. Mind-reader eyes. In a face like cut from marble, features so clear, so lovely if Saeihr were a sculptor she'd throw away her chisel right now because nature had shown art its limits. But other than the eyes of any thaessu she had ever seen … they were alive.
For some reason, it made the hair on the back of Saeihr's neck stand up.
…
