When he asked about Sakarra again, the doctor paused, looking down. The doctor turned and went into his office, searching through a stack of PADD's before he returned handing over the PADD with the solitary message. It was from a Vulcan Hospital in Te'Rashar, wherever that was. Apparently the message was sent to the Charon, informing them that Lieutenant Commander Sakarra Tyrax might not be bound for this world for very long. Brent looked up at the doctor for a moment before then looking to the time when it had been sent.
"Seven hours? Seven fucking hours you let me sleep?! While this was here?" Brent bellowed out at the top of his lungs. The doctor for his credit was not impressed and reminded the Lieutenant that he was himself quite injured and needed the rest. The doctor turned, stating that Brent needed another sedative to sleep. That was all that Brent needed to leave. He stood up, and bolted out of the door, to the sounds of doctors and nurses yelling at him to stop and come back. Apparently they were too busy to deal with a 'walking wounded' as it were, as no one pursued him...
After an excruciating shower and getting dressed into his last good uniform, Brent found himself on the transporter pad back in a new sling and beaming down to Vulcan.
=/\= Te'Rashar University Hospital =/\=
Ignoring the heat, Brent moved inside the hospital that he had beamed down right next to finding the nearest elevator and matching the symbols he found on the note with the door, he sped upwards towards what he believed was the ICU. If he could have ordered the lift to go faster he would have. Finally the doors opened and Brent moved into the hallway, being courteous and moving out of the way of everyone he passed, he still moved with a silent and steady purpose, looking at where Sakarra was supposed to be, and the markings on the wall. Finally when he came to the room he peeked inside only to find it completely empty. That icy cold pit began in his stomach as he double checked the markings on his note, before then looking back on the door.
They were the same. He looked back, seeing the nurses' station he came back, standing in front of the nurse on duty before giving her a weak smile. "Hello. I'm sorry to bother you but... Where is Commander Tyrax? I was told that she was supposed to be just down the hall... But she isn't in there..." he said leaving it hanging as to what actually happened.
Human. Injured. Starfleet.
T'Mera's dark eyes settled on the tall Marine and she recognized the distress, but could assume no logical reason why he would be here. Most of the Yel-Halitra casualties were tended to in other places, and the few they had taken in were long since downstairs, recovering.
"I have no records of a zhel-lan Tyrax. Perhaps you have been misdirected?"
Something however kept tugging at her mind, a faint note, inaudible but there, always beyond the threshold of hearing. But even if the slight, dark haired woman's instincts were not attempting to tell her something, the obvious effort of this outworlder to be polite would have compelled her to assist. To say she was touched would be admitting something no Vulcan would readily care to. But it was, as humans say, close enough.
"Might you have any information with which we could search the other hospitals?"
Brent raised an eyebrow at that. "I was given this... Late," he said and handed the PADD he had taken with him with his one good free hand. "When I awakened I came here as fast as I could. I apologize for bothering you but... The message indicated that things were dire, and this was where I was told to come and find her." He gave her a smile, as much of one as he could. His eyes looked around, as if trying to find some evidence that she was here, fruitlessly. Hopefully the computer files that they had here might have some indication as to where she might have been taken to. "Anything at all would be of help. I was hoping to find her here, but it looks like someone beat me to it. Perhaps her family? I imagine they got the same kind of message, probably before we did."
As a Vulcan, T'Mera respected the fact the Marine would seek aid if he required it. As a nurse, she objected to the male walking around injured and not tended to. As a bonded female, she sensed …
"The t'sai Sakarra. Yes, she …"
The name on the PADD had made quite clear just why the human was here. "Apologies are unnecessary. However, … you are aware of Vulcan privacy laws?"
If ever there was a sign of internal struggle, it showed only in a flickering of eyelashes as T'Mera slowly typed the federation letters 'T'Shen' onto the PADD before handing it back. "I regret I am unable to assist you. Please direct your inquiry to the proper authorities." And just in case the man with the startlingly dark blue eyes did not get the message, she stood up and pointed her chin at the door after giving the PADD a meaningful stare.
Hurry. This is all I can do.
Brent looked down at the PADD then at the woman. It took him a moment before he saw what she had written on there. He nodded. "I... Understand. I apologize for bothering you again. If you hear anything contact me please? I'm on the Charon. Leave the message for Lieutenant Warren," he said before he tapped his comm badge and after a brief conversation with the transporter chief found himself back on the Charon, but not before catching a glimpse of the nurse's name on her station.
Ah but he had no intentions of staying there for long. He immediately barged over to the console nearby and accessed the computer. "T'Shen... What the hell is… T'Shen..." he muttered aloud for a few moments looking over the results as they came in. A forest? Really? He shook his head, he could wonder about such things later. For now he finally had the location he was looking for. He told the transporter chief where to beam him next, and Brent stepped onto the pad.
When the mist dematerialized him he looked around for the moment. A courtyard. This seemed remarkably like the old monasteries he had heard about on Earth... He shoved his historical curiosity to the back and began to look around. He was searching, and most importantly. Feeling. He had been able to practice such things on the few occasions before this catastrophe and he hoped that it was enough. His eyes kept on coming back towards the East.... Finally it dawned on him, that was where he was being pulled towards. He set his jaw, leaned into his walk and began to march towards the east wing, where he knew his love awaited.
The hum and sparkle of transporters was nothing new to Sejet, not even that they occasionally appeared right in the courtyard. Though courtesy generally required one to approach through the main hall proper, asking for admittance before the by now fully symbolical donations carved into the stonework by Surak himself, the impatient ones and on occasion those who should have chosen more accurate coordinates tended to pop up in the most unlikely of places. At least this one had not interrupted a meal by materializing on top of the soup.
Steepling his fingers under the flowing sleeves of his deep red robe, the healer monk carefully stepped into the path of a tall human who moved with a rather purposeful stride towards the eastern wing. Exquisitely raked gravel crunched under the heavy Yel-Halitra boots and even the birds seemed to scatter before the man's approach, though an inquisitive Chkariya cocked its head on top of a fountain and followed the intruder's course with gleaming black eyes.
"I greet you, stranger, and offer you peace. Will you tell me what you are seeking?"
The words lost somewhat in federation standard, but few people found such trivialities less important than the healer monks. And addressing visitors in their own language if possible was after all only polite, even if they had just stomped through your lilies.
"Someone who might not be long for this plane of existence," Brent replied in an even tone as he looked at the monk. Wonderful. More delays. However he did have the foresight to delete the nurses help that she had given him on the PADD. He offered the PADD to the monk in question. "I was told that she was admitted here to receive healing. If she has as little time as was indicated then I would see her right away," he said staring at the monk with the PADD extended. In all reality this place was beautiful, however Brent had little time for the sights. He had wasted so much time already. He didn't want to waste another moment. He shifted about, slowly moving around the monk as he stood there looking at the PADD.
The young one was not fooling Sejet, radiating impatience like the blossom infuses the air with its scent. And if he was intent on storming onward he just might find an unwelcome surprise awaiting him. However …
"I shall not ask how you received such information, stranger. For I do not wish to force a lie from you. But I must ask why a Starfleet marine would seek this woman, and how it is you seem to know precisely where she is."
Handing back the little device, the monk with the steel gray strands in his mahogany hair settled a long, thoughtful gaze on the human and with a small, almost imperceptible gesture indicated to the three advancing healers that there was no need to become … insistent. Yet.
[To be continued …]
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Executive Officer
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
USS Charon
& a host of pointy ears
