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     Cdr. Velorna Tal |
She gasped for air but could only thrash about wildly. She knew she was dying, and she fought with her burned and bleeding body for each breath. It had only been General Ironside's serendipitous timing on the transporters that had pulled her out of the expanding cloud of burning gases that had been the shuttlecraft Diana just seconds before the flames would have consumed her. Green blood caked black upon her her charred flesh, adding a ghastly palor to her already besmirched appearance. She did not feel the press of the hypo against her seered nerves. Nor could she hear its hiss in her ruptured and bleeding ears. Her nearly-sightless eyes tried to focus for a few seconds more, but eventually the blissfulness of the deep, dark blackness claimed her. ====== "Good morning, Velorna." "Good morning, Father." A chuckle. "Such formality. Kid, I might be a starship captain, but how many times have I told you I hate that crap? Hrm?" She smiled. Her teachers disapproved of her blatant displays of emotion. But she didn't care. For all her outward similarities to her Vulcan instructors, Velorna Tal was pure-bred Rihannsu. The fact that she was being raised by a human did not always sit well with the Masters either. "Oh, Dad,..." She giggled as twelve-year-old girls are prone to do. "C'mon, birthday girl. I got a present for you." Half an hour later, Velorna stood on the red sands outside of her adopted father's home on the deserts of Vulcan. Before her, on the small landing pad on which Captain Dev Wallace normally kept his private Spectre-class fighter, was - well, it was the fighter. "Okay, so what's my present, Dad?" She grinned a toothy grin. Wallace smiled, knowing that she would become a very beautiful woman some day. "You're not giving me Shadow, are ya'?" "Ha! No, not quite. But I did figure that it was time for you to learn how to fly. You've been telling me for the past two years how you want to go to the Academy. I'll sponsor you, for sure. But flight qualified for six years by the time you arrive - well, I just want you to be able to get by on your own merits." "Thanks, Dad." Her eyes grew wide as she gazed lovingly upon the fighter's sleek lines. "I'll make you proud." ====== Hours passed in silent vigil over Coronado's first officer as she lay in recovery. Though her body had been repaired as best as modern medical technology would allow, she still showed no signs of recovering. Her brain activity registered minimal, at best. Her breathing was slow and shallow. Though others tried to spell him from his watch, not one of Coronado's other senior officers nor medical personnel could tear Dr. Alec Reed from his patient's side. Her wounds had proven nearly fatal, but the doctors on Coronado were among the best that Starfleet in M64 had to offer. A large chunk had been torn away from one of her delicately pointed ears, while both of her tympanic membranes had ruptured and had required artificially grown replacments. She had lost a lot of blood to numerous cuts across her body, and what parts of her had not been cut had been burned - 30 percent or more of her flesh and muscle had been stripped away by second and third degree burns. It had taken two hours of surgery just to repair the damage to her lungs, scorched as they had been when she had inhaled the fires around her in the exploding shuttle. And her eyes would require either implants or artifically grown replacements before she would ever see again. Reed touched her face softly where he and Dyson had placed a fresh patch of syntheskin compound. He studied the once-beautiful Romulan woman's still-proud features. A light blanket covering her naked, scarred form merely served to highlight the still-attractive curves of her body. Time passed slowly, and soon the doctor found his vigil interrupted by the call of duty. Though Velorna Tal had few true friends amongst the current crew of Coronado, she had many callers throughout her slow recovery. Captain Daren, of course, sought to know when he might have his right hand back. Lt. Shar and Major Prescot - and even Commander Oswald - each stopped by to extend their concerns. Command Ma'Aru even came by with Admiral Kor before the two returned to Cerberus for some inspection or other. Savant, of course, knew everything as it happened, but she still managed to divert some processing power to send her avatar to sickbay briefly. Reed, of course, ran them all off after each had been given a few brief moments to pay their respects and offer their well-wishes. Many hours passed in this way: a visitor or two would inquire as to Tal's health, and Reed would chide them saying that he would let everyone know just as soon as the first officer was recovered. But the truth was, the more time that elapsed, the less certain Reed was that Tal would emerge from her coma. He only hoped that she was attempting some sort of Vulcan healing trance, though he very much doubted it. With a resigned sigh, Reed moved to open the files Tal had specified should only be opened in such an event. Naturally, for the person that she was, she had not wished to have her body kept alive artificially if only to serve as an empty shell. Reed glanced at Tal's unmoving form. The damage had certainly been extensive. But had it been enough to drive her spirit from her body. He was not a philosopher by any means, but he hoped that he was doing the right thing in not terminating her body's existance. Reed muttered to himself as he applied several medications to his Romulan patient: "If she wakes up dead, she'll kill me." ======== Christian D. Clem '01, aka "Aggie" Cdr. Velorna Tal, Executive Officer U.S.S. Coronado NCC-97901 |