Some Things Just Can't Be Understood

Pheobie moved over to the bed and plopped down, releasing Mr Kitty.

Goldie followed her and climbed up into the bed next to her. The frame gave a creak in protest.

Maple didn't really like most of the people that he would be traveling with, but this wasn't a pleasure cruise anyway. Besides, hopefully this deployment wouldn't last too long, or at least be in short patrol bursts. It would be nice to visit Pheobie in-between flights. He missed her already, and he hadn't even left yet.

Leaving the animals on the bed, Pheobie got up to start decorating. There was no way she was going to stay in a plain white room.

Maple's ship was finally ready to go and moving out. He glanced out the windows, knowing the lab background would be suddenly replaced by silvery void.

Pheobie thought they already had left. She was... Torn. She was glad that Maple was able to go to try and help his friend, but she was sad that she couldn't go with him.

Maple's lazy prophecy soon came true, as the ship warped out of the base and into the chaotic soup between universes.

(skip now?)

(Yus. I'll open with pheobie I guess.)

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Pheobie didn't know what had come over her. She had no sooner sat up and slipped out of bed to get dressed before having to make a mad dash to the toilet to vomit. As it was she was sitting with her head resting on her arm which was resting on the bowl. She hadn't even eaten yet, what could have her so sick?"

Maple didn't need to worry about the Chief. What he really needed to worry about was his old misuse of faulty equipment. Specifically, on a routine stop on a high-maintenance world he overloaded his GS and it blew up on his arm. It was not life-threatening, but it made his arm a bloody mess and there was some shrapnel that went to other parts of his body. This wasn't how he wanted to greet Pheobie, but he supposed it was better than greeting her dead. Or corrupted.

Goldie sat inside the door way to the room, as if he were guarding Pheobie as she sat on the floor in the bathroom.

(did you know that according to legend you can't lie around griffins?)

(lie as in not tell the truth? No actually. I know griffins often nested in cliffs and fought bitterly with some one-eyed people.)

Maple was currently in the medical wing on ship, which was heading back to base to drop him off. No need for an injured, useless colleague to stay on the ship. Some people laughed at his bad luck. Others were envious of his good luck, not wanting to be out on the field in the first place. Some were actually nice, but Maple suspected they were more polite than worried. It could be dangerous to go too attached to people in this kind of work.

(yeah. neat right?)

Goldie growled every time someone passed Pheobie's door.

Pheobie didn't seem to notice, too preoccupied with vomiting up her insides.

(yeah)

Maple was looking up at the ceiling. He was tired of looking at the ceiling. He had been looking at the ceiling for most of the day. His arm throbbed. Randomy he wished he had a small rubber ball that he could toss at the ceiling with his good arm, so he didn't focus on his bad one so much.

Finally Pheobie's stomach settled enough for her to call, like the aides had told her on the first day.

Jones answered the phone. "Hello Pheobie. Everything alright?"

"No" Pheobie groaned. "I think I'm sick. I've been puking my guts up since I got up" She replied. "You guys don't happen to have any stomach medicine just laying around do you?"

"Hmm, you should probably get yourself checked at the medical wing," advised Jones. "They have plenty of medicine there, and they'll probably want to check to make sure it's nothing serious."

"I don't remember how to get to the medical wing" Pheobie admitted "And I-" She dropped the phone and made a mad dash back to the bathroom just in time

"Hey, you still there?" asked Jones. He heard faint retching sounds. He signaled for Smith to come over. "Go over to Pheobie's and escort her to the medical wing. Sounds like she's got one nasty stomach bug. Or possibly Dr. Emmer's cooking."

"Okay," said Smith, leaving.

Pheobie was shaking. Her stomach was entirely empty but she still kept vomiting.

Goldie's ears perked at the approaching footsteps. He growled.

Smith paused warily before the growling griffin. "Pheobie? You alright?"

"I think I'm dying." Pheobie replied with a groan.

Smith doubted it was that bad, but he was still concerned. "Can I pass?" he asked Goldie.

Goldie growled again.

"Goldie, know it off" Pheobie grumbled before getting sick again

Goldie gave a small whine but stopped growling.

(know it off? you mean knock it off?)

Smith entered the room, and the smell of vomit hit him like a punch. "I'm here to take you to the infirmary."

Pheobie flushed the toilet with another Groan. "I don't know if I'll make it..." She mumbled.

(yeah. give me a break it was 7 am)