The Girl in the Tank: Galactic Consortium, Season 1

Episode Two: A Shaky Start: Chapter One

"Keep me posted about his condition," Fox said. He went to wipe the sweat on his brow and remember again that his right arm was gone. He sighed and wiped with his left. "Hell of a way to wake up. I wonder if these people have any coffee."

He looked up to find the woman watching him. The side of her mouth twitched up in a hint of a smile. "Coffee?" she said. "You guys might be civilized people after all. End of the hall, take the lift up and then backtrack about halfway. You'll find a mess. Breakfast service should be going."

With that she was gone, following the healers.

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Cheyenne stood on the deck of the Cambridge. The sky was slate gray. Wind whipped the peaks of the waves white.

She looked around, trying to place what was wrong. Wind was whipping the waves, but she couldn't feel it against her skin. She stood alone on the deck but she heard...noises.

The memory of the attack swept over her. She looked up at the clear sky. Her movements were slow and choppy. They, too, did not quite match the visual stimulus and she wondered, what she seeing this? Or remembering it?

She thought she could hear voices talking. She tried to move toward the sound.

A voice spoke in a strange language, followed by English. "I think she's awake. Are you awake?"

"Hello?" she replied. "Who are you?"

"This is Janda," the voice said. "Are you awake?"

"Janda? Where are you?" Cheyenne asked. She heard a thudding noise. She felt, dimly, a pressure against her hand.

Another voice appeared, one she did recognize. It was low but feminine. "Cheyenne, this is Lana," the voice said. "Calm down, you are okay."

"But where are you?" Cheyenne persisted. "I can't see you."

"We are here. You are on board the Medical Evac ship, Corelean. Janda and I are your healers. We are with you."

"But," Cheyenne began, the Cambridge was gone. Her mind, deprived of visual stimulus, flipped through a half dozen images. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She could hear the two of them, Lana and Janda, having a quiet conversation, something about nerve dampening, pain and would she go into shock again?

"Cheyenne, listen," Lana commanded. "Stop thrashing." Cheyenne froze, unaware that she had been thrashing. "You are in a medical tank. Your eyes, your whole body, was badly injured in the attack. We are treating you and we promise we will get you better. Okay?"

"Okay," Cheyenne said.

"We have dampened most of your nerves. We are going to slowly back off a little bit, just a little. You will become more aware of you body, your surroundings. You must talk to me, though, let me know when you start to feel pain."

Dimly she began to sense she was swimming, no floating, in some warm fluid. She reached for the surface but her hands started to tingle and then burn. "My fingers," she said.

"Enough," Lana said, though it sounded like it was directed towards someone other than Cheyenne.

"I can't feel my fingers," Cheyenne said.

"It's going to be okay, just relax and float. I am here," Lana repeated.

Cheyenne tried to do as she was told, but she couldn't escape a vague sense of panic. Lana hadn't said why Cheyenne couldn't feel her fingers. Did she want to know?

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"Good Morning, Chief Bankim," Shana Dowlings said as the door opened for her chief of security.