((Sickbay – USS Narendra.))
So this was the vaunted Narendra?
Or, it was the sickbay of said vessel. Arturo had always spoken very fondly of the ship, and if Henry remembered correctly his brother had even “claimed” a particular set of quarters as his own. He had clothes and a few bits and pieces that lived permanently aboard ship, almost like a second home.
Henry wondered if those things were still there, or had they been carefully packed away by friends and colleagues and taken back aboard the station? Now really wasn't an apporopriate time or place to ask.
Especially as the only person here that he knew, didn't seem to believe that he was indeed him.
That was the male officer – one Ishreth Dal – who straightened his posture and stepped up to Henry, putting himself between the wandering journalist and the critically injured.
Dal: Mr Henry, if you could please go with Lieutenant Blackwell and wait for Commander DeVeau. She appeared to possibly recognize you, and she will be feeling better shortly. We do need to confirm your identity, and this will be quick.
He didn't know the Commander, but knew of him. Ishreth Dal was somebody that Arturo had thought very highly of, and that was from an older brother who had practically nought bad to say about anybody. He also knew that Commander Dal had a daughter, one Tyva Dal who Henry did know via her best friend and his neice Milly. He'd even sat on the sofa one evening and let the two girls give him a full face of makeup.
And then send a picture to his mother.
If he thought about it, he could still hear her gentle and delightfully musical laughter from the subsequent commscreen call.
Despite all of that, even if he knew nothing of the red-collared Commander Ishreth Dal stood before him Henry could have quite confidently wagered a dozen bricks of Ferengi gold-pressed latinum that he was in fact a Marine at heart. The posture and air of confident authority he projected was totally different to that of a fleet officer.
Henry nodded his assent to the Andorian, before turning to face the other officer before him.
Blackwell:::She looked to Mr. Henry and nodded:: Lieutenant Prudence Blackwell. And you are - Mr. Henry
Henry gave her a rogueish smile.
Maxwell: oO Charmed is what I am... Oo Aye, that's me. Pleasure tae meet you, Lieutenant.
Blackwell: Good to meet you. So how precisely did you end up in all of this? ::::she took out a scanner and did a preliminary scan under the guise of checking for gamma radiation- which it would check for, but it would also let her know if there was anything suspect on him, or unusual. Two birds, one scan.
He spread his hands out, the smile growing into a broad grim.
Maxwell: Company-funded holiday gone very badly wrong. ::He glanced passed her briefly.:: Dare I ask what's the cause ae all this?
Blackwell: The situation is this - we have evacuees who need to move into a waiting area not far from here as they arrive, and we have inoculations going out for gamma radiation - plus a shuttle bay rapidly filling up with evacuees being transported by the Belladonna.
She gave a slight smile and Henry scratched at his beard.
As indicated by the security officer, Henry stepped to a particular spot and was sealed off from the rest of the room by an energy field.
Maxwell: I'm guessing you're scanning tae see if I've got anything I shouldn't have? Weapons, bombs ::pause:: manufactured viral substances?
Blackwell: You might say that.
Again, he smiled and nodded.
It was a fair precaution. He'd read up on Terra Prime, the Cult of Molor and various other fanatical groups of varied influence and size. He knew they liked to alter peoples faces to look like friends or family, he also knew that they weren't above using chemical stimulii to turn living people into hideously potent bombs.
That was something Arturo had told him late one night in a bar when the pair where well into their cups with drink. It had given Henry a chilling pause, as no matter the grimness of a situation it hadn't been like his brother to let the horrors of the galaxy weigh him down. The human bombs though?
That seemed to have wedged a poisoned dart of fear into the older Maxwell's vibrant and ever cheerful soul.
Maxwell: Am I clear?
He offered a polite nod to Alora as she apporached. He hadn't seen or spoken to the stations FO since hi-
He swallowed. Since the USS Meili had crawled weakly back to the station and his cousin had arrived at his quarters still in her dirty uniform, hair a wild mess and shattered weight of a broken heart upon her shoulders.
Maxwell: Commander. I trust you're feeling better after your wee jab, aye?
He motioned to her neck, where he presumed that she'd been given a shot of anti-radiation stimms. A younger Henry would probably have been running his mouth off about being detained like this, but older Henry knew to just shut up and let people get on with their jobs.
Even if his basic medical skills weren't required, it would at least mean he could go find a crew lounge and get a drink and some food down him.
Maxwell: Perfectly understandable. Got tae be sure who you're letting loose aboard ship.
Henry raised an eyebrow.