Chaos Rising

1

- The following except contains the recorded experiences of witnesses from various species, races and cultures. All reports have been translated into your set Default Language for your convenience -

Burgundy velvet folds rippled across the room like an ever shifting monument to blood itself. Of the being inside the robes, there was little to be seen. Even in the bright, antiseptic light of the medlab, his face was completely overshadowed by the thick brim of his hood. Dray straightened his scrubs and made himself presentable. Whoever - or whatever - this robed figure was, they would be nowhere near the weirdest patient he had ever treated, Dray half-knew, half-hoped.

"You are a doctor?" a voice from inside the hood asked. It sounded male, but then again there were plenty of aliens with unusual vocal chords.

"Yes," Dray replied. "Are you injured?"

"I am sick," the hood replied. "I need an antibody stim."

"I'm afraid I cannot simply dish out stims to unexamined passengers. I'll need you to step this way into the triage scanner for me first."

"I can't do that, doctor," the hood replied firmly. "I need those stims." Dray clasped his hands behind his back and felt for the cold grip of his stunner. Was the hooded robe act an attempt to intimidate him?

"The scanner is non-invasive and your confidentiality is assured, sir," Dray droned. The privacy speech was one he'd been repeating since leaving the academy nearly eight years ago.

"It's only a cough. I don't need a scan," the hood replied.

"I'll still need to examine you," Dray repeated.

The hooded figure made no reply.

"Sir?"

"You have started calling me 'sir'," the hood replied. "And your arm is taught. You are holding something behind your back."

Dray reaffirmed the grip on his stunner. This man was creepy.

"You think I am a threat?" the hood deduced uneasily. "Very well." The sleeves of the hood's robe rose. Dray whipped his arm around and held the stunner between him and the hooded figure. The hood stopped moving for a second, before slowly easing his hands up to the hood's brim. For the first time in the whole encounter, Dray could see something of the hooded figure's skin and those hands looked, well, human. Dray's medical mind was using his adrenaline to work overtime. They noticed the pale, thin fingers of the hands, the barely visible veins - a common side effect of artificial gravity only found in mammals - and the bracelet-like bruising on the wrists. Force shackles, Dray's head suggested. This man had been prisoner somewhere. That explanation certainly explained the hood.

Slowly, the dark red hood was pushed back. Dray blinked. It was a human man. He looked quite young, but his eyes... His eyes looked weathered and sunken like he'd never had a night cycle of sleep in his life. Dray's eyes flicked around the man's face. His skin was pale and his hair was cropped in a shaggy crew cut.

"Please don't tell..." the man said weakly.

"All my dealings with patients are confidential," Dray replied, still examining the man from this distance. The man's eyes flicked down at the stunner and nodded. "Oh." Dray holstered it. Despite the fact that he was only a doctor, the stunner was a necessity on public frigates like the Gift. "Now, will you consent to using the scanner?"

"Don't you have a handheld one?" the man asked.

"The Gift could only afford two," Dray answered. "They've been prioritised to the main medical ward on Deck 6. You can-"