Alex wasn’t sure how long the procedure was supposed to take. It was a lot, everyone knew that, a whole new lung and heart was going to take some time. It wasn’t as bad as having to regrow burnt limbs, a shattered spine, and whatever all that radiation did to him, at least.
The mediboard was not happy about all these alien things it was encountering. The artificial heart, the implant, the chest tube, the Tsla’o made drugs that he was using for pain management. Yatsala was working with the machine - he seemed to have a good handle on building a plan for each item with the software. Removing the heart and chest catheter like it would Human made objects, and leaving the tag from the artifact alone.
There was no workaround for the drugs. The mediboard wouldn’t use its own fabricated compounds on him until it was sure the other unfamiliar drugs were out of his system. Alex was fine with that at first. Who wants to find out what kind of reactions those would have? Not him, and surely not in his bloodstream.
The board used neuro disruption instead, generating a short range field that muted pain sensing nerves and prevented unwanted movement. He could still distantly feel the goings on, like his body was a hundred kilometers away from his head. The incisions happened, yes, a strange cold blunt feeling against his skin. What were, for all intents and purposes, medical tentacles slithering into his chest cavity, beginning the process of regenerating his organs without removing the artificial heart. He could tell it was busy in there.
An unsettling experience, and based on the reactions from the peanut gallery, one he was better off not knowing the exact details of.
He was conscious for the entire thing. The halflife on the Tsla’o painkiller was impressive, he still wasn’t tired even though he’d been awake for days now. The surgical team switched out later that evening when he was at about 40% complete. Smaller crew, but excited about the system they were babysitting. It sounded like it at least, he couldn’t understand a damn thing they were saying. Could have been talking about baseball, for all he knew.
This went on throughout the night. One of them tried to have a conversation with him. Alex had gotten a feel for the rankings shown on their uniforms: a dark metal bar, carved or hammered with increasing amounts of detail to denote higher rank. Yatsala’s was covered in marks and had some painted with enamel, even a few star-like symbols filled in with silver. This guy - Marani Asava, he introduced himself very formally - had a single line and maybe some leaves on his. It was hard to tell from the angle.
Alex appreciated the attempt, but his lung was being run by the board, so it was mostly wheezy answers that didn’t translate well. He attempted to promise that he would actually look the guy up and have a conversation when he wasn’t being worked on. That might have gotten through. He’d still look him up. That was only appropriate.
He requested they play some music instead. Whatever they thought he should know about. Alex was a little proud of that - he was incredibly bored, but he was hopefully scoring some ‘hearts and minds’ points by asking their opinions. They took turns picking tracks, and boy, did he get some opinions. Half of it was music that was like what Carbon had played back on the Kshlav’o, heavy on the orchestra and vocals that often bordered on ethereal. The other half ran the gamut from a children’s song that everyone was annoyed at but sang along with, something that would fall into the category of shanty-punk, and even a generic pop sounding track that the entire crew but the doctor that chose it groaned audibly at.
By morning, the crew had switched out again and the meds were finally starting to clear out of his system. He had never been this tired, while still not being able to sleep. Alex tried his best, but whether it was the mediboard keeping him up, or the last vestiges of the drugs, or the excitement of being in the last ten percent of this ordeal...
His train of thought was derailed by the unique feeling of something roughly the size of a heart being slipped out the incision on his back. Yes, the feeling was muted, but the fact it made such an impression meant it would have been excruciating otherwise. A few of the morning crew made sounds that said they were not prepared to see something like that on the viewer. But, about five minutes later he had a heartbeat again. Finally, real progress!
The pressure on the open incision reduced as the board retracted a portion of its working limbs, the progress bar continuing to fill as it finished up his lung. Having the machine test it out for him once it was finished was utterly bizarre. The mediboard withdrew the rest of its arms, resealed everything, and dinged quietly to let everyone know he was done.
Yatsala ran scans right then and there while Alex rebooted his systems, a lot of very excited chatter bursting into understandable English as they marveled at the fact that it only took like a day to get that done.
He was glad, really. But he was so tired. They had brought his clothes and he dressed - most of it had been fabricated on board, but the shoes were his own, at least - while Yatsala ran down a bunch of stuff he did not pay any attention to, except for the part where he discharged Alex.
Carbon was waiting in the hall, thrilled to see him again, another rib-crushing hug applied immediately. They had some things to deal with, related to Eleya’s decisions about their marital status.
The trip to the other side of the ship took the shine off things considerably.
“You are like... you are like a child.” Carbon was tired of Alex being tired. Not surprising, considering he was starting to become petulant.
“Well excuse me, princess. I’ve been up for like... Four days. In Tsla’o. That's like a week in real days. No sleep. And they didn't give me another shot of that painkiller that was keeping me up." Alex’s thoughts were poorly ordered, right now.
Carbon exhaled through clenched teeth. "That is four days in your calendar as well. Have you eaten recently?"
"Mmm." Alex walked a few meters in silence, watching the deck plates go by and successfully fighting the urge to fall asleep on his feet for now. "Sorry, what?"
Her ears and antenna flattened as she growled with frustration, "when did you last eat?"
"Oh, I dunno. I had a snack on the flight to Earth, they’ve kept me on IV nutrition since." How long had it been? At least five days since he’d had a meal, maybe creeping towards six now.
She grabbed his arm with an exasperated sigh and diverted them down a side corridor. "You will eat and you will behave yourself."
"That sounds good. Is there anywhere to get a sub around here? I've wanted one since...” It took him a moment to remember where he was. “Oh, no, there wouldn't be. Well, as long as it's real food. You know what I like."
"I do." Carbon gritted her teeth as they came out into a small promenade, fairly crowded despite the early hour on the ship. She kept a hold of his arm, guiding him through the cluster of small shops and gawking aliens.
At the very least, Alex remembered to comport himself with some dignity when in public. As much as he could while being towed behind Carbon, anyway. He double checked his external translator was on and put on a friendly smile - no teeth because the doctors always stared at them and it made him feel weird. A little brief eye contact and a few polite nods of recognition. He was a prince now, even if he was uncomfortable with the idea.
“Stop that.” Carbon hissed at him as she caught a glimpse of him grinning like a demented clown, head bobbing almost uncontrollably.
“I’m just trying to be genial.” He shot back, but stopped as he had been told. He’d have stopped a moment later anyway, as he ducked into a compact restaurant behind her. Alex assumed it to be a restaurant, the air laden with the unmistakable smells of grilled meat and fresh bread.
Carbon stepped up to the bar, a light wood that had been stained a pattern of blues and greens, and rapped on it to get the proprietor's attention. She switched back into Tsla as he turned around. “I need a savory crepe. Do you have deep tea?”
“Of course. Freshly made.” The reddish male eyed Alex warily, picking his words carefully before he looked back to Carbon, his eyes settling on her ear piercing. “Ma’am.”
“Two of those. Sweet.”
He deposited two smooth sided mugs of steaming hot tea in front of them with another long glance at Alex before tapping something into a register, Carbon setting her hand down on a little glossy rectangle on the bar, letting it scan her palm and acting as some kind of payment.
Alex looked down into the cup that almost disappeared into his hand, swirling a few crystals of sugar in the bottom. It felt nice, the ship was kept quite cold. He followed Carbon into a booth in the back, sitting across from her on a bench that was just deep enough to fit his butt. The table Could seat four Tsla’o, or four Humans who were comfortable with each other. “What’s a savory crepe?”
“A savory crepe? I do not know.” She took a long drink, her aggravation abated slightly in the quiet shop.
“That’s what you ordered.” He checked the mug again, still steaming hot.
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“No, I ordered a savory crepe.” There was a little pause mid-sentence as his translator caught up with the word she was using in Tsla. It had been good about catching names of people, but didn’t do so well with names of things.
Alex scalded his tongue on a sip, the heat almost overwhelming the bittersweet flavor of the tea. He swallowed it anyway and winced as it burned down his esophagus, waving his free hand. “Translation problem, fix it later.”
She tipped her head in assent and leaned on the table, nursing her tea, watching the other alien cook. Between the heat of the tea and the sugar in his empty stomach, Alex was almost starting to feel normal again.
“Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to be an ass.”
Carbon shrugged. “You have had a trying time since coming aboard.”
“Yeah, and that’s not an excuse, which is why I’m apologizing.” He wrapped both hands around his mug, the dense ceramic keeping his digits hot. “As you now know I get a little cranky when I’m tired.”
“Cranky?” Carbon’s eyebrows went up as her electric blue eyes glanced over to him.
“Ill-tempered.”
She snorted a little laugh. “Yes, you were.”
“I’m feeling a little uncomfortable on a ship I don’t know, without all my gear. And my wallet’s still missing. Plus, one of the processor clusters from my IT isn’t reporting anymore, and I just got that.” He was going to have to explain the damage to the Navy at some point, and a good lie probably wasn’t going to cut it.
The cook came around the counter, set a rectangular plate on the table and slid it between them, addressing Carbon specifically with a nod of his head and a thin smile. “Anything else, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.” She said, and pushed the plate towards Alex as the proprietor of the shop returned to his work.
Atop the dish was a single cylinder wrapped in crisp white parchment, the alleged crepe an item that warranted a plate specific to it. Alex picked it up, peeling the paper away from it, the flatbread springy under his touch. About the diameter of the mug of tea, and twice as long, pleasantly heavy with whatever was loaded inside. Good size for a burrito, in his opinion. “Alright, so we’ve determined what this isn’t... so what is it?”
“Street food, though somewhat... not anymore.” She gestured at the warmly lit little restaurant, a handful of these little tables along the wall and a few stools at the bar where she ordered. “Flat bread, filled with grilled food livestock, vegetable, root vegetable, vegetable, pickled plant, usually with common sauce.”
Alex narrowed his eyes and sighed, having found where the translator’s dictionary was particularly lacking. “It translated almost everything you said there into the most generic possible terms. The gist of it: meat, vegetables, pickles, sauce?”
Carbon closed her eyes and nodded, sharing in his aggravation. “Yes.”
Alex peeled the paper back further and tried not to think about what he might be biting into, pleasantly surprised to find something very palatable. The thin piece of flat bread had a sharp tang to it, savory meat bits that were not quite beef but definitely not chicken, a bunch of vegetables too finely shredded to give much of an impression, and some spicy pickled... moss. Looked like moss, anyway. Tasted like a hot pickle. He was pretty sure the ‘common sauce’ was that condiment that he’d drank straight out of the bottle back on the Kshlav’o. “You know me so well.”
“You like it?” There was just a little bit of surprise in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s good.” He continued eating, much less trepidation in the next few bites. “Where are we meeting Eleya, anyway? I, uh, wasn’t paying attention earlier.”
“The temple. These are just formalities, but it is traditional to hold them there.” Her voice softened as she spoke, looking at the decorative divider that separated the kitchen from the rest of the small restaurant.
“Formalities?” Alex spoke through a mouthful of food.
“We must select a name, and we must show our station. We will now both wear two gold.” Carbon reached up and touched the silver stud that sat along the top of her ear. She hesitated for a moment. “You do not have to wear them all the time, if you do not want to. Just in public.”
He blanched at that, chewing through a crunchy piece of moss. “I’ve never really thought about getting my ears pierced. Not too big on the idea of having objects stuck in my body. Don’t think the irony of that escapes me.”
She smiled and laughed softly before the weight of whatever she was considering pulled her back down. “If- If you do not wish to go through with this, I believe I could... Acquire a shuttle to take you back to Earth.”
“Steal?” He asked, before taking another bite.
She clicked her tongue at his tactless but accurate rephrasing and sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded him. “No, I have the authority to use a shuttle.”
“I believe you do, but this is a military ship. While I only have experience with the Human Navy, I am very familiar with how much they dislike letting vehicles get up and wander.” He popped the folded up end piece into his mouth, reasonably sure that the Tsla’o military would also dislike someone ‘acquiring’ one of their shuttles, and he was not about to encourage his girlfriend/wife to steal from any military. “Hundred percent sure Eleya is keeping everything that can leave under lock and key while her schemes are unfolding, too, and I barely know her.”
Carbon chewed on the inside of her cheek while she considered that. “I just wish to give you a way out, if you do not want to go through with this.”
“I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary.” He folded up the wrapper as neatly as he could and set it back on the plate.
“Are you sure? I... I am willing to give you up.” She stared at the empty mug in her hands, fiddling with it nervously.
“It’s not necessary. I dunno if this is forward of me or whatever, but I don’t mind the idea of what Eleya did, even if I do mind how she did it.” Alex had ample time to consider this over the last few days, try as he might to keep his mind off everything. “It’s a really short timeline for getting married, at least for a Human. I don’t know how long Tsla’o courtship usually lasts.”
“I- You do not?” She stammered a little bit, somehow surprised at that.
Alex pushed the plate to the edge of the narrow table and reached out, cupping her hands in his. “No, not at all. I love you, I enjoy what our relationship has become, and I’d like that to continue. If that means we get married because your aunt has an insurrection problem, so be it.”
She stared down at their hands, eyes wide, a blush that was visible a kilometer away heating her face. “I would like that too.”
Alex found that unreasonably cute, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “Then it’s settled. We should probably get going, too. Can’t imagine Eleya is big on waiting.”
Carbon’s focus shifted quickly, “yes, of course. We should go.” She slid out of the booth, hurrying out of the restaurant with Alex following close behind. “The temple is not far.”
She was right, it was about a five minute walk. The usual ship corridor changed as they approached it. The gray and red paint gave way to earth tones, the lights dimmed slightly. It gave Alex the impression of being in a timber reinforced tunnel. Carbon gestured at a wide doorway, a wide wooden door that was covered in metalwork waiting.
His eyes took a few moments to adjust as they passed from a wide antechamber to a narrow passage that opened up into a large spherical room, the walls lined with clusters of small candles. A quick glance confirmed that they were artificial, having no flame and being lit from within. A good idea on a space ship.
There was one person waiting for them at a short altar, clearly Eleya even in the low light. Alex couldn’t smell anything other than incense but he didn’t suppose her escort was very far away. As they approached, she turned and seemed happy. She was smiling, but Alex had doubts about how legitimate that was.
“Alex. I am pleased to see you have mended well.” She sounded happy as well as she hugged him, which felt terribly awkward despite how brief it was. She did the same to Carbon, who did not seem to appreciate it.
“Empress. We have come as you have asked.” Carbon extricated herself from her aunt and bowed slightly.
“So you have.” Alex thought he saw Eleya’s eye’s narrow as she turned, but in the dim light it was hard to tell. She gathered two items from the altar and set them in Alex’s hands. “Some things you are missing and a gift to help you in the task that has been set before you.”
Eleya gave him a very particular look before she returned to the altar, opening a small box and beginning to unpack it with practiced motions. Each package she had given him was wrapped in dark red cloth, the first containing his decompression kit, wallet, and an odd, flat silver-grey stick with a rubbery coating. Alex’s missing processor cluster, judging by the neatly clipped wires at one end and the tiny screws that used to hold it to his ribs. He slipped his gear back into the appropriate pockets, folded the cloth back up around the processor and stowed it away before looking at the gift, which was clearly more books from the shape. At least these were normal size.
Having laid out all her equipment, she turned her attention to a folder, flipping it open and readying a pen. “Have you chosen a family name, dear niece?”
Carbon’s reply was instantaneous, the question something she had been expecting. “Sorenson.”
Eleya’s head tilted up slowly to look directly at her, eyes gleaming in the artificial candle light. “I am aware of the young prince’s name. What will your family name be?”
“Sorenson.” They glared at each other, both resolute in their stance.
“There are many very good family names. Historic, classical.”
“It is a common practice among Humans for the female to take the male’s family name. It felt appropriate in this situation, to blend Human and Tsla’o traditions... Unless our motives are not as you have said?”
Eleya’s jaw worked for a moment before she turned back to Alex, who had just been watching them, the still-wrapped books tucked under his arm. “Is this true?”
He nodded. “Yes. It is fairly common.”
“Very well. Sorenson you will be.” Eleya’s lips twisted in disdain but she relented, turning back to the altar and filling out the paper as Carbon smirked at the small victory. “Prince Sorenson. Will you take up the mantle that has been offered to you?”
Alex looked at Carbon, who waved him forward and nodded. He handed her the books and stood behind Eleya. “Yes, I will.”
“Good. Take a knee.”
He did as instructed, kneeling down before her.
Eleya turned to face him, looking him over with cool eyes. She clutched a long, slender needle in one hand, the other reaching down to testing the helix of his ear. She frowned as her fingers probed the thick cartilage, her voice quiet but irritated. “This will be interesting.”