“All right, all right. This is how I see it. If you asked me six months ago what I’d be doing now, I’d have exactly one thing right.” Over the past few days, the routine had fallen into Carbon feeding him and then disappearing for long periods of time. She was giving him regular updates on what she was doing in regards to the engines - some he understood, most of it was technical details outside his area of expertise that sailed right over his head. The Tsla’o looked weary most of the time, so Alex was sure that she wasn’t bullshitting him about what she was up to.

“And what is that?” Carbon held his bag of pea soup out to him, letting him take a long pull from it before he continued.

“I would be in space. That’s the thing I’d be spot on about. But I’d be doing stuff. You know, important stuff. Dipping into a system, finding habitable planets, maybe getting to see some cool astronomical phenomena. Out there, helping Humanity towards its future and all that manifest destiny bullshit they put in the movies.” He took another sip as the little rant he hadn’t expected wound down.

That’s one of the ways they continued selling the Scoutship and Civilian Pilot Programs to the general populace. Just saying you’re finding new planets is nice, but there in remains the fact that most planets are not habitable right off the bat. Even high grade matches usually require a little bit of geoengineering, if not right out terraforming. Plus there’s the matter of actually looping a planet into the currently existing trade and supply lines. That’s more crews, more ships, more maintenance, and more bases to supply all of those. A greater distance to stretch the currently available Navy coverage. It would take years, at best, before a single grade-1 planet could even be flagged for anything but research.

Finding all of this out had tempered Alex’s enthusiasm quite a bit, but he had already been in training when it all clicked for him. Now, considering the fact that the Tsla’o were looking at a brutally slow extinction and this was the help the Confed offered, it was making his views of the Program somewhat bitter. “I’d be doing something other than sitting here eyeball-deep in medigel.”

“You are recuperating from remarkably severe injuries.” She said it like hearing it out loud would make him feel better. It might have. A little bit.

“I shouldn’t even have injuries. I should have flown better.” Alex clenched his jaw and exhaled through his teeth. “I shouldn’t have screwed up.”

Carbon sighed and closed her eyes, leaving their food floating there as she massaged her temples. This might have come up a few times before. “There was nothing you could have done better. That is not an empty statement to make you feel better, it is the truth of what happened. By your own admission, you cannot conceive of specific things you could have done differently to improve the outcome. See that, and see that you will be fully repaired in a matter of weeks.”

Ugh. She was right, and using his own words against him. UGH. “But I can’t do anything now.”

“Would you feel better if I shut the mediboard off?” Carbon studied him as she sipped her lunch bag, clearly annoyed, her antennae and eyebrows pulled low. “Then you can assist me in engineering by bleeding on everything.”

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“No.” He rolled his eyes. “That would be stupid.”

“That is the alternative in this situation.” She gave him a pointed look as she finished whatever she had been eating. “Do not be so prideful that you deny yourself time to heal, particularly after such an unusual encounter.”

She, again, had a point once he actually slowed down to consider the events of the last week. They had faced down two full Eohm fleets at once, and come away with just one casualty. Nothing short of exceptional for a ship as small as the Kshlav’o. “Still. I want to be able to do something and I can’t. All I can do is lay here.”

“Healing is something.” Carbon had told him that at least once per day for the last few days. She’d done a fantastic job at not sounding annoyed despite how often that was.

“Yeah. It is.” He pursed his lips and sighed. He’d been sitting on this question for a day and a half now, though the first inkling of it arose when he was staring at the ceiling waiting for anything to happen. “Do you think you could make this thing put me under- I mean, like a medical coma, for a week or two? Just until I’ve got more of my body back? Don’t get me wrong, I-”

“I do not think that would be a good idea.” Carbon recoiled at his question, setting herself spinning away gently until she steadied herself with the wall.

“Yeah?” He gave her a sideways look, the only kind he could manage at the time. He’d have still done it even if he had his entire body back at his disposal, though. The Shipmaster had never cut him off when speaking before, even when she was thoroughly annoyed by whatever he was saying. The level of control she normally exerted over herself when speaking was nothing short of herculean in his experience. Better to tread carefully. “Why’s that?”

“You would starve.” She spat the answer out quickly, like someone who was hiding her actual motivation and had considered that question might come up.

He was quite sure they had a feeding tube somewhere, or Carbon could fabricate one. It was just a tube, after all. Alex also wasn’t stupid, and while he didn’t understand why she didn’t like it, he would let it go. He laughed and smiled. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that.”

Carbon’s mouth twitched up into an uneasy sort of smile with a brief flash of small, sharp teeth. It was gone just as quickly, tamped down with the composure she normally wore. “Given all that has happened, it is understandable.”

Silence filled the small medical bay, the constant hum of the life support system the only thing to fill it. A heartbeat slipped by, then a moment, and a minute after that.

Carbon cleared her throat and held up his packet of soup. “Do you want any more of this? I should return to my work.”

“Eh, nah. The ham is...” Alex stopped mid sentence. She wouldn’t have any point of reference for how the ham was supposed to be, no point in going down that road. “It’s not good. No, thank you.”

“Very well. I will return for dinner.” Carbon thumbed the door controls, the pair of heavy door shutters sliding into the wall behind her.

“Wait a second.”

“Yes?” She turned around and gave him a curious look. She actually wanted to hear what he had to say?

“Uh...” Alex really did want to know what problem she had with putting him under actually was. If the circumstances were different - say, if he wasn’t wholly reliant on her - he’d be more comfortable asking directly. If she took offense to that, well he was sure she wouldn’t let him starve. Mostly. This felt like a bad idea now. “I was going to ask you something but it just slipped my mind. Sorry.”

“Very well.” The curious look stayed put as she turned back towards the hall. “Perhaps you will remember it later.”