(no subject)

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

There is a sound of motors echoing down the stairway. Naraht soon appears riding his crawler. Those who are familiar with the Horta's contraption might notice that his driving isn't quite as smooth as it usually is. They might also notice that his skin looks different. Rather like he's been given a light coat of dust.

And Naraht feels as bad (possibly worse) than he looks. Failing to find Ray upstairs, he has come down to see if he can find any help.

He has a sinking suspicion that he's going to need it.

Comments

[nita_callahan]

She flips through her manual and finds the section on the Horta -- no time to read it all now. The basic anatomical scheme is what she needs.

She lays a hand against -- him, for all she knows -- and closes her eyes, starting to speak. The Speech sounds, to listeners, like their native tongue, and at the same time something much different.

It's hard to tell what's going on, thanks to her unfamiliarity with the life-form, but she notes a few things that feel wrong, and pulls back.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Well, technically Naraht is an "it" since he's neuter at this point in his life cycle, but given the fact that, in English, refering to a sentient being with a genderless pronoun is considered rude...

Naraht's fringe quivers from his suppressed anxiety. "Did you find anything?"

[nita_callahan]

"Maybe. . ." She brushes some hair back from her face, a little winded, as she references something in her manual.

"Your temperature -- your core temperature -- is below normal." She double-checks. "A fair amount below normal. And there's something -- I'm not exactly sure, but your digestive system is -- lacking something, maybe?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"I've noticed the tempeature drop," Naraht says. "It was then that I realized that something was definately wrong. We don't do that unless we are either fighting infection or in extereme environments. As for my digestion...my stomachs feel like they are trying to turn inside out."

[gone_byebye]

Ray hovers anxiously, watching the proceedings and hoping like hell that something conclusive can be achieved. Other than that, he doesn't say anything.

[nita_callahan]

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I can't diagnose anything right now. Give me a day or two to do some research -- do you think you'll be all right that long?" She gives Naraht a worried look. "I don't want to try and heal you without knowing what I'm doing."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"I understand, ma'am," he says. "As for how long...I really don't know. I'm unfamiliar with this disease. And there aren't many diseases that my kind can catch in the first place. As a result, those we do catch..." He shivers as he remembers some stories he heard from the Andalusian crewmembers. "...silicon-based pathogens have a high mortality rate."

[nita_callahan]

She pales a little. "I'll work as fast as I can. I don't think I caught your name, though. . .?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Naraht," he says wearily. "Dahai Iohor Naraht. And, I believe I'll be placed in isolation soon, so you may wish to coordinate with Security."

[gone_byebye]

Ray exhales. "I'm so sorry about this, Naraht. I had no idea you could even- I wouldn't have asked you to come if- I'm so sorry..."

[nita_callahan]

Nita nods. "I'll talk to them, then. Hang in there. I'm in room 63, if you need me."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Ray, you loveable idiot," he snaps. Well, it would be a snap if he had the energy. "Don't you think we face that risk every time we beam down to a new planet? The Biofilters on the transporters aren't perfect. And they can miss new things sometimes. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault."