A Missouri Gambler On a Steamboat Down the River Styx...

Posted on Tue Feb 12th, 2019 @ 11:10pm by Emergency Medical Hologram (Adam Power) Mk X & Death & Lieutenant Samuel Clemens XV & Lieutenant Asa Dael

Mission: Earthly Visitation
Location: Somewhere near the computer core of the USS Hera/USS Hera Sickbay/Limbo
Timeline: During the Deific Incursion/Before the Worldship Collapse/Outside of SpaceTime

He was so busy calling the little popinjay names that he didn't see the flare of energy run out the blade of Trelane's sword, as he executed a successful parry against the effete intruder.

Successful, of course, only if the cheating could be ignored.

But having a steel blade turn into a lightsaber wasn't exactly an above board response during a duel, and as the blade disintegrated a thin line of his own sword, the Chief Gambler of the USS Hera became even more highly-annoyed with the foppish interloper- so much so, in fact, that he didn't notice the follow-through as it also severed his upper arm, then carried on through his ribcage, gliding in a downward arc through his lower spine and hip, neatly missing the opposite inner thigh, as it amputated the leg below, on the outward path.

Thus, Clemens was quite mystified to see the room tilt sideways, as he bounced off his hip, watching his arm fall to the deck nearby.

"You filthy cheatin' miscreant! A Ferengi woulda done me less dirty'n y'all just did! GIT YER ASS OFF'N MAH SHIP!!!" he roared at the formerly-leering prat, who was busy looking horrified at the mess he'd just made, what with all the gore and viscera laying about.

In a fluster of cluckery, the infantile godling flapped his hands around, making the horrid scene go away, as he discovered the Spook's blood on his own paisley. The various body parts vanished, as well as the spatter, and the remaining vital fluids stopped blasting from the Spymaster's form.

In a fiery ginger rage, Sam was sitting up, clawing his way up the nearby console, his great moustache moving like some terrible bellows, advancing inexorably toward Trelane, who backpedaled out of sheer bewilderment at the mortal's level of anger.

"Y-you can't just..."

"YOU. CHEATED." He'd grabbed a chair, and was using it like some unholy crutch to close the gap, pale as Jacob Marley, the sheer indignance pouring off him in waves of psychic miasma.

"Yer BANNED from th' table, y'snake! Git out!" His voice was weaker, now, but colder, like a professor explaining to a plagarist where he went wrong.

Trelane nearly tripped, as he felt the bulkhead behind him. "I'm sorry...I..."

With the light in his eyes fading slowly, Clemens stared at Trelane, disgust dripping from his countenance.

The immortal looked away, and wasn't there.

A moment later, a paper business card fluttered down from the air, to land on the still, prone form of the ship's Chief Intelligence Officer, where his hand rested on the intercom control.

"Terribly sorry. I do hope you get a leg up, old chap.

-T, Sq. Gothos"

As the USS Hera continued away from the disolving worldship, Lieutenant JG Doctor Asa Dael was walking through Sickbay, personally checking on each recovering crew member. The EMH had done excellent work in their absence, but the doctor still liked to check on each person themself. Coming to the biobed of Lieutenant Clemens, they paused in shock.

Sensing the EMH over their shoulder, Asa inquired, "It was a close one, huh? You did great work saving him. Have we arranged prosthetics yet?"

"Thank you." The EMH was looking at the charts for Mr Clemens as he spoke. "Yeah, they should be ready in a few days. I'll need your help with the grafts though. The last time it was done on this ship, it wasn't the most clean process and I'd like to make sure there's no feedback noise or issues."

"Of course, I am at available at your convenience. Has he woken up yet? For a man of his athleticism and physicality, I am concerned about his mental state."

"Not yet, but he should be soon if luck holds," replied the EMH.

"I think I will wait here then, I want him to have a friendly face waiting. It's the least he deserves, don't you think? Unless we have someone requiring more urgent attention.....?" Dael trailed off.

"Well... When I check on von Alcott..." the EMH began. He wasn't sure if he was experiencing a glitch or if one of those spirits had tagged along. "I've caught a glimpse of a young lady dressed all in black at the foot of her bed out of the corner of my senses. Sensors don't register anyone and I'm not experiencing any issues..."

After a moment of thought, Asa's eyes lit up with understanding, "Oh, that's just Death. She hitched a ride with us on the worldship and Schwein helped save her. I imagine she is just checking on her friend, unless the baroness condition has changed greatly? Try saying hi, I know its weird for a doctor to say, but she is an OK lady, I promise. Even if she does sometimes go invisible.".

The EMH just stared at Asa like the world had just gone mad and he was the only sane one left. "Right... Well, von Alcott should be up and about tomorrow, either way."

Clapping his shoulder gently as they walked to sit by Clemens bedside, Asa smiled and said, "Good to hear. Do you need some down time? I'll be here for a few hours at least. When were you last off duty?"

"My program has been running constantly for almost seven weeks now..." The holographic doctor looked concerned over this fact. "Why? Do you think I might be experiencing a failure of some sort?"

"No, not at all. It's just everyone else gets to rest, you should too. I'm sure you have non work things you wish to do. That reminds me, my old quarters are still empty. Would you like me to ask Commander Paris to assign them to you? Give you a place of your own..."

"My own quarters? I don't really see a need for that... I would like to have some off time so my program can rest and compile, but that's about it. I don't exactly need quarters... Do I?" The EMH looked at Asa like he was unsure of himself now.

"Not if you don't want them, just a thought. Why not go grab some rest? I will be here. Take your time, you have earned it. I just want you to be happy and fulfilled, so let me know what you need, ok?"

"Thank you, I... I'll give it some thought. Computer... Deactivate EMH." With a shimmer, the EMH deactivated himself, the PaDD he was holding dropping to the floor.

After picking up the PaDD, Asa drew a chair and tucked their feet under themself, sitting comfortably for the wait for the lieutenant to wake.

{...somewhere else entirely}

A loud set of sounds roused Sam from his dreamless slumber- the sounds of merriment, conversation, a steady chug-chug-chug, reverberating through the decking, and what sounded for all the world like a calliope, of all things.

He raised himself up on one elbow, and ran his other hand through the unruly shock of his hair, as he yawned, and in one fluid motion, swung his legs around and off his bunk, sitting up, squinting a bit at the golden sunlight streaming through the Westside porthole. He took a good long stretch, and stood, his longjohns a reminder that he needed to do some washboarding soon, lest he run out of work clothes- again.

He ambled over to the port, peering out at the West bank as it rolled by lazily, noting that they were nearly to Memphis, which would explain the steam organ playing. A sharp idea, playing as they approached ports, to entice out locals interested in the Belle Hera's various wares, from dancing, to games of chance, to fried and baked goods with exotic recipes, from all up and down the Mighty Missisip'.

He craned his neck to see the depth marks, noting that they rode high on a rain current this evening.

He smiled. It was good to be a riverboat crewman.

{In Sickbay}

Clemens smiled in his sleep, his vitals dropping imperceptibly...

Doctor Dael was curled up asleep in the chair near Clemens. They had expected him to wake by now, and had the best of intentions to be awake when he did. Long hours of reading and filing reports on a PaDD near Clemens bedside had caught up with Asa, who now slept with mouth slightly agape and snoring softly until the beep from the biobed woke them up.

Staring blearily at the display, it took Asa a few long moments to understand what was happening. The Lieutenant’s blood pressure had dropped slightly, and his heart rate and temperature were ever so slightly decreasing as well.

“Well, that’s usually not a great sign,” Asa said to themself. They started an IV to increase fluid intake and confirmed the plasma being fed into Clemen’s body was still operational, increasing output by 10%. After a brief moment to ensure all was operating as it should be, Asa went to the nearest replicator to grab a cup of coffee and settle in to hold vigil.

{On the River, after about three days}

Having finished up the day's shift, Sam got scrubbed down, and changed clothes. So far, the townspeople had been having a great time, and were definitely bringing not only their skills to the tables, but their hard-earned pay, as well. Most of them were losing a little, but overall enjoying their time aboard, on this late Spring night.

Sam strolled out on the deck, in his finery, grinning around his stogie. He was looking for a just the right table. He soon spotted the exact mix he was seeking- jolly, boozed-up buddies, trying to out-do one another. He discreetly winked at the hostess working the area, and she went to draw some more drafts for the table.

"Y'all look like yer havin' a good night, fellas. Mind if ah cut in?"

{In Sickbay, about three hours later}

Clemens' vitals had continued to drop, albeit slowly. There was a profound degree of increase in cortical activity, however, with a cycle that repeated about once an hour, with some minor variations.

The EMH and Doctor Asa Dael were watching Clemen’s vitals as a decrease in body temperature and blood pressure corresponded to another cortical spike. Frowning at the screen, Asa looked through several case studies that showed similarities.

“Well, it’s not a perfect match, but this almost looks like he’s conscious during anesthesia like it used to be done in 21st Century Earth. He’s clearly aware of something, although what I have no way of saying. I would normally never suggest an injection to force a recovering body with this degree of damage into consciousness, but I really don’t see too many alternatives right now. What do you think, Doctor?” Asa inquired of their colleague.

"I believe there may be a slightly closer precedent, actually," replied the EMH, setting aside his PaDD. "In many spiritual tribes across many cultures, when a person goes through a transformation and faces their death, they are often said to go on a spirit quest. Most doctors brush it off as inconclusive, but with the strangeness we've seen aboard this vessel... I would not rule it out that Mister Clemens is experiencing some sort of spiritual... Dream based journey. If so, the question then becomes if and how we might be able to assist him from here."

“What we need,” Asa said, “Is a way to bridge a telepathic link with him to guide him back to his body. I don’t know if a mind meld would be beneficial as it would likely be jarring to his psyche. What other member of the crew has the requisite telepathic abilities? If all else fails, I can ask Triton.”


Asa was scrolling through a crew manifest on a PaDD looking for psi rankings, but asked their colleague with encyclopedic knowledge in hopes of speeding up the process. If someone could bridge Asa to Clemens, the doctor would gladly wade into the brave man’s mind.

After a moment of consideration, Dael looked up at the Doctor. “Wait, if this is like a spirit journey, what did the shamans of the cultures that believed in such things recommend to anchor someone to their body, or to the land of the living?”

"Well it depended on the culture, but they usually prayed to the gods and made offerings of incense, food, or other valuable items," replied the holographic physician.

“Gods. Huh. Not sure that would really apply for Mr. Clemens here, but perhaps Death could help?”

Looking over to the corner of Sickbay where Death was known to lurk, Dael saw a familiar figure with pale skin in a long black dress. Knowing not everyone could see her, Asa made sure their smile was 10000-watt and welcoming. After all, if not everyone can greet a person, the greetings they do receive should make up for that fact.


“Hello there, how are you feeling?” Asa asked Death, wanting to make sure she was not suffering any ill effects from her recent separation from Baroness von Alcott.

The pale woman stepped out of a shadowed corner of sickbay and approached the foot of the bed, one finger to her lips. "Shh... Don't let the guards outside my room know I'm not where they think I am. I'm just here on business." She then flashed her own bright smile in reply. "But yes, I'm doing well, thank you."

The EMH was slightly taken aback by the new arrival. "I'm not sure who you are, young miss, but whatever business you have with Mister Clemens will have to wait. He's currently in no condition for visitors."

"Ah, so you can see me." The woman known as Death smiled up at the EMH in a friendly manner and extended one hand. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm the entity known as Death."

Without thinking, the holographic Doctor shook her hand before it hit him what she had said. "So... Death is a young Japanese girl wearing a..." Here he had to squint and search through his databases for a few moments to make sure he got the information right. "It looks like an 8th or 9th century Kyushu kimono."

Death's eyes widened in shock. "I haven't heard of anyone seeing me that way before. You are very rare indeed..." Keeping an eye on the EMH, she turned back to Samuel Clemens and gingerly placed her fingertips on the foot of his bed.

"What can you tell us?" Dael inquired of Death.

The pale woman took a moment before replying. "He seems to be on a vision quest and slowly slipping closer to my domain. If he is not provided with a means to find his way, he may be lost."

{At the table}

As Sam hauled the kitty to his side, he blew out the cigar smoke he'd been enjoying. His grin faltered a moment, as the cloud swirled itself into a face which bore a concerned look. He'd never seen her, before, and it faded before he could make much out.

It left him disturbed, as he shuffled the deck for the next round.

{Sickbay}

The monitors above Clemens' biobed twitched upward fractionally.

Looking at the display, Asa asked Death, "Can you get a message to him?"

"I'm working on it, but it would be best if it were someone whose energies were based in life rather than death," the literal incarnation of Death replied with a grin.


Rolling their eyes at their own error, Asa thumped their forehead with the palm of their hand in the universal "duh" gesture.

"Yeah, should have thought of that, eh? Ok, tell me what I need to do. This is all new stuff to me, and I am yet to find a manual."

Death grinned and pulled Asa where they were standing, guiding them to place their fingertips where hers were. "just rest your fingertips here and picture a slow flow of energy or light reaching out and guiding them like a stream from here." When she said 'here' she tapped Asa's sternum. "Here, feel your inner strength and energy like a great ball of life and light. Like a beacon. But don't overextend yourself."


"Yeah never been guilty of that before," Asa muttered with a wry grin.

Then the Doctor placed the fingertips of their left hand on Clemens temple. They thought of the swirls of energies Hera had shown them swirling through the universe and imagines the same whirlwind in Sickbay. Life was pouring through Asa, vibrant and pulsing. As they opened their eyes, Asa drew a quick breath, amazed at the light suffusing the room. The EMH had a bluish green halo around his form, and it seemed to move a fraction of a second before the Doctor shifted to look at them. The bacteria samples in stasis from a recent experiment glowed a mute yellow, and pure white light issued from Asa's on hand. Looking down to Clemens, Asa saw a softer white glow flowing out of him towards the one spot of darkness in the room, a black hole in the shape of Death.

Steeling their mind for what was to come, Asa pictured a tether of light, anchored deep in the core of their physical being. Pulling out the energy, bit by bit, Asa transferred the light into the resting mind of Clemens.

After closing their eyes to concentrate, Asa said softly, "Come on you old rascal. Dont give up on me now."

{Aboard the Belle Hera, some four months since the disturbance}

Sam finished up with greasing the anchor chain assembly, and wiped his hands, as he headed below, out of the blowing sleet of the upper deck.

Once he hung up his peacoat in the mess, he poured himself a strong coffee, savoring the smell of the potent brew, as it warmed his hands. The days and nights were getting colder, as Fall encroached upon the Twin Cities.

Despite this, the ship still had a full gaming deck, and it was his most ferverent intention to create a spirit of challenge up there, tonight, once he got cleaned up and dressed.

As he stepped out of the steam-heated shower (a notion he'd developed out of sheer cussed frustration with the many and varied foibles of trying to properly bathe in a tub while subject to river current), he made his way to the lavatory with his shaving kit.

The mirror, as expected, was thoroughly fogged, so he wiped it down, and settled into whipping up some lather. He patted it into place, and raised his straightedge, looking at his reflection, and began his ministrations, enjoying the smooth glide of the blade, as it flowed up the curve of his face.

He lowered the blade to empty it, glancing at the bowl as he tapped it under the water, and looked back up.

The face that gazed back was not his own.

He stared back at the impossibly-clean-shaven young face in the frame, seeing beyond the child another face, in the background. It was the young woman from the cloud.

He closed his eyes, and shook his head, muttering about too much whiskey, when a voice to the side, behind him, spoke.

"Son- y'might oughta pay attenshun to them. Ah didn't change muh ways jus' so's you could kick th'bucket on me a few hunnerd-odd yea'hs latuh..."

Sam whirled around, to find a man with a striking resemblance to his grandfather (great-great-great-great-great the back of his mind gibbered) standing there, dressed in white, smoking a stogie, dressed in better finery than Sam had ever been able to afford.

Before Sam could craft a reply, the old man waved his hand impatiently at the mirror, adding, "Lookit! They're tryin' t'talk to ya!"

So stunned was he, that Sam looked as directed, back at the mirror, where the scene was clearing to reveal that the youngster was wearing some sort of uniform, and the beautiful woman behind her was wearing a hooded cloak. The uniformed one was speaking, but the words were unclear.

Sam looked back to the old man just in time to see his eyes twinkle, as he tipped his hat, and patted his chest. Instantly, the man disappeared from view, as though a door had swiftly closed on him, with a swooshing sound.

Suddenly, he could hear a voice from the mirror clearly...

"...don't give up on me, now..."

{In Sickbay}

The Spookmaster General's vitals jumped by 20%.

Gasping with effort, Asa opened one eye at a beep from the biodbed’s display. Things were finally starting to turn around, but Clemens was not out of the woods yet.

“Um, about that whole over-extending myself thing? Might be closing in on that threshold...,” then turning to address the room as a whole, Asa said, “Can someone corporeal please join me? Preferably human? Not trying to be speciest here folks, just doing a life force infusion, and I’d rather use same type please…”

Aside from the EMH, Death, Dael, and Clemens the current occupants of Sickbay included one Kasheeta, one Catullan, and one lone human. The human male appeared to be fresh out of the Academy, and Asa reflected remembering his name- Ensign John Carrott- a name that fit the shocking amount of red hair sticking up from his head and freckles that almost doubled as a tan. The ensign had just been assigned to the Hera a mere two months ago, and was fresh out of the academy. Asa had not had oppoertunity to work with him much as they appeared to be on opposing shifts mainly, but he had seemed like a good bloke.

The moment Carrott realized he was the only person who fit the proverbial bill, his face paled and a look of fear overtook his face. The ensign likely could not see Death, nor could he see the energies whizzing throughout the room, but he had enough sense to know that he was a bit out of his depth.

Sensing the ensigns trepidation, Asa said softly, “Hey John, it’s ok. I’m not going to let you get hurt, ok? Our brave Lieutenant Clemens here is just a bit lost in his head, so I need some help anchoring him so he can find his way home. The Doctor will be monitoring us both and will speak up if things are going too far. My orders, I promise.”

Carrott seemed to steele his face for a moment before he began walking over to Dael’s now outstretched hand. Taking it firmly in his own, he simply said, “Aye, Lieutenant. Whatever you need.”

Asa felt a rush of pride at the young man- freely offering of his own energies and trusting to the Doctor’s new skill. They were determined to not let either Clemens or Carrott down, and gave the man’s hand a squeeze before continuing.

In their mind, Asa pictured joining their energies to Carrott’s and Clemens, forming a bridge for humanity to flow through, to call out to, to anchor in reality. It felt not entirely dissimilar from conducting an orchestra while standing on one foot and humming a different tune, but having Carrott to lean on propped the doctor up metaphysically. They felt their own energies surge forth again, calling to Clemens with two minds. The fear Carrott was feeling also flowed through, so Asa pictured a mental image of light and bravery, a mental image of how brave they considered Carrott to be in this moment, an image of a Starfleet Officer standing against the dark to save another and mentally sent it over through their bond to both Clemens and Carrott. Asa knew precious little about what they were doing and hoped the two men perceived what they were doing.

Then, sensing the fear from Carrott begin to ebb, Asa pictured a rope of energy flowing into Clemens mind- a lifeline to find their way home. Mentally, Asa pictured themself with one hand joined to Clemens, one to Carrott, firmly anchored in Sickbay, in the present.

“That’s where you are, ok? No need to go on a vision quest, your purpose is here Clemens. I stand in the gap, between where your mind has strayed and where it must return. Feel the lifeline of my energy, I give you a rope, but you gotta climb back home. I know you can do it, you are too stubborn not to. Carrott here shared with you his humanity, his sameness to you. Feel who he is, feel how he is anchored to me as well, to where we are, to this moment. Use my energy, join it with your own, and come back to us. You are needed here, sir. This boat just ain’t the same without you.”

The pale embodiment of Death grinned and nodded. "You're doing very well. Keep it up."

{In the head of the Belle Hera}

The Gambling Gentleman peered at the apparitions in his looking glass, as the kid told him about the other kid in the background. They were in a room of strange design, wearing what amounted to bedclothes, though smartly-tailored.

He knew that something was out of whack, obviously. This wasn't some Lewis Carroll tale where magic mirrors were real. Logically, that meant that either he was sick...or already quite far around the bend.

...and then there was his (great-great-great-great-to-the-nth-degree-hee, hee!) grandfather's appearance a few minutes ago.

He decided that if they were going to be carrying him off his boat (this boat, the kid had said...another one??), he was triple-damned if he was gonna be buck-nekkid and half shaven when it happened. He set about finishing his shave, and talking with the odd folks in Wonderland.

"Y'all sure do dress funny over there. Ma'h 'pologies, but ah missed yuh name, son. If'n I'm gonna climb through to see the Red Queen, Ah'll need ta be dressed proper." He continued shaving with his straight razor as he talked, able after all these years to go by the feel of his face as to whether he was getting it close enough.

Asa felt a slight tug at the rope of energy anchored into Clemens, but then a pause. Opening one eye, they saw the Lieutenant’s vitals were stable, but still not improving. Looking to Death and the EMH, to doctor said, “I don’t know what else we can do here. If I feed any more energy into him, I’m going to fizzle- I can feel how stretched out I am, and I don’t think Hera has the energy supplies to help me a second time. What do I do?”

{On the Belle Hera, several hours later...}

Sam was tired of staring at the painting that had once been the looking glass for the ship's head.

The young person (he still had yet to discern whether girl or boy, or maybe fae?) had turned their head away, and the entire glass had become still, like a becalmed sea. He had waited, but decided to finish getting dressed, since his earlier resolution was unchanged- he was going nowhere without looking proper.

But this was an odd occurrence within an odd occurrence, and he finally resolved to break whatever stalemate had erupted. Fever dream, poisoning, unhinging, or giggling gods be damned, he had a life to get on with.

Not knowing what he might have to deal with in Wonder/Never/Newfound-Land, he'd taken the time to pack a few items in his satchel, hang his service blade and scabbard off one hip, and his revolver off the other. He'd thought of wearing his usual finery, but had decided upon a more robust wardrobe: his newly-purchased coveralls, delivered just a day ago to him at the Minneapolis Postal Office, fresh from the Sears and Roebuck Company. These featured a removable insulated lining, which, considering the time of year, he had elected to leave snapped-in. The pockets, he'd filled with some hard tack, biscuits, and a couple of flasks of brandy (one never knows where one may end up, on such an adventure). His timepiece, freshly-wound, was in its proper pocket.

He was ready to explore this strange, new world.

Stepping forward, he grasped the frame of the mirror, and confidently stepped through.

{In sickbay, some thirty seconds after Asa's question was posed...}

Clemens' vitals began rising, steadily, alpha waves cycling through hundreds of permutations within seconds, before settling down.

There was an enormous clatter in the corner, as multiple items appeared in the air, then fell to the deck.

Coveralls, a pocket watch, a satchel, a scabbarded sword, boots, and a Colt .45 Revolver, all clattered into a pile.

From the biobed, a grumpy voice was heard, as the Spooky Action At Close Proximity pushed himself up on his left arm...

"What's with all th'noise, folks? A man's tryin' t'recovuh from suhgery, in heah..."

Looking in confusion at the items that materialized from nowhere, Asa released Carrott’s hand and slowly ceased pouring energy into Clemens. Once it was clear the man was going to remain conscious, they turned to him and surprised him with a huge hug.

“Don’t do that you old scoundrel! We almost lost you to some fool vision quest. Don’t you know there is universe here enough to explore! I…I don’t suppose you have any idea why things materialize when you wake up? Because I gotta say sir, that is not a symptom covered in any classical textbooks.”

Without waiting for a response, Asa pulled up a chair and sat down heavily, exhausted by their efforts of feeding energy into Clemens. Looking to Death and the EMH the doctor said, “We in the clear folks?”

The pale woman smiled softly. "I have no further reason to be here."

The EMH just looked up from his tricorder flabbergasted. "None of these readings make any sense..."

"Thank you, friend," Asa said softly, with a friendly smile towards Death.

"Well, Doctor, much of life doesn't make sense, but let's just be glad it's in our favor this time, eh? How do you feel Lieutenant?"

The Ginger Gambler yawned, and worked his jaw, then reached to feel the skin there, with his new right arm, by sheer reflex.

"Well, ah'm impressed with whoevuh shaved me- m'face hasn't been this smooth since th'last time ah visited Kansas Citeh an' had mah granpa's bahbuh give me a straight razuh job. Who knew we had a striped pole heah on thuh Hera?"

Suddenly, he stopped, and stared at his right arm, then down at his legs.

"Did we hafta chicken out, Asa? These can't be cybuhnetic- ah've not had time t'larn 'em, yet."

He saw the girl in the cloak, then, and noted, "Ah don't b'lieve ah've had thuh pleasuh, madam. Name's Clemens, Samuel El."

She smiled and nodded to him politely. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm..." Death glanced at Asa, then back at Clemens. It seemed one more person aboard the Hera could see her so she might as well come clean on who she was. "I'm Death. You almost died. That's why I'm here. Now if you'll excuse me..." With a bright smile and a polite wave, the pale woman, headed out of sickbay as silently as she had entered.

“Chicken out my lilly white rear end, sir. Those are cybernetic…you just decided to learn how to use them on a vision quest it would seem. Congratulations, you have weaseled out of three weeks of physical therapy, Lieutenant. So, how does it feel having cheated both Death and Life of their usual due? Hungry work?” A twinkle shown in Asa’s eye as they asked after how their patient was feeling. The relief at having snatched him back from the breach was giving way to a mild form of mania, as it usually did, a mania Asa used to further care for their patients by ensuring all their needs were met- both physical, emotional, and in this case, humor.

Clemens stared at the...well, Death Girl, as she left. Then he stared at his hand....his toes...and then at Asa, obviously playing her later words back in his head to formulate a response.

"Well, um...yeah- ah'm pretty fahmish'd, actshully." He was looking at his other arm, which had sterile areas marked, as well as the left leg, which had similar marks. "Ah see y'all wuh able tuh do thuh secundareh load balance implants, too? That's pretty nifteh, Docs."

"T'ansuh yuh othuh question, she didn't seem ta act like she'd been cheated, which ah s'pose is a good thing. Ah nevuh imagined Death would have such a gawjus smile, tho." He looked thoughtful.