jeriendhal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jeriendhal) wrote2009-09-25 06:59 pm
jeriendhal) wrote2009-09-25 06:59 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Altered Trajectory, cont.
“All right, what the devil happened?” Rufus demanded, as the ship's doctor pulled up the scanner that had been clamped around his forehead or the past fifteen minutes. Hazel sat perched on a stool in a corner of the med bay, watching as he had been poked and prodded for the past hour.
It had been a much closer call than Rufus liked to admit. Once he'd gotten his helmet off it had taken him several terrifying seconds to clear his nose and throat to be able to breathe again. Flamer had then brought them back aboard the Falcon Claw with all due haste, and he'd been escorted straight to the medical bay for a quick examination. Only in the past ten minutes had his stomach finally started cooperating and settled down.
The doctor started explaining again. “As I said, Mr. Brushtail. The initial problem was simply a case of Space Adaptation Syndrome. Your mind could not reconcile the view out your cockpit window with what the sensors in your vestibular passages were telling you and you...”
“I can’t get Space Adaptation Syndrome any more than you can. I’m a Vulpine, not some pink-skinned human schoolchild taking his first shuttle ride!”
The doctor took a deep breath and began again. “With respect, yes you can. You are aware that you suffered several strokes in the past year, correct?”
“Yes,” Rufus admitted, a sinking feeling in his stomach growing, pushing aside his initial anger and fear.
“Well, going by the initial data provided by your brain scan, it appears your brain did suffer some significant, though not life threatening, damage. Your memory and cognitive abilities appear unaffected, but you have suffered measurable loss in the sections of your brain devoted to manual dexterity and motion tracking.”
“You mean I'm... brain damaged?”
The doctor held up his paws in what Rufus supposed was to be a calming matter. “In the most technical sense of the word only. The damage you suffered is serious enough, but has not affected you to the point...”
“Can I fly?” Rufus interrupted.
“It's much too early to make such recommendations. Obviously I'm going to request to the Captain that you be restricted for a short period while we evaluate...”
“Just answer the damned question! Can I fly!”
The doctor grimaced and shook his head. “No. At this time you are a danger to both yourself and any fellow crewfolk who would be with you in the cockpit.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rufus growled. He stood up and pulled off the paper patient's gown he'd been wearing and slipped his pants and tunic back on.
“Ru, come on, it's only temporary...” Hazel started to say.
“Of course. Nothing to worry about. Just need to get a new brain that's all,” he snapped, brushing past her and the doctor and stalking down the passageway to his quarters.
"RUFUS!"
TBC
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