Beyond Varallan by S. L. Viehl Page B

the Jorenians? Are you happy?”
    “I’m satisfied with my position. Happy…” I grimaced. “Who wants to look over their shoulder forever?”
    “Keep your chin up,” she said. “If you need help, remember you still have friends here. Whether you return to Pmoc Quadrant or not.”
    We didn’t say it. We both knew this might be the last time we had direct contact with each other.
    “Thanks, Ana. I’ll try to stay in touch.”
    “Thank you. Tell Dhreen and Alunthri I send my greetings. Oh, and give Jenner a hug for me.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “God bless and safe journey, Cherijo. I will be thinking of you, always.”
    The traditional Jorenian farewell seemed appropriate. “Walk within beauty, Ana.”
    I terminated the relay. Before I turned from the console, a signal from Operational came in. Ndo’s image appeared on the screen, his broad features etched with tension.
    “Alert status,” he said. “Medical, prepare for emergency transition. Assemble medevac teams, report to level eighteen, launch control.”
    A couple of the nurses came over as I acknowledged the signal. “What is it, Ndo?”
    “NessNevat has been attacked by raiders. Make haste.” Ndo’s relay abruptly terminated.
    Getting the patients prepped took time. Residents, nurses, and the Senior Healer appeared in rapid succession. I looked up from Fasala’s suspension cradle. Tonetka seemed worried.
    “We’ve got to get the berth harnesses in place,” I said, sweeping my hand toward the last of the unsecured patients.
    The Omorr resident bumped into me as he bounced by. “Doctor! Didn’t you hear the announcement? We have to hurry and make preparations!”
    “Don’t get your gildrells in a knot, Squilyp.” I felt like smacking him with something hard and heavy. “This is why we have all those endless drills, remember?”
    We managed to strap all the patients in protective harnesses just before the ship’s transitional thrusters fired. I turned to locate a spare harness. Squilyp, who was already strapped in, gave me a derisive glare. What a little paragon of caution he was.
    “See? Nothing to worry about. I bet that had to be a record—” I found myself flat on my face, watching the deck below me ripple and reshape itself. “Forget what I said.” I groaned, and pushed myself up on my elbows as the Sunlace transitioned.
    Through the distortion of reality, the Omorr looked like a big blob of white corkscrews. Corkscrews that were jiggling with laughter.
    “You can get up now, Healer.” Tonetka was too polite to laugh at me, once the transition was over. “Perhaps I will increase the number of drills we perform.”
    “The Doctor could apply some off-duty time to remedial training,” Squilyp said. Always the helpful resident.
    I’d like to apply something flat, wide, and adhesive to his gildrells, I thought. I held my head and stood up carefully. “I'll never complain again. Long as I live.” Which I hoped would be until I was a little old grey-haired genetic construct.
    “Remain still, Cherijo,” the Senior Healer said, and performed a brief scan. She frowned slightly. “Your vitals are registering above normal parameters. Norepinephrine levels are also unusually elevated.”
    “It’s just the sympathoadrenal response, Tonetka.” I straightened my tunic. “Terrans exposed to sudden, unexpected stress generally enter a hypermetabolic state.”
    “As you say, Cherijo.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, but we had other things to do. “Come, we must perform rounds.” To the residents, she said, “Prepare the field packs. Allow enough supplies for possible heavy casualties.”
    The Senior Healer made sure we had enough staffers to cover the ward, then she and I performed quick rounds. Squilyp and another resident sorted what equipment we would need. The supplies were divided among the medevac team. I shouldered my heavy pack with a grimace. The Omorr must have put an extra fifty kilos in