Blood Impulse

Part 14.3 - BAD DAY

Homebound Sector, Haven System, Battleship Singularity

Ensign Alba was having a bad day. It climaxed when he woke up with the commander of the ship's Marine contingent looking down at him. "Alba, you shouldn't be sleeping 'ere."

All Alba could do was groan as he reached up to his aching head. A bump the size of a rock was growing on it. "What happened?"

Lieutenant Colonel Pflum pulled the engineer to his feet with an exasperated sigh, "That's what you're supposed to be telling us, mate."

On his feet, Alba's world was put back in clearer perspective. Yes, here, right here in this plain and empty corridor, the Sergeant had turned on him. No, wait. They'd bumped into someone else. A stranger. The inspector. "Code Blue," Alba said, tapping Pflum's shoulder.

The Marine paused, but quickly took in the seriousness of Alba's expression. "Hostiles aboard ship?"

"Does she not seem hostile to you?" Alba gasped out, gesturing to the lump on his head and the bruises on his throat.

Valid. Pflum turned to the Marine beside him, "Call it in." The Sergeant had made herself into an armed hostile. She'd attacked a bridge officer, twice. "Let's get you to the conference room, Alba." The Admiral would meet them there. "You've 'ad quite a day."

The young engineer clung to Pflum's tactical vest, feeling dizzy and nauseous. "She's with the inspector." The inspector's sudden appearance had distracted Alba, and Cortana had seized the chance to grab her side arm and knock Alba out.

"Beezlenac." Pflum cursed, half-dragging Ensign Alba to the conference room. The inspector alone had been enough trouble. Now that inspector was being guided by a Marine Sergeant who was armed and dangerous, which likely wasn't going to end well, at all.

Alba had no recollection of arriving in the conference room or being deposited into one of the leather chairs around the table. His head throbbed, a combination of exhaustion and injury leaving him completely dazed.

The next time he came to, it was with cheek picking up splinters from the conference table's old, split wood. The room was spinning, and there was a slight ringing in his ears. Admiral Gives was standing across the table, his commanding presence filling the room. "Hi, sir," Alba drowsily.

To everyone else in the room, that greeting was a completely incoherent gargle. Admiral Gives turned to Pflum, "Is he injured?"

Pflum shrugged, "He was unconscious when we found him. He passed out again when we brough him 'ere."

Admiral Gives noted the lump on the ensign's head. "The moment we finish here, take him to the medical bay. Full concussion protocol." This lax, sleepy behavior was very unlike the young bridge officer. The Admiral had come to expect it from his second in command, but not from Alba.

"I suppose he's looking a might green," Pflum agreed. The engineer looked downright motion sick, but the ship's inertial dampening systems kept everything in static equilibrium. Even if they were under acceleration, Alba shouldn't be feeling it.

"Ensign," the Admiral said, "I need to know what happened."

"Iwas walkingda-"

"Oi, kid, 'ead up," Pflum called, gesturing for Alba to peel his face off the table. "We can't understand anything you're trying to say."

Alba pulled his head off the wooden tabletop, ignoring the resultant dizziness. "I'm not a kid." He'd been on this ship for five years, despite still being younger than most of the crew.