ACV Decistor » Places

         After saying his prayers in the chapel, Zus decided it would be best to make the rounds at the infirmary. Typically in this scenario the XO would take charge of the maintenance and let the Captain do the visitation, but Cassin enjoyed his work too much and left Zus with little to do at times. It allowed him to keep close relations with the crew. As he walked the rooms some of the crew began to salute him but he waived them off, standing by military formalities in time like this was unnecessary. He greeted people here and there, consoled a female ensign as someone she obviously cared for had passed away from his battle wounds. It would be nice to say he knew every member of the Decistor, but that would be a lie, the man's name tag had been burned off and he couldn't recall the face. Zus's hand found hers and he whispered a prayer only she could hear. Perhaps she wasn't religious, but she seemed to appreciate it.

Many had died in the battle, and quite a few were wounded. There were a few serious injuries; head wounds and broken limbs. There were also minor wounds as well, still important to treat. Zus passed one of medrooms, members of the kitchen staff were talking to a medical officer, Ensign Zharkov lay unconscious on the table. Further down the medbay First Lieutenant Venner was being stubborn about having a head wound treated as a nurse dabbed away at it. Venner was waving her off as if his medical needs were nothing important. The nurse stormed off, frustrated.

"Maybe you shouldn't have that treated at all Venner, it'd make for a nice scar," he chuckled. "I wanted to commend you on how you handled yourself and our fighters out there, truly a great job. I saw you and wanted to get an informal battle report of sorts." Zus gave a stern look to the Captain of the fighter pilots, a man known for never letting his emotion show, even after his former ship, the ACV Glorify, had been destroyed in battle. Different officers took their losses in different ways, the last thing the Decistor needed was someone blaming themselves for all the death that had taken place, Zus could read people well but Venner was one that continued to elude him. It naturally made him a little more interesting. The Lieutenant was an impressive man and could easily be the commanding officer of a ship someday, capable of handling any orders, though he lacked some of the charisma necessary to inspire a whole ship. As long as he kept bringing back results, his statistics would overpower any social shortcomings.

         "It's time," spoke Emile. A short middle aged man with grey hair, Emile was a veteran of the art of cooking. The way he used Velerian spices was unparalleled. Not an achievement anyone could gloat about, but still.

"Why now?," asked Klosse. The German-descent stood near Emile, toying with his butter knife. They stood in the main supplies office contemplating on whether to steal the bottle of Illyrian champagne the head chef had saved for himself. Another man stood near Emile.

"Just get on with it," spoke Jonas, devoid of expressions as usual. Klosse looked at Jonas and spoke, "Don't get so excited. Someone call Vladimir and ask him where the head chef is." Emile took his cell out and called Vladimir. After ten rings, Vladimir picke up, "What?"

"Where bossman?" asked Emile. "Who?" responded Vladimir, clearly sleepy. Jason tensed up, "Dude, bossman. Head chef. What are you doing?"

"Answering a person who is not allowing me to sleep," responded Vladimir and ended the call. Emile turned back to his mates slowly as the door opened and gave a weak smile. "That bastard," muttered Jonas, still devoid of emotions.

The group faced Jewls, the head chef. "What are you three doing here?"
"Uhmm... Uhh..." started Klosse...
"Well, now that you are here..."

---

"Man," started a happy Emile, "That champagne was the best I've ever had." The three musketeers walked happily along the central walkway of the class 2 living area. "True," spoke Jonas as he waved at his subordinate chef, Logan. The was over for them, for a while. Jonas hoped the strain of war wouldn't affect the chirpy guy; he considered Logan as his little brother.

"Man, how am I going to have that bland juice that they give us now that I have tasted the nectar of the Gods?," Klosse feigned despair.
"Which is his room?" asked Jonas. "619. I'm looking forward to this," replied Emile, a murderous glee in his eyes.

Two minutes later they reached Room 619. Each room in Class 2 housed two people. The door was open and Jonas touched it with suspicion. The door creaked open revealing a bleeding Vladimir on the ground, groaning in pain. Jonas rushed in to pick him up and Klosse and Emile supported Jonas.

"What happened?!" shouted Emile anxiously.
"Don't know. Kloasse, get a doctor quickly" spoke Jonas immediately but Klosse was already halfway down the hallway. Emile called the ship's emergency services.

---

2 hours later

"How is he?" asked a concerned Klosse. Emile and Jonas stood with him facing the doctor, searching for the answer on the doctor's face. The look on the doctor's face wasn't encouraging.

"Doesn't look that good. Still unconscious. He seems to have gotten this injury during the mission when his plane was shot, but he managed to hide it," spoke the doctor while guiding them through the place, through the other patients, towards the ward where Vladimir was. Just as Emile feared, it was the ICU.

"But on the phone he sounded fine. And he was okay when we asked him to help us," said Emile nervously. The doctor turned around in surprise...