The medical software and their corresponding instruments hummed as they worked in tandem over the unresponsive duchess. More quickly than any human could have ever operated the small laceration was analyzed and mended, a topical treatment was applied to reduce the bruising, and Solae was injected with a cocktail of drugs that would reduce swelling and help stimulate her recovery. What it was unable to synthesize, however, were the benefits of rest. Arguably Mia would have woken her mistress if she didn't have compelling historical evidence it would be better to let her 'sleep' off the worst portion of her healing process. An AI did not have the same emotional capacity as a human being. There had been experiments in creating software that would make them feel that had either ultimately failed or succeeded so well it became inherently dangerous. Scientists had quickly discovered that they were ill-prepared for a sentience that could review and react to their morality or lack thereof, especially since a machine had such vast capabilities that were not confined by fleshy mortality.

What was more worrisome than the mild concussion was the crushing damage the diplomat had sustained to her legs. In the heat of the moment she had reflexively pushed Rosaria and Bel'sian out of the way without considering the circumstances. Anyone who knew her could have complete confidence that she would have done the same even if would have left her crippled. The massive amount of weight on her lower limbs had fractured the bone in multiple places, internal bleeding, compartment syndrome, nerve destruction, and skin that was so badly wounded it was almost uniformly a dark color rather than its normal pallor. Anti-bionics were administered to stave off infection as well as anesthetics while surgery was conducted in the privacy of the pod. Technology would accelerate her return to mobility, yet this was not a top-of-the-line rejuvenation chamber. Zatis, for all his planning, had not anticipated this level of reckless selflessness. For a few days at a minimum she would be moving more slowly and awkwardly.

For their part, Dasin and Yarue had been reluctant to leave Rosaria in charge with the two strangers while Solae and Rene recuperated. Because of the importance of cooperation, consent, and compromise in their society, neither could in good conscience retire to their shared quarters unless they made a mutual agreement. Despite all the horrific treatment at the hands of Thorne they were still Syshin philosophically and culturally. Rosaria went to take a shower, disgusted at the mud, satisfied that Rene had not died from his exhaustion, and reassured that the eccentric linguist would survive without her presence. Bouradine and Bel'sian were left to watch in confusion as the duo of aliens bickered in their tongue about who should be inconvenienced to stand watch.

"Is there anything we can do?" the Kalderi ventured. What they were debating was unknown to her, but it was impossible to not notice that there was a disagreement. The slender female and her merchant partner were sitting near the two patients. They felt a sort of responsibility for the soldier since they had been the ones to first discover her. Similarly the lovers couldn't just walk away from the small entourage that had found them and prevented a mudslide from severing their relationship permanently. They owed the nobleman and noblewoman a debt of gratitude. The least they could do is wait until the larger group was all physically able to hold a conversation about what had transpired and how to approach the future.

"We must choose who stays," Yarue said curtly. He wasn't mad as his short tone might imply; he was tired and annoyed that Dasin was stubbornly refusing to be the one to go lay in their room. Each wanted to sacrifice for the other.

"Who stays?" Bel'sian queried as she shifted her weight and lightly fluttered her wings in bafflement. "Is one of you... leaving?" she asked more hesitantly, looking to Bouradine to make certain her common was correct. He nodded in approval. Hearing a tall masculine humanoid with combat armor and a thick accent have an exchange with a haltingly fluent waifish feminine humanoid in a dirty smock was a bizarre spectacle to say the least. 

"One will go to sleep," Yarue answered, "the other stays to watch," he added as he gestured to Rene, Solae, and the soldier as an afterthought. He knew how to follow orders- he just was not as invested in the marine as the humans obviously were. Years of mistreatment left a scar and helpless as she was, it was hard not to see her as a representative of the violently oppressive arm of the Stellar Empire.

"We can keep watch," Bouradine volunteered amicably. "I'll wake you up if anything happens with the duchess," he promised.

Dasin and Yarue stared at him. Besides each other the best at reading their facial expressions and body language was Solae, who had both studied the Syshin and whose profession focused on being able to facilitate communication, regardless of whether it was oral, written, or otherwise. 'Large' emotions were much easier to read than the subtler nuances of doubt, apprehension, or uneasiness. Their silence was what ultimately clued in the trader that they were not terribly enthusiastic about his proposition.

"I owe her my life," Bel'sian interjected. "We promise you that we will not leave until we talk." She didn't quite know how to articulate the rest. Eloquent as she was in the Kalderi language, she knew they would not understand a grand speech given in her native tongue.

"We accept," Dasin agreed before Yarue could object. "The computer will alert us when she wakes," he said. He wasn't quite comfortable with addressing Mia as casually as the humans were- not yet. Something about the fact she was a computer that had control of the vessel and spoke so oddly made him passively uncomfortable with the artificial entity.

---

For over an hour the Bonaventure was quiet. Rosaria, after showering, had made herself scarce in her room while she tried to erase the trauma of being almost buried alive (not recognizing that by most criteria she actually had been). The male crewmen slumbered. Bouradine and Bel'sian chatted quietly, their hands intertwined as they whispered so as to not disturb anyone. Given the unpredictable weather outside they were content in the warmth and shelter of the spacecraft. During the respite Mia had guaranteed any natural disaster disturbance would trigger her emergency protocols and allow her to fly them to somewhere safe. She elected not to inform them that her auto-piloting was rudimentary and that the take off and landing would be quite rough; her code determined this was not data they needed to know.

Underneath the tinted panes of the medical capsule Solae began to stir. With the worst symptoms of her concussion alleviated she started to buoy back towards consciousness gradually. Laying on her back, no matter how high quality the cot, was not her preference, and when she started to try to twist to her side and was unable, it jerked her closer to being awake. Eyes moved underneath their lids, lashes flitting, until they ever so slowly opened. She inhaled quickly as the confines of the space started to make her panic. Her last memory had been in a pile of rubble with a wave of heavy sediment crashing down over top, drowning out light, closing her off from the world. To say that her pod was not an ideal environment for her psychologically was an understatement. "Let me out, let me out!" she hoarsely demanded as she pushed on one 'wall' with her hand. "Mia? Mia, I demand you let me out!"