"Lady Solae," Mia purred with what sounded like a bizarre mixture of seductive concern. The duchess had wondered if her former paramour, Lord Armon, had sought out an AI that could perform every function with inappropriate innuendo. If she had paused to really ponder what her sophisticated computer sounded like, she would have realized it almost sounded a lady trying to role-play a nurse, something that she couldn't deny more than a few members of the nobility would find much more appealing than she did. "The injuries to your legs could not be completely repaired while you were under anesthesia. Only restricted equipment, which is not compatible with the [i]Bonaventure[/i] is able to safely accelerate the complete recovery of a patient. It is recommended that you continue to rest. If you would like for me to provide a sedative..."

Disregarding the implied warnings she should remain laying down, the diplomat sat up, which she passively understood was the most she could easily do. She reached forward and wrapped her arms around Rene, ignoring how incredibly filthy he was. In its own way the mud was a tactile reassurance. If her fiance had bathed she might have worried about how much time had passed, questioned if everything had been a bad dream, if he had been caught in the disaster, if he had been harmed himself, if he had helped rescue them or there had been another intervention. The crumbling soil dispelled her worries that she was trapped in a bad dream. Even in her absolute worst nightmares there was never any odor like the muskiness her beau had- though she wouldn't point it out and ruin the moment. They had bigger problems than his lack of shower.

"No sedative," Solae insisted. There was sufficient localized numbing agents in her legs that they weren't causing her any pain. Her pants had been cut away and disposed of, her battered legs cleaned, and heavily bandaged, with braces that would allow her to awkwardly walk if necessary. It was top of the line treatment for a battlefield but not nearly as efficient as a highly sought after imperial rejuvenation chamber. Doctors had created ways with synthetic materials to make braces even more custom fitted and practical so that patients, be they leaders in positions that did not allow the whisper of weakness, or grunts in an active war zone, could be active for the majority of the recuperation period.

"You both look awful," Rosaria observed dryly as she appeared from the kitchen where she had been getting a snack. Bouradine and Bel'sian had brought provisions from their camp site and had a small meal together a short while ago, not wanting to impose on their hosts, and feeling too indebted to accept any gifts of food or drink. The couple had withdrawn to another part of the vessel to afford Rene and his beloved some privacy. Rosaria- who had been alerted by Mia just as Rene had- was not nearly as reserved about inserting herself in a scene or offering her opinion.

"Rosaria..." Solae's words drifted as she spoke, still clinging to Rene as if he was her anchor to the world of the waking.

"Bel'sian and I are both uninjured, but Mia is right, you should rest," Rosaria asserted in a rare moment of wisdom. She had not been entirely divested of her selfish nature. Thinking of others did not come as naturally to her as it came to the heir of the Falia family line, but very few people in the known universe could claim that level of benevolence.

"I want to lay down in my own room," she insisted, "not in this thing. What about the soldier? Is she all right? And Yarue and Dasin?" One of the monitors displayed her blood pressure and heart rate, both of which were slowly rising as the pitch of her voice did as well. "I should check on everyone," Solae murmured more to herself than to anyone else in the room. "Everyone here is my responsibility."