A Pair of Frozen Hearts

[Laehval tTemarr 0]

A Pair of Frozen Hearts - Part I

By Daise’Engineer El’Riov Laehval t’Temarr

 

 

The vast complex of Ra’tleihfi’s main medical facility sprawled over several city blocks in ch’Rihan’s capital city. The primary building of the Institute, as to which it was commonly referred, was several dozen stories tall and housed hundreds of different departments. Each level was color coded by department and each departmental section was numbered into subsections. And because the place was a confusing maze of offices, laboratories, patient housing, and testing facilities, Laehval t’Temarr had become hopelessly lost after only a few twists and turns.

 

Somewhere in her wake, Shibae t’Aehjae was being tended in the emergency ward by a swarm of doctors and nurses. She felt slightly guilty about leaving the security officer alone. Shibae’s presence in the Institute was valid, as she had beaten and required healing, but her ‘relapse’ had only been an act to gain Laehval entry. It was that fact only that overruled Laehval’s concern for her fellow crewmember and kept her searching. Access to the medical facility was restricted to specific areas and certain rankings. She had not the blood ties, nor the high ranking to be allowed inside. Had she been injured, she would have been given quarters in the facility, but patients had little freedom, and treatment was less than congenial. Some of the doctors in the Institute made Talon’s Daise’Maenak t’Ksa seem pleasant by comparison. Laehval had no wish to suffer the wrath of those doctors and waste valuable leave time undergoing pointless tests and treatments.

 

Pausing at one of the private computer booths, she lightly pressed a few buttons and brought up the complex map. Not all departments were listed to the general public as some were low profile sections that the Romulan government regularly denied or disavowed. Laehval, however, was an engineer of the highest caliber. And she’d planned for such a situation before she’d ever left the Talon. After tapping in a security cleared code that she had filtered from the facility computers while onboard the Talon, the display chirped acknowledgement and the entire screen filled with a more detailed diagram. Quickly assessing her current position and her intended destination, Laehval wiped out all record of the inquiry and continued down the corridor.

 

She was dressed as an Institute resident, having pilfered several appropriate items of clothing once she’d abandoned Shibae. Most people gave her no notice as there were hundreds of such residents in attendance, either completing their own medical degrees or gaining valuable experience before enrolling in other programs. Her passage through the complex went virtually unobserved and without incident.

 

The muted hues that marked the corridor sections gradually changed from a pale olive green to a deeper shade. Evergreen gave way to navy and navy to indigo. Once she was in the indigo sections, her pace slowed and she began counting the hallways that branched off to either side. Rounding the corner on the third left hand hallway, Laehval passed sections seven, eight, nine, and ten, pausing finally at section eleven. A stout security-coded door barred her way, but again she was prepared. A set of two numeric sequences switched the entrance monitors from red to green and the distinct rumble of retracting tumblers greeted her efforts.

 

Moving through the door as it opened to grant her entry, the determined engineer found herself in cryogenic storage. The department was empty, also as planned. Every sixth day, the scientists and medical personnel in this department were allowed forty-eight hours of rest. It was extremely good-fortune that Talon’s second day of leave coincided with that break. Passing the vacant offices and laboratories, she finally threaded her way to the storage chamber. Once unlocked with the same sequence, a hiss of pressurized air escaped along with wisps of fog. She quickly entered and secured the door behind her.

 

Rows and rows of stasis units lined either side of the singular walkway. Vapor rose in thick clouds and obscured the chamber a few meters beyond her position. Shivering in the thin medical coat she wore, Laehval attempted to ignore the cold and quickly moved toward the computer terminal located inside the room. The current list of cryo patients was accessed and scanned for a particular name and the stasis unit assigned to that name. Chewing nervously on her lower lip, Laehval moved further into the chamber, weaving through the numbered units.

 

Inanimate bodies surrounded her on all sides, each perfectly preserved in stasis, awaiting release at some later date. If a family had enough wealth and high-esteem, members could choose to voluntarily undergo such storage to preserve and prolong their lives far beyond the standard two-hundred fifty years. If a member of a prestigious family was fatally injured or contracted an incurable illness, that family could also choose to have their loved one put into stasis rather than watch them expire. Detailed records and charts were kept on the status of each patient in hopes that a cure would one day be found for their condition. Because new medical treatments were constantly being introduced (oftentimes made possible by special funding from the patient’s family), such occurrences happened with surprising regularly.

 

It was one such patient that Laehval sought, stored in stasis unit number twelve-thirty-six. Approaching the unit slowly, her gaze moved up the solidly frozen exterior to discern the figure inside, half obscured by the icy haze. One hand lifted to clear away a wide swath of frost that clung to the structure, revealing the face … the man … beyond.

 

“Tarryn.” The name was a bare whisper, uttered from numbed lips that longed to remember the warmth of his kiss.

Edited May 14, 2004 by Laehval tTemarr

[STSF_BluRox 0]

A Pair of Frozen Hearts

By Daise’Engineer El’Riov Laehval t’Temarr

 

 

The vast complex of Ra’tleihfi’s main medical facility sprawled over several city blocks in ch’Rihan’s capital city. The primary building of the Institute, as to which it was commonly referred, was several dozen stories tall and housed hundreds of different departments. Each level was color coded by department and each departmental section was numbered into subsections. And because the place was a confusing maze of offices, laboratories, patient housing, and testing facilities, Laehval t’Temarr had become hopelessly lost after only a few twists and turns.

 

Somewhere in her wake, Shibae t’Aehjae was being tended in the emergency ward by a swarm of doctors and nurses. She felt slightly guilty about leaving the security officer alone. Shibae’s presence in the Institute was valid, as she had beaten and required healing, but her ‘relapse’ had only been an act to gain Laehval entry. It was that fact only that overruled Laehval’s concern for her fellow crewmember and kept her searching. Access to the medical facility was restricted to specific areas and certain rankings. She had not the blood ties, nor the high ranking to be allowed inside. Had she been injured, she would have been given quarters in the facility, but patients had little freedom, and treatment was less than congenial. Some of the doctors in the Institute made Talon’s Daise’Maenak t’Ksa seem pleasant by comparison. Laehval had no wish to suffer the wrath of those doctors and waste valuable leave time undergoing pointless tests and treatments.

 

Pausing at one of the private computer booths, she lightly pressed a few buttons and brought up the complex map. Not all departments were listed to the general public as some were low profile sections that the Romulan government regularly denied or disavowed. Laehval, however, was an engineer of the highest caliber. And she’d planned for such a situation before she’d ever left the Talon. After tapping in a security cleared code that she had filtered from the facility computers while onboard the Talon, the display chirped acknowledgement and the entire screen filled with a more detailed diagram. Quickly assessing her current position and her intended destination, Laehval wiped out all record of the inquiry and continued down the corridor.

 

She was dressed as an Institute resident, having pilfered several appropriate items of clothing once she’d abandoned Shibae. Most people gave her no notice as there were hundreds of such residents in attendance, either completing their own medical degrees or gaining valuable experience before enrolling in other programs. Her passage through the complex went virtually unobserved and without incident.

 

The muted hues that marked the corridor sections gradually changed from a pale olive green to a deeper shade. Evergreen gave way to navy and navy to indigo. Once she was in the indigo sections, her pace slowed and she began counting the hallways that branched off to either side. Rounding the corner on the third left hand hallway, Laehval passed sections seven, eight, nine, and ten, pausing finally at section eleven. A stout security-coded door barred her way, but again she was prepared. A set of two numeric sequences switched the entrance monitors from red to green and the distinct rumble of retracting tumblers greeted her efforts.

 

Moving through the door as it opened to grant her entry, the determined engineer found herself in cryogenic storage. The department was empty, also as planned. Every sixth day, the scientists and medical personnel in this department were allowed forty-eight hours of rest. It was extremely good-fortune that Talon’s second day of leave coincided with that break. Passing the vacant offices and laboratories, she finally threaded her way to the storage chamber. Once unlocked with the same sequence, a hiss of pressurized air escaped along with wisps of fog. She quickly entered and secured the door behind her.

 

Rows and rows of stasis units lined either side of the singular walkway. Vapor rose in thick clouds and obscured the chamber a few meters beyond her position. Shivering in the thin medical coat she wore, Laehval attempted to ignore the cold and quickly moved toward the computer terminal located inside the room. The current list of cryo patients was accessed and scanned for a particular name and the stasis unit assigned to that name. Chewing nervously on her lower lip, Laehval moved further into the chamber, weaving through the numbered units.

 

Inanimate bodies surrounded her on all sides, each perfectly preserved in stasis, awaiting release at some later date. If a family had enough wealth and high-esteem, members could choose to voluntarily undergo such storage to preserve and prolong their lives far beyond the standard two-hundred fifty years. If a member of a prestigious family was fatally injured or contracted an incurable illness, that family could also choose to have their loved one put into stasis rather than watch them expire. Detailed records and charts were kept on the status of each patient in hopes that a cure would one day be found for their condition. Because new medical treatments were constantly being introduced (oftentimes made possible by special funding from the patient’s family), such occurrences happened with surprising regularly.

 

It was one such patient that Laehval sought, stored in stasis unit number twelve-thirty-six. Approaching the unit slowly, her gaze moved up the solidly frozen exterior to discern the figure inside, half obscured by the icy haze. One hand lifted to clear away a wide swath of frost that clung to the structure, revealing the face … the man … beyond.

 

“Tarryn.” The name was a bare whisper, uttered from numbed lips that longed to remember the warmth of his kiss.

Wow....more great logs. You all are going to guilt me into writing.

 

Laeh, I still say that's a great avatar.