DIVA/WISP: Pureheart and the Shadow Queen #4

deucexm deucexm at gmail.com
Wed Apr 8 21:18:59 PDT 2020


It's hard to believe the last installment was January 2019.
But the story is far too personal for me to abandon it -
and every tale deserves some measure of closure.
Though we are far from reaching it, in this case.

========

Pureheart and the Shadow Queen: A DiVerse Alpha Chronicle
by Felix

-04-

========

The bridge doors hissed shut behind Pureheart, and for a moment she simply stood
there and pondered the Captain's words.  'My best judgment...'

She hadn't needed to use much judgment at all back on Viverde, apart from
whether or not to follow orders; and thankfully that question had never brought
conflict, as she had been utilized only on rare occasions thanks to the side
effects of her abilities.  Deciding to leave - after deciding to join up, she
supposed - had been the most difficult choice in recent memory.

Here, though, despite the friendlier atmosphere and Laurel's much-needed
support, it was becoming quite apparent that the amount of agency she'd have -
as a partner, not a subordinate - would demand a clear head and decisive action.
And truth be told, that worried her more than any of the other potential
threats; she wasn't sure she'd be up to the task.

Pushing that thought to the side for the moment - she'd have to deal with it
later, of that she was all too sure - Pureheart made her way down the corridor,
following the wordless markings leading her toward the medical bay.  It was
amazing how the whole design of the ship had so much... /flow/ to it. 
'Irregular cruiser' indeed; she'd never seen anything like it before - though
what exactly the terminology meant, she had no idea.

As she neared the medical bay, the door slid aside with a gentle two-tone
notification.  "Come in, come in," Dr. Wright's gruff voice called from within -
well, not /that/ gruff - "let's have a look at you, Ms. Pureheart."

She entered the room, and was pleased (though not particularly surprised) to
find it both spacious and well-appointed, with a critical care section marked
off in the rear.  Clearly this was a place meant for serving more than just its
own crew complement, and she said as much.

"Aye, Thunder Launcher has been on quite a few missions of mercy, if you'd call
them that.   Friends, enemies, innocents, unknowns - we care for them all," the
doctor continued, showing her to an examination table with comfortable padding. 
"I've always found a helping hand to be the best form of diplomacy."

Pureheart eased onto the table and tried to relax.  Medical stuff didn't make
her uncomfortable, exactly, but she wasn't a big fan of it either.  "I suppose I
can't argue with that," she mused.  "Laurel certainly helped me when I needed it
- when I didn't even /know/ I needed it."

Dr. Wright chuckled quietly.  "Ah, they're good at that sort of thing, it's
true."  He slid over a portable terminal and deployed some hover-sensors, which
started to float over Pureheart, their arrays of thin amber lasers scanning her
thoroughly.  "I deal more with physical issues, but you're welcome to come to me
if you have something that's on your mind.  I wouldn't want you going to battle
if your head and heart aren't right - that's how people end up here, all too
often."

A brief silence followed as Pureheart mulled this over, punctuated by the soft
tones of the terminal and the doctor's typing.

"How old are you?" Dr. Wright inquired, eventually, when his patient maintained
her somewhat uncomfortable silence.  "A rough estimate is fine, stasis tanks can
mess with that a bit-"

"No no, I can do this, I just need to do some math," Pureheart interjected,
squinting a little.  "Twenty... uh... twenty-eight?  At least that's how many
years since I was born, maybe shave off a bit because of stasis, but it seems
right to me."

"So, twenty-eight O.S.Y.?"

"Yeah."  Like many other worlds, especially Nilian-aligned ones, Viverde used
Old Solar Years as a standard for age.  It wasn't an exact match for their own
solar cycle, but it was pretty close, all told.

Dr. Wright nodded, and tapped a button on the terminal, the hovering sensors
returning to their little receptacles.  "Well, you seem just fine, considering
the time you spent in a tank.  It'll take a little time to go over your profile
in depth, but I'm not seeing any red flags; there are a few issues that tend to
come with extended stays in stasis, but there's no sign of those on your scans,
which is a good thing."  He pushed the terminal away.  "You're clear to go and
get yourself banged up in whatever manner you see fit, Ms. Pureheart. Just let
me know if I need to open up the back room for you."

"W-well I certainly hope it doesn't come to that!" Pureheart responded hastily,
before she saw the slight twinkle in the doctor's eye.

"I doubt it will," he returned, in a slightly less gruff tone. "You've got good
types all around you, and they won't let you down that easy."

"Yeah, well - well, what if /I/ let /them/ down?"

Dr. Wright slowly leaned back in his chair.  "And there it is.  Come on, lass,
let it out."

And she did.  "I'm terrified that it's gonna happen just like that! Everyone
here is fantastic and amazing and special and great and look at me," Pureheart
blurted, "I've spent nearly a decade doing next to nothing in a glass tube
except when I got told to get out of it and do something!  When I got /told/ to!
And now I'm supposed to use /judgment/?  Do you have any /idea/ how much that
scares me, doc?  To be told I have to figure stuff out and know what to do in
this crowd of superstars, and to think that - no, to /know/ that at some point
it's all gonna come crashing down because I can't keep up with them?! I mean,
like..."  She took a deep breath.  "... wow, guess I was holding that in for a
while."

The doctor smiled, in an almost grandfatherly way (though he wasn't /quite/ that
old).  "Well, I'm glad you told me, then, instead of keeping it bottled up," he
returned quietly.  "That's a lot of weight to be carrying, so let me share it
with you.  In fact, let all of us share it with you; we're a crew, after all,
and that's what we do."

"None of us are perfect, and even 'fantastic' is a bit of a stretch," Dr. Wright
continued with a soft chuckle.  "We've had our share of scrapes and rough
patches, poor decisions we wish we could take back - even some really painful
moments.  But.  You know what happened after all that?"

Pureheart looked up at him inquisitively.

"We /kept going/.  And we did it /together/.  And we lifted each other up,
because that's what friends - family - crewmates - that's what /we/ do.  None of
us wants anyone aboard to fail, or to suffer - 'cause we've certainly been down
that road before, and we know the sting of it all too well."  The doctor smiled,
a little wryly.  "So you can trust there'll be someone there to talk some sense
into you, or knock it into you as needs be, if you start heading the wrong way.
Because we care enough to do that for you, lass, that much and more."

"I, uh..."  Pureheart could feel the heat blooming in her cheeks yet again. 
"Th-thank you.  Thank you /very/ much.  I just- I don't... I don't really know
how to- how to react to, to all this..."

Dr. Wright grinned.  "What, people being thoughtful and considerate and
helpful?"

"... ... yes."

"Well, that's just the way we are.  All in our different ways, of course."  He
offered Pureheart a hand, and helped her stand up.  "Why don't you get to know
Ms. Dinistrio and /her/ ways, then?  I'm sure she's eager to start tinkering
with that launcher she's designed for you."

Pureheart stood, and offered a smile in return.  "I believe I'll do just that. 
... Thank you, Dr. Wright."

"You're welcome, Ms. Pureheart.  And do try not to worry too much; it's bad for
your health, and I recommend against it.  Worrying is /my/ business, after all."

And so with a smile - and a much lighter heart - she left the medical bay, and
headed to her next stop.


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