Down Time
By ElJay
"Give us some more blood, Dylan. The needle won't hurt, Dylan. Take off your shirt, Dylan. Roll over, Dylan. Breathe deeply, Dylan. Blood sample, Dylan; marrow sample, Dylan; skin sample, Dylan. If - IF! - I live long enough, I'm going to run out of samples."
"You'll live." Tyr sounded amused - he could afford to; he wasn't susceptible.
"Oh yes, I'll live, but I won't enjoy it."
He had just closed his eyes, ready to drift off again, when Trance came back with her tray of instruments. He groaned. "What now?"
"Just a little more blood - I need to see if the antibiotic levels are correct." He tried not to flinch. He hated needles.
Tyr recalled his attention. "Sir, if we might continue? I understand that Antarean Flu is taxing for Humans, but the training agenda for the wargames must be decided now - the exercises were dismal enough with just the Castalians. The new Cadet Cadre from Mobius insists on participating this time and we must be prepared if we are to avoid real casualties next week."
"They can't be that bad."
"Oh really? They only have ten qualified pilots thus far. The rest are still in simulators and even so, they crash with distressing regularity."
"Oh."
Suddenly, spending the next two weeks on Med Deck with Trance and her endless supply of needles didn't sound quite so bad.
Finis
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