Xandra stepped from the lift and headed for the CIC. She never looked back to see if one or both of the Councilors were following her. They didn’t know what was wrong, or even if there was something wrong. She felt fine, was clear headed, had even run over the specs of every ship she had ever flown in her life. There was no mixing it up n her head, no crossing of the lines. No, it had to be the planet and whatever had happened during her blackout.

Stepping into the CIC she listened as Ric gave his orders to those on the away mission and stepped up beside him. “Permission to take a shuttle to the surface, Sir.” Her voice was confident and sure, though Ric would see the slight twitch of her fingers and the pulse racing at her neck as she stood toe to toe with the man who had permission to ground her for the rest of her career. “I believe the trouble I had was linked to the surface. I feel fine and even the Councilors can’t decide if there is anything wrong.” She wasn’t making excuses, merely stating facts. It was coming out as calculated facts and the emotions were, for the most part, being kept at bay. “I want to return to the surface, with whatever escort you deem necessary. And I will remain away from the mission so there is no need to worry about me putting anyone in jeapordy. One of two things will happen… nothing, in which case, you choose whatever measure of punishment, or medical care, or censorship you deem necessary. Or,” she took a deep breath,” returning to the surface and being subjected to whatever residue is left from those microwave emitters that have been used for years, will cause another reaction. If it’s the latter, then we know that whoever we rescue or bring up here from down there will need treatment. And we will know not to let them go back to the surface again… that includes me.”

She wasn’t sure if her assumption was right or not, but it was the only equation variable they hadn’t accounted for.

Xandra
Pilot (?)