Darkness.

Rest.

Quiet.

Xant awoke feeling uncomfortable.

His right hand’s nerves still tingled from the direct joining he had with the Subject.

While the depressors had soothed the initial Frequency burn there was a lingering sensation he couldn’t quite explain. The Subject was frightened and anxious, it was only natural those emotional responses would be transferred to him. Nothing further medication wouldn’t be able to fix.

He arose from his bed in the wall and slowly began his regular routine. Cleansing, dressing, nutrition and reports. He had been busy the last few [days] reorganising the schedule for his entire department. Ensuring that every specimen’s needs and research were attended to. Xant himself had even taken on more field work; his assistants were uncomfortable working with the main Subject, stating that the intense staring, lack of Freq pulse and the unexplained need to speak beyond an answer was something they were simply not trained to deal with.

True, Xant had entertained the notion that behavioral studies should be brought onto the project, but with their department head still off-station on personal business, it would have been unfair to place a whole project’s worth of responsibility on unprepared assistants.

So far Xant had been using his previous experience while working with the Subject. He had since been enjoying his time with her. She was very quick and willing to pick up commutative signals, her mimicry had especially come in handy when teaching her the phrases to activate the facilities in her habitation unit. After only a few demonstrations she had learned almost a dozen phrases of Galactic Council standard. It was strange to hear the familiar phrases roll out of her mouth, void of the usual translator pulse; she had even attempted to teach him some of her own phrases.

The desire to communicate must be a deeply ingrained one, since the Subject had begun to exhibit conversing when neither himself or another attendant was present.

Maybe that was the reason his assistants weren’t up to the task?

He often forgot the advantages his previous experience on Jothram during reclamation had granted him. Rangers had even weirder personal eccentricities more sheltered scientists wouldn’t be exposed to.

One message received

Xant’s comms terminal desired his attention.

Assistant Fen: Doctor, we have successfully transferred the three quadruped mammals to the genetics department. DH Dr. Duuarn has signed for them to be in his care.

CMO Krydon has made contact with me, the translator has arrived and is being held in the medical department awaiting your approval for the procedure.

Everything was running on schedule. Excellent.

His assistants would be able to handle the workload without his supervision. The other specimens were fauna, they would only need to be kept alive and healthy until it was their turn to be observed and examined by the Genetics and Behavioural Studies departments.

Xant sat at his terminal and observed his Subject. Despite her irregular and long rest times, the Subject was currently…

Xant stopped and stared at the security footage on screen.

Apparently the Subject was trying to inverse her normal walking stance.

Supporting her entire weight on her manipulators instead of the intended flat pads. Her head contorted in an uncomfortable position, and shakily moving her arms as though walking, legs bent over for added balance. The doctor was hit with the conflicting sense of being both bewildered and impressed, especially when she picked up speed and improved her balance.

If she was awake and performing minor acrobatics, then she was awake enough for a briefing.

-*-

As the door to her hab unit opened he heard a startled yelp, and a rather large thud.

The Subject collapsed in a heap, knocking the white stool by the table, but scrambled to her feet as quickly as she had fallen, returning to that poised stance she used to greet him.

A quick bow.

Xant returned it with a slow bow of the head, inviting himself in and standing at the table.

The Subject moved the stool to sit at the table, waiting for today’s dataslate and ready to learn more words. Xant placed the Dataslate in front of her, but it was not the usual learning tools, today he had a video prepared for her. It would take them weeks to get a basic understanding of each other’s language just using mimicry and graphics. So Xant had instead used his resources to have a recording of an Arvas translator implant surgery installed instead. The insectoids were the only race who needed to have the translator surgically placed after maturity, the majority of the GC had it installed in vitro. It was the closest he could come to explaining the necessity of surgery without a proper translator.

His subject winced at the sight of the first incision, looking back at the doctor with concerned eyes. Xant pulled out the graphics dataslate and crudely drew a picture of himself and the subject talking.

She looked up from the recording to his illustration.

Even without a means of understanding each other, she insisted on vocalising. She tapped her head with her finger, then her throat and ears.

Xant was pleased she understood, he nodded, a gesture she understood. The Subject then erased the talking picture, and in return drew her own.The images showed Xant administering a chem, then the subject with her eyes closed, and her eyes remained closed while her head was opened by surgery.

A request to be medically unconscious for the procedure. Xant reached into his pocket for his med pen, and the Subject responded happily.

This was a problem.

Xant knew the surgery would go smoother if the subject was awake and able to respond to questions for the calibration to be correctly calculated. Without the responding brainwaves, Krydon would be going in blind.

But.

Xant looked at his charge.

She understood what the surgery was and enough to know the surgery needed to be completed, maybe it was a species preference? It was simple enough to accommodate, especially if she was insistent. Which seemed to be the case.

It had been the only thing she’d asked of him so far, and ultimately, it was his decision.

For her wellbeing, and for future negotiations it was important to maintain her trust.

Xant gave his answer with a small nod.

The Subject gave a sigh of relief, but she held the dataslate tightly, now focused on the surgery recording.

His task complete, Xant felt his time was better spent updating CMO Kyrdon on the minor alteration to the scheduled surgery.

-*-

Xant made his way down to the Medical wing, where he found CMO Krydon looking over the latest delivery, a rather large transportation tank.

“Ah, Dr Xant.” The Chief Medical officer grinned “I see you remembered how to find your own way here.” Xant didn't dignify him with a response, he wasn’t there for small talk, but for his research. Krydon mercifully moved onto the task at hand, tapping the large tank with his tail. “Everything is in order, the translator’s stable and ready for grafting, just waiting on your approval.”

Xant moved over to stand by the doctor’s side and gazed into the clear container.

Held inside was the last and greatest technological advancement of the Prosperity Dynasty.

The Zenthi Direct Frequency Translator.

Born from the original organs of his own species, the remarkable (organ) had the ability to directly transfer the exact electrical signals of one to another. To turn Frequency into audible sound, from thought into language. Throughout the galaxy, miscommunication was abolished, seemingly in a single cycle. New understanding and philosophy had flourished with it, concepts once lost behind years of education or experience could be shared with the greatest of ease.

But for all its wondrous joy, the device had also brought with it the greatest horrors.

Uncovering truths that could no longer be dismissed or ignored.

What was unthinkable to some was reality for others.

Even throughout the chaos, pain and death the translator had brought, its benefits outweighed it all.

The organic parts of the translator sat suspended in preservative gel and monitored by the container, it blinked steadily while nutrients and oxygen were supplied intravenously.

“The surgery shouldn’t take too long, even with the physical obstacles,” CMO Krydon told Xant. “ If all else fails we can simply try and fuse it into the concentrated nervous system going along its spine. Quite a resemblance to Zenthi physiology hmm?”

Xant inspected the diagrams the experienced surgeon had drawn up, it was extensive. The organ was to be placed with the groove of the split brain (pulled from the subjects own drawings) then attached to the ear canal before tapering down the base of the spine to the central nervous system. The calibrator to be secured on the outside of the skull, joining the strange alien to the greater network.

“The Subject is going to be co-operative?” Krydon asked.

“She will be unconscious for the procedure,” Xant replied. “On her own request.”

The old doctor snorted.

“Well,” he grumbled “It’s going to be rather difficult for me to give a precise installation, if the Subject is not conscious. The diagrams you included were rather crude.”

“I have reason to believe this will be the best course of action,” Xant explained as he handed back the dataslate. “Until we can can get further clarification on communication, I do not want to stress the Subject further.”

Krydon ran a tongue over his teeth, before shrugging. The last thing they needed was an unpredictable alien on board the station.

“I’ll have Pa prep the Subject, you are of course welcome to observe the surgery for Research purposes.”

-*-

The Subject hesitantly waited on the operating table as Pa, Kyrdon's Arvas assistant administered the depressors. She let out a mild hiss when the needle touched her skin, and another murmur when he had finished.

The Subject tried to converse with the attending assistant, but the depressors ensured she only made it halfway through the sentence before her entire body became limp. The blue eyes rolling into the back of her skull in a undignified manner.

“Subject is prepped for surgery” Pa announced over the comms.

Krydon licked his teeth.

“This would be quicker if it were awake.” He grumbled under his breath, adjusting his cybernetic eye for optimal settings.

Xant stood behind the medical wing’s monitor as he watched the surgery take place.

The Subject was positioned in a sitting up position, restrained so her head and body would not move. Pa had laid out the tools Krydon needed, and had the repair serums ready and waiting.

Nu, Krydon's technician, wheeled in the translators tank.

Xant watched the professionals experience at work.

Chems to slow the flow of fluids and dull the responses of nerves.

Cutting into the hard skull with ease and minimal organic spillage.

The brief pause to examine the alien brain and to calculate the best position to graft the new organ to its host.

Weaving of blood vessels, sewing of nerves and circuitry together in almost seamless instances, the long organ would fuse to the Subjects organic matter.

It would be as if it had always been there.

The alien took to the translator easily, without even the need for extra repair gel, the electronic broadcaster devices could not be squeezed into the skull however, and would have to be installed on the outside. Krydon threaded it through the ear canal, previous Rajavan excavating had provided a suitable outlet.

The entire procedure was completed in under 2 [hours], even quicker than Krydon had anticipated. The CMO had his assistants wheel the Subject to the patient recovery room while he and Nu began running the translator’s Frequency settings through its start up.

Xant watched on silently, mildly fascinated by the work involved.

“Now that we have the translator installed the Subject can now be added to the main system.”

Krydon tapped his claws over the main holoboard. An entire and thorough living map of the aliens body, each layer of the hologram was dedicated to a different portion of the body and truly showed exactly how much in excess the alien’s body was.

Krydon chuckled at the exuberance.

“It’s got enough nerve tissue to make [20] other citizens! I could remove half of them and I doubt it would notice the difference.”

The doctor shifted through the different layers muttering and criticizing every one of them.

“Poor filters, poor oxygen delivery, certainly a lot to improve. Vitals are strong however, very pronounced Frequency and good electrical signals…” The mutterings were for Krydon’s own records more than Xant’s benefit. Suddenly, the map lit up, the double lungs filled with oxygen and the blood flowed quicker, throbbing with activity.

Krydon turned to his colleague.

“I believe your Subject is awake.”

-*-

The Subject was already sitting up inside the recovery pod, investigating the several vital monitor cables connected into her arm.

A rather speedy recovery, he thought, as Xant could already feel the Subject’s Freq presence,

Krydon’s work as a surgeon spoke for itself.

He took a moment to analyse the Freq pulse she was giving out, bright, warm, and gentle.

It had a way of making him feel welcome in her presence, an auspicious start.

As Xant entered the room the Subject looked up and smiled at him, eyes locking onto his as she greeted him with that soft melody.

“[Polite/pleasant]()GreetingHelloProfessionalDoctorFriend.” The translator garbled all from only two words, but Xant was confident now their conversations would be far more informative.

He walked to her side and began removing the pods needle attachments, they were no longer needed.

“Hello Subject,” he replied.

Her blue eyes blinked rapidly in succession, then laughed.

“()[impressed/relieved] Iself reallyemphasis can[verb] understandacknowledge you[other]DoctorFriend…”

Once he had freed her from the pod’s restraints she slid off the recovery bed and began to stretch. Rubbing her arm and breathing deeply, bearing all her blunt teeth.

“As I can understand you, Subject.” Xant nodded his head, in response. The Subject stopped dead in her tracks and shook her head from side to side.

“Nowrong()” She replied, pointing to herself. “() SelfI[possessive] Nametitle Notisnt Subjectobjectstudy, (

)SelfI[possessive] Nametitle SweetFragrenceDelicateJasmineWhiteFloraFlower GracepoiseAnneBrightnessFavouriteofDeity

OldNameHoweFamilyEnglish”

Xant took a moment to comprehend the amount of information she squeezed into so few words,

he was quite surprised at how quickly her Freq reacted, a short, sharp burst of uncomfortable heat, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Certain words almost burned with importance.

The translator was probably still adjusting to her physiology.

“I understand you, Jasmine.” he repeated, “I am doctor Xant.”

The inclusion of his own name comforted the Subject, settling the burning with the gentle warmth from before.

“(

)ProfessionalDoctor FriendXant.” She mimicked, his name cascaded across her lips and into the air. “GreetingHello ProfessionalDoctor FriendXant.”

“Subject Jasmine,” Xant asked her “Do you believe you have recovered from surgery?”

Jasmine rubbed her arm once more and rolled her neck muscles.

“(Cautious) [possessive]Iself think so [affirmative]…”

Xant’s ears shuddered pleasantly, as he turned to exit the small patient room.

“Follow me subject Jasmine, we will need to further calibrate your Translator.”