[Darkness and water and cold - so much cold. Phoenix's head throbs and his lungs burn-

-don't breathe-

-there's no sense of up or down. Instinct tells him he needs to move, but he can barely make his limbs respond. Especially his arm. It hurts-

-ignore it--his thoughts spin and fade ( Read more... )

[Phoenix's comm clicks on just in time to catch a hiss of pain and muffled curse.]

Ouch! Mar damnit...

[There's a faint rustling of cloth and another soft hiss before Phoenix finally picks up his comm.]It occurs to me that I don't think I've heard anyone on this ship complain of coming down ill. Injured, drunk, inflicted with all manner of ( Read more... )