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© 2024 by Walter Reimer
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Varan g’Raf sat in her office on Bōank and tried to concentrate on the mundane paperwork that constitutes most of the work performed by the captain of a warship. Tried to concentrate because worries about how Vesan was doing nagged at her.
The concern for her friend and lover was quite distracting.
Her ears stirred as she glared at the latest report from the Weapons Division commander. A pause, and she heard the chime again.
Aka, the intercom. She hadn’t been hearing things. “G’Raf here,” she said.
“Communications, Ma’am,” the kam said. “I’ve received a realtime transmission for you personally.”
“Thank you. My office, please,” and she sat back as the desk’s holographic display activated to show a vir in civilian clothes. “I am Captain g’Raf,” Varan said. “May I help you?”
The vir smiled. “I am Surgeon-mistress Vethar j’Kiva, Captain. Admiral k’Daridh is my patient.”
Varan quickly tamped down the smile that threatened to blossom like a zh’rekk bush. “Yes? How is she, Viyēakh?” she asked, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.
J’Kiva smiled. “Her brothers have asked me to breach privacy to inform you that the procedure was successful. Admiral k’Daridh should no longer suffer seizures.”
“That is very good news. And . . . her memories?” Varan saw j’Kiva hesitate she asked, “How bad was it?”
The surgeon’s ears went back. “My team and her family are still testing her memory, but she did not recognize your name at first.”
Briefly, before she realized it, Varan’s hand passed over her eyes. “So, she has forgotten me.”
J’Kiva’s tail gestured. “We are unsure. Some of her memories are intact, although stripped of their associational links and triggers. In order to confirm your presence in her memories, I require two things from you.”
“Name them.”
“One, a brief statement from you, accompanied by your image. You two are lovers?” Varan gestured affirmatively. “Both clothed and unclothed, please.”
“Very well. And the second?”
The surgeon smiled slightly. “The second item cannot be transmitted by hypercommsat. Memories are linked and tagged by combinations of sensory inputs. Since you two were lovers, I request that you masturbate and send a sterile packet containing a sample of your secretions to the address I am transmitting.”
“I’ll see to it at once,” Varan said. “Thank you for contacting me, Surgeon-mistress.”
“Narchak, Gartabin-vī.”
For a fraction or two after the display vanished, Varan sat looking unseeingly at the reports on her desk. Her tail snaked around and the bony tailspur touched the intercom. “Yes, Ma’am?” her Command-Second asked.
“I am going to take a short break, Tabin. I’ll be in my quarters.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
© 2024 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
rabbi-tomVaran g’Raf sat in her office on Bōank and tried to concentrate on the mundane paperwork that constitutes most of the work performed by the captain of a warship. Tried to concentrate because worries about how Vesan was doing nagged at her.
The concern for her friend and lover was quite distracting.
Her ears stirred as she glared at the latest report from the Weapons Division commander. A pause, and she heard the chime again.
Aka, the intercom. She hadn’t been hearing things. “G’Raf here,” she said.
“Communications, Ma’am,” the kam said. “I’ve received a realtime transmission for you personally.”
“Thank you. My office, please,” and she sat back as the desk’s holographic display activated to show a vir in civilian clothes. “I am Captain g’Raf,” Varan said. “May I help you?”
The vir smiled. “I am Surgeon-mistress Vethar j’Kiva, Captain. Admiral k’Daridh is my patient.”
Varan quickly tamped down the smile that threatened to blossom like a zh’rekk bush. “Yes? How is she, Viyēakh?” she asked, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.
J’Kiva smiled. “Her brothers have asked me to breach privacy to inform you that the procedure was successful. Admiral k’Daridh should no longer suffer seizures.”
“That is very good news. And . . . her memories?” Varan saw j’Kiva hesitate she asked, “How bad was it?”
The surgeon’s ears went back. “My team and her family are still testing her memory, but she did not recognize your name at first.”
Briefly, before she realized it, Varan’s hand passed over her eyes. “So, she has forgotten me.”
J’Kiva’s tail gestured. “We are unsure. Some of her memories are intact, although stripped of their associational links and triggers. In order to confirm your presence in her memories, I require two things from you.”
“Name them.”
“One, a brief statement from you, accompanied by your image. You two are lovers?” Varan gestured affirmatively. “Both clothed and unclothed, please.”
“Very well. And the second?”
The surgeon smiled slightly. “The second item cannot be transmitted by hypercommsat. Memories are linked and tagged by combinations of sensory inputs. Since you two were lovers, I request that you masturbate and send a sterile packet containing a sample of your secretions to the address I am transmitting.”
“I’ll see to it at once,” Varan said. “Thank you for contacting me, Surgeon-mistress.”
“Narchak, Gartabin-vī.”
For a fraction or two after the display vanished, Varan sat looking unseeingly at the reports on her desk. Her tail snaked around and the bony tailspur touched the intercom. “Yes, Ma’am?” her Command-Second asked.
“I am going to take a short break, Tabin. I’ll be in my quarters.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Alien (Other)
Size 71 x 120px
File Size 46 kB
Listed in Folders
To the point that she'd rather die than lose her memories. Trauma got her in this mess, sometimes a little trauma is needed to get back out.
Hmm, haven't had it done it myself, but I've been told the only thing worse than dislocating a shoulder is having it popped back into place. Thinking about it like that might help you follow my line of thought.
Or have you ever had an 'OH - SHIT' moment give you a flashback to some of your past 'oh - shit' memories you'd forgotten all about (or thought you'd managed to bury away forever?)
Hmm, haven't had it done it myself, but I've been told the only thing worse than dislocating a shoulder is having it popped back into place. Thinking about it like that might help you follow my line of thought.
Or have you ever had an 'OH - SHIT' moment give you a flashback to some of your past 'oh - shit' memories you'd forgotten all about (or thought you'd managed to bury away forever?)
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