video;

[procedures]

[ His is a familiar face, if a lot more groomed in terms of facial hair. Alva's wearing the medbay colors, the gold bar on his clothes visible against a borrowed coat, as well as a serious look on his face. He's got his arms crossed too, with the sleeves pulled a third of the way up. ]

Just to get it out of the way first, my name's Alva. I'm not Rogers or Gant. I'm not related to them. I don't have a surname, and I don't have superpowers. That's not the point of this video, though.

Currently I'm assigned to the Medbay as a physician. No specialty, I'm assuming. But before I came on board this ship, I was working as a lab tech at a medical facility where part of my duties included taking care of specific— ["Patients"? Val's not a patient; he was born in the labs. ] Wards, as individuals or as groups, depends on the need. I guess you could say I was also a nurse, of a sort.

My point is— one of my wards is here. His name is Valarie Milos. [ He raises picture of Val, printed out, to the camera. ] I believe some of you have met him.

So you're probably wondering, "why does a young man like him need a nurse for?" He isn't that old. He's only six. I've been looking after him since he was small, and as I've not been reassigned from that duty, I'm going to continue doing so on this ship. Please don't give him any alcohol, any sweets, anything spicy. He'll make himself sick. He is not, under any circumstances, supposed to lift anything heavier than ten kilos in weight. If you find him injured or hurt in any way, please contact me immediately.

And please don't give him any more cats.

—On a related note, if anyone has any specific allergies, please let us at the medbay know. At your convenience, but preferably sooner than later. We're trying to assess how much anti-allergens we have on hand relative to the ship's population, but some of the data seems a little out of date.

Thank you.

Comments

[prorenataa]

[ Oy! Err... okay point on the nerd bit. ]

Excuse? [ Oh my Fates! His cat does not act as his sitter! Except he does. ] I am a perfectly capable adult, thank you.

[ Stop laughing. ]

Patented genetics? [ Has he ever heard of such a thing? Adrien casts his mind back but nothing is ringing a bell. Who patents genetics? ]

[procedures]

It's a reality where we're from. Scientific progress in the name of the survival of the species. Something like that.

[ It's not a conversation Alva would want to have out in public, is the thing. ]

[prorenataa]

[ Adrien gives it a moment thought and then gives his head a small shake. ]

And I thought what humanity had done to my version of Earth was bad. [ However, agreed. Not the place for this kind of discussion. ]

Some of the species on board this ship may want to keep certain aspects of their physiology between just themselves and medical. We can do our best to accommodate that while balancing the need to ensure the health of the entire crew.

We're all on this tin can together.

[procedures]

That we are. Mice in a cage.

[ It was a joke people still laughed at, even if it had stopped being funny centuries ago. Alva mentions it just for the reminder not to be complacent. ]

If you'd prefer, for the privacy of the crew on the whole, I can excuse myself from handling sensitive information that requires more discretion than most. Call it a personal handicap.

[prorenataa]

[ Complacency was not an issue. Though Adrien had his own demons driving him, only barely understanding Alva's and Andyr's.

For the time being, however, he simply shook his head. ]

You're a physician, the same as I am. Personal preference doesn't enter into the equation.