<span style="font-weight: bold">Donâ€™t have shot my computer. Please donâ€™t have hurt the chimpâ€¦ </span>But what else was there for her to be firing at in there?<span style="font-weight: bold">Iâ€™ll never get it fixed if sheâ€™s shot at it. Itâ€™s not the chimpâ€™s fault, it was only broken.</span>Somehow he knew his pleas to the invisible spirits of computer well-being were going to be unheeded. He was prepared instead to chew Zilah out for having irreparably damaged his AIâ€™s processor.<br/><br/>The door scraped open the rest of the way and his preparation went out the window when she stumbled out and collapsed against him. Quen tried his best to juggle her and the closing of the door so that the rest of their air wouldnâ€™t escape. Somehow he still had to turn the scrubbers and the airflow back on.<br/><br/>He didnâ€™t understand what sheâ€™d said, but that didnâ€™t make a difference. If she hadnâ€™t been in there for too long, she would be alright soon enough. If she had, there wasnâ€™t anything he could do about it. It felt useless when all he could do was wait.<br/><br/>With the door locked, he carried her to his bunk. Only because the med-bay door was still locked and he doubted his ability to get it open at the moment. He dumped her on his bed, careful enough only to be sure she didnâ€™t fall off or hit her head. After a seconds consideration, he pried the gun from her and searched her for that last knife.<br/><br/>It looked like the skin around her eyes had started to get a bit red and a little puffy, but that could have been almost anything. And anyway, he wasnâ€™t going to take off the mask until heâ€™d gotten the airflow back and could say with some certainty that the gas in the corridor had dissipated.<br/><br/>The most important thing was, he was still alive. Alive! â€œChi-â€ he started, then remembered he didnâ€™t have the chimp anymore. If heâ€™d thought he was lonely before, that realization made it even worse. What was more, heâ€™d have to turn everything on himself.<br/><br/>Down to the engine room it was then. With only a few switches everything turned over to repair mode, the vents kicked on and the background hum of the scrubbers started up again.<br/><br/>Hopefully Zilah was awake. He wasnâ€™t sure why he wanted that. Things would probably be easier if she wasnâ€™t. Quen pulled the bunk door shut behind him and dropped his helmet to the floor. The air was still a little thin, but anything was better than wearing this suit for any longer than he had to.<br/><br/>The tense, relieved laughter started up moments after and he found he couldnâ€™t just stop. There was nothing funny about any of it. But it felt wonderful to still be alive. He sucked in a breath and dragged a bottle free from its compartment next to his bed. â€œIsa always said that a man shouldnâ€™t brave the dark without a good vintage on his side.â€<br/><br/>His glance drifted from the unlabeled glass bottle to Zilah, wondering if she thought he was crazy now. â€œWe should celebrate.â€ As much as he knew it was not a good idea, it wasnâ€™t as if he was just going to throw her back in the brig. It wasnâ€™t much of a celebration alone, now was it? â€œEver had this? Good olâ€™ Earth whiskey; not that Martian stuff they try to pass off outside Sol System,â€ he made sure to inform her, while peeling loose his suit. Heâ€™d always hated the thing. It might have been top of the line, but that didnâ€™t prevent it from being annoyingly clingy after not so very long.