622: Sudden Onset

by Fleur Le Marc
81028.16

The Morning After The Accident

-=Takesian Plains, Bajor=-

Vedek Delle knelt in prayer; awake, as usual before sunrise.

She kept startling herself each time she caught sight of her new robe out of the corner of her eye. She’d move her arm and glimpse the sleeve, or she’d observe the bright orange fabric swishing against the floor as she moved.

This would take some getting used to.

She couldn’t believe it when Jariel had given it to her last night, along with the official order from the Central Vedek Assembly bestowing the title upon her in place of her old one, Prylar.

She had long since given up on ever becoming a full Vedek.

She hadn’t been able to go back to complete the studies, or take the examinations and give the testimonies of faith before the committees that were required. But Jariel had written an impassioned plea begging the Assembly to credit her for the work she’d done, not only since the storms, but also over a lifetime of service.

He spoke of her in a way that made Delle blush. She did not expect any special consideration for simply doing her job, and she saw that job as caring for the people regardless of her title. That would never change.

Still, so impressed had the Assembly been that Camen’s words had indeed been prophetic in their own right- within a month of his arrival here, she was granted the full status and title of Vedek.

She would do just as he told her, and use the influence that came with that title for the good of the people. That she’d be able to do more to help them, and speak up for them, meant more to her than words could express.

She thought she heard him cough in the next room, and concluded her prayers quickly.

It was never a good sign around here when someone developed a cough, and she was in a hurry to find out what, if anything, was ailing young Jariel this morning.

As Camen staggered out of bed and dressed, he tried to tell himself that it was nothing.

Feeling first a little chilled, and then very warm all at once, he shuddered. His chest felt tight when he tried to breathe and upon trying to force a deep inhalation, he coughed involuntarily.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed to catch his breath, and had no idea how much time had passed when he heard Delle calling his name and asking if she could come in.

He found that his shirt was soaked with perspiration and he’d only just put it on.

*This was not good. *

“Camen, you’re not well.” It only took one look from the wizened woman to show her all she needed to see and more than she wanted to know.

She moved toward him in a most motherly fashion, applying the back of her hand to his forehead.

“You are burning up. Fleur said that you caught good and cold yesterday, it seems that you are paying the…wait,” she turned stark white, her eyes flying open. “Camen, have you ever had Vellat Fever?”

“Vellat Fever, are you joking?” He forced the words past chattering teeth. “Only children get that.”

“No, sadly, I’m absolutely serious.” She sighed. “Many of the children were just vaccinated for it, and in Bajoran adults who have not had the vaccine or the illness as a child,” She shook her head, “If you’re exposed to a newly vaccinated child, can catch it.”

“But…” he looked at her, “Wait,” he was having a hard time forming thoughts as his fever continued to rise.

“Tress was vaccinated, only days ago.” Delle shook her head. “That’s it. Straight to bed with you, I’ll send a medic around if I can find one that’s certain of their immunity.” Like Camen, many adults on the planet had grown up in the child welfare system; and even those whose families had survived the Occupation intact often had incomplete memories recording illnesses suffered in childhood.
“What about you?” He had spent the night in an empty room of her small home, still under construction. The structure had barely been roughed in, but it did have working fixtures in the bathroom-only completed two days ago- and a makeshift kitchen.

“I’ll have to go stay with Fleur. I had the Fever as a child but that was so many years ago, it is a risk to those my age.” Delle had to be at least sixty, and Camen felt horrible about the thought her health could be at risk because of him.

Hearing her name, another terrible thought occurred to him.

“Fleur?”

“She’s in no danger. Terrans are immune to Vellat Fever.”

Suddenly, the room began to swirl around Camen and he grabbed for the nearest wall. His stomach was churning, but the worst thing was the pain in his head and the burning of his skin and eyes.

“You must be watched over,” Delle insisted. “I’ll send someone.”

She had no doubt in her mind that a certain young Terran would volunteer for the task.

She helped him back to bed and then hurried to throw her few spare articles of clothing into a bag. “See you in about a week, Camen. You must rest, don’t try to exert yourself you’ll only make things worse.

Knowing he couldn’t fight if he wanted to, Camen fell back against the pillow, pulling the blanket up tighter around him as he closed his eyes, and fell into a fitful sleep.

-=Fleur’s kitchen=-

She dropped the ladle she was using to stir the hot breakfast cereal and stared at Delle.

“What did you say?”

“Camen has taken ill. I believe it’s a common childhood illness that has gained a foothold here since the storms with so little medical care available.”

Fleur was already untying her apron. “I must go to him,” she decided, before even hearing what it was he was suffering from, exactly. “Please Delle, you will have to care for Tress. Pace will help you. I must stay with him until he is well.”

“You don’t even know what’s wrong with him yet! Aren’t you afraid for your own sake?”

“No. Not at all.” Fleur began to gather up a few items to take with her from the kitchen. “He is all that matters.”

“You must truly love him, then.” Delle answered gently. She had never spoken of this openly to Fleur before, even though it was obvious just from the way the young woman looked at the handsome Vedek how she felt.

Fleur did not waste a second even trying to deny it.

“More than life.” She declared. A moment later she was gone.

“Wait! I’ll send a medic out, but if it’s what I think it is, you must wait the fever out. Try to keep him calm if you can, but don’t use any medications to treat him because they will only prolong the fever.” Delle warned through the window.

Fleur waved to indicate she’d heard, as she began to run at a good clip past buildings in progress, toward Delle’s small abode.

“Walk with the Prophets, Fleur Le Marc,” Vedek Delle whispered, next uttering words of prayer on behalf of Jariel Camen.

-=Later=-

The medic had spoken to Fleur through the door, looking in at Camen through the window.

He had left Fleur a tricorder to take his life sign readings with, but as contagious and unpredictable as Vellat Fever was, the man felt he could take no chances in coming in to examine the Jariel directly. He was needed by the masses here, until the new Starfleet doctor arrived to help; he had to stay healthy himself.

“The greatest risk to his health is injury if the fever causes a seizure. Do you know what to do if he has one?”

Fleur nodded grimly. She had been required to take basic first aid upon her assignment to the Serendipity, she had just never thought she’d have to rely on that knowledge for Camen’s sake.

“He should be all right, it just has to pass on its own. Keep him hydrated, and if he becomes unresponsive or combative, notify me right away.”

“How long should I expect the fever to last?”

“Could be as long as four days, usually, it’s somewhere around sixty hours or so from onset. You don’t have to worry about catching it yourself-“

“I’m not worried.”

“…because you’re not Bajoran.” The man clarified, finishing his statement. “You do however still require rest or you could come down with something else. So be sure you’re eating and sleeping as well.”

“Yes, yes. I understand.” Fleur tapped her foot, anxious to begin watching over him.

“Walk with the Prophets,” The man said as he turned back to the road. “I’ll check in with you later, in the meantime if you need me use the communicator I gave you.”

“Merci.”

As the man disappeared, Fleur suddenly felt very nervous, and very alone. She was afraid now to walk into the other room, terrified of seeing him this way.

She found he was restless in his sleep, tossing and turning and mumbling softly as he shook beneath the blanket.

The first thing Fleur did was search out another blanket, draping it over him.

She knelt down beside his cot, and spoke his name.

Jariel struggled to open his stinging eyes and looked at her as if in a dream.

“I am right here, Camen, and I will not leave you.” She was shocked by just how hot his skin felt when she brushed her hand against his cheek.

“I will never leave you.”

Fleur Le Marc
On Bajor