Comet
by feldman
Aeryn marches directly to the detritus chute before she speaks. "D'Argo said you had something for nausea."
Noranti nods, already compiling the list of parameters: early stage pregnancy, previous parapheral nerve damage, willing to shoot over unpleasant side-effects. The formula she's compiled for the rest of the crew won't be suitable. "Simple nausea or are you also vomiting?"
At the word Aeryn pales, braces against the wall and ejects a violent gush. She pants and wipes at her mouth, all white knuckles and cold skin.
Noranti licks her lips, compounding
ingredients in her mind. "Come back in a quarter arn."