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Brooks had seen the altercation as they had approached and increased his speed to get there sooner.
He had heard Iago burst out his angry refusal, heard Pirra’s calmness, and now that they stared at him, he finally noticed the newcomer.
Or, really, the old face.
“Cassandra?” he said, eyes widening.
“Yes, Captain,” she said. “I am alive.”
Brooks’s eyes went to Iago, asking without speaking.
“I don’t know Captain. But she is alive, and we just . . . we want to come back onto the ship.”
“It was a miracle of the Infinite,” Cassandra said.
Urle’s eyes snapped to her at that, but he did not speak.
“Captain, she doesn’t have a system,” Pirra said. “I’ve been trying to tell Mr. Caraval that we have to confirm her identity.”
“Have you tried a DNA test?” Brooks asked.
“I had not yet gotten the chance, sir.”
Brooks nodded. “Order it done. If that confirms her identity, then we will allow her a provisional boarding pass-“
“Sir-!” Iago protested.
Brooks stared at him. “. . . until we can use other methods to confirm her identity. Hopefully within a day or two she can once again be a permanent member of the ship’s population.”
Iago went, in a heartbeat, back to pleasant. He rubbed the back of his head. “My apologies, Captain. I’m a little keyed up.”
“It seems so,” Brooks said. “Perhaps understandably.”
Pirra spoke. “I have ordered the test. The drone will be here in a moment.”
“Good. While your ID is provisional, Cassandra, I imagine you won’t mind if you have a drone following you?” Brooks asked her.
“No, that is all right,” she said.
Urle cleared his throat and looked to Kell. “Ambassador . . . do you have an opinion on this situation?” he asked.
All eyes went to Kell, but the being did not seem to be really looking at any of them – or anything. His eyes were glazed over.
He said nothing, and Urle leaned closer.
“Ambassador? Are you all right-“
“No,” Kell said brusquely, suddenly. “I have no opinion. Excuse me.”
He stepped through the group, passing onto the ship.
Urle let out a breath.
Brooks gestured him on. “Go to a debriefing room, I’ll meet you there shortly.”
“Aye, sir.”
Brooks waited until the medical drone arrived. Cassandra nervously held her hand out to it, and it merely touched her lightly.
It pinged quickly.
“Identify match. This is Mary Cassandra Caraval,” it chirped.
Brooks was not sure what to make of this, but looking over the woman, over Elliot and Iago . . .
He could not think of a reasosn to stop this.
“All right,” he said. “Welcome back, Cassandra.”
Iago beamed, and Pirra frowned, her crest flat. She stepped aside to let them through.
Other Terrestrial 
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