"Lost in Universal Translation" By Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t make money off ‘em. Genre: Angst/Mystery - Sato, H., Reed/Sato, TnT Description: What happens when you suddenly can't communicate with those around you? Not only have you lost the ability to speak, but to understand and to write as well. There is more than one way to get a message across, as we'll find out. Author's Notes: Please leave a review! Thanks! One The first thing she felt was the pain. The biting cold wasn't too far behind. She opened her eyes to see a close-up view of the instrument panel, cold and lifeless like the space beyond the viewscreen. Her sluggish brain tried to remember what had happened, but everything was all a chaotic blur. Who was she? What was she doing here? What had happened? Was there anyone else with her? It was silent all around her; she missed the hum of engines, the chatter of the flight computer, the hearty laugh of her teammates... Who were they? Images surfaced, but hovered just beyond recognition. She grasped at the memories, but they floated just beyond reach. A choked sob rumbled deep within her throat, but it hurt too much to let it out. It hurt, just to breathe, just to stay conscious. It would be easy to sink back into oblivion, but some strange urgency kept her here, and wouldn't allow her into the shadows. Something important, something that was a matter of life or death, but what was it? Then a gentle hand dropped on her arm, a feather-light touch that was both commanding and reassuring at the same time. A voice spoke, but it was not her language, and it sounded strange to her tried to reply, but her mouth was too dry. Who are you? What's happened? Where am I? More gentle hands manipulated her body, lifted her from the twisted and mangled remains of her seat, and laid her on the floor of the shuttle...Ah, that's where I am. I'm in a shuttle? I was going somewhere, but where? She heard the hum of machinery, then more voices in that strange, but melodic language. Her sharp ears detected variation in some of those voices...so whoever these saviors were, they were obviously not from the same place. Her mind idly tried to identify those variations, but without any frame of reference, save her own limited one, she couldn't tell whether one was the standard version over another. Still, the sounds comforted her and reassured her of one fact: she was still alive. Again, a voice asked her questions that she couldn't understand. Her throat tightened with frustration; if she could only comprehend what was being asked, she could give the correct answer! The sense of urgency increased...it became crucial that she told them that...that... What? She couldn't remember. Desperately, she racked her brain for the words, but couldn't find them. Then strong arms lifted her up and cradled her against soft fabric; she turned her head so her cheek rested on the fabric and she heard a rhythmic melody: lub-dub, lub-dub. The soothing pattern lulled her to sleep, and the last thought she had was how she felt safe and protected. She was in a jungle. At least, it sounded as if she was in a jungle: squawks and hums, beating wings and clicking claws against metal. Yet the air around her felt cool on her skin. This had to be the strangest jungle in the universe, or the climate controls were malfunctioning again. A hypospray hissed against her neck. At least, that was one sound she recognized without any trouble. Then she opened her eyes and saw an unfamiliar face: hair parted on either side of the top of his head by ridges, blue eyes that looked at her with compassion and concern, an impossibly wide grin that split his face in two. He spoke in a soothing tone, but the words made no sense to her at all. When she didn't respond, the smile vanished and he repeated what he said, but to her mind, the tones all ran together in a mix of gibberish. There was no distinction among the sounds; even the intonation seemed wrong. She shook her head and said, “I'm sorry, I don't understand you at all. Who are you?” That was what she thought she said, but the other person's frown only deepened. So she tried again, “I don't speak your language. I'm sorry.” There was no response; she felt a stab of frustration as she tried to make herself understood. Finally, she only lifted her hands and shrugged her shoulders. That seemed to get the point across, for the man's expression softened. He reached over and squeezed her wrist in a “stay here” gesture, then crossed the room to a speaker in a wall. She listened as she talked to someone else, frantically searching her memory for the meaning behind the words, and finding none. A wave of fear paralyzed her throat. Where am I? And why can't I understand what he said? Some time later, the doors hissed open and others walked into the room. They weren't like the first man, the doctor (she guessed his function on board this strange ship when he gave her more medicine through a hypospray). Their faces were different: no ridges, different colored eyes, different heights. The one in the lead held himself straight and tall; this man was born to command. A whole slew of emotions flashed across his face: dread, fear, sympathy. “I know you,” she said, “but I can't remember your name.” The sound of her voice startled him. He looked over to the doctor, but the doctor said nothing. Then he looked back at her and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. That was how she interpreted his tone, for he spoke that odd language too. She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she listened to the sounds and tried to associate them with anything familiar. Unfortunately, her mind drew a blank. So this is like some sort of code, she reasoned. A completely new language that I've never heard before. It's harsh and musical at the same time. Quite expressive and it seems to have many variations among its speakers. The sense of urgency returned...she must learn this new tongue as quickly as possible, she must make herself understood among the members of this new species. There was something she had to tell them... Movement out of the corner of her eye alarmed her and her head snapped in that direction. There was a third man in the room, but he'd kept himself so still that he hadn't noticed him until now. The expression on his face was carefully neutral, but the emotions shone within his eyes. The intensity of the gaze frightened her, but she couldn't look away. With an effort, she managed to refocus her attention of the tall, brown-haired man who was now in hushed conversation with the doctor. The doctor nodded, then he stepped forward again. He raised his hand and tapped his chest and said, “Phlox.” She felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. His name! He told me his name! In response, she began to mimic the gesture, but froze when she realized, What is my name? I don't even know who I am! The quiet man came to her rescue. He gently took her hand and placed it on her chest and said something. Huh-sh-ee. Is that my name? She repeated it, slowly and tentatively, letting it roll off her tongue. No, that didn't sound quite right...she repeated it, trying to copy the exact sounds, but it took an effort to wrap her mouth around them. Finally, she got it just right. Hoh-shee. A thrill of happiness went through her...she'd managed to make herself understood! The man smiled, but it held a touch of sadness and she wondered at it. She refused to dwell on that. Instead, she took his hand and placed it on his chest. He nodded and said a word that she knew was his name. Mah-kul-mu. It was full of unfamiliar sounds, more difficult than her own name, and no matter how many times she repeated it, she couldn't get it exactly right. Tears of frustration filled her eyes, but then he only shook his head and said something else along the lines of, Don't worry, you'll get it. Oddly enough, she found herself believing him. The brown-haired “leader” (as she mentally dubbed him) was “Jhonn”. She repeated the three names to herself like a mantra. It seemed like an innocuous beginning, but just being able to trade names was a big step forward in getting to know these people. If she could find out what had happened to her, then the missing pieces of the puzzle would fall into place. Or so she hoped. She had a feeling that the universe depended on it. Continue to Part 2

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