Arjen, on the Hermnaen, was too busy to relax. There were vehicles approaching, white ones marked with the scarlet cross and crescent that distinguished human medical equipment. He called sickbay and reached Dr. Jason. "Vehicles are for your people coming, Doctor. Your patients will first off-loaded be, if they ready are."
"They're ready," a tired-looking Jason said. "Can you send the medics here—and keep the newsies out?"
"Of course," Arjen replied. "The Marines will that insure, Lord Esteban says, and the patients will be to the Palace medical unit taken."
"The Palace medcenter?" Jason sighed, looking less tired. "That's a relief; it's probably the best hospital in the Empire. Did he say anything about the rest of us?"
"You will be to regional facilities for checks taken, Bethesda and one I find hard to say."
"Akademgorod?" Dr. Jason asked, his expression suddenly eager.
"Yes. Your families are being there taken, and after you fully checked are, you will be with them reunited." Arjen smiled himself at that thought. "I hope you all of yours well find."
"Thanks. But if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to work."
"As do I." Arjen cut the circuit.
In the Palace, the Throne Room doors began to swing open and a fanfare sounded. "Okay, here we go," Tarlac said. "Remember, don't kneel when you're presented, even if some of the courtiers do. You're not part of the nobility."