"Υπολοχαγός Kara Thrace, αυξανόμενος αριθμός πέντε δύο δύο έξι τριών πέντε τεσσάρων επτά τριών από το αστέρι Galactica μάχης." the woman on the stretcher woke up to gasp out at the medical team as they pulled her from her ship. One of the techs had already cut through her suit to get at her arms to run an IV "Πάρτε τους Θεούς σας καταδίκασε τα χέρια από με" the woman groaned as the tech found the vein.

Another tech was cutting through her boots and someone was giving her a quick head to toe looking for obvious injuries. The chief technician, a woman,got in the strange pilot's line of vision and spoke soothingly, "It's all right. We're just looking for injuries." she smiled at the woman hoping to calm her.

The woman only gasped out something else that no one could understand. One of the other techs tried German, then Vietnamese.

The patient was becoming combative, although she had no strength for it. She tried in vain to push the hands that were putting an 02 mask over her face away, "Υπολοχαγός Kara Thrace, αυξανόμενος αριθμός πέντε δύο δύο έξι τριών πέντε τεσσάρων επτά τριών από το αστέρι Galactica μάχης." she said again, more loudly. She flailed and tried to pull the IV out of her arm. before someone gave her a sedative.

Although her words were unintelligible, her tone was obvious. She was convinced that she was in, at the very least, unfriendly hands. Given the damage to her ship, this was understandable. She was a mess. Stephen Franklin was not entirely sure how she'd made it here alive. Her ship had triggered the automatic jump gate sequence and one of the star fury pilots had had to throw grapple lines onto her ship to grab it. They'd tried to signal her, but she'd been unconcious.

From all the readings they could get though, she was human. Nothing was odd about her at all, except the design of her scorched ship was completely foreign and Franklin wasn't even sure what language she was speaking. She was fighting the sedatives too.

"Dr. Stephen Franklin. Notes on new patient." he said loudly to activate the recorder as he examined the blond woman, "Patient is female. Caucasian. Mid to late twenties. Approximately 1.65 meters. No signs of obvious trauma." his technicians had ruled out most injuries and the medlab diagnostics had shown no internal bleeding, fractures or contusions.

Although she looked little banged up, it was no more than any pilot who'd had a rough landing. "Patient shows dehydration, signs of long term exposure to low O2 environment and cold temperatures. Findings are consistent with pilot operating with minimal life support to save ship power. Patient also appears underweight, with evidence of..." he broke off as she stirred and sluggishly opened her eyes, "Stop recording."

She looked at him with sleepy blue eyes, apparently not understanding who he was. Her blond eyebrows drew together in a frown as she muttered something. She tried to lift her hand and discovered it was still strapped to the cot. She looked at him with blazing eyes. She said something venemously and he hurried to her side. He kept his hands in her sight knowing what traumatized pilots could be like, "All right. It's all right, we just didn't want your hands to hit the doors as you came in." he said soothingly as he unbuckled the strap that held her onto the cot, then lifted his hands away from her, holding them at shoulder height with their palms out.

She looked around the room, saw the IV in her hand and tried again to pull it out. Franklin gently put his hand on hers. She was so weak that this was all it took to prevent her, but when he touched her, she looked at him with her face full of terror and anger. Her voice was cold and deadly quiet.

"I'm sorry," he said, as gently as he could, "I can't let you do that. You're dehydrated." she was shaking and he hoped she understood his tone as well as he understood hers.

She spat in his face.

Franklin really, really hoped she didn't have anything communicable as he wiped off his face. He backed off to give the woman the space she obviously needed. She was too weak to move, but nonetheless Franklin kept his eye on her, having had another of this type go AWOL when he'd been, "too weak to move." Tapping his link Franklin said, "Medlab to Garibaldi."

A pause then, "Garibaldi. Go."

"Our new guest is awake. You'll want a translation team with you. She doesn't give any evidence of speaking English." Franklin was watching the medlab moniter on the woman's cot. The woman's brain activity gave no sign that she understood his words at all.

"Does she have any Italian?" Garibaldi asked, in Italian.

Not a twitch from the monitor, "Nope." said Franklin.

"All right," Garibaldi switched back to English, "I'll round up a crew and we'll be there as soon as we can."

"Yeah, I want to be able to talk to her as soon as possible. She looks like she wants some explanations." the woman wouldn't stop staring at him, except when she was checking around the room.

Franklin moved back towards the woman, but not within spitting distance this time, "I'm Stephen Franklin." he said pointing to himself.

She looked at him coldly, then smiled a mirthless little smile. She shook her head as though she found something bitterly funny, "Υπολοχαγός Kara Thrace, αυξανόμενος αριθμός πέντε δύο δύο έξι τριών πέντε τεσσάρων επτά τριών από το αστέρι Galactica μάχης."

Frankilin shook his head, pointed again, "Franklin."

"Υπολοχαγός Kara Thrace, αυξανόμενος αριθμός πέντε δύο δύο έξι τριών πέντε τεσσάρων επτά τριών από το αστέρι Galactica μάχης." the woman repeated, staring at point on the wall in front of her, then she muttered something else to herself.

Franklin sighed, hoping that the translators would get here soon.

"Stephen?" Franklin turned to see Ivanova walk in through the medlab door, "What's going on with our guest? Garibaldi said I should drop by."

The blond woman's eyes narrowed, watching Susan warily.

"We can't talk to her. We don't know what language she's speaking." explained Franklin, "And she's really, really unhappy to be here. Have they checked out her ship, yet?"

Ivanova nodded, "Yes, and that's just making it worse. We can't identify where it comes from or who built it. The outer markings have all been burned off and we can't just rip it part looking for serial numbers."

"Think its illegal?"

"Probably." sighed Ivanova, "But at the moment, I don't have to give a good goddamn about catching anyone for breaking Earth's rules."

The brain scan behind the woman spiked red amidst the general colors of brain activity, signaling a trace of subconcious recognition, although the woman's face didn't move.

"Huh, so she understands something you said." Franklin commented.

"Oh, thats helpful." said Ivanova sarcastically, "Now we just have to play twenty questions."

"Well, what do you speak, other than English?" asked Franklin irritably.

"Russian, Hebrew, French, Greek and enough Minbari to say 'continuous fire'" replied Ivanova, seriously

"Well, try them."

Ivanova stepped toward the woman, "Говорите ли вы русский?"

The woman looked at Ivanova and said in a measured voice, "Υπολοχαγός Kara Thrace, αυξανόμενος αριθμός πέντε δύο δύο έξι τριών πέντε τεσσάρων επτά τριών από το αστέρι Galactica μάχης."

Ivanova stared at the woman for a long time, then she replied in a long slow phrase to the the woman that Franklin thought sounded similiar. The woman spat again, onto the floor this time, then said something defiantly to Ivanova. Then she repeated her stock phrase again, "Υπολοχαγός Kara Thrace, αυξανόμενος αριθμός πέντε δύο δύο έξι τριών πέντε τεσσάρων επτά τριών από το αστέρι Galactica μάχης"

"I think," Ivanova said slowly, "She's speaking Greek, but the dialect is like nothing I've ever heard. She thinks we've taken her prisoner."

"Have we?" ased Franklin seriously. If she were dangerous...

Ivanova shook her head wonderingly, "I suppose we better ask the Captain. She says her name is Kara Thrace, she just gave me her serial number and she's from something called a battlestar."