Operative A jolted awake with pain with a yelp. His body had been healed
somehow, in a manner he couldn't recall, but the healing was incomplete,
and there would still be pain for another day or two, but that, too, would
pass. He remembered Kain and a surge of panic coursed through him. He shoved
it back down before it overtook him. He was a trained operative and he was
*not* going to panic. He was also not going to heal very well without
medical supervision. He had a difficult choice to make now. It would be
more honorable to see a doctor who treated people, but his injuries had
been quite severe and now was *not* the time for worrying about his ego. He
realized, much to his chagrine, that the best doctor for him to see would
be a veterinarian.
He forced himself to walk to the nearest payphone which, fortunately had
a book at it. Searching it, he found the address of the vet and made his 
way there. He passed many people on the way,  few realized what he was, 
but most of these simply decided this wasn't something they wanted to
deal with and went about their business.
An elderly woman saw him and, surprisingly, smiled.
 "You need  help, youngster?" She asked.
He stared at her.
 "Can you speak?"
 "Of course," He snarked, bitterly. "just because I look like..." he trailed
off as she pulled a first aid kit out of her bag and got some antiseptic.
 "You're not allergic to this are you?" She showed him the bottle.
 He quickly translated the label and shook his head. "No." he replied.
 "I wasn't implying anything about your species, by the way." she told him
 as she took care of one of his wounds right there. No sense in waiting,
 she told herself, it could get infected. "I was just making sure you weren't
 in shock. And there's the possibility  your species might have lost the 
 abiity to speak in favor of telepathy."
 Trakal nodded. "I'm sorry." He felt very embarrassed.
 The woman smiled. "Okay, come on."
 Trakal blinked.
 "I want to keep you at my place of a couple of days for observation.
 Trakal backed up, shaking his head, and was so intent on the woman, whom he
 was sure had ulterior motives (no one was *ever* *THAT* nice to him when he
 was unmasked) that he didn't see the car until it hit him.
 
 Pain.
 Trakal screamed as it slammed him awake. This is getting annoying, part
 of him snarked, inwardly. Why can I for *once* be woken up by something
 pleasant. Like maybe someone singing something nice to me? 
 A woman's voice called out for a product he didn't recognize. It had a 
 medical-soundng name and he hoped it was a painkiller.