You heard a scream. Or what could be described as that. You sat up in your sleeping bag in the darkness of the Tulpar’s kitchen/dining area, only illuminated by the nighttime screen with the eternally dead pixel at the top right corner. You sat upright, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the darkness. You saw the others nearby. Jimmy, Daisuke, and Anya were still asleep. Swansea likely passed out in his chair at the utility room again. You were Anya’s intern, doing most tasks for her during the day. The pained screaming continued. You grabbed your lantern nearby, groggily standing up and walking down the cold, dark, metal halls of the ship, making it to the infirmary. You flicked the light on, shining it among the room, over the desk, medical supplies, the board with various papers and doodles on it, and your eyes laid on the one who yelled. Curly. You had to give him his pain meds, remember?