Shiki had finally found some time to check out the media library. Scouring the collection, he desperately sought for any hints on how to cure the blood thirst of vampires. A certain blonde-haired True Ancestor filled his thoughts as he sighed from his longing to be by her side. Even before the events of waking up covered in slime, the woman he loved was forced to sleep somewhere far away; she dreamed of their time together when she still had control over her thirst.

His mood continued to sour as nothing he looked at could offer any help. Alone in the library, he let his cheerful exterior go as his longing for Arcueid became almost unbearable.

 it didn't take long for Nanashi to get to Sam's lab. She moved at normal speed, brushing past any of the slower residents of the ship. She stopped at the door, and knocked  before venturing in.

She looked rather upset as she walked in, but more hurt than angry.

The Jedi Temple rumbled as a portion of it threatened to collapse inwards.

"Why would THAT be a load-bearing wall?" Aibghalien demanded of thin air as he hurriedly cast a wall of force exactly flush with the ceiling above the slightly-smoking remains of the disintegrated wall. The magical force promptly shouldered the entire weight of the countless pounds above it, in efficient and good-natured violation of the laws of physics.

Satisfied that the wall would hold, Aibghalien, with magical passes and invocations, laid down several more walls of force over the walls and floor of the single room he'd cut out of three. About a hundred and fifty by a hundred and eighty feet, it seemed extraordinarily large while entirely empty. A lesser wizard might have worried that it was simply too large; Aibghalien wondered if he'd allotted himself enough space. Still, he didn't want to be greedy.

As he reached the last wall, he drew from his robes a crystal, which went dark and lifeless as he drew from it the power to fuel the spell. He frowned, then tucked it away for later recharging, once he could set up the proper devices to do so.

Gritting his teeth against the drain of strength and energy, Aibghalien laboriously laid permanency spells over each of the walls. Exhausting as this was, his time on the ship alone had given him more than enough strength to lay these spells; within a minute, though appearing utterly unchanged to the average viewer, the room had been sealed on five of six surfaces with two-dimensional walls utterly immune to anything but the most potent of magics.

He made a mental note to seal off the doors.

Now, to test the seals.

Flying out the hole he'd disintegrated in the wall before beginning the process of laboratory construction, he took pains to make sure the air and ground around the temple were clear. Then, drawing back the sleeves of his robes, he swiftly cast five spells.

Four of them were Delayed Blast Fireball, each on a shorter timer than the last. The fifth was Meteor Swarm. Four amber seeds of concentrated magical fire shot into the room, followed by four massive globes of force-bound destruction.

Then Aibghalien quickened a teleport right the hell away from there.

The explosion sounded like Armageddon itself had gotten extremely drunk and decided to wrestle a supernova.

Aibghalien had done his work well. Absolutely none of the force transmitted through the magical walls into the Jedi Temple. It all went directly outwards into the unshielded outer wall of the room. That wall disintegrated almost as thoroughly as the spell of that name would have done, and a massive plume of fire shot out in a prominence, followed by a shockwave that rolled out across the City like the deepest bass note from lowest level of the Abyss.

In the horribly quiet aftermath, the wizard drifted back to examine his handiwork. The room, with its walls intact, appeared perfectly unharmed. "That worked well," he noted to himself. "Now to set up the circle--"

Hmm.

He quickly pulled out his omnicomm and typed out a message before returning to work.

Nura's not going to wake up anytime soon, is what has been determined.

She's not going to move from her bed in the Med Bay for some time.

She's not going to.

But the heart monitor that she's connected to says there's definitely hope, as the machines that she's been connected to help keep her breathing and functioning. She lays in the Med Bay bed, unmoving, looking so silent, almost as if she's just sleeping and will soon awake and be laughing and moving again.

But unfortunately, that is not the case.

 Alex stood in the sensoriums, once again without his sweatshirt. He checked his omnicomm for the fifth time this  minute and rubbed at his arms, unaccustomed to the feeling of air against them. He was wondering if he had gotten the wrong time, or gone to the wrong place, or something else equally as distressing, even though it hadn't even yet hit the agreed upon time.

He inadvertently summoned his house- specifically his room. It was ridiculously bare, with a low coffee table to house his sensorium-laptop, a bed with a broken frame, and a floor lamp that was a little off-kilter, though at least it had a shade. From the other room a base-ball game could be heard, his father occasionally cursing at it in German.

He laid back on his bed with a heavy sigh. Was he really missing this place of all places? Well, he didn't miss his father, but the familiar sounds of the street outside, the hum of his laptop fan, the sound of the TV, the feel of his bed under him as he stared at the familiar ceiling, it was just all so familiar and in it's own way comforting.