For a second I was too jarred by the situation to do anything. It seemed like I'd reduced this fine upstanding young man to a reality refugee, but there was something strange about him. I've encountered more than a few flashburns, the unlucky junkies who hit too much of the wrong thing and spend the rest of their short lives drowning in stimulus. Our little 'slinger didn't look like that, despite the dosage in his system being plenty sufficient to the task, left too long. He could speak for one, but the way he moved left me almost as unnerved as the look in his eyes. Lucid, focused, just not on anything that I could see.
By the time I had managed to process that he was at best unconscious Phaa had already wandered back into the infirmary and was in a near panic trying to make sure our guest yet lived. He did, hopefully just sleeping it off, he'd had a very long day after all, but that didn't stop Phaa from getting after me to actually call for help when someone collapses.
We were still a few hours out from Mutei, where dreams come true provided your dreams are state sanctioned and you're willing owe favors to some of the nastier elements of Protectorate bureaucracy.
See, a long time ago, before humans had made it too far from Sol, they had some pretty bad issues with tribalism and oppression. This one twist got it in their head to put a stop to all that shit, to save their people from fucking themselves into extinction. So they rallied scientists and mercs from all the colonized worlds, started training and educating the chaff of their society.