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Blueheart

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Everything posted by Blueheart

  1. (Shuttlebay Exit- USS Atlantis) ::Mitchell sat near the aft edge of the Atlantis’s shuttle bay exit. The only thing between him and the cold vacuum of space was the mag-con field that kept the atmosphere inside when the doors were open. He had the area to himself since the ship only had a skeleton crew aboard, just an in-port watch was aboard and anyone who hadn’t gone on leave.:: oO And I’m probably the only one who made that choice. Oo ::He volunteered to take the in-port watch since he didn’t feel much like celebrating or ruining anyone’s else good time. Plus he could do the whole brooding thing on the ship without affecting much since the in-port watch was mostly caretaker items, such as checking in crew reporting to the ship, or going on leave. And could be done from a console at the airlock just as well as on the bridge.:: oO Plus that white jacket just isn’t me. Oo ::But he had been down here for a couple of hours now, staring out into space, letting his thoughts play out. Long enough to go from standing to sitting with his back and head against the wall. The past two years had seen some significant changes in his life, especially the past few months. Leaving the Discovery for the Shipyard, then her being declared missing and that desperate search. The return of the ship, then the mission on the Odyssey. Then Tyr’s retirement and the decommissioning of the Discovery. and then the reassignment to the Atlantis and the new sector.:: oO Maybe I should stayed gone….not have come back... Maybe I should have be lost with the Discovery went she went missing… Maybe I should just hang it up….Oo ::He shifted position slightly, and got to his feet to stretch his back.:: oO I feel like hitting something, but can’t exactly punch a forcefield. Enough momentum and my fist would go right through this field. Its designed to hold atmosphere in here, but still allow shuttles through, so I could pass through it with enough momentum. It’d probably take a running start, but I could…Oo ::But the concept of simply stepping out into raw space after all his encounters with it just didn’t seem right. It almost seemed like it would be betraying the memories of all those in head, the lost and the departed. :: oO I’ve nearly died at least twice from the effects of being exposed to raw space as part of the consequences of wrecking two fighters and several shuttles. Guess I’ve gotten sloppy or slow over the years. Oo ::As his thoughts turned to all the years he spent flying fighters, there was one memory he still had to face. The memory really. He reached into his pocket and removed a box. Naturally, he thumbed it open to look at the contents.:: oO These were supposed to be the things that held us together. But in the end, they were never used. Oo ::A pair of rings sat inside the box, the first custom fitted for the ring finger on Perin Anders’ left hand, the other for his. They were actually part of a set of three, machined out of pieces from a wrecked fighter. But the third, the engagement ring, was gone now. The last time he’d seen it, it had been on Perin’s hand where he had put it before he left her on the surface of Ba’ku.:: oO I always intended to go back for her…to pick up where we left off when her memories returned. Or to start anew if they didn’t. But that option’s gone now. She’s gone…Oo ::He’d come down here to make peace with himself, but he hadn’t really solved much. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be much good to the ship and crew. Just he hadn’t been for the last three months he’d worked on the Delta Bravo project. Only the loss of the Discovery had drug him out of the funk. Then all the other events happened and he’d ended up right back in this funk.:: oO Guess there’s really only thing left to do…Plus, I know she’d approve of us drifting through the galaxy together. Oo ::He flipped the box closed, brought his arm back and whipped forward in a pitching motion. This is what made a mag-con field different from a standard force field. It would let items in motion with momentum pass through. The box left his hand and passed through the field and out into raw space.:: oO Just like my name sake did in that movie. Space is just my ocean. Oo ::He took a deep breathe and let him mentally struggling subside as he watched the box drift away. A few minutes, the small black box would be lost to sight, and simply be one more piece of cosmic debris drifting through space.:: oO Good bye Perin. Oo ::He closed his eyes to let the moment pass. Then it was done. That was all he could do. Now to return to his duty and get on with his life.:: tbc Commander Rode Mitchell USS Atlantis NCC-74682
  2. ((Backsim)) ((Starlight Ballroom, DS26)) ::Raj accompanied Tyr closely as he made his rounds meeting and greeting members of the crew of the Atlantis, proudly showing him off like a kid at bring-your-dad-to-school day. Once everyone had been introduced to and pleasantries exchanged cordially, Raj took the Colonel aside to speak softly.:: BLUEHEART: Can I get you something to eat? ::He looked around to summon a passing waiter.:: There’s plenty of food to go around. You must be tired after your long trip. Or do you prefer to rest and shower first? I can find you a place---- WALTAS::Chuckling:: You’re fussing over me like a mother hen, Raj. This is YOUR evening and YOUR crew. I’m perfectly fine. I’m no conquering hero returning from the front. Just an old friend happy to see his shipmate take the reigns. BLUEHEART: :: You’re my guest of honor. Of course I’ll treat you like royalty! ::He chuckled.:: WALTAS: Well, there are a few things I’d like to discuss privately, once the celebration has calmed down a bit. BLUEHEART: ::nodding:: That will work too. ::smiling:: Transporters? WALTAS::Mock offense:: Why, Captain! You know that’s against regulations. Don’t tell me my attitude toward the regs has rubbed off on you.. BLUEHEART: ::laughing:: I’m totally exercising my new privileges here! ::The two officers dematerialized into a storm of particles only to reappear again in the Captain’s Ready Room on board the USS Atlantis.:: ((Captain’s Ready Room, USS Atlantis)) ::They re-materialized in the Ready Room of the USS Atlantis. Tyr recognized the design, having been on an Intrepid class ship before. He nodded at the decorations and accomodations, all what he would expect from Raj and his tastes. He sat down in front of the large desk. BLUEHEART: ::moving to the replicator:: Can I get you something to drink? WALTAS: Ice water, please. ::He returned with the drinks and placed the Colonel’s drink in front of him then realized where the man was sitting. He had been so used to approaching Tyr behind a giant desk, not seeing him in front of one.:: BLUEHEART: I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you sitting there and me over here. WALTAS::Flatly:: Get comfortable with it. I’m not here to steal your chair. Just to make sure you sit down. BLUEHEART: Yes, it will take some getting used to, I guess. ::reluctantly sitting behind the desk:: I still can’t believe it. It’s surreal! I mean, I honestly didn’t think the EC was going to pass my promotion. WALTAS: I may have my disagreements with the way certain things are done, but one thing that is undeniable and unassailable is pure, raw talent and heart. You’re replete with both, my friend. You know you deserve it, ::jokingly:: now shut up and accept it. Just never let those four pips prevent you from sticking your neck out for those who you care about. BLUEHEART: ::softly chuckling:: Yeah, I’ll remember that. No more second-guessing myself. I’ll always remember every word you say. You taught me well, Tyr. I wouldn’t be Captain today if it weren’t for you. You believed in me even during those times I myself didn’t. WALTAS::Sipping his ice water before continuing:: You always had faith in yourself, Raj. You just buried it from time to time under emotions and doubt. It was always there. I just helped you let it out. BLUEHEART: So.. ::putting down his cup of jasmine tea and leaning slightly forward in his seat:: how are you, Tyr? WALTAS: Well, I can’t complain. I thought I was done and was going stir-crazy on Ba’ku when Fleet Captain Turner sent for me. Offered me command of the Marine regiment on Duronis and a chance to make a difference again. I couldn’t turn it down. BLUEHEART: And Daisha? Tye and Sanuye? WALTAS: Daisha…took her courts martial hard. Very hard. Starfleet was her life and she was being forced out. At that point the words of a retired Captain didn’t mean much in the ears of the Federation Council, and stealing a Sovereign-class starship did. She took the brunt of what should have been my punishment. BLUEHEART: ::downcast eyes:: I’m so sorry to hear that. ::He clenched his fists underneath the desk, angry at the very organization he was duty-bound to serve.:: WALTAS: Tye is his father’s son. I’ve already gotten three disciplinary reports as well as one pleading request from one of his professors to, ::he made quote signs with his fingers:: have him cut that [...]ed lion’s mane of a head of hair”. I nicely replied that if he so much as touched a lock he’d have ME to deal with. He’s a good kid, wears his heart on his sleeve, unfailingly loyal to his friends and fiercely protects them. ::Winking:: Reminds me of you. BLUEHEART: ::surprised:: Me? I think you just described yourself! ::taking a sip of his fragrant tea, slightly hesitant to coax any further response:: And Sanuye? WALTAS::Shadow passing over his features:: Sanuye…is still very angry. We don’t talk. I don’t know how he’s doing unless I hear it from Daisha or Tye. He’s very bitter and blames me for Eden leaving. ::Sighing, he sipped his water and looked over Raj’s shoulder out the ready room window:: Maybe he’s right. BLUEHEART: No, Tyr. We’ve discussed this. None of it was your fault. Some people just need a longer time to accept the hard truth that it was Cmdr Redstone who walked out on you, not the other way around. Give him some time. And if it’s still not enough, give some more. ::He smiled reassuringly.:: WALTAS: Speaking of relationships, how are you and Emerson? BLUEHEART: ::gritting his teeth:: He can be so infuriating sometimes! Stubborn as a mule and ever ready to explode like a firecracker! ::He rolled his eyes in exasperation.:: WALTAS: Tell him that if he doesn’t shape up I’m going to knock him on his [...] like I did in my ready room. BLUEHEART: I remember that day like it was yesterday! ::chuckling:: Maybe I should pull some strings and get him to work under your command for six months or so. That’ll teach him to rein in that temper! ::Slowly his smile faded, and he creased his forehead a little.:: You know.. I have to say this or it’ll continue to eat me up inside.. ::pause, sighing:: The reason I wasn’t at the airlock the day you left the Discovery was because I was.. well.. I was never any good at goodbyes. I was also angry over a lot of things and I didn’t want you to see me that way before you left for Ba’ku. I wanted you to take with you only the good memories that we shared, not those of the last few days of the Discovery when there was a lot of anger and confusion and frustration. I’m sorry for that. I just couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to you then.. I wasn’t ready, Tyr. WALTAS: I wasn’t ready either. Not like that. It was like taking someone off life support who had a good chance to live. I feel like it was ripped away from me, and I’m sure you felt the same way. It wasn’t how I wanted to end my career, that’s for sure. But I guess that wasn’t the end, after all. BLUEHEART: I’m glad it wasn’t. I honestly thought it WAS the end, not just for you, but for everyone. WALTAS: Well, I’m a firm believer in second chances. Things didn’t go as planned when I landed on Duronis though. The previous commander of the Marines was reluctant to surrender command to a “penguin”, as he called me. A fleet officer that moves to a Marine rank. We ah…settled our differences in true Discovery fashion. ::Tyr grinned, knowing that Raj would understand what that meant. He had taken on Hannibal Parker, one of the most feared Marines in the entire Federation and a man twice his size, and both men nearly killed each other.:: BLUEHEART: ::laughing heartily:: I’ve lost count of how many ribs you’ve already broken, Tyr! I don’t dare ask how the other guy fared. ::He grinned, surprised that he found himself missing the infamous fights among the crew of the Discovery. His skills as Counselor and then First Officer was truly put to the test attending to the crew.:: WALTAS: Let’s put it this way-by the end of the fight Captain Turner shot us both with phasers and we ended up in the med ward for 24 hours. But there was an abiding respect gained through the conflict. After we paid our dues and rebuilt the office we destroyed we got to know each other. He’s a good man. Ironically he just made First Officer so now he’s a “shellback”-a Marine that takes a Fleet rank. We’re sort of the yin and yang of the Embassy. BLUEHEART: Penguin and shellback. The Marines sure have interesting terminologies. But yeah, I agree with you that there is respect to be gleaned through conflict. Sometimes we even discover ourselves through our adversaries. ::slight pause:: Remember Amman? The Ice Queen? WALTAS: ::Smiling fondly:: She’s rather hard to forget. BLUEHEART: I couldn’t stand to be near her when we were on board the Discovery. There was a severe clash of personalities as I’m sure you’re aware of. But looking back, I can’t help but admire her. Her unwavering beliefs, her firm grasp of principles, her simple yet effective definition of right and wrong – I can’t bring myself to say now that she was wrong. The valuable lesson I learned from Hsina Amman is to always believe in yourself, no matter if what you’re ordered to do goes against your principles. That will save us from immense emotional conflict. Something that I’m only now beginning to understand and appreciate, having to command a ship and crew of my own. ::pause:: Gods, listen to me! I’m getting old! WALTAS::Leaning back in the chair, almost (but stopping himself out of respect) putting his feet up on the desk like the old days:: Oh, give it time, Captain. Wait until you pin a fourth pip on a man’s collar who walked onto your bridge as an Ensign. THAT will make you feel old. BLUEHEART: By the way, speaking of yin and yang, that is a good relationship to have. In fact, balance is key to any form of relationship. Kind of like the partnership we had on the Discovery. We sure made a solid team, didn’t we? WALTAS::Smiling sadly:: The best. I said it and I meant it. We were the best [...]ed ship in Starfleet. Whether Starfleet knew it or not. But now the Atlantis has a shot at that mantle. BLUEHEART: ::smiling and blushing:: I’m following your style of command – not the throwing regulations out the airlock bit – but how you treat the crew as family. WALTAS: Looks like you had a few shakeups as well… Where’s Mitchell? BLUEHEART: ::smirking:: Mitchell and dress-white functions? I don’t think so. Knowing him.. probably at some bar lamenting his past, or in a shuttle practicing tactical maneuvers. I’ve sent word to him that you’re on board the station though. Don’t worry, he’ll show up when you least expect it. That’s his style. ::He half winked.:: WALTAS: True enough. I’m surprised he isn’t sporting a fourth pip by now. BLUEHEART: I’ve given up trying to get him to take up a Command role, never mind his Captaincy exam. He’s more than qualified and would make a great first officer, but I respect his decision. Besides, he’s a free spirit. You can’t pin him down with bureaucracy and protocol. But you already know this. WALTAS: He’d rather be doing warp 9 with his hair on fire, I’ll warrant. What about the rest of your crew? Looks like a good group of people. BLUEHEART: The rest of the crew is great. Lieutenant Rennyn, the Trill helmsman that you met a while ago? Both Mitchell and myself could swear he’s Eric Lundrigan reincarnated! And our Andorian medical officer, Dr Foster? He’s like.. like.. well, there’s really no one to compare with on the Discovery now, is there, seeing how we never could retain a Medical Officer for long! It’s like a Discovery curse! ::He laughed heartily again.:: WALTAS: And with our unerring ability to get injured we needed them. The EMH got plenty of action. BLUEHEART: ::laughing again:: Gosh Tyr! We could talk about the Discovery all night long and still not run out of tales! WALTAS: Yes, we could my friend, but a crew needs its Captain, even during shore leave. You should go be with your family. BLUEHEART: ::checking the chrono and sighing softly:: You’re right. It’s almost time for the after-party. I’ll be needed. I just hope there are no bar brawls. ::He grinned knowingly.:: WALTAS: Eh, if there are, just make sure they end with the right side winning. Remember that time we cleaned out that Academy bar full of Enterprise crew members? BLUEHEART: How can I forget!! ::Raj was right, they COULD go on forever. There was a lifetime of memories and stories that could keep both men there for a long, long time. But it was time for Raj to be with his family, and the Ba’ku was growing steadily more sad with the memories that had been drummed up. Before his intuitive friend sensed that sadness, he would take his leave.:: WALTAS::Standing:: I should go, Raj. You need to be with your crew. Go get drunk or something. BLUEHEART: ::standing up with the Colonel:: Sure you won’t join us for the after-party? We might need you just in case Emerson starts another brawl. WALTAS::Grinning:: I think you can handle it. Besides, you’re the keeper of this ship, not me. BLUEHEART: I understand. ::nodding:: So.. ::His face grew sad again over the impending farewell.:: Any last words of advice for a newbie Captain? WALTAS::Smiling, looking into his friends eyes:: Trust your heart, Raj. Not orders, not regulations, not others’ opinions and definitely not an enemy you know in your heart is an enemy. Trust in yourself and your family. You’ll never go wrong. ::Pausing, chuckling:: But you may end up in the stockade. BLUEHEART: ::grinning:: Thank you, Tyr. I will always cherish those words in my heart. You taught me all I needed to know about being a Captain and you taught me well. More than any Captain’s handbook ever could. ::He walked around the desk to stand in front of the Ba’ku, his eyes moist again.:: I’ll walk you to the docking bay? WALTAS::Shaking his head:: I can find my way. If you don’t join your crew soon there WILL be a brawl. BLUEHEART: Oh, it’s no trouble at all, it’s on the way to---- ::But the Colonel interrupted him and insisted.:: WALTAS::Lowering his voice to a commanding baritone:: Snap to, Captain! BLUEHEART: Yes, Sir! ::He smirked playfully. Then he extended his hand and shook Tyr’s hand firmly before clasping it in both of his.:: Thank you for tonight, Tyr. ::He touched the fourth pip on his collar.:: I am so very happy and honored to see you again! WALTAS::gripping the hand tightly:: The pleasure was mine, Raj. ::He paused:: And watch your aft quarter. ::He paused, and turned to leave:: Captain. BLUEHEART: I will. And perhaps one of these days I may just pay you a surprise visit on Duronis! WALTAS::Turning to his old friend:: You’re always welcome. ::Raj embraced Tyr tightly, blinking back tears. This time though, they were not bitter tears of a sorrowful farewell, but rather, tears of sweet memories and everlasting friendship.:: WALTAS: Releasing his friend and wiping away a stray tear himself:: Oh, there’s one more thing.. ::Tapping his communicator:: Computer, energize. ::Raj’s old desk de-materialized, to be found in his quarters, and a large desk made of pure, crimson-colored wood appeared in its place. The surface was polished to a brilliant sheen, shining from the starlight in the window. The desk had been modernized to accommodate a Captain’s needs, complete with a pop-up LCARS display, comm terminal, and a weapons storage locker within easy reach. It had been his desk all those years on Discovery, traveled with him on so many missions and was the meeting place of so many private discussions when he took the Captain’s chair. It was only fitting for him to have it.:: WALTAS: I thought you might like it. They were going to scrap it. BLUEHEART: ::He gasped.:: It’s your old desk! I can’t---- ::shaking his head vehemently:: I can’t! I won’t! WALTAS: I insist. A Marine doesn’t need something like this. And the wood will last longer than any material Starfleet can dream up. Besides, I like to think a little part of me lives on with you. Oh, and check the drawer. You can hang it on the wall for decoration, but I suspect it’ll be better suited at your side. ::Without waiting for a reply, he tapped his comm badge again:: =/\= Computer, one to transport to Runabout 4. =/\= ::Raising his hand as the beam took him:: Goodbye, Captain. ::When the drawer was opened, the starlight in the dim ready room fell upon a long, slightly curved blade that rested within. The pommel was wrapped in black leather, lovingly crafted by the Ba’ku himself during his exile on Ba’ku. The blade was almost a meter long and held a gentle curve, and was razor-sharp. It shone in the darkness, ready to serve its new master as the blade it was copied from had served Tyr for decades.:: FIN ==================================== A joint post by: Colonel Tyr Waltas Marine CO Duronis II Embassy / USS Thunder & Captain Raj Blueheart Commanding Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682
  3. (( Place: not here not there )) (( Time: just now and never )) :: Darkness was everywhere but he could hear treble noises just ahead. The feeling of solitude was present. Dizziness too. But that sound was more powerful. It was attracting him. So… he stood up and started to crawl toward it. But he couldn´t see himself, just feel his movements. There was an energy of joy coming from that sound. People were clapping their hands, whooping. It had become more and more intense at each step he made. The fun, the joy were contaminating him. He was feeling different. He was feeling capable of everything. The sound subsided and a terrific beat remained still. He was now walking completely upright and at each step he regained consciousness of who he was. Then someone with a beautiful and powerful voice began to speak. :: VOICE: Ladies and gentleman. :: Long pause.:: Welcome… Welcome to a dream! :: He could hear people getting crazy. Yelling. He could feel the fun and the excitement everywhere, and that feeling was making him more and more strong. It was like if he was returning to life. It was as he was resurrecting. He was returning to some place he cared most. Where he was extremely happy. :: VOICE: Where we experience a culmination of a long road. That one individual… who dare to dream… who dare to be different… that individual who gave us his art… art we feel… art we can´t get enough of… :: As he approached the end of tunnel he could see that there were a lot of people in colorful seats close by. They were all stand up dancing with the music. :: VOICE: This dream is now… the moment is here… where you are no longer a visitor… but simply a part of this dream… :: long pause while the music level is increased. :: Soooo…. :: At the center there was a person, dressed in yellow uniform with blue shorts. He was tall, bald, a little skinned but strong. He was dressing some sports uniform with a number 12 on it. Green colors. He was with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his right foot resting over some spherical thing, made of white and black patterns. He was looking toward the tunnel exit. Waiting for someone. Waiting for him. :: VOICE: Dear dreamers… I gave you the legend… FALCAO :: All that beat and music was for him. The light increased and he could see he was inside some beautiful and technological gymnasium. The music was wonderful and he couldn´t resist to it. He started to dance showing his Brazilian swing… following with the beat and vibration. The crowd got even more crazy and happy… that was his show… he was the Falcon. :: FALCAO: oO I remember now. I am Falcao. But who is that guy over there? Oo :: As he approached from the court center he could see better the person dressing in yellow. He was wearing his uniform, the canary uniform. He was wearing his t-shirt and his name on it. When the tall person raised his head he got scared. It was… It was Tarsii!!! The beat changed and the Angosian started to sing... the lyrics appeared around the gymnasium and the crowd repeated his words. :: ASMARA: :: Smiling and pointing both hands toward Falcon :: I got a vision. :: The music filled the air and the Angosian showed the same swing. :: Can´t be touched. Can´t be stopped. Can´t be moved. Can´t be rock. :: He was connected to the sound which was spread around the entire gymnasium. Everything he spoke was transmitted loud and clear. His voice was increased with special effects on it. He sounded as Rap singers from old times on Earth. It was everything a great and well planned show. :: ASMARA: Can´t be shook. We hot. When will you learn? :: The Angosian moved his left foot over the black and white ball and touched it just at the exact point to promote a gentle rolling toward his right foot. Without rest the left foot on the ground he kicked the ball with his opposite foot and raised him up. It had started... the freestyle battle to decide who would be the truly Falcon. :: FALCON: oO Oh! Impressive. But this is my domain. Oo :: The music ignited everybody who was clapping in its rhythm. The bald man had impressive skills but he would be match for Falcon. :: ASMARA: I will say again. Can´t be touched. Can´t stopped. Can´t be moved. Can´t be shook. We hot. When will you learn? :: With that saying, after some kick-ups, he throw the ball toward his opponent. :: :: Now the other man could be clearly seen. He was much smaller than the Angosian, with short black hair and white skin. He was still wearing the yellow uniform but the letters FALCAO were glittering, as well as the man. He was enveloped in some kind of golden aura. :: FALCAO: oO I will show you the real Falcao. Oo Came to get crunk. Came to bring life. Came to get it started. Came to get it right. :: He received the ball on his chest and moved his spine the exact amount to amortize it completely. It was like it had hit a pillow. Then he turned his body back so quickly that the ball was transferred to his nape. He moved his head and threw it to the air. All the spotlights followed the ball in the air and forgot the Falcon for a couple of seconds. When the ball returned to the ground Falcon was sat down and he received it with his shin. The crowd got crazy again and the music increased the rhythm. The Falcon domain of the ball was fabulous. Even laid on the floor the ball seemed to be attached to him. It was like he was the gravity center of the ball and it always searched for him. He passed the ball several time from one shin to another moving his legs over it so quickly that was almost impossible for the people to believe on those movements. He balanced the ball at his head and slowly stood up without losing it. After that he look to the Angosian and let the ball slipped slowly on his back until he hit it with his right foot from back, throwing it toward his opponent. The crowd started to cry out his name. FALCAO. FALCAO. FALCAO. The Angosian smiled back. He raised his both arms, and as soon as he did that, the whole court changed and several other players appeared. It was the first time that the lights were completely turned on and it was possible to see the whole gymnasium filled of people. :: ASMARA: I mean what I speak. I do as I say. I hustle, I grind. Don't get in my way. Cause I ain't gonna budge. :: The music returned and the challenged changed to a new level. Now a complete futsal squad against Falcon. But he was not alone. Other legends were with him. Players from several eras were there. But the Angosian had the ball and he was thirsty to meet Falcon on the court. :: TBC ((OOC: This are just happening in Tarsii’s dreams, since the opening event of the Tournament didn´t happen. These are the musics I based this sim on: I am Hardwell Intro – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GleSC5g6rd0 Can´t be touched https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8R9u2CX0qEs )) ----------- Lieutenant JG Tarsii Asmara Science Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682
  4. ((Tamaiti Scott’s Quarters, USS Atlantis)) ((Ren's dream)) ::Navin was floating in space, dressed like he used to, like a Trill would, not like the Borg had done him up ten years ago. He was carrying a purple trident that glowed with terrific mystical power. He smiled broadly.:: ::Ren scoffed.:: REN: You said no more dream visits. What the hell? ::A song played around them. Sound in space. It was a familar voice, but an alien song. Something from another world.:: EMERSON: Your heart is not open so I must go The spell has been broken, I loved you so Freedom comes when you learn to let go Creation comes when you learn to say no.. ::Ren looked down and realized he was tattooed head to toe. Tattoos of Borg implants on every inch of his body. It was disgusting.:: ::Navin pointed the trident at him imperiously. He didn't say a word.:: EMERSON: There's nothing left to try There's no place left to hide REN: Why are you haunting me? NAVIN: Haunting you? ::Navin floated closer, letting the trident go. He took Ren in his arms, tenderly.:: I haven't haunted you, Ren. Don't you see it yet? I'm not here. I've been gone for years. Only you're here, only you. Alone. EMERSON: There's no greater power Than the power of good-bye.. NAVIN: You've been haunting yourself all along. EMERSON: There's nothing left to lose There's no more heart to bruise ::Ren struggled to get away. This wasn't the Borgified Navin he'd been dreaming of for years, the enemy of sleep, the stuff of nightmares. This was worse. This was Navin as he should always have been remembered, a vibrant, kind-hearted Trill, who never would have hurt Ren. Who never would have haunted him. In some ways, it had been easier to blame the fear all these years, for holding him back. It kept him from facing the loss, the despair. How good it could have been between them, if Navin had lived.:: NAVIN: You know what we have to do here, don't you, Ren? You know why I'm here in your dreams one last time. ::They weren't in space anymore. They were by the stream at the back of Uncle Wavern's fallow field, that last golden summer, when the war was over, and their lives stretched forward together into eternity, all things possible. Navin was leaving tonight, one last short tour with the Trill Defense Force. It was only a month. Nothing was going to happen. Then he would come back, and be Ren's forever.:: ::They held each other, standing there by the stream, the sun setting gloriously over Arnmere. Their kiss lit the world, chasing all fears from the burgeoning night. Only a month, then eternity. Ren could wait that long.:: ::He waited ten years.:: REN: I don't want to see this! Our lives were beginning. You shouldn't have gone! NAVIN: I couldn't have done anything else. You've punished yourself for nothing, all these years. For one little word. ::Ren had told Navin that night that he didn't want to say goodbye. It was bad luck. It was a jinx. No goodbyes.:: NAVIN: You never said goodbye. EMERSON: There's no greater power Than the power of good-bye.. ::They were in space again. The voice faded away in the dark, black night, it's song of pain finished. Navin held Ren close again. The tattoos were gone. No sign of the Borg anywhere. Their kiss lit the galaxy, and chased away every bad dream.:: NAVIN: Say it to me, Ren. I know you want to. REN: Don't go. Please, don't go. NAVIN: Not that, Ren. I'm going. You'll have to let me. ::The trident reappeared. Navin gripped it tightly, and it began to pull him away from Ren, into the vast eternal night. With his free hand, Navin caressed Ren's cheek in one last moment of togetherness. He floated backwards and away, mouthing a word Ren couldn't hear in the cold of space, until he said the same word himself. With every ounce of courage he could find, after ten long years of regret and self-doubt, Ren said what he'd always wished he could.:: REN: Goodbye, Navin. Goodbye. ::Before he floated out of sight, an electric streak of purple blurred by eyes filled with tears, Navin's whisper reached Ren's ears.:: NAVIN: Goodbye. Goodbye, my love. Goodbye. ::Ren woke on Tama's couch, maybe much later.:: ::The room was darkened. Ren, still half sitting, had curled against Emerson, his head resting awkwardly on the Terran's side. It was a little inappropriate, yes, and he thought of moving. He stayed. In that brief moment of consciousness, he knew he was safe, and relaxed for the first time in years, finally at peace with the past. He let himself sleep again, slipping easily into a deeply restful slumber he hadn't known in a long time. It was the sleep of one who no longer fears the coming of dreams.:: LtJg Rendal Rennyn Helm Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682
  5. (Corridors - USS Atlantis) ::Mitchell yawned as he made the trip up to the bridge from the Runabout dock on Deck 9. He’d been sitting in that runabout for such a long period he’d decided to walk from the dock at the aft end of the deck forward all the way to the forward pair of turbo lifts. It wasn’t the extreme hike it would have been back on the Lady since the Atlantis was a smaller Intrepid, but it was a good walk to loosen up all his stiff muscles. It had been a long time since he had put himself through the gut wrenching effects of combat flying.:: oO And this was only a runabout, not Valkyrie or even a Peregine. It had a better SIF then both fighters. Oo ::As he walked, he let his mind wander back to some of the fights he’d been in. The first that came to mind was the fighting with the Romulans over the base.:: (Flashback in Mitchell’s Mind) ::Every fighter the base had was now streaking toward the decloaked Warbirds. Nine Rogue class interceptors lead the way, with the six Valkryies lead by Mitchell right behind. Eight Peregines were on one side, with twelve who had not gone out with the Discovery, on the other side. The four surviving Maul gunships brought up the rear, tucked in tight behind, between,and slightly under the others.:: ::But this time there was no chance for a surprise like at Daris II. All of the Romulan ships were on impulse, and this time, there had the oppurtunity to use the best form of anti-starfighter defense in the galaxy. Another fighter. And the new Romulan Warbirds carried the newest "fighter" in the Romulan's aresnal, the Scorpion class, as Starfleet Intel had taged it. And as Mitchell and his fellows had expected, they were out in force today.:: ::Now since only Jean Luc Picard of the Enterprise E was the only Starfleet officer who had flown a Scorpion, there was exactly much known about how the new craft would handle. But according to Intel data, the Scorpion was a ground attack craft, essentially a modified shuttlepod design, with limited capabilities as a fighter. They were the exact opposite of the craft under Mitchell's command, which according to Starfleet guideline were all special designed and built fighter craft. So it was going to be a contest between a small number of true fighter/interceptors versus a large number of "wannabe" fighters. And those wannabes were forming up for a break through strike of their own.:: ::The range scrolled down fast and his targeting cursor went red with the familiar growl. It was time.:: MITCHELL: =/\= All craft. Break Now! =/\= ::Immeadiately the Rogue interceptors went to max power and opened fire with pulse phaser cannons, then pulled up hard, clearing the others line of fire, just as Mitchell and the others each clamped down on their own triggers. Each of the Valkyries spat out a pair of mini-quantum torpedoes and the Peregines mini-photons, but the Mauls each fired two external full sized photons. As soon as the torps were inflight, both squadrons of Peregines broke wide, while Mitchell slammed his stick over hard, putting his bird into a crash dive, the others Valkryies following. The old fashioned spitting flower trick.:: ::Each squadrons finished its manuevers to keep clear of return fire and rolled back in. But despite the barrage, not enough Scorpions were taken out for Mitchell's taste. But the Rogue's again lead the way back in, spitting pulse phaser fire, nailing several more of the Romulans. Then as the Scorpions used their limited ammount of manueverability to break after the Rogues, it was Mitchell and the Ghostriders turn. The Valkyries came in using their own pulse phaser cannons, catching the Romulans from the oblique. Two exploded under the volley as the others tried to break free. But the Valkyries superior manueverability let them stay right with the Scorpions, pumping phaser fire into'em. The remaining four quickly disappeared in blazes.:: ::Mitchell finished off his bogey and racked his bird around to pick up another target. Around him, the other fighters weaved, turned, climbed and dived, juked and jived, doing what ever they could to keep their more manueverable birds behind the Romulans and out of the weapon arcs of the Warbirds. He rolled out of his turn and dropped in behind another Scorpion from above. He glanced at the sensors to see that several Warbirds were making a run on the doors to Spacedock. That meant they were trying to break in and invade.:: MITCHELL: ::switching to the wing com channel:: =/\= Ghost One to Marauders. Get those troop carriers. We gotta stop'em. Aces, help'em out. =/\= ::The gunships had been the only fighters not involved in serious dogfighting, which made sense since they were their to kill the Warbirds. They were making runs, but their were only four of them so they could only do so much. The eight Peregines of the Black Aces would help, but all of the fighters would really be needed. But first they had to finish off these Scorpions, especially this one that Mitchell was chasing now. MITCHELL: Can't get his guy. Go for a torp lock! NOVA: Locking on. MITCHELL: Come baby, lock it up. Lock up...... ::then suddenly the cursor went red with a lock.:: Fire it! ::He squeezed the trigger and mashed the launch key at the same time. One of the two launchers built into the underside of the fighter, spat a single mini-quantum. The torpedo raced out, tracking the fighter it was following through its manuevers. It caught up with the fighter as it tried to slid out of the torpedo's path, and detonated with a flash.:: (Corridor - USS Atlantis) ::He shook his head to clear it before he walked into a wall. He reached one of the turbo lifts, tapped the key, and waited for a car to arrive. That mission had gotten rather painful for him. He reached down to rub his knee.:: (Flashback) ::Lt Mitchell was grogily drifting in and out of consciousness as the escape pod containing he and his WSO drifted through space. At least the periods of unconsciousness kept down the oxygen use. And it was starting to really get cold in the pod, or at least he thought. It hadn't been that long since they had ejected or so he thought. Someone should have come to get them by now, but he couldn't be sure how long it had been.:: ::He wasn't sure of Nova's condition behind him, but she didn't answer when he yelled. And yelling through the mask was all he could for now. The pod had lost all power at some point so he couldnt be sure how much air they had left other than what was around them and in their pressure suit emergency bottles. Thus he couldnt afford to risk removing his own mask, in case the pod had a leak in it somewhere. He would have unstrapped and tried to turn around, but his leg had smashed into the console and some point and his left knee wouldn't change positions now. He would probably loose his leg if they hit a planet and had to eject out of the pod. But at least at some point, either he or the pod's automatic systems had stopped the tumbling caused by the rocket motor that had gotten it clear of the dying Valkyrie. That was a plus at least. All he needed now was to be space sick as well.:: ::Suddenly he felt light playing across the darkness his eyes were used to. He opened his eyes to see another Valkyrie floating there, right outside the pod. Someone had come after all.:: oO Yes. They found us! About time. Took'em long enough. Uh no. With no power there's not a way to let them know we're alive.... Wait I got a way. Let's see what they think of this. Hope no one gets offended.Oo ::He lifted his arm and put his gloved hand right against the canopy. Making a fist, knuckles against the canopy, he rotated it so his palm was down, then he extended a selected finger.:: (Corridors - USS Atlantis) ::The hiss of the lift doors opening drug him from his thoughts and he stepped into the empty car.:: MITCHELL: Bridge ::As the car rose, he thought about the aftermath of that mission.:: (Flashback) ::Lt Mitchell hurt all over. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around, trying to see what he could see without moving his head. From what he could see and smell, he was in a starship's sickbay, and a nearly brand new one at that. That meant he was on the USS Fearless, since she had been on a test cruise right out of the yards when she had been diverted to join the rescue fleet heading for the base. He tried to lean forward and ease himself up into a sitting position, but when he tried to use his left arm, it felt like fire was burning through his side.:: LEE: ::hopping up from the chair he was sitting in and coming over to help.:: Whoa. Easy there Mitchell. Your busted up pretty good. ::With Lee's assistance, Mitchell got into a position sitting up right.:: MITCHELL: Ugh! What did I do to myself this time? LEE: Well, you want the short version or the whole list? MITCHELL: ::grunting:: The short version, please. LEE: Well, the main three are that you dislocated your left shoulder, bruised several ribs, as well as your right knee. MITCHELL: Ouch. No wonder I hurt all over. Ever heard of pain killers around here? LEE: They shot you full when the shuttle picked you up. You just came off them. MITCHELL: How long since you picked me up? Last thing I remember was giving a Valkyrie the finger. And where's my WSO, Nova? LEE: Yeah...nice signal. Been a long time since you last shot that at me. Its been about two hours since we picked you up. But Nova, well...Nova's still in surgery. MITCHELL: Surgery? For what? LEE: A lot. Multiple internal injuries. Well, here's what I can determine from the little I got from the medics in the shuttle, and knowing the Valkyrie's [...]pit. Nova managed to trigger the command ejection sequence to punch you two out. But as the pod seperated from your fighter, that took you out of the effects of the internal compensator. So as the pod started tumbling and tried to stablize itself, the only thing holding you both in place, were you harness straps. MITCHELL: Skip the excess details. So we got thrown around. That would account for how I feel and my injuries. But what about Nova? LEE: Apparently her harness either didn't lock properly or failed altogether. She was thrown around her portion of the [...]pit like a rag doll. So in addition to the physical external injuries like yours, she recieved significant internal damage, including damage to her spinal column. That's why the doc's are in there still, working on her now. MITCHELL: How's it look? Will she pull through? LEE: I think so. But her returning to flight status is nil. Maybe in a while, but for sure it won't be any time soon. MITCHELL: I know. She's a good WSO, be tough to replace her. ::Mitchell sat there slightly for several minutes, and Lee let him, before continuing the conversation.:: MITCHELL: Did you report finding me to Cmdr Waltas? LEE: Yes I did. He told me that if you pranged up another fighter, he'd bust you back to petty officer. MITCHELL: Funny. There any other messages for me? LEE: One. There's to be a staff meeting of the base's senior officers coming up. I guess that means you since your their flight ops chief. MITCHELL: Yeah it does technically. But how much of a department/flight wing do I have left? We took every fighter that would fly out with the Discovery before we fled. And of those, how many came through the fight in combat ready shape? LEE: Well, when the Fearless is done here, we're headed back to the fleet yards to finish fitting out. So I don't see the need for fighters for that. So...if need be, I'll transfer all of my working fighters over to your wing to replace your losses. MITCHELL: What about pilots? More fighters can be built a lot quicker than good pilots trained. I'l probably need some more pilots too. LEE: That would require me to discuss things with my Captain. But I'll say that if you would have it, I'll take leave, and come fly on your wing. MITCHELL: Thanks. I appreciate the offer. Now get me some crutches or something, cause I have a meeting to get to. (Turbolift - USS Atlantis) ::That had nearly been one of the various ends to his flying days but been the end of Nova’s. He got off with relatively minor injuries beside the knee, but Nova, the docs thought they could save her. But the spine damage had been too great. She’d been one of the hundreds of casualties lost in that battle. :: oO And I haven’t flown combat with a WSO since either. Oo ::He felt water on his face, and reached up to touch it and found his eyes were emitting tears. Some would call it crying. But he’d stick to calling it a by product of being awake and at the helm for so long. He wiped his eyes as the car stopped and the doors opened. He set himself and stepped out onto the bridge.:: tbc Commander Rode Mitchell Chief Tactical Officer USS Atlantis
  6. ((Dreamland)) ::Ren was standing in a field of tall grass in a land of green plants under a sky of pure blue with high white clouds and a faint, warm breeze. He was dressed a very well-made 21st century Terran suit, stone and gray glenplaid wool, with a crisp white shirt and a navy tie that hung loose around his neck. He knew he was dreaming, because his boyfriend Navin, who had been dead for 10 years, was walking toward him, every part of him fully transformed into a Borg drone. At least the weather was nice. While the antitoxin worked through his body in Sickbay, Ren had some issues to work through here.:: NAVIN: Well whaddya know. Rendal Rennyn, looking good. I like a man in a suit. ::Navin looked like a Borg, mechanical implants and mottled skin and one of those little skull caps and the red light shining from a piece next to his remaining eye. But he sounded like himself, not like a Borg.:: Resistance is futile. ::He made phaser guns with his fingers and pretended to shoot them at Ren.:: Pew! Pew! Pew! REN: What are you doing here? ::He could have moved, but was afraid. What if he woke up? Then again, what if he didn't? Weren't you supposed to be with your loved ones in an elysian field when you died? Yes, so that was it. He was dead.:: Where's my grandma? NAVIN: Uh.... I don't know? It's your dream. REN: My.. My dream! I'm not dead? NAVIN: What, did you trade brains with a gummy bear? Foster cured you. All this is, is you passing out while your body clears the toxin. REN: How do you know that? NAVIN: Because you're dreaming, and I'm in your head. REN: I'm dreaming you. NAVIN: Nnnnn.... is that what I said? Okay, sure. ::He winked his one Trill eye.:: Whatever you think. ::Ren didn't want to imagine any alternatives to what "in your head" could mean. He didn't want to look at Navin as a Borg. Then again, he could barely look away. Memories only slip as far away as the knowledge of how to ride a bicycle. But with people you've lost, the details are a bike you can't get on again. A photograph or a hologram can't do justice to the real thing. And dream or not, this was the real Navin. That eye, so brown it was almost black. It's corners, it's lashes. The quirk of his cheek, the fine muscle movements. Ren could have called up each detail if he thought hard enough about it, but to see them in action again, even ravaged by the Borg, was something better, something beyond memory. There was a reality here that he feared to question too deeply, lest he broke the spell and lost it forever.:: REN: I see you everywhere. But it's never as real as this. NAVIN: Your memories of me were fading. And now I'm in focus. REN: How....? NAVIN: Nah. Wrong question. Look, Ren. We're going to talk about Sovak. ::Ren stepped closer, though he'd meant to step away. He didn't know what to do or say.:: NAVIN: I know you like him. And I know you're holding back because you were so hurt when I died that you can't risk losing him the same way. Am I right? REN: ...Yes. It's dangerous out here. What if I let Sovak in? What if we're together? Then what? What if he dies? His parents died in the line of duty. So did you. I... I don't know if I can take it. NAVIN: Yeah, okay. You've put together a good routine of whining and excuses. ::With his mechanical hand, he played with one end of Ren's loose tie. His servos whirred.:: The truth is, you're not afraid Sovak will die. You're afraid that you won't be able to love him enough, the way you didn't love me enough when I was alive. When I was right in front of your face. You're afraid of feeling even more guilt than you already feel about me. REN: I was in love with you. I screwed it up with you, and then you were gone, and we didn't get another chance. Yes, I have spent years feeling low about it. But that's because I loved you. NAVIN: And you barely did anything about it. And then I was dead. You didn't know what to do about that, and you still don't know what to do about it. You go from one day to the next, going about your life, trying not to feel anything that has to do with love. And they call me a zombie. Friends - fine. Laughter - great. Jokes and jokes from good times Ren. But there's that guilt inside you, and you can't root it out. And now it's keeping you from Sovak, who could be really good for you. ::He played with Ren's hair, just above the ear, like he used to, except now, the metal fingers were cold, and they made Ren cringe.:: It can change, Ren. You can change, you can get past that feeling of guilt. I am here to tell you what to do about it. ::Ren couldn't believe it. As the toxin and the cure battled for control of his body, his poor beleagured brain was dreaming up an image of his dead boyfriend to tell him to put the moves on Sovak. This stupid toxin... He sighed in exasperation and shouted up to the sky.:: REN: Really, brain? This is the best you could do? An image of Navin to advise me on my love life? NAVIN: There you go putting words in my mouth again. ::Suddenly, Navin of Borg was pressed against Ren, his whirring mechanical parts crushing the fine material of the Terran suit. The Borg Trill's mechanical hand gripped Ren's waist tightly. The hand of dark, mottled flesh clasped Ren's face, pulling it uncomfortably close. Ren smelled death and machinery. This was not the embrace of his memories or his dreams.:: NAVIN: You want to stop dithering back and forth? I will tell you how. Give up, Ren. You will never forget me. You will never move on. You will never get past that dead feeling inside. Give up on moving forward, and be happy in the knowledge that you don't have to fight those feelings any more. Just accept that you will be miserable about me every day for the rest of your life, and forget about ever loving again. REN: This is either a nightmare, or the galaxy's worst reverse psychology. NAVIN: I'm haunting you, you idiot. What did you expect me to say? "Live and be free?" REN: Please don't make me remember you this way. I'm not a quitter. I'm not going to do any of what you're saying. Why won't you let me move on? NAVIN: Because we are one, Ren. Your biological and emotional distinctiveness was added to our own. ::Navin pulled Ren ever closer, tore the loose tie from around his neck, ripped open the crisp white shirt, and, despite Ren's struggling, inserted two nanotubes there. Navin whispered a sweet nothing in Ren's ear.:: NAVIN: Resistance is futile. ((USS Atlantis - Sickbay)) ::Ren awoke in Sickbay with a scream, and his hands scrambled to feel the warm, sweating flesh of his chest and neck, confirming no entry wound. He breathed deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm down. It had been nothing more than a dream.:: ::Someone had covered Ren with the blanket. His discarded uniform, drenched in sweat as it was, had been taken away, replaced with a fresh blue medical coverall folded neatly for him at the end of the bed. He was halfway in to it, trying to figure out how he was supposed to get the arm on over the IV, when the rest of Sickbay came in to focus, and he began to realize that the scream he'd woken to was not his own.:: TBC LtJg Rendal Rennyn Helm Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682
  7. ((Sickbay - USS Atlantis))::Sickbay was chaos. With new patients arriving at a regular pace, and none being discharged, as well as an ever dwindling medical staff who were healthy enough to work, it was a busy wash of noise, motion and borderline panic.One more scientist entering the fray didn’t cause anyone to bat an eye. In fact, most just moved out of Tarsii’s way until Vedra finally looked up and saw the man approaching.::ASMARA: :: He swept sickbay’s interior trying to find the target. He recognized several important officers around, including the Captain, who were receiving great care. With luck he would find his demise without his intervention. :: oO The blue inside EV suit. Target acquired. OoVEDRA: I’ll let you know when it’s complete. ::He nodded, then turned when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he recognized the officer just entering the place.:: Well, look who just walked into Sickbay with eyes all glazed like a zombie’s. FOSTER: Zombie? ::He snapped his head up:: Naw, he’s got too much flesh on his bones to be a zombie. ::His eyes narrowed, a bit clinically and a bit suspiciously:: Not quite sure what that’s all about. VEDRA: Hmm. He doesn’t look like himself but his appearance doesn’t correlate with the symptoms of the other patients.:: Tarsii was aware that sickbay would be crowded but he didn't expect to find the Andorian doctor wearing a EV suit. That would complicate things a little since he would be discovered the moment he attempted to kill the physician. He needed to remain stealthy until the last and deadly blow against Atlantis. He demanded an alternative plot to delay the medical efforts to disable the toxin. :: FOSTER: Wasn’t he the one who was so claustrophobic before? That might be it… ::He trailed off, contemplating the usual fear-reaction responses:: VEDRA: Well maybe we could just ask him. He seems to be headed this way. oO Looks kind of creepy.. Oo:: The remote controlled Angosian stood up motionless while devising a plan. The doctor was being helped by a green tall man who wear the science collar. They both were near a replication equipment which was processing some calculations and building some bio-chemical structure. He could see an animal from Uzoka 4 near by too. The most logical conclusion was they are trying to synthesize the antitoxin based on data the red hair biped extracted from the device before they had the chance to block it. So, the course of action was clear now, he must sabotage the equipment. :: FOSTER: Yeah, I called him here. I need his expertise on scrubbing the infected blood supply with the transporter. In hindsight I probably should not have called a claustrophobe into this chaos, but I’ll apologize later. ::he rose and headed over towards Tarsii:: I’ll talk to him, keep an eye on the dragons. ::nearing the scientist:: So, Captain tells me you know your way around transporter physics.SOMEONE: ~Another power outage is about to happen. Be prepared to act.~ ASMARA: ~Acknowledge.~:: It was pretty evident now that Tarsii was being fed with information from someone aboard the ship. Besides that, it was pretty evident that he got physical help too. And this unknown person will cause a power outage which would inflict more damage to the already weakened Atlantis. ::ASMARA: :: Expressionless and googly eyes. :: oO You must hamper his job. Oo Hi Doc. As I said before I have little experience on transport engineering. But I am very proud of my knowledge of physics.FOSTER: ::Eyes narrowing slightly:: oO He does not look well… Oo Well, a little will have to do. We have a major scrub duty if we want any hope of bringing these crew back from the brink. ::he gave a slight gesture around at the biobeds::ASMARA: oO I don't want any of them to walk out this place. Oo What do you mean by scrub?FOSTER: Scrub, as in forcibly separate the toxin from the blood cells using the transporter.ASMARA: oO How do this people come here with so primitive minds? Oo :: He moved aside preparing for action. :: This must prove difficult to achieve, especially with so little energy available. ::FOSTER: Yes… ::He paused for a second, watching Asmara with a growing note of suspicion. Something was off about the man, and Wyn Foster tended to trust his gut reactions. They had saved him plenty of times in growing up on a starship, as well as the back alley scraps of his teenage years.:: We’re running out of clean hemoglobin, and the power to replicate it. Therefore we need donations and the donated blood is infected. However now that the toxin is identified, the transporters can be programmed to scrub the toxin from the blood supply. ::He left off, not noting that it also might work with infected people as well. The risks were greater, and far more complicated. Besides, the man didn’t seem with it enough that Foster trusted him with the full scope of the information.::SOMEONE: ~ Prepare to act in 20 seconds. ~ASMARA: ~Acknowledge~ :: He tried to keep the doctor distracted. :: If you could provide me some samples for initial tests. :: He pauses to mental calculate his next moves. :: But I would like to work on science lab. I don't feel comfortable here on sickbay. In fact I just came here for a medical evaluation requested by Lt. Skykar. She---::There was little warning. Just a preemptive flicker and then as quickly as one would flip a switch all light died away, leaving a perfect silent blackness.::FOSTER: This is not supposed to happen…::And just like that the panic switch was hit. Sickbay went from a tense yet orderly chaos to a complete cacophony of hysteria. People started moving, screaming, running.::FOSTER: ::His voice was piercing. Raised among humans, he never had the traditional, soft, lisping tone that so many of his people had. And when need be, the little Andorian could project forcefully:: Everybody stop! Do not panic! Stay in your places, we will get the backups running.:: Immersed in an almost complete darkness, the angosian found quickly his way to the replicator. Guided by his memory and his ears he avoided all the obstacles. Near the replicator he crawled to avoid the green biped and tapped his device on it. A small but focused pulse of energy was released, frying the equipment and the nearby circuitry. Then he rolled back avoiding the science officer, who had already moved, and some orderlies. He quickly returned to his position and moved a little to the right to avoid suspicious. After that the emergency light came to live showing the complete chaos on the sickbay. ::ASMARA: What was that?FOSTER: Unknown power failure ::He was gritting his teeth, dashing to a panel to call up the information while keeping half an eye on his staff. He was worried - very worried - that if the lights had failed, so had the power to the systems keeping those in medical comas still alive. The answers he was getting back were not good. He was already running towards one of the biobeds before Tarsii could speak again.::ASMARA: Is the ship under attack?FOSTER: No clue. ::he gritted his teeth, staring at a medical tricorder and uttering a low curse under his breath. Whatever this was it had shorted the backup power. and vitals were falling.::ASMARA: Could you give me the samples? :: He pauses while receiving more information::FOSTER: Look, a bit busy here… ::Frustration was creeping into his voice, as he scanned another patient. Captain Blueheart was stable - thank the deities - but Crewman Kand was dangerously close to cardiac arrest.:: Nurse, administer 10ccs of Oxyhavaline and get me a cardiac stimulator. ::he paused long enough to afford the Angosian a glance:: Blood samples are on the table over there, Nurse Ocano can help you sort them out.ASMARA: Yes, I know Ms. Ocano.FOSTER: Good. I’ll check in with you as soon as I have this situation stabilized. ::Under his hands Kand started to shudder again, his breathing coming in pitiful little huffs. No matter how fast Wyn’s spindly fingers worked it didn’t seem fast enough. The power interruption had sent the young crewman into a downward spiral, and the internal bleeding came back with a vengeance. Through the hazy [...]tail of drugs the man was on, he fluttered his eyes and gasped for help::ASMARA: Good luck Foster. oO You will need a lot. Oo :: He gave a wry smile and headed to meet Ocano. ::FOSTER: Thanks… ::His gaze lift just in time to see Tarsii’s expression and Foster’s own formed into a very dark frown. Something was distinctly wrong with that man, and yet he didn’t have enough time or energy right now to put his finger on what. He turned back to his patient, feeling the sinking feeling of a ship sinking beneath his ministrations as Kand’s eyes rolled back into his head. he reached one hand up, leaving four bloody finger streaks across the faceplate of Foster’s Ev suit, even as he struggled to keep the man alive. With one final gasp, Kand’s heart beat it’s last and one more casualty was added to the ever growing list.:::: The device which had shown on Tarsii’s hand had just disappeared. There was no trace of it at his palm anymore. Wherever that technology come from, it was something very advanced. Ocano was finishing some reports and checking the medicine stock when Tarsii arrived to talked with her. ::ASMARA: You seem tired lady. :: He tried to express some compassion. ::OCANO: Hey you there science boy. :: She shown a weak smile. ::ASMARA: Foster asked you to give some blood samples.OCANO: He had told me that. :: He gave her the dishes previously separated. ::ASMARA: Thank you crewman.OCANO: Hey! Are you not forgetting something?ASMARA: :: He got scared. He feared to have been discovered. :: I think not, ma’am.OCANO: You told me that would like a second chance. Did you forget?ASMARA: oO Oh! The romance thing. You must acknowledge to avoid raise suspicious. Oo :: Trying to look ashmade. :: I´m a lucky man to have you to remember me. Can I accompany you to your quarters?OCANO: By all means science boy.:: As another nurse arrived to relieve Ocano and both headed away from the sickbay which was a complete mess. Ocano was not aware of the danger she was running into and Tarsii will not allow anyone to be between him and his mission. Not even the beautiful Ocano. Tarsii would have to find a way to disable Ocano without raising any suspicions. ::TBC--------A JP by:Ensign Tarcii AsmaraScience OfficerUSS AtlantisNCC-74682AndEnsign Shar’Wyn FosterMedical OfficerUSS Atlantis
  8. ((Main Science Lab, USS Atlantis)) ::Sovak huddled over a workstation in a dark corner of the Science Lab. Talens' departure from the Lab had been his opportunity to exit the area as well, but he believed his time was more logically spent here. The contributions of every person on Atlantis were required as their crewmates began to sicken or worse. Sovak would do what he could to help.:: ::He was reviewing data on the transporter biofiltration units. It was possible something had been missed. He was a computer programmer by training, and it was logical to use his skills to this end. He'd designed a quick algorithm to search historical records for relevant information while he examined the current findings. He tried to make the search go faster. Time was of the essence. Ren was somewhere, dying horribly.:: ::Tears welled in the Vulcan's eyes. He forced them down. Illogical.:: ::Perhaps, he thought, the search parameters could be narrowed with updated details on the pathogen and the related toxin. He pulled up the data from Sickbay, the latest information from their ongoing study. The toxin was insidious, unlike anything the records initially indicated. He keyed in the individual details of its known structure, rewriting the program to search for them individually. The toxin wasn't binding to Sovak's copper-based blood, but it was in Ren's red-blooded Trill composition, attacking his body, making him pale and weak as Sovak had seen on the viewscreen from the Observation Lounge. It was killing him, killing him. Quickly and brutally ending Ren's life.:: ::Illogical. Sovak fought back the tears, the gloom, the anger, perhaps. It was impossible to gauge just how many feelings were competing for position within him just at the moment. He was unaccustomed to several of them. Illogical. He must focus on the work. That was his best bet, the work. That was the logical use of his time.:: ::His knowledge of biological science was subpar, but he was confident that his ability to acquire information would make a difference. He would not get sick like the Terrans, Angosians, and more. He would carry the disease, but it would not kill him. He wondered if there was something to that difference. A way to trick the toxin into thinking it was somewhere else. Somewhere in the transporter matter stream? Illogical thought. Illogical.:: ::He would pour out every drop of his warm, green blood if it would heal Ren, if it would save the man he loved from death.:: ::Tears came, sobs, wracking, wrenching. There was logic to it. Considering the rate of the toxin's progession in Lt. Cummings, it was logical to assume that Ren could die quickly. Sovak tried to change the logic, to refactor the variables as he did with the computer. He couldn't do it. The logic, the logic. He'd never cried this way. Vulcans didn't teach their young how to behave in a panic attack. Illogical to teach a skill they should never require. He needed it now. He breathed rough breaths. Illogical emotions. No fighting them now. No logic could change it. Ren Rennyn might already be dead.:: Ensign Sovak Operations USS Atlantis NCC-74682 Simmed by LtJg. Rendal Rennyn
  9. ((Shuttlebay 1, USS Atlantis)) ::Back from the excursion with Dickens and Mitchell and some unexpected EJS ships, Ren landed his Type 9 shuttle quietly on the deck. That sound of metal resting on metal always surprised him with its softness. Sensors were still active, and Ren could see that the EJS ships weren't showing themselves to Atlantis. He wondered what they were doing out there. Maybe they were as scared of the three Starfleet officers as the officers were afraid of them. "Afraid" wasn't the right word. "Hesistant to engage" was more accurate.:: ::He went carefully through the post-flight checkout. Mitchell was in Bay 2, hurrying on his way to inform the captain of their encounter. The Trill took his time. He had other business to see to, something the captain hadn't quite asked of him, but had somehow suggested: He needed to check on Rover.:: ::Ren finished the sequence of procedures slowly, deliberately. It reminded him of a time when he'd been in too much of a hurry for his own good...:: ((Flashback - Arnmere, Trill - 20 years ago)) ::At thirteen years old, Ren Rennyn was the youngest pilot in the quiet town of Arnmere, deep in the farmlands of Trill. He'd already been flying three years, since the first time Miss Tanos from the next farm down the road took him up in her beat-up old shuttle and let him take the helm for a quick minute, as long as his parents weren't there to protest. He'd been hooked. He didn't know yet how far away from home he would fly one day, but he knew for now that he'd take any chance to get in some practice. That year, one of those chances presented itself from an unexpected source.:: ::Out of nine Rennyn kids, Rendal was the middle child. He was closest with his brother Fess and sister Vye, each one year apart from him in age. The littlest three Rennyns were still the littlest, and always would be. Thara, his older sister, was sixteen, and way too cool to even notice him any more. Then there were the oldest two boys, Norvil and Dirin. Dirin was nice enough to the younger siblings, but Norvil, the oldest of all of them, was, and always had been, distant.:: ::Ren idolized his oldest brother. His quiet reserve, his inner strength, his solid work effort, and the easy way he had of always following the rules. Ren wanted to follow the rules when he grew up. It was all he could do to keep himself from getting hollered at for five minutes at a time. Seemed he was always doing something wrong. Norvil never did anything bad. At nineteen, he was setting an example of good behavior and obedience that none of his siblings would ever live up to. Ren wanted to be just like him. Ren wanted to punch him in the face.:: ::It was the first light of the first day of the first break from school in months. The sun was rising on a glorious early summer morning with a sky as blue and as clear as you please. All the other thirteen-year-olds in Arnmere and the surrounding area were sleeping deeply at this hour, recovering from their tortuous studies by slumbering through to the hot daylight of noon. Ren had other plans. He was taking Miss Tanos' old shuttle for a joyride.:: ::She'd promised to let him go out alone if he made the grades at school, and his parents had agreed to the plan. He made those grades. Now, the day had come. All alone, coursing through the air, coasting up towards orbit, maybe picking up some friends and impressing them with dangerous maneuvers, if he thought he could get away with it.:: ::He did his preflight checks as carefully as he could. He was going to forget to be careful later, and take risks, and probably get into trouble. For the moment, he was trying his best to take it slow and do what was right. He was a good kid at heart, just exuberant and given to take risks. He was quiet at times, but he was social by nature. In a big family, you had to be. In a small community, you had to be.:: ::The hatch closed on the shuttle, sealing Ren in. Alone in a shuttle for the first time. He folded his tall, growing form into the pilot's chair. He worked the controls with his awkwardly large teenage hands, warming up the drive, making final checks. Norvil and Dirin might look down on him as still just a kid, while they were both starting in on college and impressing everyone with their plans for the future. But neither of them had done anything like this. Ren almost couldn't wait for the moment when he'd see them that night and tell them everything he'd accomplished on his own, without anyone's help.:: ::He tapped the sluggish old controls. It would be surprising if this rust bucket could even break orbit. Miss Tanos and his parents had forbidden that anyway. With the push of one more button, he was on his way. His finger stretched toward it. He started to say out loud: "Engage.":: ::There was a tap on the window. Ren jumped, drawing his hand back from the controls. He looked up at the screen to his left. He had dreamed of seeing stars and the blackness of space out of that window. He'd have rather seen livestock out that window than what was there. Norvil, his perfect older brother, the idol whose shadow he lived in, was knocking on the window from outside, and he was trying to say something to Ren, something that couldn't be heard, but looked a lot like "Let me in!":: ((Shuttlebay 1, USS Atlantis)) ::Ren worked down his post-flight checklist, while he thought about a day he'd spent flying with his oldest brother, Norvil, many years ago.:: ((Flashback - Arnmere, Trill - 20 years ago)) ::At the age of thirteen, Ren Rennyn had barely begun to explore the depth and breadth of his wild-eyed temper. He'd been angry, he'd been frustrated, he'd been heated up and hopping mad. But the time when his effortlessly perfect, immaculately calm, everyone's-favorite-son older brother Norvil showed up to ruin Ren's first solo shuttle flight was the first time that the quick-tempered, much-overlooked middle Rennyn child ever blew a whole entire gasket.:: NORVIL: Take me with you. ::Ren had mechanically, obediently opened the hatch to let his brother in to the battered old shuttle. This was supposed to be his big day, his first solo flight. He was a little to shocked to say anything about it for the moment, finding himself not solo at all.:: REN: Why? NORVIL: Because. I'm your cool older brother. ::Norvil helped himself to a seat, the co-pilot's chair next to his kid brother. It seemed like years since the 19-year-old Norvil gave any sign of interest in spending time with Rendal. Ren could hardly believe there wasn't another motive at work here.:: REN: You can't go with me. NORVIL: Sure I can! I want to spend time with my kid brother! ::That was it for Ren. It wasn't the "kid" part that set him over the edge. It was the lie.:: REN: You Can't Go With Me! Miss Tanos said I could go! Mom and Dad said I could go! You can't go! You're nothing but a low-down, no-account, over-bearing, evil-minded, life-ruining... b-... b-... life ruiner!! Get outta my shuttle! ::Norvil was laughing hysterically so that tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Tantrums held no weight with an older brother. Not even with a good reason behind them.:: NORVIL: You should see your face! It's so red! REN: It is not! Why won't you leave?! ::Ren was sticking to his seat. If he got up and got any closer to his big brother, he didn't know what he'd do. The blood hadn't just risen to his face. It was rising from his heart, steaming out his ears, flowing to his hands, which he couldn't stop balling up in fists. If he hit Norvil, if he made those perfect, good-boy green eyes turn black and blue, it would be as though he'd attacked the whole family. The perfect older brother, everyone's favorite son, damaged by Ren, the screw-up, the bad kid, the one it would be easy to write off as a lost cause while they fawned over their poor, injured favorite. Ren imagined what it would be like to be kicked out of the house, out of the family. He kept his hands to himself.:: NORVIL: It's not your shuttle. You can't say who gets to go. REN: GET OUT!! ::Ren was finally out of his seat. He wasn't about to take being told who he could and couldn't kick out. The shuttle might be borrowed, but he'd earned his time in it. Norvil was working on earning that black eye. Ren didn't strike, but his awkward, lanky teenage body language tried to threaten. Norvil laughed harder.:: NORVIL: You couldn't hurt me if you tried. Why don't you sit down and fly us out of here? REN: What do you want? NORVIL: I want to go with you on your flight, Ren. Come on, why not? REN: Because it's MY flight. I'm going on my own for the first time. I'm going to fly around over town so everyone can see me. I'm going to fly clear to Ledaro and see the city from above. I'm going to kick my feet up and cruise through the clouds till the day grows long. You. Can't. Go. ::Norvil sat forward and spread his hands wide in surrender.:: NORVIL: Okay, okay. Fine. I guess you're right, I shouldn't ruin your day in the clouds. You'll never go wrong with a nice sky full of clouds. It's just too bad you can't think bigger than that. ::He stood and went to the hatch. Just before he pressed the control to open it, Ren let his curiosity get the better of him.:: REN: I'll bite. How could I think bigger? ::Norvil walked back and took his seat again.:: NORVIL: By breaking the atmosphere. By going to the Orbital Platform. ::Ren couldn't believe what he was hearing.:: REN: You've never done one wrong thing in your life. You know I'm not allowed to fly into space. Miss Tanos has friends on the Orbital Platform. They'd report us back to her in a second. I can't believe you'd ever suggest that. How do you think we'd ever get away with it? ::Norvil leaned across and grabbed his kid brother by the neck, a gesture that simultaneously threatened and offered protection, like only an older brother could do.:: NORVIL: Because, kid brother - I have a friend on the Orbital Platform, too. And you and I are going there. We're going to break atmosphere. We're going to dock with the station. And no one is ever going to hear about it... ((Shuttlebay 1, USS Atlantis)) ::As he finished the post-landing checklist on his shuttle, Ren's memory skipped forward through the details of that long-ago launch with his oldest brother, Norvil. He was sure he had been nervous, afraid to falter in front of his perfect brother. But everything went fine. Even at 13, Ren was a capable pilot. And, sanctioned by the family's favorite son, he broke the atmosphere and flew right up into space that day.:: ::And everything went smoothly, for a while. As it turned out, Norvil didn't just have a friend on the Orbital Platform. He had a girlfriend...:: ((Flashback - Orbital Platform, Trill - 20 years ago)) ::Up in space, everything was backwards. At home on the farm outside of Arnmere, Ren was always getting in trouble, always doing something wrong. And Norvil, the oldest of the nine Rennyn siblings, always did everything right. But at 19, home from college for the summer, Norvil had finally done something wrong. He'd insisted on breaking the rules and taking their borrowed shuttle out of the atmosphere, into space. And now Ren, who never cared about breaking the rules, was sick to his stomach with worry and guilt.:: REN: We should go back. We'll get in trouble. We should go back. NORVIL: Relax. Zoann has our back on this. REN: She's your girlfriend? ::He wrinkled his nose. They'd exited their shuttle and were walking down a hallway full of people. Trills mostly, but more aliens than they ever saw in Arnmere. The Orbital Platform was a hub of activity for travelers to and from the planet. In season, they could see it from Arnmere, on a clear night. Ren had always dreamed of going there. He'd never dreamed he would fly there himself, aged 13.:: NORVIL: We met at school. Her dad works up here. She pulled some strings to let us dock. And there she is... ::The beautiful Trill girl at the end of the corridor, waving to them and beaming brightly, would one day be Ren's sister-in-law. But that first time he saw her, he thought he'd never seen a more citified, spaceified, non-country Trill woman in his life. He was sure Mom and Dad would never approve if Norvil brought her home. Ren loved her instantly.:: ::The two brothers continued to walk towards her. Ren felt important, being the first in the family to meet Norvil's girlfriend. Not that they could tell anyone about any of this. The trip to space would have to be their secret.:: ::Suddenly, Norvil was grabbing him, turning him back the way they'd come.:: NORVIL: Back. Back to the shuttle! ::Ren looked over his shoulder to see Zoann waving them away, her face an odd mixture of amusement and terror. Two security agents were following them. Norvil and Ren broke into a run.:: ::It seemed the crowd got thicker the moment they needed to get through it. They fought their way back to the docking ring. Ren was in the shuttle and starting the launch sequence like a flash. But Norvil was standing in the open door.:: REN: Get in here! I told you we'd be in trouble! NORVIL: We lost them. And she's coming! ::Ren turned to see Zoann show up at the hatch. It seemed impossible that she was there before the guards. That she was raised on this station was obvious.:: ::Norvil and Zoann's dopey smiles were a perfect match. When they kissed, Ren could only roll his eyes and turn back in his chair, slapping the console in frustration. They were definitely in trouble.:: ::The lovers managed to part themselves, as the guards were coming down the hall. Norvil somehow brought himself to close the hatch, and Zoann pressed the manual release, allowing them to separate the shuttle from the station. Ren figured that without her, they never would have escaped. So, for now, he still liked her a lot.:: REN: She seemed nice. NORVIL: Shut up. Fly! ::Only teenagers would think they could dock and undock a registered ship without being caught. Back home on the surface, a world of trouble awaited them. Ren was grounded in every sense, barred from flying for endless, unbearable months. But knowing he'd been in space, and being able to tell everyone about it after all, was definitely worth it. Norvil's reputation as the perfect son was stained for life. That kiss from Zoann, so he claimed, was worth it.:: ::It was good to know that Norvil was a little less perfect than they all thought. And maybe that meant Ren had some hope of not being a total screw up. One thing, though, was certain. At 13, Ren was very sure he was never going to let love make him do anything that crazy, as long as he lived.:: ((End Flashback - Shuttlebay 1, USS Atlantis)) ::Ren chuckled, remembering how simple love had seemed then. How avoidable, if you wanted. That hadn't lasted long.:: :: He wondered what Norvil and Zoann were doing today. Despite their different backgrounds, they'd found a way to get together. Their kids were evidence of that. Ren was homesick thinking of his family.:: ::The post-flight checks were done. He downloaded his sensor data to Atlantis in case it helped Mitchell tell the captain what they'd encountered out there. Ren walked out of his shuttle and found Commander Dickens exiting his. Ren made his way out of the shuttlebay, eager to find Rover and make sure he wasn't causing any more trouble on Atlantis. With the Cloud Dancer, it was Ren's turn to be the big brother, and to be the responsible one.:: LtJg. Rendal Rennyn Helm Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682
  10. Though, I Walk Through the Valley of Death, Don't Follow Me, I'm Lost ((Surgical Suite- deck 4, USS GEMINI)) ::Reid was waiting for his surgical team to get themselves transferred from the USS Wyoming, to the USS Gemini's sickbay during the middle of a battle with a Klingon K't'inga heavy battle cruiser. He realized it had taken him awhile to be tansferred, Why should it be any less time for his crew? It all started aboard the USS Wyoming, where he had been working triage, and then sent to surgery to mend the wounded casualties by patching them up, help stabilize them, storing them anywhere there was a little space, prior to them being shipped out. Then it happened: two severely critical casualties requiring more than a simple patch, a temporary fix, temporary storage, and transportation elsewhere were assigned to me. But, I am beginning to get ahead of myself. Let us stop here, and back up to the first stage of scrubbing up for Surgery.:: Reid took the opportunity to take a sonic shower aboard the USS Gemini. While in the shower, Reid had time to reflect on the events that he had been through for the past few days,. First, he was stationed abroad the USS Wyoming, which had rendezvoused wth the USS Gemini, and both Starfleet vessels then responded to a distress hail. The USS Hermmes had come under attack by a K't'inga class, a Klingon heavy battle cruiser. They had placed a distress signal they were under attack, and requested immediate help. When both vessels had reached the USS Hermmes, it had already been boarded by Klingon boarding parties, and the K't'inga cruiser had already caused major damage to the Hermmes ship systems, and havoc among the crew. The USS Wyoming had been attacked first. So, it had taken on more casualties, than the USS Gemini, at this point. So, the casualties started piling up, even more, amongst the Hermmes crew during the intense fighting within. Then the USS Gemini had sent a Marine SAR team abroad the USS Hermmes, to capture the marauding Klingon boarding parties. Soon the SAR team reported mass causualties among the USS Hermmes crew. Then the Gemini's boarding parties began to take on casualties trying to accomplish their mission. It wasn't long before the USS Gemini came under intensive bombardment from the Klingon K't'inga creating their own set of problems, and casualties. Reid had already started triage of the wounded, then transferred himself into a surgical suite, and went to work performing "meatball" surgery aboard the Wyoming.:: "Meatball" surgery consisted of patching the body from within through any required surgery that helped ensure the patient's survival, and stabilization. Once accomplished, the patient had a better chance to survive being transpoted to another medical facility. At that facility, the patient would undego more of the required surgery, further treatment, and necessary care to facilitate the patient's healing process, and recovery. ::While waiting for the next set of wounded casualties, He had been summoned to the Captain's ready room. Once their, his life was about to undergo a drastic change. Starfleet Command gave him orders to permanently serve aboard the USS Gemini, as a surgeon. He had been transferred before, but this was the first time he was transferred during a battle. Due to the battle raging on between the three Starfleet vessels, and the Klingon K't'inga, further casualties kept occurring. Reid tried to report for duty aboard the USS Gemini, but could not find anyone with authority, who would be able to take his orders. He finally settled for a tired Gemini Doctor, who had sat down briefly to get a moment's rest. She sent him to triage immediately, and then he reported to surgery to continue more "meatball" surgery. Two severely injured Starfleet officers came in, and Reid was ordered to handle their cases. Reid found out his request for his surgical team to be given orders for the USS Gemini was granted. So, while waiting, he went and personally checked on the two severely injured patients, and had them start being prepped for surgery, and kept watch until the team came aboard. Meanwhile, he was now, himself, preparing himself for surgery, an had started with a sonic shower. When he came out, he was met by a nurse, who came into the locker room while he was changing into scrubs. He turned around and there was the nurse standing there waiting for him. Reid thought to himself, oO Good thing I have my scrub trousers on Oo. He started to say something, and realized he didn't have a scrub shirt on. He immediately scrambled around through his things looking for his scrub shirt. Meanwhile, the nurse tried to hold it in, but eventually broke out laughing at the comedy before her. Reid stood up slowly realized he'd been had. Especially, when the nurse brought out a scrub shirt from behind her back. He reached for the scrub shirt, and said:: Reid: "Excuse me, nurse". ::Reid reached out and took the scrub shirt, and quickly threw it over his head, and slid it down to waist. He then tugged at it to straightened it out:: "And you are"? Nurse: PO 2C Benntiere, Surgical Nurse Specialist. Doctor. Thinking oO Oh boy, now I'm in for it. Oo Reid: Just how long have you been standing there? Meanwhile, Reid had a strange thought, oO Why do all surgical people have a sense of humor? I experienced it on the USS Wyoming, and it looks like there is going to be few pranksters here Oo :: Reid knew that different people had their little quirks. Everyone dealt with their assignments many different ways. :: Nurse: Long enough! ::long pause:: Remember, you invited me to join your surgical team today. I am just reporting in as ordered. Reid: ::putting his hand on the sore spot on his head.:: Ouch! All right, consider yourself reporting as ordered. Go find the chief surgical nurse, PO 1C Bothenet. Benntiere: Aye, Dr. Reid! ::She turned, and walked out of the Dr's lounge.:: ::as Reid straightened up, he looked around to see if anyone else heard the nurse's snide remark, "long enough." The remark made him blush, as he thought, oO Ok! Just how much did she see? Oo. Reid walked out the door, and went over to Lt. Applewood's biobed. He type in the patient's chart code, looked at data on her monitor, and shut off the overhead sensor cluster. He was checking just how much her hypovolemic pressure had dropped. At that precise instant he heard a voice say from behind him:: Knightling: The patient's pressure has not dropped significant enough to warrant any treatment at this time. Reid: ::turning Reid said:: Thank you doctor Knightling. You know I check everything myself just as a secondary precaution. ::Then he heard another voice off to his left. He turned to his left, and saw Dr. Treadway, and his entire surgical team. Inside Reid was ecstatic, but on the outside, he remained emotionless. After all he had a reputation to uphold. Treadway: Lt. Vetonia Treadway, and team, reporting as ordered Cmdr. Reid. ::Reid was glad to see her once more. He looked behind her, and saw his whole team waiting for orders. Reid began to speak:: Reid: It is good to see you all once more. ::pause:: I need you all to scrub up, and change into fresh scrubs for surgery. Prepare the suite for a double surgery, and on the duo tables set up support frames onto both tables. I will explain later. Also, someone test the overhead sensor clusters, establish stasis force fields, and the decontamination fields over the patients; until we are ready to do surgery. Two of you med tech's will report to the morgue, and see if you can be of assistance. That means you 2Classmans Ped, and Pod. 1Classman Posh, I need you to assist overseeing the establishment of the different fields on the patients biobeds. Test them now, to make sure everything works. During surgery,would not be the best time to discover faulty fields. 1Classman Posh: Aye, Dr. Reid. ::Posh left to perform the testing of all fields. Then he went to complete other duties before surgery got underway. Ped, and Pod didn't say anything. They just followed their orders, and went to the morgue to assist the already busy Gemini crew.:: Lt. Treadway, I need you to go over to triage, and see if you can assist somehow. If they don't need you come back and prep yourself for surgery. Treadway: Aye Doctor Reid. ::she dismissed herself, and walked over to the triage area.:: Reid: The rest of you,who have not received any orders, just start performing your normal duties for surgery preparations like lyou always perform. Dismissed! ::Reid heard an assortment of different responses with ayes, and they all headed to their assignments. Reid turned around and checked the neural calipers report for both patients. Another vital sign measured during surgery. oO This is not good.Oo thought Reid, oO It indicates the patient's vital signs have dropped to serious levels. But, they counterindicate the neural caliper readings. Anymore readings like this, and we'll have to operate immediately, or we will lose these patientsOo. Reid turned to head back into the surgical suite, looked up, and saw an unfamiliar officer walking towards him, Dr. Brooke Zandra he presumed. Reid was going to wait for her, but then she suddenly changed direction. Reid contemplated briefly oO After all the wounded, dead, and dying I have seen today, I can truly say, "Though, I walk through the valley of death" Oo, Reid had to stop a moment, and recompiled his thought pattern. With Dr. Zandra coming towards him, then abruptly changing directuon, it gave him inspiration. Reid could honesty think, oO "Though I Walk Through the Valley Of Death, Don't Follow Me, I'm Lost". Oo ::Part II:: ::When everything was in order, and ready for surgery to Reid's expectations, he called his team together, and began to give the team pertinent information on the two new cases.:: Reid: I have called you here to relay news pertaining to our surgery cases. We have been reassigned new emergency surgical cases. We will not be doing our usual "meatball surgery" this time. I will let Doctor Treadway explain. Doctor Treadway you're up! Treadway: Surgical team staff, We have just received new emergency cases of two casualties from the USS HERMMES. One, a male ensign, and the second is a female Lieutenant. Both have received wounds the from the fighting, and also have sustained further injuries from being tortured. I suspect they both have internal bleeding as the result of torture. They both are in critical condition, and it could go either way for the Lieutenant, as it appears she has sustained more severe injuries than the Ensign. Neural Caliper testing showed how serious the internal wounds have affected their different biological systems. For now, they have been placed in a state of induced comas, and administered hypocoagulants to slow any internal bleeding. PO 1C Bothernet: I never liked Klingons, as most of you know they killed my parents. Reid: Alright, team, we will leave our personal feelings at the door. When we go through those doors, and work at the surgical tables there will be no time for emotions. Bothernet: Sorry, sir, I didn't mean it, the way it sounded like. Reid: That's all right nurse Bothernet. I, too, lost my father during the Battle of Wolf, in the Klingon Civil War. Now, I suggest no more interruptions until I finish the briefing. I will answer any questions at the proper time. For now, you will all conduct yourselves in a professional status. Now, you are all dismissed. Report to your stations, and see they are ready once the surgery begins. Nurse Bothenet, give the team their surgical assignments. Bothenet: Listen up for your assignment. PO 1C Trusk, you are the surgical nurse anesthesiologist. PO 3Cs Posh & PO 2C Cogshell, the surgery med tech's, PO 1C Bothenet, the chief surgical nurse, PO 2C Benntiere the assistant surgical nurse, 1st Classman medic Tep, will cross type & match blood type, will provide the dextrose, saline, and lactate ringers IVs, and provide any necessary lab tests & results during surgery. Team, dis-missed! :: All the team members responded with their proper Ayes, and left for their different stations to get them ready for the duo surgery procedure.:: Reid: Doctor Treaway, you will come with me to check on the Lieutenant. What is her name again? Treadway: ::pulling up her medical tricorder, and pressing a few well placed buttons:: Her name is Margot Applewood, Lt, Communications, USS Hermmes. She is middle aged, her last physical has her in a great phyisue. She is married, and the mother of two children. Her family is quartered on Starbase 118. :pause: Do you want her current testing, and results, Doctor? Reid: No, Doctor, you can send the results of all testing to her biobed overhead sensory cluster, and then to the surgical monitors. We can review them during the actual surgeries. I'd prefer to run our own tests, then compare the two results. By the way Doctor, has anyone run a second neural caliper test on them both to establish a comparison baseline. Treadway: Evidently, she was scheduled for one, but she took a turn for the worst. So, no second neural caliper testing was done. That, is when I placed her into a state of induced coma. It has slowed down all her life forces; inclusive of bleeding. Reid: Send one neural caliper test program when we get into surgery, and run the test immediately. Now, tell me about this young ensign. What is his name, and background? Treadway: ::rerouting the data, the Medical tricorder once more delivered the Ensign's data:: His name is Jhanon T'Lar, he is a young male,half Bajoran, and half terran, in his early twenties, Ensign, Engineering, recently transferred to the USS HERMMES. It also says he was having a relationship with a young Ensign from Astrophysics. Her name is Erma Hines, and is currently listed as MIA. As with the Lt's scan results, I will send his to the biobed overhead sensory clusters and then to the surgery monitors. Also, do you want to run a neural Caliper test as well? Reid: Affirmative! Send the test scans to their biobeds, and run a second set of scans and tests for the team's review. Then, set up a final third program, run the Neural Caliper test on the Ensign, and I will run the final test on Lt. Applewood. Then send the test results to the surgical suite monitors, and we shall review the test data during surgery. To save time, you take the Ensign T'Lar, and I will take Lt. Applewood to expedite matters. ::they both went to the their perspective assignments, and begin running all tests, and scans; inclusive of the Neural Calipers scans. When they had finished all the tests, and scans, they returned together, and compared all data reports on the two patients.:: Reid: I was afraid of this. All data relays internal injuries, and bleeding to different biological systems, but they both are registering hypoglycemic shock. Worse yet, the injuries are indicative of having been sustained by different types of torture. Lt. Applewood's torture seemed more severe than Ensign T'lar's. oO If only the age differences. were reversed Oo, thought Reid, oO then the Lt.'s ability for survival would be a better gamble. As it is the Ensign has a better chance of pulling through Oo. "Inform Dr. Knightling he will assist as cardiologist, and assist me as a neurologist. I will act as the neurologist, and provide the brain surgery, You will be the Nephrologist,Urologist, and assist me In orthopedics for the rib cage restoration only. Both caseloads will then be turned over to Dr. Zandra,and Dr. Whale, who will treat any burns, suture any lacerations, repair any remaining fractuded, and treat all confusions, and bruising. Please make a list of these assignments, notify the surgeons involvement in their perspective surgical duties. Have chief surgical nurse, Bothenet to set a final schedule for all enlisted medical team staff. Treadway: Aye, Doctor Reid. Right away. Reid: The next step is to take Lt. Applewood out of her state of induced coma, and if she shows signs she can survive the surgery, have the med techs take her into the prepping area. You stay with her, and monitor her vital signs while they prep her. Afterwards, you then go scrub, change into surgical scrubs, and join the team in the surgical suite. The med techs can transport her into the suite when we are ready. Notify all the surgeons, we will have a short meeting to put us all on the same page before we actually begin the surgery. Let us get 'er done! ::Dr. Treadway went to comply with her orders. Reid headed into the scrubbing room, where he headed to the food replicator, ordered Irish Breakfast Tea, and a cinnamon scone. He had a few minutes to snack before he had to rescrub, and then change into clean scrubs himself. Then his fight with death would begin once again. He personally didn't like to lose.:: ::Act III:: While Lt. Applewood was being prepped surgery, the three Docors were in conference discussing the upcoming procedures. All of them were standing around the replicator. The scene reminded REID of office personnel on break, congregating around the old water cooler, discussing the work day's events. Reid had estimated the surgery would last anywhere from 12 to 36 hours. Reid knew Ensign T'Lar would lose more opportunity to a full recovery, and rehabilitation, if he had to wait his turn for surgery. Since all three surgeons were going to have to wait or risk getting in each other's way, Reid had developed an earlier unique plan. Instead of wasting time prolonging the surgery, Reid informed the surgeons they were all going to practice a quick run through, after he informed them of his plan.:: Reid: Gentlemen, I propose we all operate on both patients, to facilitate any healing process, rehab, and recovery, at the same time, in the same suite. Each of us would be operating on different areas of both patients, without getting into each other's way. This would allow us to perform our particular surgical skills, and expertise, while also creating opportunities to help each other out as indicated, where needed at a particular moment. What are your opinions on the issue? Knightling: It could just work at that, and each of us can have independent mobility when treating the different wounds on both patients at the same time. Treadway: It would also allow each of us to perform our skills at some point when individuality nessistates specialized surgery on specific organs, or body parts. The other two can provide cover any general surgery abandoned for any specialized surgical opportunity, at a given notice. Knightling: It also permits us to finish up a technique on one patient, then hop across to the other patient, and repeat any necessary surgery on the other, if needed. This gives us greater latitude, mobility, and freedom to act either independently, or together on their wounds, and repair any internal organsy that may have been damaged. Reid: Suffice to say it is going to be a great undertaking in of itself. Doctors, we are all tired from all the emergency surgeries we performed ever since this battle started, but I believe in all of you. ::Reid paused for a moment to gather his thoughts:: Doctors, after going through all the test results, amount of injuries found, and medications necessary for the healing process, one would feel we are ready. But, we need to address another issue facing us. Therefore, I have asked Dr. Zandra to join us in the surgery briefing. At the moment, she is scrubbing up for surgery, and putting on fresh scrubs. She will join us shortly. Then, I will start the briefing. ::Posh, and Cogshell, the two supporting medic came into the surgery suite, and notified Doctor Reid, the patient Lt. Applewood was prepped, and ready to be brought into the suite. At that time, Reid informed them to also prep Ensign T'lar for surgery as well. Reid informed them only of the plan for this team of Surgeons to perform duo surgery procedures. Then Reid gave them two additional orders, one to get Ensign T'Lar prepped for surgery, and to have him ready within the next thirty minutes, as the plan was to start both surgeries, at that time. Also, would one of them go and inform Dr. Zandra to finish scrubbing, and meet the surgeons in the surgical suite within 15 minutes. That would be the exact time, the surgery briefing for the doctors would begin. Reid then dismissed the two med tech's, and they left the suite. Reid headed back to the surgery table, and began to review the surgical plan one final time. He picked up the padd contain the plans, and began to read the concepts of the plan. Reid also reviewed Bajoran physiology, concerning Ensign T'Lar, half Bajoran, and half terran.:: ((Timeslip - 15 minutes ahead)) :Reid had been going through all of the plans, and even renewed reading all of the medical tests and scans. He set down the padd and had to rub his eyes to clear his vision. He heard the sound of the turbodoors emit their tell tale swish sound, when they opened, and When they closed. He removed his hands from his tired eyes. After all, he was feeling exhausted from having been doing surgery from the moment the Klingons started the recent fiasco causing many casualties that required his trained surgical skills, and years of experience. He felt every muscle, even a few that he hardly used. The only reprieve for rest, came when he had transferred to the Gemini. And that was a very short reprieve at that. In the back of his mind, Reid was fearful he would soon pass his exhaustion point, and move into the fatigue realm. Reid thought oO I am going to have to increase my workouts,marathon style, as if I were going mountaineering.Oo. He turned to see Dr. Zandra walking towards him once again. This time she stayed for the briefing, as she went over to the replicator. Their, she met Dr. Reid who was ordering something to drink.:: ::Part IV:: Zandra, and Reid had finished their drinks, and as they were wrapping up their conversation, Reid looked at his wrist chronometer. He noted 14 minutes had passed, so he politely excused himself, and walked to the front of the suite. Where he grabbed his padd, and began the briefing:: Reid: Doctors, please gather round, and find a seat wherever you can. I will start the briefing, because the med tech's will soon be bringing both Ensign T'Lar, and Lt. Applewood. These are our two patients for this surgery. I am now giving you some background on them. They were both serving on the USS Hermmes, when the Klingons attacked their vessel. In the end, most of the ship's crew compliment either ended up wounded,dead,or dying. Though, there were a few survivors, these two were part of the luckiest survivors, if you can call them lucky, for what they have been through. They were rescued by an away team of Marines from the USS Gemini, on a SAR mission. Whom I understand the SAR team had suffered injuries as well. All survivors, Marines inclusive had suffered ranging from mild to major injuries. These two casualties are our main concern for the moment. I believe all the Marine personnel are being treated by the Gemini Doctors, as I speak. ::paused to clear his throat:: Tests have shone Lt. Applewood has suffered a trauma induced aneurysm on her brain, a tear to her spleen, causing excessive internal bleeding. I have used a hypocoagulant to control her internal bleeding. She had a multiple fractured ribs, some peripheral nerve damage to her extremities. She has also suffered burns, either from phasrer fire, or some other force, as well as, multiple contusions, lacerations, and bruises over the greater part of her body. She stands a 20% chance of survival from the operation. She had also many nails torn off her fingers and toes, and a few broken digits, on her left hand. There were also some filletinig done to her dermal skin layers on her extremities. But, we are not done writing her off, just yet. If, I have my way, this is one battle, I mean to see death lose, by keeping her alive. Tests have shone Ensign T'Lar is suffering from a fractured skull, a subderual hemotoma, fractured jaw, at the tempo-mandibular joint, and multiple fractures to the right humerous bone, left radial, and ulnar bones in the forearms, a damaged left midney, left tibia and fibular bones in the lower left leg, right torn Achilles tendon, torn lateral meniscus tear and medial meniscus tear in his right knee, and multiple lacerations, confusions, and bruises over 50% of his body. He is also going to need extensive dental work, Also, multiple digit fractures to fingers & toes. He is also missing multiple areas of dermal skin to the extremities; due to filleting type torture. Be advised most of these injuries were caused from extensive torture, not combat, by renegade Klingon mercenaries. Whatever information the Klingons got as a result of torture, May the infomation turn out to be false. It appears the two Starfleet officers paid dearly, as they were willing to be sacrificed, even die, to protect whatever they were guarding. They both have suffered Blunt Force Trauma, or NOT. Teeth pulling, nails removed, broken digits, skin filleting, and burns done in a 1-3" diameters, meaning controlled, on different areas of the extremities. To damage being committed internally, they have both been placed in a state of induced comas. That, doctors, wraps up the briefing. Are there any questions? Treadway: Dr. Reid, there were other injuries suffered by these two officers? Reid: Thank you for bringing up the question, doctor. As a result of imprisonment, and torture, both officers were also suffering from severe dehydration, and malnutrition. My guess the Klingons were not planning for these officers to survive the ordeal, or they would have provided food and water, and done less intrusive, and traumatic ways for getting the info. I believe the inflicted trauma was done for the Klingons sadistic pleasures, from ritual sacrifices. Knightling: Dr. Reid, what test, and scans, were used to detect the injuries these two officers. Reid: Those tests were a combination of Magnetic Resonance Imagining (MIR), CT scans, vital signs and neural calipers, biomolecular scans, angiography scans, CFS analysis, EEG & EKG scans, and multiple lab testing, such as urine analysis, Blood analysis, etc. Please be advised these tests can be looked at on all the doctors monitors, and will be available throughout the multiple surgeries procedures. These will be the assignments, since I have had to change them a second time. They are not written in stone. But, they are subject to change. Ben Trusk, PO 1C will be the nurse anesthesiologist, and he will handle the anesthesia. Pence Tep, 1st Classman medic - pathologist, Glenn Cogshell- PO 2C - hemotologist, Tep, and Cogshell will be the surgical Medics, Dr. D.A. Knightling - Cardiologist, Dr. Vetonia Treadway - Nephrologst, Urologist, and assistant orthopedics, and Dr. Reid, me - Neurologist, the brain, and orthopedics for the ribs only. We have a guest here today. She is PO 2C Benntiere, surgical nurse specialist. She will be working with our surgical nurse specialist, Bothenet. She has requested to join our surgical team, so today she is going through orientation the hard way, on the job training. She is formerly a survivor from the USS Hermmes. Nurse Bothenet, I would like you to note, Nurse Benntiere was offered some time alone, before the team tryout. She refused, citing she needed to get back to work immediately, to help her through grieving for the loss of her friends in the Hermmes medical department. Bothenet: Aye, Dr. Reid, I will see it noted in her record. Reid: Thank you, nurse. Let me finish up the job assignments. Where was I? Ah, yes, Dr. Zandra. ::Reid continued:: Dr. Brooke Zandra, since your primary focus is on contagious diseases, epidemiology, and also a general practitioner. You will be working with Dr. Shelley Whale, another general practitioner, who both will handle all fractures, except the ribs, suture all lacerations, and will deal with the contusions, and bruising. They both will treat all burns, with phisohex scrubbing, and use dermaline ointment to treat all burns. After the surgery is completed, they will see to the administration of Germyciillin, 600 units to start, an antibiotic that will be administered to both patients by Dr. Zandra, and Dr. Whale, after taking over Ensign T'lar, and Lt. Applewood cases. During this time they will also work to control the malnutrition, and dehydration suffered by both patients. Also, after the surgery is finished, both cases will be turned over to them, Surgeons please note, all three of us will be on standby, should something occur with the patients that requires our assistance. ::Reid had just finished the briefing, just as Trusk wheeled up the two anesthesia carts, and placed one each at the table heads, and hooked up the machines, monitors, and both Overhead Sensory Clusters to the biobed monitors. Cogshell uploaded the tests results and scans into the work place monitors of each doctor. Before dsimissing the doctors to allow them to go and scrub a final time, Reid said:: Reid: Doctors, I wish you success in all your endeavors around the tables today. You are all dismissed. ::Everyone left to go to the doctors locker room to scrub, and change into fresh scrubs. Meanwhile, the operating room came to life. All the team staff members came to life, as well. Instrument trays were set in each of the work places. Surgical Head nurse Debra Bothernet, Reid's chief nurse, and nurse Benntiere checked each of the trays for the full compliments, and checked to make sure each instrument was working properly. The instrument tray contained one Thrombic Modulator, medical recorder, laser scalpel with 4 laser settings, hyposprays unloaded, a dermal regenerator, and an osteogenic stimulator. A second tray was set up with any additional equipment needed by each Surgeon pertaining to his specialty assignment at each Surgeon Nurse's station, just off to the side of each surgeon. A third tray contained medicine in drug cartridges relevant to each Doctor's assignment. Next, Bothernet made sure the cardiac resuscitation cart was placed within easy reach of the two surgical tables, in case of cardiac arrest. Each surgeon's nurse was responsible for checking out all three trays at each of the different surgical stations prior to the beginning of the surgical procedures. Nurse Bothernet, and Nurse Bennitere the surgical nurses, each turned on, and checked each support frame to check if it was in operating condition, before it would be placed over the patient's chest, and trunk regions. Trusk, the nurse anesthesiologist, was responsible to see the anesthesia cart was filled with different anesthetic gases, the anesthetic equipment, the oxygen tanks, the gas tanks were full, the anesthetic equipment accessories were operational, and readily available. All Trusk needed was Dr. Reid, the head Surgeon, to pick what anesthetic gas he wished to use. He would find that out when Dr. Reid asked for a specific gas to be used. The medic technicians, Posh, and Cogshell were to stand by, and be the runners, or "go-for" in case, the doctors and nurses needed anything; inclusive of food, and drink. Nurse Bothernet, the head surgical nurse, was to double check the overhead lighting system was set, and ready to be turned on when the surgeries started. THE last function of Benntiere, the surgical nurse, was to make sure an adequate amount of gloves, and masks were available in the doctor's, and the surgical nurse's sizes were available. The nurse then would help the surgeon don the gloves, and mask. Each nurse was then to assist a surgeon throughout the entire operation. When everything met the Head Nurse's approval, she would then have the med techs bring in both patients, and they were to lock down the air driven bio beds into their locking mechanisms. Then she would establish, and maintain the stasis field during the operation of any decontamination, and containment, to prevent the patients from getting infections. The surgeons, by this time, would be having the gloves, and masks help being donned by his surgical nurse. Then as Reid would say, let's get 'er done, and they would all concentrate on each of their own surgical tasks. The surgery would begin:: ::Part V:: ::The surgical procedure started with the nurse anesthesiologist, PO C1 Trusk, responsible for removing the patients from their induced comatose state. The N.A. used a combination of anesthezine, a general anesthesia, used by security, but due to the weakened state of the patients, it was the choice of gases. It was used in combination with Benzodiazepine, a sleep inducer gas. Throughout the procedure oxygen was delivered by an laryngeal mask designed to channel oxygen , or anaesthesia gas directly into the patients lungs. Induction of air, was then delivered by intubation of the airway to each patient. The pathologist, and the hematologist worked in combination of cross type and matching of plasma, using lactated ringers solution. Then later, the solutions would changed to normal saline, designated NS solution during the Urology surgery. Finally, dextrose, or D5W sugar solution is currently being used in combination with an NS solution for post surgical care. D5W or dextrose would help to feed the patient, until he, or she would begin a liquid diet. The NS, or normal saline would be used to piggyback any medication, be it pain control, or antibiotics, after surgery. Multiple lab tests, and scans were continually taken, and read throughout the different procedures. The tests were read in conjunction to make the diagnoses of injuries, and dictated treatment to be used. They were reread often throughout the surgical procedures. They included, but not limited to: CSF (Cerebrospinal Fluids) analysis, CT scans(Computer Tomography) Imaging, MRI scans (Magnetic Resonance Imagining), BET scans(Body Emission Tomographic) Imagining, EEG (Electroencephalography) scan, EKG (Electrokardiography) scans, PO C3 Cogshell provided the Lab result tests which were performed throughout the different surgeries. They were Hematocrit, creatinine, oxygen input analysis, lymprocratic analysis, and variously blood draws, urinalysis testing, Myocardial enzyme balance, and neural calipers testing. Dr. Reid began the first neurological procedure on Lt. Applewood. Lt. Applewood had suffered a cebrebral contusion to her occipital region from a blow to the back of her head, which was brought on by BFT, or Blunt Force Trauma. A Hypocoagulant was injected by hypospray directly into the carotid artery to slow blood circulation to the brain. An incision was made into the occipital region with an exoscapel setting. This made it easier to use when performing a craniotomy. Reid then removed a 2 inch section of the rear skull cap for direct access into the outermost menigeres layer between the duramater, and the arachnoid mater. A laser scalpel was used for further use on the cebrebral contusion, which was then separated from other veins, concurrent with the use of neural brain implants. A sonic mitagator was used for bundling the neuron firing sites on the nerve branches. The purpose was to separate the neurons in the brain at the site of the subdural hemotoma. The hemotoma was then removed by vaccuum suction, and any surrounding venous bleeding was then controlled by placing stent clippings on the venous ends. A brain pacemaker was then introduced to prevent seizures, and possibly a stroke later on. Reid would later make a note during transcription. It may be removed prior to the patient returning to active duty. The skull cap was then replaced after having been preserved in a normal saline, or NS solution. Microsutures were used to seal the skull cap back into place, and the original incision was closed using autosutures, which were similar to a anabolic protoplaser. A cortical stimulator, a device used to resuscitate comatose, or head injuries was then used to promote resuscitation as necessary. EEGs were the continued on a running basis throughout the remaining surgical procedures. Written orders were requested for use of a dermal regenerator during this ICU stay. Dr. Reid then used a dermal generator himself, to promote healing of the surrounding tissue at the surgical opening site. The underlying laceration, and torn epidermis meninges were repaired using microsutures. Reid the closed the surgical opening site with additional microsutures. He then used a dermal regenerator on the surrounding tissue at the site to facilitate the healing process. Since, there were possible indications present to suggest possible hearing loss. Reid recommended Lt. Applewood should have physical and cognitive emotional testing performed by ship's counselor. Should the Lieutenant gain consciousness in ICU the symptoms can last up to 3 weeks. She could experience of feeling in a fog, amnesia, sudden mood swings, and an unstable, unsteady gait. Dr.Reid, next performed the second neurological surgery procedure. Ensign T'Lar suffered a skull fractures caused by a blow to his forehead brought on by Blunt Force Trauma, or BFT. The fracture was a communitied fracture; having caused a depression to the forehead region. The skull had underlying lacerations, a tear into the epidermis meninges that ran through frontal lobe sinuses, and possibly the middle ear structure. The isomolecular scanner revealed a comminuted fracture of the forehead had splintered into several bone fragments. An incision was made into the cranium with a laser scalpel to prevent further bleeding. Bone fragments were removed by vacuum suction, and replaced by bioimplants, rebuilding the frontal cranial bone. Bleeding was stopped by the use of stent clippings placed on the ends of the veins that has been ruptured. A platinum coil was placed into the area of the congratulated blood which helped to dissolve the clots. The loose fragments of the clots,and any remaining bone fragments were removed by a vacuum suction process. Bioimplants were used to rebuild the forehead bone, thus removing the forehead decompression. Again, Reid used Microsutures to close the surgical opening. Followed by the use of a dermal regenerator to the surrounding skin tissue to facilitate the healing process. As for the middle ear, Reid recommended Ensign T'Lar would need to be seen by an ENT specialist, and an audiolgist for the hearing loss. Follow-up psychological care would with the ship's counselor is recommended. Dr. D.A. Knightling performed the next, or third surgery procedure. Dr. Knightling saw there were no significant signs of damage to the heart muscle. The damage was to the aorta of Ensign T'Lar. Once the surgical opening was made Dr. Knightling had the entire surgery team visually see the physiological differences of the Bajorans, which included a heart that is mirrored along a horizontal axis rather than the vertical axis seen in the Terran heart. The surgery team was then encouraged to visibly see the Bajoran aorta also laying along the horizontal axis. Rather than, along a vertical axis found in terrans. Prior to the beginning of the Aorta repair, following medical protocol, Reid issued an order for blood transfusions. PO C3 Glenn Cogshell, and 1st Classman medic Pence Tep cross-typed and matched Ensign T'Lar's blood which turned out to be more human than Bajoran. Therefore, I ordered 2 units of whole blood, and to have a unit of matching Bajoran Blood on standby. It was to be used only in an emergency should Ensign T'Lar's body has a reaction towards human. Dr. Knightling used this 2 to 1 blood ratio a few times during the aortic repair surgery. Dr Knightling saw by visible sight, that Ensign T'Lar's aorta had suffered torn lesions resulting from a blow to the upper left quadrant of the abdomen, brought on by Blunt Force Trauma, or BFT. Dr. Knightling also pointed out the physical symptom of bruising at the site. To facilitate time, during the neurological surgery procedures, Reid removed a healthy specimen of two separate pieces of aortic tissues. The ascending aorta, containing the aorta arch which supplies 3 major arteries. The brachocelphalic artery supplies brain, and head, the left common carotid artery, and the left subclavian artery, which showed no signs of damage, or impairment. The aorta contained the coronary arteries which also branched off the ascending aorta. Here, he found indications of tearing of this 2 inch artery, which was full of tiny lesions, which impeded the flow of blood back to the heart. These had to be replaced or the Ensign would soon go into cardiac arrest. The descending aorta ends in the abdomen, where it branches into 2 common iliac arteries. Having noticed leakage from the branch itself, there were several lesions which slowly bled out into the abdomen. Thereby, significantly weakened the iliac arteries blood flow to lower extremities, which eventually could have resulted in paralysis. If not replaced, the branch would eventually rupture. Therefore, Reid who assisted in the surgery, elected to remove both damaged artery parts and placed healthy pieces from their aortic tissues into a Genotronic Replicator. It is a medical device to "grow" a new replacement organ parts at an accelerated rate. The use of a dermal laser scalpel sliced pieces of tissue off of the aorta. The new aortic tissue parts, of the coronary arteries, and the common iliac artery branches were completed and ready for transplant, when Knightling began the cardiology surgery. He opened the patient's chest cavity with a laser scalpel, and used surgical stent clippings to tie off the coronary arteries ends, and the iliac arteries branch. Then he removed the damaged parts, and a temporary pacemaker was attached to work the blood flow going throughout the body's natural circulatory system. Meanwhile, Reid diverted The blood, through a cooling filtration system to regulate slower blood circulation. The replacement parts were transplanted into the aorta remained attached to the horizontal axis with microsutures. A tear found in the aorta wall also necessitated repairing with microsutures. Meanwhile, a normal saline solution, or NS was run through the aorta to check for any leakage. Where any leaks were found, they were sealed by microsutures. The aorta showed no signs of leakage, so the blood was removed from the cooling filtration system, and rerouted through the new aortic implants. Showing no signs of leakage, Dr.Reid and Dr. Treadway decided to reconstruct the rib fractures, and stabilized the rib bones with bioimplants. Dr. Treadway closed the surgical opening site with Microsutures, used a dermal regenerator on the tissue surrounding the surgery opening site, to facilitate the healing process. ::Part VI:: ::Suddenly, the surgery took an unexpected twist for Lt. Applewood. She went into cardiac arrest. PO 1C Trusk, Dr. Knightling, and Dr. Reid initiated Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, or CPR protocols. Trusk incubated, and bagged the patient. After placing an motivated tracheal tube down Applewood's throat, he inserted it into her lung. He placed an oralpharyngeal mask over her nose and mouth. The he connected a compression bag to the mask, and began to squeeze the bag. This flooded her lungs with oxygen, so the air could oxygenate her body organs. Reid started the compressions to send the air, and Blood throughout her body. Reid would then use an osteogenic stimulator to jump start her heart. Knightling administered cardiac resuscitation drugs to aid the heart in regaining a sinus rhythm. Surgical nurses Bothenet, and Benntiere prepared the hyposprays as indicated by the CPR protocols, and handed them to Dr. Knightling. He then administered them as necessary, or prn, when indicated. Lt. Applewood did suffer cardiac arrest, cessation of heartbeats during the surgical process, and Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation protocol was initiated. Knightling immediately grabbed a hyposprays loaded with 2cc of Imapedrezene, and administered it. Dr. Reid grabbed an osteogenic stimulator, and began compressions of the heart muscle. Meanwhile, Trusk connected an oxygen line from the anesthesia cart to the compression bag. This facilitated administering a higher concentration of oxygen to the lungs when the bag was compressed. Knightling followed by administering 20cc of Hyperzene, a cardiac stimulant, and Reid followed by further compressions of the heart muscle with the osteogenic stimulator. Then Knightling administered 60cc of Imaprovaline, a drug which stimulates cardinal cell regeneration. Again, Reid followed with further compressions by an osteogenic stimulator, and Trusk administered more compressions of he bag. Introducing more highly oxygenated air volume to the lungs. At that point, Knightling consulted Dr. Reid,if he would make the call, because of the amount of damages suffered by Lt. Applewood's injuries. Dr. Reid refused to relent to the time of death, and called for the 2nd line of defense against the cessation of heartbeats. Knightling asked Reid if continuing with the 2nd line of medication was advisable. Knightling reasoned it could also cause further damage resulting in death. Dr. Reid stated that she was dead already, so trying could only help to resuscitate the patient. Dr. Reid, and Knightling readily concurred, so Knightling immediately grabbed a hypospray of Chlormydride, and injected a full dosage of 40cc. Meanwhile, Dr. Reid repeated the compressions with he osteogenic stimulator, and within 30 seconds of the last set of compressions, the patient's heart began to beat on its own. Knightling immediately administered 20cc more of Hyperzine, and the heart beat returned to a normal cardiac rhythm of 60 beats per minute; gradually the heart rate returned to 76 bets per minute, and from that point on maintained a normal sinus rhythm. After the successful resuscitation of Lt. Applewood using CPR Protocols. Reid, and Knightling returned to the business at hand. A Dak'tar, Klingon dagger that caused the damage when stabbed into the spleen of Lt. Applewood. Reid had seen the tell-tale jagged tearing edge from the dagger, often used by a Klingon mercenaries. It was done for sadistic, and often ritual pleasure during torture. The tearing not meant to heal resulted in the damaged spleen, and was the cause of her excessive slow internal bleeding. She was nearly dead when she reached Reid. So, he administered a hypocoagulant to slow the bleeding process. Before the spleen operation began Reid ordered a blood transfusion prior to surgery. Again PO 2C Cogshell, and medic 1st Classman Pence Tep performed another cross-type an match on Lt. Applewood's blood type. It turn out to be blood type "B", or BO positive, and had Cogshell, and Tep prepare 5 units of BO, or "B" positive blood. Two units were to be infused by a plasma inducer, one hour before scheduled surgery, and the remaining 3 units were to be placed on standby; for use only in the event of emergency bleeding during the splenectomy. Following Reid's prior order, Nurse Bothenet had already infused the BO, or "B" positive blood with a plasma inducer. Nurse Benntiere placed the remaining 3 units into the surgical refrigerator for storage. She then ordered PO 2C Cogshell to standby to prepare more BO, or "B" positive blood upon Dr. Reid's orders. Having judged the spleen damage due to dark bruising at the site, and knowing the location of the spleen in the upper left quadrant of the abdomen, Reid made an incision. Using a laser scalpel on the site of the discolored bruise. Reid cut through the epidermis, and dermal layers, exposing the ribs. Using rib spreaders, Reid had Knightling pushed the lower ribs aside, being careful not to dislodge the floating rib. Reid could see a quantity of old blood, and mixed in were blood clots that had undergone the coagulation process. The risk of dislodging a clot was his next concern. If one clot were to break free, a thrombosis could occur, and easily lodge itself in the heart's coronary arteries, causing cessation of the heart muscle, inducing cardiac arrest. By the use of vacuum suction, Reid was able to remove all the clots, all old blood, and plasmatic fluid which had caused the abdominal distention, and bruising. Now, that he was able to see the spleen, he visibly verified what the ultrasound test showed. A rupture in the wall of the spleen, and was approximately 3 cm in length. This would have ruled out a laparoscopic splenectomy, when detected by the laparoscopy instrument. This also verified Reid's call for an "open splenectomy." His next step was to locate the lower mesenteric artery followed by the superior mesenteric artery. Using stent clips, he closed off the superior mesenteric artery, stopping any remaining blood flow to the ruptured spleen. Then he located the inferior mesenteric vein, by following the superior mesenteric artery. Reid used stent clips on the inferior mesenteric artery, and stoped the flow of blood moving away from the spleen. Using the laser scalpel once more, Reid severed both the superior mesenteric artery, and the superior mesenteric vein, separating then from the spleen. Observing for any leakage, he found none. So, now he dissected the ligments holding the spleen in place. Dr. Knightling then removed the spleen from Lt. Aplewood's body. Nurse Bothenet had prepared a place to set the spleen down, and he used it. Grabbing the tissue Mitagator, Knightling located an area that still had healthy issue. He sliced a few strips from the spleen, and had Nurse Bothernet place them in the Genotronic Regenerator. Then Nurse Bothernet packaged up the spleen, labeled it, and sent it to the boys in the lab. This way they could perform different tests on the spleen, and send back any analysis that would be requested during the surgery. While waiting for the spleen to finish the replication process, Knightling noticed 2 foci, called "accessory spleen". He informed Reid of his findings, so Reid allowed him to dissect them both with the laser scalpel. Reid wasn't above giving any surgeon who was that observant to practice removing anything he, or she found, that needed removing. Dr. Knightling did an excellent procedure under Reid's supervision of removing them. Nurse Benntiere prepared the specimens under the watchful eye of Nurse Bothenet. Benntiere then sent both foci to the lab for analysis as well. Eventually, the regenerated spleen was fully intact, and ready for transplant. Dr. Knightling gently removed the new spleen, and placed it where the old one once rested. Now, Reid began to reattach the ligaments with microsutures. Next, he reattached both the Superior Mesenteric Artery, and the Superior Mesenteric Vein with microsutures. After visually checking for any leakage he found no apparent leakage. Then began to reattach the Inferior Mesenteric Artery, and the Inferior Mesenteric Vein. When completed he released the stent clippings. As he released the stent clipping, he could almost hear a faint gurgling as the blood started to flow in and out of the new spleen. Reid discovered a tiny leak in the Inferior Mesenteric Vein, which he immediately closed with microsutures. Thinking it was best for the time being, Reid placed a temporary drain into the splenic area, which would allow any drainage to occur if necessary. Reid had Dr. Knightling close the surgical opening site with Microsutures around the drain. Knightling then covered the drainage tube with a small splenostomy bag. When nearly full the bag would be emptied into a measuring container to aid in recording the amount of fluid drainage. When there would be no more drainage of blood, the tubing, and bag would be removed. The drainage hole would then be sutures shut with Microsutures. A dermal generator would then be used to the tissue around the surrounding site. It would help to aid the facilitation of the healing process. Prior to the briefing of the surgeons, Dr. Treadway noticed the abdominal distention in Ensign T'Lar. She ran multiple urinalysis testing, which indicted visual blood in the urine, and indisputably, through the use of ultrasound of the Kidney, she relayed her findings to Dr. Reid who concurred the need for Nephrological surgery transplant was indicated. The right kidney had been perforated, and was clinically unresponsive to urine output. Treadway had previously performed a biopsy of the ® kidney tissue, and placed the sample into a Genotronic Replicator. Due to the acceleration process, a new right kidney had been generated. ::Finale:: The last surgery of the day was a Nephroectomy, transplant of the right kidney, and Urologigal surgery was also indicated. Utilizing the catheterization procedure was indicated. Dr. Treadway used a sterile catheter, and induced it through the ureathra, and into the the patient's bladder during the procedure. A small incision was made a few inches below the patient's belly button; using an exoscalpel. She began reconstructive Nephrology, and urology. Using a procedure called retropubic suspension surgery which including pulling up the bladder neck, and sewing it into bone, or surrounding tissue with microsutures. Once the patient with the aid of the catheterization, Treadway was able to find a small tear in the ureathra, and successfully repaired it with microsutures. Using stent clippings, she clamped off the renal arteries, and renal veins of the the right kidney. Meanwhile, Dr. Reid had connected the patient to a dialaysis machine, The fluids in the kidney then went through a diffusion process, getting rid of wastes, followed by ultrafiltration, removing unwanted water from the blood, or hemodialysis. All this occurred during the transplant procedure. After Dr Treadwy extracted the damaged kidney, by cutting the two ureters, the renal arteries, and renal veins by laser scalpel, Reid removed the regenerated kidney from the Genotronic Replicator, and implanted the new right kidney into place. Reid held the kidney in place while Dr. Treadway using microsutures, reconnected the two ureters, tubing connecting kidney to the bladder, reconnected the renal arteries, and renal veins to the right kidney, She ordered the dialysis process discontinued. She then noticed a minor leak in one of the ureters tubing. This, she repaired using microsutures, and was successful in sealing the tubing. Ultimately, the incision site was closed using an exoscpel, and a dermal regenator to facilitate in the healing processes. Follow up care would require catheterization, to help aid the healing process. I & O (input/output) charting was ordered, the dialysis process was temporarily ordered until such time urinalysis indicated normal urine output without blood in the urine, as needed, until ordered discontinued. Treadway ordered 600 units of Generecillin piggyback with NS, or normal saline solution, to prevent infection in both transplant receipents. ::Meanwile, the surgery was finished Reid informed both Dr. Knightling, and Dr. Treadway, since the surgery ended at 1800 hours, there still remained another 14 hours until the start of the new day's morning shift. Both Doctors could work it out among themselves. He then called for volunteers, by appointing both Doctors to the following shift. Each Doctor would be on call for 5 hours, and sleep until they needed to do either an afternoon, or midnight shift before going on leave. Dr. Reid elected to take the remaining 2 hours, until the 0800 morning shift which Reid would also take. Treadway would then relieve Reid, at 1600 hours,for the afternoon shift, and Knightling would relieve Treadway at 0000 hours for the night shift. PO 1C Bothenet, would oversee the remaining surgical team, who would finish cleanup after the surgery. She would then make out a duty schedule based on seniority rights. All the shifts would have a skeleton crew comprised from the surgical team, and medical personnel from the Gemini. When each shift was finished that surgical crew would begin leave. The Gemini medical staff would take care of their own schedules. Reid dismissed the three surgeons, and he, himself went into the Doctors lounge, and took a sonic shower. He put on fresh, clean scrubs, and decided while dressing, he would stop off at the Tin Star Lounge. He would stop in for a few minutes, grab a some supper, and tie on a couple of stiff drinks, before heading back to his quarters, and some badly needed sleep. He had to look in on both patients at 0600 hrs. He would check their progress in the ICU, or intensive Care Unit. Check with the nursing staff, and go over their nursing notes containing records of meds given, for pain control and antibiotics also given. Next, he would check the usage of IV infusion pump care, and delivery amounts of NS, or Normal Saline, and D5W, or dextrose usage through the night. Last, he would check on the status of their induced coma states. Based on all this pertaining data, more on vital life signs, recent lab reports pertaining to each transplant, Blood volume levels, chemical balance of other body fluids,and any other pertinent data pertaining to the two patients. Reid would then write out his Doctor orders for the day. All nursing staff, med tech's, Surgeon's, and physicians would see to it that every order of Reid's would be fulfilled. Then, at 0800 hours, Reid was scheduled to work the morning shift. He would oversee the skeleton crews needing any medical treatment, while the rest of the ship had gone on shore leave. During the morning shift all of his surgical team, would come in throughout the shift, and complete their dictation of all procedures used during the duo surgery from yesterday. At 1600 hours, it would all end, and Reid started his leave then. For as long as the USS Gemini under went repairs, Reid would spend his leave with his family. Yet, knew he would also be on standby medical duty, should an emergency occur during his watch. Treadway, and Knightling would also be on call for standby duty, as needed.:: LtCmdr Jerry Reid Medical Officer USS Gemini
  11. (Mitchell’s Quarters - USS Atlantis) ::Mitchell woke up to a pain in his neck. Gingerly, he raised his head and reached up to find the sore spot. He found it on the side of his neck. Groaning he looked around to get his bearings and realized he was on the couch in his quarters.:: oO Ugh, ow! Oo ::He carefully rolled his head, trying to work the crick out his neck. He remembered about making it back to the ship, and stumbling to the couch, then settling in to wait for his stomach to settle for heading for his bed. From the impression on the couch arm, he hadn’t made it off the couch. Sleep had taken him before his stomach settled. And it had left him with this crick in his neck.:: oO Guess last night was worth it. Oo ::He put his feet on the floor, and walked over to the replicator for a glass of water. He waited for it to materialize, took a sip then carried it back to the couch, while trying to work the crick out. He sat the cup on the table and settled back down on the couch.:: oO This is part of why I quit drinking so much. The after effects suck. Oo ::As he sat there, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander out through the stars. He was on what was technically the sixth starship of his career, but only the third named one, since four of the six were the various editions of the USS Discovery. But he had made it to the rank of full Commander. Yet he was at the pentacle of his career, given a few choices he had made along the way. But he had no regrets, at least not about his career. His personal life was a completely different story though.:; oO The career has worked out for the most part, but my personal life is nada. Oo ::He always thrown everything into his career. Always choosing his duty to Starfleet over any sort of personal life. Along the way he’d had some successes, since he’d been in a grand total of four actual relationships over the years. Two of them actually getting close to being engaged, yet none had lasted. The latest still semi-existed as an on/off again thing, one had been erased when she had lost all memory of their relationship, one had been lost and declared MIA, and the other had separated over duty, settled as friends, until her death.:: oO Kelly...Oo ::Cobra had been the first, being his girlfriend and competition during the latter part of their Academy days. But duty had separated them early after the Academy on due to the needs of the service, then brought them back together on the first Discovery. Yet they’d given it another chance, but the same spark just wasn’t there. So they had decided to just stay friends, and had served together off and on until just under two years ago. Then Cobra had bought the farm in an ambush perpetrated by a group of rogue Romulans. She had gone down with most of her squadron and wing with the Melbourne. To this day, he didn’t trust Romulans. :: oO Kaitlyn...Oo ::Another lost soul, she and he had hit it off right away after the ship pulled her out of that shuttle. I think we both helped each other through some things. Some might have said our relationship was doomed to fail, but we made it worked. I wonder if we could have made it work being married. But finding her comer shipmates mattered to her, so I let her go, and she gave her life to try and find them. oO Perin...Oo ::Perin was such a fresh face when we met. Bright, honest, trusting. She looked so much like Kaitlyn it hurt when he first met her, dragging back out all the memories of Kaitlyn. He had been outright mean to her at first, but something about her broke through his walls. Whatever it was, it snared him in the heart and the head. Their relationship had felt like a dream with the way it worked. He’d even finally worked up the nerve to ask her to marry him. But then one more mission called, and that one cost. She’d been critically injured, suffering complete memory loss for the past several years. Even with the best doctors, almost none of the memories had ever returned. The last time he’d seen her, it had been on the surface of Ba’ku where Tyr had gotten her permission to live, hoping the radiation there would help her.:: oO He did that for me. He saw how happy she made me. Happy enough for him to break protocol to help a friend. Oo oO Vicky…Oo ::Victoria Samuelson and him had a tumultuous relationship. They had both served aboard the various Discovery’s for years, and he had tried to ask her several times over the years, without success. But after years of not getting over Perin’s loss, and some loss of hers, somehow something had brought them together and they had given it a shot. Yet duty soon called and drug them apart. Now their relationship consisted of short leaves together when things could be arranged. Yet even while he had been working in the shipyards and not on an active ship, they had only managed it a few times. Now he was halfway across the galaxy.:: oO Guess I’m a black widow of sorts. Or I’m just one of those people who are supposed to be miserable when it comes to any sort of life. Maybe it makes us better at our jobs. Or maybe it just makes us burnouts. Anyway, alcohol doesn’t help. Trying to drown the sorrows doesn’t do any good. Guess I just have to keep on this cycle. Face it and throw myself into work yet again. Oo tbc/tag Commander Rode MItchell Chief Tactical Officer USS Atlantis (OOC: Funny thing is, the concepts of this sim are anchored in real life. For most of it is how I spent Saturday after going out Friday night and drinking a bit more than I should have to impress a girl.)
  12. ((Holodeck 2 - USS Atlantis)) ::It wasn't always easy to know another person, but Ren Rennyn had never been afraid to try.:: ::He'd grown up covered in family and friends, a constant stream of need and personality that sent him sometimes running off to the lonely corner of a field for a minute's peace. In the long term, it left him friendly, and open, and craving connection. It left him a little afraid of loneliness.:: ::Out here on Atlantis, with black space drifting by, he felt stifled. He didn't want to be alone, but he needed to think. After the excitement of time with friends on Uzoka 4, the quiet of his quarters was deafening, pressuring. Even the corner of a field is full of living things. The holodeck at least pretended to have life in it, and he needed something around him, some feeling of being in a living environment, in order to clear his mind and really get this sorted.:: ::Ren was struggling to get a grip on Sovak's motivations. They'd been roommates for four years at the Academy, and they were posted to Atlantis together as fresh new ensigns. Now that goofed up Vulcan had gone and professed his love for the Trill helm officer. And Ren could admit he felt something too. But it was tough to wrap on to it. This was his friend, his best friend, outside of his brothers back home in Arnmere. His brain and his heart weren't catching up to each other, and he couldn't tell which was doing the catching, or which was trying to run.:: ::Ren sat on a dusty red boulder observing the holographic scene below. It was Vulcan, the only part of Vulcan Sovak had called home, high on a cliff of Mount Vishlu in a monastic school no child with Sovak's level of emotion could have enjoyed. The bluff where Ren sat outside the monastery looked down from Vishlu, that layered jag of rock rising up from the landscape like a sheltering behemoth, casting its shadow over the fertile delta below, where some vegetation that would not otherwise have lived in the scorched Vulcan terrain grew lush among irrigated channels. It was a fertile oasis, spread before him like a scene from a story, holographic citizens moving peacefully below in the pageant of daily life.:: ::Up at the monastery, life was dry and red. None of the vegetation, none of the life reached this solitary place above, except in distant, taunting visions from beneath.:: ::The Trill stood upright and filled his lungs with hot, arid atmosphere. He wondered how realistic this simulation could be. Were the little holographic Vulcans who crawled like matawba bugs in that distant down-below vista based on the real citizens of the mountain's shade? Or were they, like the preternaturally perfect Vulcan sky, a conjuration of the programmer's well-ordered vision?:: ::Ren had grown up surrounded by green plants and rich soil; hot days that produced cool breezes too. Snow in its season, ice and bundling, then the inevitably welcome thaw of spring with its deep, earthen fragrance. This place, this barren red desert stretching out to every horizon, couldn't have been any more alien to him.:: ::It couldn't have been easy to make the plants grow there. Ren respected the Vulcans in that. He knew how it felt to be in a relationship with the land, to struggle with it and love it and fight it sometimes. It nourished you and it brought you to tears. The ground here was so different from what he knew. It wasn't easy to imagine how the Vulcans did it. It was all so much like Sovak -- familiar to the Trill in some ways, but, in others, entirely alien.:: ::Sovak had traveled to Trill once, with Ren, on a semester break from the Academy, when they were simply friends. It had been two weeks of fish-out-of-water comedy, Sovak never quite learning how to handle constant attention from Ren's large family. He'd watched the shy Vulcan flinch and wince and try to melt into a puddle rather than face the onslaught of conversation and companionship. But Sovak had blossomed, too, in a way. He'd connected to the planet, to the fertile ground, to the sweet, rich air, in a way Ren had felt connected since birth.:: ::Seeing Vulcan, dry and arid, even in the beautiful delta at the foot of Mount Vishlu, Ren began to understand Sovak's origins. The Vulcan had gone to Trill and found a very different home than he'd ever known. He'd expressed to Ren, in his quiet way, how much he'd loved the Rennyn farm, the ever-present family, the vibrant, fertile life of it all. Ren brushed the desert dust from his jacket. He could see why.:: ::Here, the landscape was all sand, and you had to dig your feet in and really stand. Maybe that's how, in some ancient time, Vulcans learned to find their strength from within. Sovak spent his early years on the safe, solid deck of a starship. Maybe he'd never found his footing here for that reason.:: ::So did Sovak love him as much as he seemed to think? Or was it Trill the Vulcan loved, that sense of place, of family and belonging? That was the doubt nagging at Ren since the fevered moment Sovak proclaimed his feelings, in a room full of flowers and confusion. Was Sovak merely in love with feeling? Ren's life was on a trajectory that pointed away from Trill for now, even if it was meant to lead back there some day. He didn't see how he could be what Sovak needed. That goofy Vulcan was so many wonderful things, and deserved to be with someone as amazing as him. Ren wasn't sure he would be enough. Or was that another excuse to run? His heart and his head competed for position. One was a tortoise, the other a hare. The sun was setting over the back of Mount Vishlu, and Ren hadn't begun to fathom what he wanted to know here.:: ::Sweat formed on his brow, from the heat in the simulated atmosphere, or the heat in his beleaguered brain. His face was grim. He might break a heart that had already been broken on the stern, lonely rocks high on Mount Vishlu, one that had only begun to take root and grow. With the same blow, he might break his own heart too.:: LtJG Rendal Rennyn Helm Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682
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