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Ensign Sovak - Reprogramming


Blueheart
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((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

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