Posted by Gamemaster Wookius Furrius (Senior Gamemaster) in Graven XII - Medical

Posted by Ensign Shon Baht (Medical Officer) in Graven XII - Medical

Posted by Lieutenant Jasmine Wynter (Chief Medical Officer) in Graven XII - Medical
Posted by… suppressed (8) by the Post Ghost! 👻
SNIP
Jasmine motioned for her colleague to follow her. “Hello,” she extended her hand to Dr. Deen Hone wondering if he was sweating because he was naturally moist or if he had caught something from his lab. “I am Dr. Wynter and this is my colleague Dr. Baht.”

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO
Shon snapped himself out of his stupor, having been looking around at the new world in a bit of a awed daze. Shon started to raise his hand to give the well-recognized Vulcan greeting common in the Alpha Quadrant, then immediately dropped it to his side again as he remembered where he was. Instead, he just smiled bashfully and inclined his head in greeting to the other doctor. This was Ensign Baht’s first first-contact mission, and he was definitely feeling nervous about it.

(Ensign Baht, Medical)

“Hone,” he said in a gravely tone, then cleared his throat. “Forgive me. Allergy season and I left my spray at home.” He shook hands with a care with her. “Doctor Wynter. Doctor Baht.” He made a noticeable effort to get the names pronounced carefully. “Thank you for coming. I look forward to working with you both.” He looked at the two of them. “Evidently you are both from different worlds. Please, tell me about them. Come. Come with me. I have a transport waiting.”

Nodding she followed Hone in the direction he indicated.

The transport was another van like vehicle not unlike a 20th century SUV only with the top again fully transparent. There was a driving seat and two other seats facing each other in the back that would easily fit them comfortably. A driver fitted in what could be a uniform - that identified as he had a cap on and dark glasses with silver rims. He pressed a switch and the transparent cap telescoped back. At the same time the doors slid open and a foot step swung down into place.
- Wookiee

Are we going on safari, Jasmine thought humorously as she stepped into the vehicle. Inside was plush and comfortable as she settled into a seat. “You are right about us not being from the same homeworld. I come from a planet called Mintara Prime. Five hundred years ago the people of my world left Earth and ventured out. We had a plague that killed over fifty percent of our colonists the first year we landed there resulting in some creative ways to keep the colony alive and thriving. It worked because five hundred years later as you can see we are still here,” she smiled. Aside from the Ministry of Harmony Jasmine was just a plain old Earthling. Hone would be far more interested in Baht.

Jasmine looked at her colleague to take his turn to answer the question posed by their host about his species origins.

Wynter CMO

Shon climbed inside after Doctor Wynter and took his seat, crossing one leg over the other and bouncing it a bit, subconsciously. He looked around for a safety strap to attach if possible. Jasmine’s explanation of her homeworld’s origin caught his attention, and he listened closely as well.

After a couple seconds of awkward silence, Shon muttered an “oh” as he realized it was his turn to speak. “Yes, hi! I’m a bolian, from Bolarus IX. It’s a stormy and oceanic world, quite beautiful really. In fact, the Cliffs of Bole are renowned through the Alpha and Beta quadrants as a magnificent tourist destination, if you ever get the chance to go.” Shon paused to mentally kick himself at that and offered an apologetic smile. “I mean, you should try a holodeck simulation-” His eyes widened in horror as he realized his mistake. “I mean, nevermind, I’m sorry.”

(Ensign Baht, Medical)

“It’s not against the rules to show you our homeworlds right,” she looked at Hone. Bolarus IX’s cliffs were breathtaking. One could try to explain it but to take in their majesty you really did need to see it.

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO

Hone settled in across from them. “There is a safety webbing here.”

“Oh..Oh!” Jasmine said with her eyes a bit wider trying to hide her surprise. The vehicle had an off-road but elegant feel to it; however, the mention of safety webbing did not fit with the interior of the vehicle nor their destination to the medical center. “We need safety webbing?” Then in a low tone, she said under her breath to Shon. “What kinda medical center are we going to?” She resisted sharing the joke about black magic frog poultices and leeches. Running her fingers along the edges of the seat, however, she could not find any form of a seatbelt.

” I will demonstrate.” At the edge of the seat was what at first looked to be a part of the lining seam, however, was a bar to take up. He reached over and pulled it. It looked to be a fine web that covered the front torso and hooked to a similar bar on the far side. Whether magnetic or what, the bar found its mate when it came close. The webbing was not tight but forming to the body and was almost not felt.

“Okay we have got to get some of these,” Jasmine wiggled a bit in the seat feeling how much movement she had. “Our belts are super restraining. I mean it’s like being hogtied by a security officer when you are getting hauled in from a bad shore leave but this…this is so flexible.”

Hone raised a brow at that description perhaps wondering how much experience this doctor had with such ‘bad shore leaves’.

“There,” he said after getting webbed in. “Your worlds sound scenic. Especially yours,” he said to Baht. “I think each world is unique and has its own beauty. Just like a body. An amazing amazing machine. The more you look the more wonders is found. But Dr Wynter. How did your fledgling colony overcome the plague? Was it a pathogen natural to the new colony that affected you? Or something carried with you?”
Hone

“We have studied it for hundreds of years but the exact vector was never discovered. ,” she stated in a matter of fact tone. “We had no treatment and still don’t. Like all diseases that had no treatment however, it ran its course in our society before dying out. It did, however, kill an inordinately large percentage of men. Eventually, we discovered the pathogenesis of the virus was a form of Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.”

“The genesis of some pathogens are difficult to sort out. Sometimes I wonder if a trigger may be simply being in a different place that activates what is already within.” Hone leaned in listening to more as the vehicle drove off.

“This confused us because that is a genetic disease and not something you infect someone with. With further study, we found that the virus fed on testosterone explaining why it hit the males of the colony so hard. The mortality rate ended up seventy percent of men and thirty percent of women. This created a unique situation in the colony and formed the basis of our civilization. The colonists did not want to give up so they became creative. Marriages became open in a sense to increase the genetic diversity of the population. People didn’t worry about who a father was but raised the children as if they all were one large family. This is the reason we all take the female’s surname in marriage. It allowed the family to have a sense of identity even though many had different fathers. This worked for all of one generation before the normal aspects of jealousy surfaced. It was soon after that we created the Ministry of Harmony. .” Leaning forward she let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes. “You know the joke I have an app for that. Well, we have an app for marriage. See most people meet and marry in a small radius of where they work or live. The Ministry tried to match people up based on interests from all over the colony world. As the years went on the marriage profile as we call it became extensive. At this time it is a 36,000-page questionnaire. So you filled it out, swiped right and found your match. The test is so exact as to preferences most Mintaran’s never divorce.” Jasmine hoped she didn’t bore Hone with her recanting of Minataran history. “So five minutes later,” she let out a laugh, “we never cured it or found a treatment. It’s crazy how something invisible can change society forever.”

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO

“Were I to have to complete a questionnaire that long I would begin it when I was out of school and end it when I retired. Perhaps nobody divorces because of the pain of revising the answers.” His bushy eyebrows rose at the description of the app and their society. “Situations often demand unique responses. I imagine that over the decades that the natural order took over and your gender ratios evened out?”

“Yes but so many cultural things remained. Take surnames. Our sex ratios did level out but by the time they did it seemed just as weird to us that people take the husband’s last name. It also makes genealogical tracing far easier since you have clear genetic lines based on maternal DNA which we all have due to biology. People tend to think I am some raging feminist in the Federation and part of me debated with Max about taking his name. The crazy part is Max is too traditional and told me I was crazy. So when we meet new people we inevitably get the ‘wow Max you are so liberal and Jasmine you are so feminist’ but ten minutes alone with us and you see that assuming clearly fist the joke about making an ass out and me.”

Hone listened carefully to that discussion. “Practicality is rarely something peoples settle on. Tradition is an emotional thing, an anchor to what is their perceived correct worldview. It is not easy to overcome. Here, or by the sounds of it, out there.”

Hone looked at the Bolian. “Tell me Mr, ah Baht, what is your society like?”
- Hone

Shon nodded along with genuine interest as Wynter explained her culture. He could not help but think that it sounded like the pathogen created a fascinating condition, at least from a purely academic standpoint. But the bolian part of Shon also felt for those affected by such a disruptive disease.

“Oh,” Shon said with a small smile at Hone’s question, “Bolian society isn’t nearly so interesting. We’re known for our good-natured dispositions, I suppose. Our culture encourages each person to be outspoken about their wants and needs. And respecting the individual rights of all people is paramount. Also we’re heavily involved in trade and currency exchange. But all that’s nothing too special, really.”

“Outspoken but seeing to individual rights. I would like to see such discussions,” Hone said, mopping at a brow. He squinted and peered out. It looked like they were turning off the main road and heading toward a large multi-storied complex. “This is our Ka-Verda Hospital. It specializes in disease controls.”

The complex was massive compared to what Jasmine thought it would be yet in some way smaller too. She couldn’t place it but something in her gut said ‘huh this seems odd’. It was one of those scooby doo moments she called it where she couldn’t put her finger on it but yet something wanted her to scream ‘jinky’.

“But,” Shon started as a way to transition the attention away from himself, still feeling a bit awkward, “we’re here to learn about your culture as well! And help in whatever way we can, of course. Please, tell us more about your world!”

(Ensign Baht, Medical)

Seeing that it appeared that they had a few minutes yet, Hone considered his answer. “We have known about and been in contact with several species over the years. That is a lot of years. Some races have come and gone, replaced by others. We have tried to isolate the populus from other species as much as possible because we simply don’t have the medical skills to deal with alien pathogens. Some yes. Some were .. came upon us due to exposure in the past and we take care to keep a certain minimalist exposure. If something comes up then we can control it better.”

“But you ask about our world. A big question. We have been united for many thousands of years and have three primary social groups that are more divided on urban and rural lines. As a people we do not have many children and so our population is either stable or very slow growing so our society in general is stable. We are a competitive people, though have channeled that into particular streams. I like to think we are a social people who enjoy company and take pride in what we do. But we as well have things that perplex us, and one of those things I wish to show you when we get to Ka-Verda.”
- Hone

The longer Jasmine sat quietly and listening the more she felt like Fred, Vilma, Shaggy, and Daphne were filling the car. It was little things Hone said that made her mind wander and start snapping together a weird mental puzzle. The name was the first: Ka Verde. Verde was most known for being associated with the color green. It invoked the sense of calm and peace yet it had another sinister connotation. Figuratively verde in some other languages translated to inexperienced, naïve, risqué, naughty, dirty, and course. In medicine, you looked for patterns and if you had to pick a side on Verde it associated with more negative language than positive ones. The other part was Ka. In Egyptian, Ka meant one but it also translated to serve or help. If you played with the name long enough it because something that made her mentally squirm. To help the dirty, to serve the naïve: all of this felt icky to her for some reason especially when paired with Hone’s dialogue of social groups. Historically in any society breaking into social groups only worked out for one group.

“Dr. Hone,” Jasmine put on a soft smile, “why did you call it Ka Verde? Any reason? I am only asking for a cultural basis. We tend to name our buildings with more boring titles like the Ministry of Harmony. Ka Verde sounds so beautiful, like a retreat?” She hoped she played up the naive, innocence enough in her question. The last thing she needed was to drum up a call from the old man about diplomacy but something just didn’t feel right.

Jasmine Wynter CMO

“Ka Verde. That name goes very far back in our history. Even we who have written records of our history dating ten millennia have problems with exaggeration and things running to mythical proportions. Ka Verde was a very knowledgeable physician of old. We say the father of modern medicine. I believe that she was advanced for her time in the ways of physiology and her name was well known for a long time and has a place in our historical records. It was a dark time in history when small warlords ruled the territory. Ka Verde was a consort to one particularly ferocious one. In reviewing some of the Earth history records we were presented he would be closest to one Genghis Khan. Historically she was one who turned his view around to unity over conquering and did that through healing both friend and foe. We like to think that her spirit inhabits the hospital.”

He entered with them and they traveled down hushed corridors that were similar to any medical facility across the galaxy, albeit with instruments and props that were less advanced. They entered an elevator and Hone touched the panel to take them to the basement. “I want to show you our mystery.” The basement was not as well lit and was even quieter; their footfalls echoed and there were fewer doors. Through a grey paneled door they went and in it the chamber was cold, the floors and walls of stone. Flat medical beds stretched out with easily a score of bodies covered in pale blue blankets.
- Wookiee

Ensign Baht subconsciously wrapped his arms around himself in a half-hug when they entered the last room. Shon had never liked morgues. He much preferred working with people when they were still alive.

All their earlier talk of pathogens made Shon wonder briefly if they should be wearing protective clothing. But no, even if their technology was not advanced, surely they knew the basics of contamination control. The bolian glanced around the room as he waited for Dr. Hone to explain, looking for any kind of viewscreens or other display devices that might provide some hints as to what, if anything, these people were being studied for.

(Ensign Baht, Medical)

The chill in the room was palpable causing gooseflesh to dimple the skin on her arms. She was no scientist but basic earth chemistry meant that ten feet underground meant the room was probably at a standard fifty degrees. This made it a breeding ground for any pathogen since it was not warm enough to denature the protein coats surrounding them. Still, if you did not have a way to keep, store, and maintain a sample, using the host was one way used throughout history to slow the degradation process. She also took in the empty cavernous feel of the room and the lack of adornments. It would be easy to sanitize such a room which could be another reason this room was where it was.

As they moved in a bit farther they could hear a very slight humming sound coming from all around them. “We have a localized field that inhibits decay,” Hone said as he moved to a bed. At the left side hanging on the wall was a small ‘chart’, about half the size of a regular clip board type. As they drew closer they saw that it was electronic. “We have three moons,” Hone said. “On the full moon of each we get one more. And each one is different depending on the moon.” He turned to them looking sad and worn. “One looks like they’ve been torn apart from inside. Another like they have been burned with acid. And the third has no indication at all. Each one perishing in their home in their bed. Pathogen affecting someone? There should be some indication. Is one slaying the other then falling dead at the third moon? Is something making a pattern killer?” He sighed. “The thing is. We are all as a people in our beds at night. Nothing moves.”
- Hone

Hone was very cryptic in his speech Jasmine was finding out. Things stuck out in her mind as prose instead of sentences like he was weaving a story instead of imparting information. As Hone described the three different patients with the three different symptoms, Jasmine decided to treat the situation as a triage.

All thoughts disappeared about the name of the hospital and the design of the room as Jasmine instantly switched into physician mode. Listening to Hone’s rather poetic description, Jasmine focused on the first patient’s symptoms that seemed to make sense. “May I,” she asked rhetorically moving towards the clipboard. She hoped the containment field was strong enough to hold whatever pathogens were drifting in the air but if it wasn’t’ it was too late now. Looking at the chart her mind began to tick off all the boxes in the differential diagnosis. For the contagion to be transmissible across a wide breadth of society it had to be viral, bacterial, prion, or genetically related. “Are any of the patients demonstrating this burn like condition related? I only ask because if it is autosomal that will help us rule out some conditions.”

Looking at the patient with the burn like condition she glanced at Shon before saying, “Staphylococcus or herpes?” She would take this patient. Maybe Shon would be able to figure out the other one and they could double team the situation solving it faster.

Jasmine wished she had brought her tricorder. She would have to ask Cochrane about bringing it down as soon as she could. If she had it, it would make the diagnosis job far simpler. Right now it was like leeches and chants trying to figure out what was wrong with the patient just by looking at the lesions. “If we are looking at a viral condition it could be Stevens-Johnson disease, Pemphigoid or Erythema multiforme. If it is bacterial we could be looking at Necrotizing fasciitis. It could be an autoimmune disease like Subacute cutaneous lupus or purpura fulminant or a reaction to medication causing system-wide toxicity like Lyell’s syndrome.”

Moving as close as she could to the bed, Jasmine began to ask more pointed questions. “Were you giving them any medicine? “

“None.” Hone looked squat and smaller in this muted light, and, perhaps because of the light, more ominous with his square bald head hunched in his clothes. “None were being treated for anything serious. Most not at all and none by my department.”

“Do you have any kids with symptoms like this,” she asked Hone. “If so it could be Staphylococcal scalded skin syndrome,” in a questioning tone. Directing her attention to Hone she explained. “Triple S is an illness that presents as blistering skin that resembles tissue that has been burned or scalded. It is caused by a toxigenic strain of the bacteria Staphylococcus aureus. Staph A is bad enough,” she talked while still reading, “but the release of the epidermolytic toxins A and B make it a nightmare.”

“No children, thankfully,” he replied.

Turning to face Hone she let out a deep breath. “Whatever the illness is that is causing the lesions that resemble burn lesions, these guys need to be in a burn unit to prevent infections. If we may can Shon and I get some masks and gloves? That way we can start running samples to figure the first part of the mystery.”

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO

“These occurred over the course of a night. They went to their beds well and woke like this.” He shifted. “None of this is natural.”

Shon wandered toward one of the patients in group C. Perhaps inspecting one of the people “torn apart from the inside” seemed like the obvious first step, but even people that died for “apparently” no reason still died for some reason. Their heart stopped, they stopped breathing, they went brain-dead. Even if the cause of the death was unknown, surely their morticians had been able to determine what had ultimately resulted in the cessation of blood pumping through the veins. As he approached the group C patient, he inspected any coroner’s information that might be attached to the body or its bed.

Although Shon appreciated Dr. Wynter’s practiced eye for diagnoses, Shon felt more like he was listening to a fairy tale or a riddle to be solved than a condition to be identified when he heard Hone’s explanation. Moons often had powerful effects on the circumstances of the planets they orbited, but for this culture’s medical community to identify and link their full moons to such a wide scope of lethal medical complications was bizarre to say the least.

Most interesting to Ensign Baht was Hone’s insinuation that the current working theory was that the deaths were forensic in nature. If this were indeed a criminal investigation, security should be called in to assist. But Shon found that explanation unlikely. Perhaps it was just a bit too supernatural to jump straight to comparing the situation to the fabled werewolves of Earth that he had heard about during his time at the academy.

“Dr. Hone, you said that you people are all in their beds at night and nothing moves…? Can you explain that more? Do you mean literally your species is entirely incapacitated during the night?” Shon wished he remembered what the moons had looked like when he had glimpsed them from the viewports of the Manhattan. He wanted to know when the next full moon was, but he was almost afraid to ask.

(Ensign Baht, Medcial)

“These ..” he said, gesturing to them all, “.. were all anomalies.” He moved closer to the wall to face them both putting his face into shadow so only his voice was really seen. “We are two spirited. During the daytime in the sun our bodies are, well, like yours. At night when we rest our spirits are freed and they do what they will. We rise when they return. These we called Blanks. They had no spirits which is extremely rare.”
- Hone

“Like an out of body experience,” Jasmine tried to sound serious even though her mind was spinning. Her lips opened slightly trying to find words other than psychiatry table for three. Tilting her head slightly towards Shon she spoke barely above a whisper, “Baht…I got nothing.” Jasmine not having an opinion on a medical condition was like a blizzard without snow. It just didn’t happen yet here she was dumbfounded. She just needed a moment to wrap her head around everything.

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO