Posted by Lieutenant Commander T’Aria (XO / Navigation Officer) in Sickbay – Is it Hot in Here? [TAG: Captain; CMO]

Posted by Ensign Kastarak (Doctor) in Sickbay – Is it Hot in Here? [TAG: Captain; CMO]

Posted by Lieutenant Commander T’Aria (XO / Navigation Officer) in Sickbay – Is it Hot in Here? [TAG: Captain; CMO]
Posted by… suppressed (7) by the Post Ghost! 👻
(Snip!)

Kastarak listened carefully to every word coming from T’Aria. Had he functioned neuropsychologically and executively better at this point, he might have noticed the conflict of frustration and logic in T’Aria, though now Kastarak only noticed some neuropsychological dysfunction. It appeared to him thus that there were similar experiences between them as how the viral infection behaved.

“As you said, co–” (he was about to say “commander”), “–lleague, we have determined that the virus behaves like an influenza-like virus. We have determined how it binds itself to Vulcan cells and infects them. While we could easily use this information and device an antiviral treatment for you and me, or a vaccination for the other Vulcans on board, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” T’Aria muttered. Those words were her T’Kuht – her ‘north star’ – and served as a stark reminder of their commitment to logic. They centred her. When those words touched Kastarak’s lips, she expected to find some solace within them, but she sensed only a tightness swelling in her chest. Naturally, dismissed it as another symptom of their flu.

Kastarak paused.

“We must consider the safety of our non-Vulcan crewmembers. They outnumber us by far. Let us begin simulating the virus’s behaviour on cells from other species, beginnign with the largest one onboard, Humans, and then in order of magnitude. It should not take too long, provided we are able to function properly.”

“Of course…” T’Aria winced and seized the ledge, squeezing until her knuckles turned a sallow green. The dizziness came without warning. T’Aria urged the world into stillness, her breath trembling, but it resisted her commands. Focus. She screwed her eyes shut and concentrated on her thumping heart, slowing its rhythm until the dizziness subsided. Her body groaned in protest – self-preservation threatening her already dwindling energy reserved – but T’Aria turned to Kastarak and said: “I’ll begin simulations.”

Kastarak coughed. It was painful, and his mucus had a deep green hue to it. Could it be blood? Had he coughed that hard?

T’Aria caught the faint green hue in Kastarak’s mucus. Blood? Dead white blood cells washed out with the infection? There were deceivingly infinite possibilities. “Is your nose unusually dry?” She asked upon stepping closer to offer a swab to examine the substance.

“Yes, yours as well?” said Kastarak, as he swabbed his nose. Why did T’Aria want him to swab his nose? It’s dry, what was she expecting to find…?

Apparently, because of the swabbing of his unusually dry nose, now his nose was bleeding.

Just what he needed.

“No,” T’Aria reached for a sterile cloth and exchanged it for his swab, which she ran through the adjacent computer. Then, she sanitised her hands and approached the cabinet to retrieve a small device that she would later supply with synthesized saline. Saltwater. “This should reintroduce moisture into your nasal membrane,” she inspected the device before handing it to him, “and stop the bleeding.”

She expected the computer would conclude little about Kastarak’s sample beyond the presence of blood and virus, but it was a non-invasive way to assess the strength of his immune response. She hoped her concern was not so evident to Kastarak as her. There were many nights of meditation ahead of her, T’Aria suspected.

“I have not received any reply from either the Chief Medical Officer or from the Captain. Surely the imposition of quarantine on this office cannot block out communications?”

– Dr/Ens Kastarak

“No—” her words were instantly cut off by a whistling comm panel.

Chris was on the bridge watching a solar nebula when he got the call. “Absolutely stunning!” Pressingthe com [O] Chris here. I’m fine Doctor Do you need me down there to assist? [O]

Captain Chris Taggart CO

Kastarak replied, [o] Thank you, captain. We will keep you advised of any developments, or if should we require extra staff or resources to aid us.[/o]

– Dr Kastarak

While Kastarak conferred with Taggart, T’Aria extrapolated a breakdown of the species aboard Chernov. She selected the most populous – humans – and ran simulations in decreasing order. Humans: negative. She continued down the list. Andorians: negative. Tellarites: negative. Caitians: negative. Eventually, the computer exhausted the manifest at the foot of their Orion crewmembers. And they, like those before, yielded a promising “negative” followed by a percentage so small that T’Aria thought it almost negligible.

“Aside from Vulcans,” T’Aria wandered over and extended a data-loaded PaDD to Kastarak, “there are no other species aboard Chernov who face an imminent threat from this virus. The data, of course, does not account for mutations; nevertheless, I suspect our isolation and the recency of our discovery have limited the possibility considerably. Have you checked your temperature recently?”

— Dr. T’Aria

“No… But I feel hotter. Are you?” Why did T’Aria show concern for him by asking that? The main point was that most of the crew would be immune. Only the handful of Vulcans onboard would be at risk, and with some probability of safety, the risk for other Vulcans would be low. This flu had a fast incubation period, it appeared, and no other information of any sickly Vulcan colleagues. Perhaps this was it.

“Warmer…” T’Aria agreed, but she could not assess whether fatigue weakened her resistance to the fever’s heat or their fevers overwhelmed their internal cooling. “We’ve narrowed the threat to Vulcans,” she added in a gesture to the tricorder neglected to a nearby chair, “I suggest we now focus on mending ourselves. We will be of little help if we are fully incapacitated.”

“That is, indeed, prudent,” replied Kastarak, somewhat labouredly. He then coughed, no mucus this time, but it followed pain in his chest, and a squeaky noise from his airways. He grimaced, which he then felt embarrassed for having done, as grimaced was indicative of an emotional response to the pain (“not welcome”), and then he became upset that he had been embarrassed, which too was an emotion.... And then.... He stopped himself. This would become a vicious circle of emotion. He was already emotionally dysregulated, and was in full agreement with T’Aria’s assessment of the situation.

The question was how had T’Aria caught it? How had it got onboard? Why was she affected, but not Symar? He had been down on the planet too. He decided not to ask this question. Somehow, he sensed something about T’Aria and Symar, something that she was not telling. But what this telepathic transference? Was it counter-transference? Was it that Kastarak perhaps had some underlying emotion about his manager? Symar had not been present in Sickbay for a while, was Kastarak really just annoyed by that, and that he projected those emotions on T’Aria – or did T’Aria somehow have feelings that somehow he sensed?

There were too many emotions right now. Kastarak tried putting them aside.

“My abilities to suppress emotional experience seem to be going away. I am really tired. How is your emotional control?”

– Ens/Dr Kastarak

As her body weakened, she felt the tug of her emotions intensify, chipping away at her resolve, and it deeply disturbed her. T’Aria already lacked the emotional control of her Vulcan relative. Though she toiled with meditation and mental discipline, neither was enough.

“Rovalat,” she recalled the eerie calm Prisu adopted as she eased onto the cushion near enough for T’Aria to attend her lecture but never relish her warmth. “Breathe with me,” her grandmother would command, “we will soothe your mind together.” T’Aria narrowly resisted the instinct to hover her palms over where Prisu’s would rest, patiently awaiting her surrender. There had been countless incidents, she recalled, where she dashed from the learning centre to their rural family home in tear-ridden frustration. Prisu never once asked why, nor offered her embrace, but somehow T’Aria sensed a trace of compassion beneath her apathy. That sensation may have been little more than childish hope, but it encouraged her to give in and seek her grandmother’s support, even when her ‘gut’ insisted she was sacrificing more than her emotion but a piece of herself. Prisu was not there to redirect her – she hadn’t been for sixteen years.

T’Aria hadn’t appreciated Prisu’s lectures and intense “exercises” until control slipped through her fingers. Her tools failed. Her mask threatened to dissolve before Kastarak. And right now, despite the apparent calm in her trained expression, she never felt so vulnerable.

(OOC: _Aww… )

“I…” T’Aria lingered on the edge of a lie but resisted, “I find it increasingly difficult to regulate my emotions.” There was more to say where their emotions were concerned, but she did not see the point in wasting time on what was already turbulent territory for Vulcans. “If you need to rest, rest.” He seemed to be losing energy quicker than she was and, given their condition, that served to motivate and concern her. “We must conserve our energy, so it seems logical that we take turns synthesising a treatment. What do you think?”

— T’Aria

Again, Kastarak was in agreement. He was embarrassed – and fully consciously aware of that emotion – that he was quite incapacitated already and of little use.

“I don’t know where to even begin. I seem unable to use my cognitive function well at this point. Do you know how to start? If so, might I be able to rest, perhaps sleep, for a while?”

“We are dealing with a virus whose behaviour mimics many known flus,” T’Aria assured, “I expect we can inhibit the virus’ spread by blocking the neuraminidase protein that enables the virion to detach from its host cell.” It was an old Earth method that changed the lock on the virion’s key. She understood the inherent risks in enlisting a primitive agent against a novel threat, but she chose to judge its worthy by efficacy, not perceived antiquity.

The lock-and-key mechanism was the rational choice.

“We…” T’Aria wavered, narrowly aware she processed her thoughts aloud, appearing to have a one-sided conversation with herself. How much had Kastarak heard? Even worse, what had she divulged? T’Aria could not recall what she had said, only that she had said something. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat to distract from her flushed cheeks, “yes… rest. I will monitor your condition.”

Why was he sicker than T’Aria? Was the infection so speedy that it was already begnning to recover in T’Aria’s body? Had she stronger immune system? Had she perhaps been closer to Romulans somehow, intimate, in any way, at some point, that made her pick up some antibodies? That seemed unlikely. She had been on this ship for a year, but could they linger longer…?

He lied down on the floor.

T’Aria moved to the computer terminal and pulled up files referencing a neuraminidase block.

“Have you ever met a Romulan? Touched one?” he asked, as he put his head on a makeshift pillow on the floor, that he had made from the top shirt of his uniform. As he lay there, with his undershirt, he wondered if he needed a blanket, and how he would go about to get one, but was satisfied that he would not need one with his fever being as high as it was. He was comfortable enough.

– Dr Kastarak

Excuse me? Her mind urged her to retort, but she caught and contained its ill-founded offence before it reached her lips. What prompted such a question? T’Aria peered over the terminal with furrowed eyebrows, concern-laced confusion dancing in her eyes. Was he referencing her relationship with Symar? No, there was no way he could know unless he withheld it from her out of respect for his superior. Illogical.

T’Aria staggered – was her own omission illogical?

Halting, she distanced herself from the question and focused on Kastarak. She doubted he would ask about her contact unless it had scientific merit. Perhaps this was his action to trace the virus to its origin on Chernov? If she was indeed Patient 0, then it was natural to speculate that she came into contact with a known vector: Romulans.

“I have,” T’Aria admitted with great conflict evident in her tone, “but that event was unrelated to the away mission. Why do you ask?”

— T’Aria

Kastarak raised an eye-brow, as he lifted his head from his make-shift pillow to get a better look at T’Aria’s demeanour. “When?”

And then, he felt emotions of anger and hatred come over him. He hated Romulans. They had travelled in time to destroy his home planet. They had killed his mother and father and all his siblings and friends. His heritage.

“And why?” he asked, a bit more loudly than the previous question.

“If you have been in close proximity of a Romulan, it is possible that you have received some form of antibodies, perhaps through mucus, spit or other accidental contamination of your body from Romulan cells. If it is recent, it would explain why such a small antibody had not yet been broken down, and help alleviate the symptoms of your infection. You appear to have a better hold of yourself than I have. I am quite emotional now.” Kastarak spoke quickly, and he noticed his heart beat was getting faster. He hoped he could mask his emotions somewhat still, but he was starting to give up.

It’s actually kind of cathartic to feel things vividly and express feelings, to remain within them.

He put his head down on the pillow. He tried to calm down. He wanted to control his breathing, to make it slower, and thereby slow the heart. Then he would be able to calm his emotions down a bit.

But every time he tried to focus on his breathing, make it go slower, he activated his cough reflex, and that brought up his heart beat even more.

Why had T’Aria been with Romulans? It was not all that long ago that they had infiltrated Vulcan High Command. Surely she wasn’t Romulan herself, an infiltrator? No, there were no signs of that. Logic, Kastarak. Follow the logic. He heard his father’s voice in his head, a memory from when he was a child, and father tried to guide his emotions.

T’Aria was no longer a practising physician. As such, a Romulan could not be a patient. Her encounter with the away team was unrelated to her encounter, her touching a Romulan, so it must be some other event.

Kastarak’s mind returned to the word touched. She had touched a Romulan. Is that not very intimate, sexual even? Kastarak felt rage growing again.

No, no, follow the logic. He sought the image of his father, the sound of his voice. It was soothing. As was Mother’s.

Do they have peace now?

He missed them. He missed them terribly. They – who had brought him to life, persevered when his emotions as a child were strong, when he had his meltdowns and threw toys and plates and cutlery all around him, helped him regain logic, meditate, sooth him with tea and meditations when he was sleepless, who had taught him how to read, how to cook, how to take care of plants, who had shaped him, made him him, given him their all – were gone. Dead. Never to be found again. Never for them to know that he cared so much for them, that he wished for them to be part of his life again, that he wanted to share in their lives, and have them share in his.

Suddenly, his eyes were watery, and drops of water from his eyes travelled down his face. Was he crying? Was it a reaction from his infection?

_ Nenlohk dwon zeesh_, he whispered, as he saw the image of his father. _ Nenlohk dwon zeesh_, he whispered again, to his mother.

– Ensign Kastarak (physician)