Posted by Ensign Mike Jones (Medical Officer) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Price of Existence

Posted by Kvasir (Story Teller) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Price of Existence

Posted by Lieutenant Issac Forgrave (Chief of Security) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: Triage Command (TAG Jones, Fayth)
Posted by… suppressed (9) by the Post Ghost! 👻

—[SNIP]—

Sharah couldn’t do anything, Semenza said she had to ‘rest’ but that didn’t mean she couldn’t read. And the readings above Hab’rabi’s bio bed were bad. The man had damaged brain tissue that needed surgery to fix. “Stasis?” she said very quietly. “He needs surgery, look at the results of the brain scan. There is damaged tissue there. We have the means and technology to help him. We took oaths. I don’t want him running around the ship, but security can lock him up later. They are outside his door right now. And based on the amount of bio-electric static in his brain and the way those motes constantly move about him, he has answers we need to help our crew.” Those motes held souls, Sharah knew that, her experience assured her of that. Were all souls loving and benign? No, but they had been life once. And Hab’rabi had to know more about them and what was going on. “Stasis might be a viable answer after if he is really that dangerous, but we can’t leave him injured and suffering like that.” Sharah was a bleeding heart doctor, that was for sure.

Fayth, Med

Mike looked at the readouts from Hab’rabi and nodded to Fayth with a calm face. Then replying he said,” Yes we did take an oath. But the data here would seem to indicate the following. A. He was the origin of something which attacked our crew members. B. The state he is in at present is pretty much the same as when he was brought aboard. And who knows how long he has been this way? And as for the motes. We know that they are parasites at best. And while they may be intelligent life forms. Our main job is to protect our crew. Let us not forget. The Bacterium yersinia pestis which started the bubonic plague was only looking for a nice room and a warm bed. “Mike shrugged then and said, “Anyway it’s not for me to decide what to do with him. The Chief just asked for an opinion, so I gave him mine. He’s lucky the XO isn’t getting his way!”

Ensign Mike Jones M.D.

Semenza had been listening to both doctors, and now he shook his head. “Our oath as doctors is the most important oath we make. Medicine doesn’t pick sides. Whatever he is or has done, he deserves treatment, not stasis. We aren’t even sure the motes are his fault, all we know is he seems to be the origin of them.” Checking the readings one more time, he added, “Time isn’t on our side right now. Stasis is a viable option after we’ve at least tried to save him. As for the motes, from Doctor Fayth’s description, I don’t agree with ‘parasite’ as a descriptor… They can be harmful, of course. But do they have to be? Could they be reasoned with? All intelligent life forms deserve the chance for us to try and reason with them.”

~ Lt Semenza, CMO

Fayth listened. Sharah knew the motes were intelligent, that they were individuals, or they had been. That was the thing with individuals though, they could be good or bad. They had no way of knowing which was which, so they had no right to let them die, but that didn’t mean they had to let them run about the ship freely. She couldn’t disagree with Jones about protecting the ship, and Cmdr Kohr’s anger had bee enough to physically be felt…”Yes we need to protect the ship, but it’s not our place to play God and decide who lives or who dies. And he might be the source of these motes, but I would ask you both to notice, that the worse he gets the more that come out of his head. Maybe he has a way of naturally containing them. For the safety of the ship we have to do something so we don’t let these things loose. So far, force fields and bulkheads aren’t stopping them.” Fayth paused to consider, “They might be dangerous to us, but that doesn’t mean they are to him,” she said pointing at Hab’rabi. “But for his species it might beneficial or even a necessary symbiotic relationship. What is beneficial to one species is not always safe for another. So if he is the source, if he controls them, we have to do something.”

“Dr. Semenza should we prep for surgery?”

Fayth, med

Semenza glanced again at Hab’rabi. “If we get him better, he may be aware to get the motes to stop doing whatever it is they’re doing without hurting them.” He knew the ship had to be protected, but he really thought this was the way to do it. What if the motes went on a rampage if Hab’rabi died? He nodded to Fayth and Jones. “Prep him.”

~ Lt Semenza, CMO

While not normally a difficult procedure, Lord Hab’rabi’s neural clusters were more densely-packed than most species and required greater care to repair. Whether by sheer luck or some unspoken understanding, the five motes drifting lazily around their master’s head did not interfere with the surgery. In many cases they provided a kind of boon by shedding their eldritch light in some of the harder angles a time or two. The team learned a great deal about the valhrni cerebral anatomy, though the interworking of several nerve bundles and nodes defied conventional understanding—parts of Hab’rabi’s mind seemed almost too perfect in structure, as if evolution had been nudged in a given direction by some unforeseen force.

The greatest understanding came in discovering why Ensign Sacco’s phaser had such a destructive effect on Lord Hab’rabi’s brain: while his musculoskeletal system seemed very hearty and resistant to impact and damage, the ability to disperse energy seemed diminished nearest his crown. This was congruent with the crew’s observation of the motes moving in and out of his skull through that area; Hab’rabi’s body—and potentially all other hab—had adapted to this particular type of symbiotic relationship with the remnants. This fact, however, nudged the speculation of Ensign Sacco’s motives from the realm of luck and firmly into that of intent.

Sacco had known exactly where to fire, but how? And why?
—Jas—

Mike was quite simply guessing when it came to simply prepping Hab’rabi. Be nice to the motes yet prep Hab’rabi for brain surgery? Mike sanitized everything as best he could and arranged any and all instruments, he thought that Doctor Semenza might need. Mike himself had not even thought of operating on anyone yet. All Mike could think of to prep Hab’rabi any further was to administer as low a dose of anesthetic as he thought was possible to be effective and then to notify a nurse to let Semenza know that his patient was ready.

Ensign Mike Jones MD

=/\=Rende to Attention all Senior staff. A recording of a communique with the alien colony ship has been recorded and sent to each of you for immediate viewing. Rende Out.=/\=

● Alien Ship Conversation

Rende, CO

Semenza had Jones assist with the surgery. Emergency or no, better not to miss an opportunity to learn. The surgery was not overly difficult, though the strange biology of Hab’rabi was no help. The fact that the motes seemed to be trying to help, shedding light on the angles with the worst lighting, Semenza felt proved his point. He’d have some interesting notes to write later on. The cause for the extensive phaser damage was clear, but the why and the how on Sacco’s part? Those were questions for somebody else to answer, Semenza’s report would provide all the necessary information. Semenza’s job was trying to help everyone involved live to tell about it.

~Lt Semenza, CMO

For his part Mike was more than happy to assist. He was not even sure what species Hab’rabi was let alone how his mind operated. And after all it was this sort of thing, he had joined Star Fleet for. To learn alien physiology and add it to his knowledge base was not something that could be done in other places like it could be in the fleet. Even with the opportunity to learn Mike was concerned with the Motes. They were starting to show a distinct difference. Some seeming to want to help while others seemed to have a completely different agenda.

Ensign Mike Jones. MD

Forgrave entered the sickbay; immediately looking around to see what he could see, eyes landing on Hab’rabi - who was not in a state to answer questions at the moment. For that matter, neither did anyone out of the knot of people surrounding the occupied bed. He didn’t want to wait, but Issac could be patient; Hab’rabi wasn’t going anywhere; so long as he could tell. And time would give him room to think over the conversation the captain had with the alien ship - he had skimmed the video as he headed to the sickbay, and some points had stuck out in his mind.

In particular, assuming that the xenos AI wasn’t lying… ‘Hab’ appeared to be a title, not just a name. A title that was associated with control of the… Remnants, they had been called. But it seemed that Hab’rabi… (or was that just Rabi?) was not the only one who could potentially control, or maybe ‘direct’ was a better word - the remnants. But what was a ‘Yur’? It had sounded more like a thing than a title, but it was all conjecture in the end. Issac shook his head at nothing, and leaned his back against the wall. Damned other shoe will drop more ‘n soon enough, I reckon.

-Forgrave, CoS

Hab’rabi’s vital signs climbed slowly but steadily once the surgery was complete and cleaned up. The motes bobbed and danced around his brow much as they had always done, wayward pinpricks of light watching over their slumbering lord. While his eyes did not move behind his lids as other humanoids did when they slept, his delta wave activity spiked and several regions of his brain became more active than before. The computer chirped as it noted the rise in electrostatic activity, but did not sound any alerts; it seemed to remain contained in the deepest parts of Hab’rabi’s mind.

A spike in alpha waves and the subtle shift in his breathing pattern announced the alien’s return to consciousness, and his eyes opened slowly. Hab’rabi surveyed the room without moving his head, then stared patiently at the ceiling. Taking a deep, slow breath the lord’s pupils dilated and the motes dipped lower and vanished soundlessly beneath his skin. Hab’rabi’s breath hushed between pursed lips, and his neural activity surged briefly. Another breath left him, this time more a resigned sigh.

“I see,” he murmured thoughtfully, though somehow not addressing anyone present. “Very well.”

Hab’rabi’s eyes moved to Semenza, then to Jones. His words were measured, cool, and exact. “You have my gratitude, and the gratitude of my race, for preserving my life.”

“Am I permitted to rise,” he asked Forgrave carefully. “Or shall I remain prone? I am unclear as to how your species prefers their prisoners.”
—Jas—

This was the first time Mike noticed the Lieutenant leaning against the wall on the other side of the room acting for all the world as if he
had been observing a sporting event. He then turned to Hab’rabi with a frown on his face and asked as he watched the man’s vitals on the display, “Is there some reason you should be a prisoner sir?”

Ensign Mike Jones MD

“It was our pleasure, but gratitude isn’t needed. It’s our job as doctors to do so,” Semenza responded to Hab’rabi. He was glad to see the surgery was a success, apparently a great success if he was already awake. He watched the patient’s vitals carefully and shook his head. “Prisoner or no, I think you should rest longer,” he said, glancing back at the CoS.

~ Lt Semenza, CMO