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Thread: Star Trek RPG - Mission #6: "Marala"

  1. #401
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    “Lieutenant Dahlquist, this is Dr. Nathaniel Bennett. I’m calling about Lt. Rangin.” Nathaniel doesn’t even bother to let the man respond. “I understand the orbital jump suit that he wearing was taken down to engineering for analysis after his accident. What have you found out?”

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    "The Chief Engineer was working on that, I think," Dahlquist says. "Did you want to talk to him?"

  3. #403
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    Nia clasps Booker's hand in return. "You didn't mess up our time together," she murmurs, searching his eyes. "I just don't fully understand why she would call Security... or you, specifically... if she's just 'upset.' I mean... if she's so unable to acclimate to life in Starfleet, why is she even here?"

    A frustrated exhale escapes her. "It's just... I had to beg and take eight million tests to be allowed into the Academy, much less be posted to active duty and eventually rise up in rank. Cripes, just to leave my planet, I had to learn a whole new way of breathing.

    "And even having mostly adjusted to M-class atmospheric conditions... every day is a battle against biology. My physical and mental reactions would suffer, big time, if I didn't constantly, instinctively, overcompensate.

    "Now don't get me wrong," Nia adds with a terse shake of her head. "I'm not patting myself on the back or asking for sympathy. I did it--I do it gladly. Because being here's a privilege. There are hundreds, probably thousands, of Starfleet officers who've also sacrificed and struggled but still aren't on a ship of this caliber. Postings like this are scarce. And here's Ensign Kylah, taking up a valued place, when she so clearly doesn't want to be here. Or isn't up to it. Or both."

    She brushes her thumb along his fingers. "Doesn't it bother you, Book?" she asks softly. "Doesn't worrying about that girl take up far too much of your headspace? Why? I know you feel something for her. Not romantically--at least, not that I know of. And even if you do, that's fine, whatever."

    Takes a little effort to toss that out casually, because yeah, that's a big lie, as her annoyance over Cece earlier showed. Still, Nia manages it and forges on. "But whatever she is to you, why do you protect her from her own mistakes? Wouldn't she be better off failing and learning how to survive a failure, rather than running to you every time she stubs a toe?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 18 Nov 2017 at 06:07 PM.

  4. #404
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    Nathaniel wants to respond to the ridiculous question by saying "Of course I do you idiot. Isn't that obvious?"

    But instead, showing restraint, he replies: "Yes please, thank you."

  5. #405
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    Soon, Chief Engineer Cheverez comes on the line. "Dr. Bennett? What can I do for you?" When Nathaniel explains, he says, "Right, yes, the divesuit. Well, preliminary scans and a physical examination of the suit show that there were near-simultaneous malfunctions of both the airflow regulator and the biosigns remote-access monitor. Very unusual - this is a pretty tried-and-true system. So right now, it looks like he passed out from O2 deprivation, but everything still showed as OK to the skydive coach."

  6. #406
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    Heart hammering, Kylah can hardly believe the warped version of the truth that Ferguson has just related to her. "That is what Mr. Zweller told you?" The works are choked through her tight throat. "That I led him on?"

    "I guess you were waiting for bigger fish, even then. You were just practicing on Darren, using your famous bait." Ferguson's mouth twitches into a sneer as he stares at every centimeter of her frame. "Only to snatch it away at the last minute. Wanted to keep that precious gift for someone really valuable, huh?"

    The barb unintentionally strikes her where she is most vulnerable, most wounded. "Yes," she breathes, the response drawn from her reflexively. She is almost hypnotized by memories of that hotel room on Omicron Ceti III. "Yes, I did want to wait."

    "Oh, I just bet. You're pretty smart to try and drive up the market. From what I hear, chastity on Elas is way rarer and more valuable than dilithium."

    Kylah bows her head. There is no point in arguing. He is correct about the lack of inhibitions other Elasians have toward sex. She has always been a freak in that regard.

    "But, see," he goes on, "that's what I don't get. When you finally gave it up, you aimed at the right people. We all heard the news after the mission to OCIII. You and that Lord Fastolfe pervert? Sure, that made sense. Why wouldn't you target the biggest celebrity in the quadrant? Then Palver, the trillionaire." Ferguson smirks. "A murderer, turns out, but at least he was rich. And even Admiral Hardin, supposedly! He's three times your age. I don't know whether to be disgusted or impressed by your ambition. Then... well, that's what I don't get. To go from them, to Rangin? A nobody, a less-than-nobody? That's one helluva dive. Oh, wait, I missed one. Wasn't there some Swiss business magnate stuck in there too, so to speak? I guess by then you were just slumming."

    Try as she might, the vision of that man's face as he drew her onto that hotel bed will never be erased. Not Swiss, she thinks as her eyes close. Norwegian.

    But she does not bother correcting Ferguson. "The news told lies," she says flatly, wishing it were all so. "Lies."

    "Right. Everyone's a liar except you, the virginal princess. The virginal Elasian princess."

    "Stop calling me that!" she snaps. "I was never a princess! And I am no longer--"

    Kylah cuts off, aghast. But she has already disgraced herself. Ferguson does not need her to continue.

    "Oh, I know that." A slow smile curls his lips. "Darren could tell."
    Last edited by choie; 21 Nov 2017 at 08:41 PM. Reason: Edited w/help from Elendil's Heir.

  7. #407
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    Graham frown and looks away. “If it were just stubbing a toe, or, for that matter, stepping on some officer’s toes, that would be one thing…”

    He squeezes her hand. “And I don’t mean to discount—I mean, I don’t think I even understand yet, what it took for you to be here.”

    With his free hand, he rubs the back of his neck. “But there’s a kind of man—yeah, male, humanity hasn’t gotten a certain kind of sickness out of our system after hundreds of years of technological enlightenment—who seek out—it’s like they can smell weakness. Vulnerability. Being alone…in a woman.”

    “I saw it on the job, I saw it…” He breathes deeply and looks away again. “I saw it with my own sister.” His jaw clenches, and his grip tightens on her hand as his body tenses, but he’s careful not to hurt her. He looks down. “Maybe I’m wrong and she simply ought to be a washout, but I think there are things going on with—to her…”

    His eyes return to Nia’s. “Sometimes she reminds me of my daughter, Nia. I have to be sure I’m wrong, if I am.”

    He pauses. “And if I’m not—”

    He looks away, afraid of what Nia might see in his eyes. “Well, no sense getting ahead of ourselves,” he says quietly, using his free hand to pat hers gently.

    He blinks and turns back to her, wondering what the hell she could possibly be thinking.

    “I…”

    I love you Nia. Just say it, dammit. I will even if you decide I’m a waste of time, it’s OK. I’ll understand.


    He clears his throat. “I, ah, I’d best get going.”

  8. #408
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    Nathaniel is barely able to mutter 'thank you' before he logs off.

    So the suit did malfunction, but that didn't explain the seizures or why Rangin had yet to recover when he should have. It had to be down to the strange antibodies in his blood, Nathaniel thinks. Or at least it was the best avenue to pursue at this point. He is already running a scan of the antibodies. No results on that yet. Nathaniel quickly finds a microscope in a nearby lab. He takes the sample of blood and puts it in the device. He peers into the device and puts the blood sample into intense focus. He hopes this might give him a much needed answer.
    Last edited by anthonydlangford; 23 Nov 2017 at 12:30 AM.

  9. #409
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    Nia listens intently to everything Booker says, and some things--undercurrents, fears, intimations--that he's not saying. The brief mention of his sister... she can imagine what that costs him, and how painful it must be to feel that history's repeating itself with Kylah.

    Warm empathy floods her, and she wants to embrace him, protect him, from the demons both inside and outside himself.

    Has anyone done that for Booker Graham since his wife died?

    "Wait," she murmurs hastily, swinging her legs over the bed and using his hand to pull herself to her feet. "Please. It's not ten minutes yet."

    Standing in front of him, she squeezes his fingers gently. "I understand your instincts, Book. You've only told me a little about Fiona, but... I can't fathom how that would've affected you. And in your line of work you've probably seen stuff less personal but just as bad. Maybe people you couldn't save."

    Nia's tempted to look away, but for that very reason she keeps her gaze steady on his. "You're right about predators, of course. I'm ashamed to say I ditched Sidonia because of one. Well, he was part of the reason, anyway. They come in different genders and use different tactics--sometimes--but yeah. They do hunt out vulnerabilities. Even ones we've done our best to hide." She bites her lip, worried she's said too much, then hurries on. "Or--or are invisible. They can see it all. Like creatures that can see parts of the light spectrum we can't, you know? Ultraviolet and so on.

    "And those tactics..." She hesitates again, judging how to broach this without getting his back up in defending Kylah, and chooses each word carefully. "They can be parasitic. Taking up a lot of your energy to feed their own needs. Or egos. I probably don't know the right vocabulary, I'm not great with psychology. It's like..."

    A thought strikes her, and she almost bounces on her toes once the analogy hits home. "We still have five minutes. Will you let me tell you something I learned a dozen years ago? Please, Book?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 23 Nov 2017 at 10:44 AM.

  10. #410
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    The scan of the antibodies in Rangin's blood confirms that they are not Coridanite; in fact, they do not show up anywhere else in the Starfleet Medical database, but appear to be unique to Rangin. Their UJ3 and KL8 subatomic markers indicate that the antibodies are almost certainly the result of genetic engineering. In his microscopic examination of Rangin's blood, Dr. Bennett sees that its red blood cell structures have been altered; that could well affect how oxygen is carried from the lungs to the rest of the body.

  11. #411
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    Darren. Could. Tell.

    The wall is cold and hard as Kylah's back strikes it--she has nearly crumpled and needs the support. She opens her eyes again, so sickened she cannot breathe. "How?" she asks, her voice tiny. "How could he tell? Did he..." A rise of nausea forces her to pause before she can get the words out. "Did he... rape me?"

    The transporter engineer pauses for what feels like hours. His gaze flicks down to her communicator. "Give that to me. I want to make sure it's off."

    "I am not stupid enough to relinquish this to you. But here!" She shoves the device up, opened so he can view the empty screen. "See for yourself! Now answer me, you foul excretion from a Denebian slime beast!"

    Ferguson squints, then he nods slowly. Kylah's stomach lurches in horror until she realizes the nod is only in confirmation that she is not recording the conversation. When he speaks, it is an exhale. "No. At least... not exactly."

    The difference between 'no' and 'not exactly' is lost on Kylah. It is a sickeningly narrow distinction, and she must clench her leg muscles in order to remain upright. "Then what, exactly? What did he do? What did you do?"

    "Oh, no, no, Ensign. I'm not giving you everything. Protection. I don't want you leaving here thinking you have anything over either me or Darren."

    Hatred, overwhelming and inexpressible, surges through her. Kylah is so furious she considers destroying this man with the one weapon unique to her race. Elasian tears could contaminate him; she could force him to do anything she asks, force him to submit, force him to be her slave.

    But she could not abide having such a creature romantically obsessed with her in such a way. Right now she cannot contemplate wanting anyone to think of her like that again.

    The machines clang away, along with the pounding in Kylah's head. She tries to prepare herself for what she must ask next: The question that haunts her even more than the others. "And what about Velir?"

    Ferguson suddenly looks wary. "What about him?"

    "What was his role in all this?" She feels the weight of her communicator in her hand, and then recalls the weapon that destroyed her previous communicator. Staring down, Kylah's unpleasant memories wash over her. The icy metal against her side. The excruciating pain up her spine, followed by paralysis. Helplessness.

    She has been stunned before, but this was worse. Whatever Darren Zweller used, it was no phaser. It seemed to target her specifically, calibrated to leave her unconscious just long enough for whatever vile plan Darren had concocted. And it even left her memory a blank.

    "Of course," she whispers. "The device. Velir is a xenobiologist and an expert at sensors. Did he create that... thing?"
    Last edited by choie; 24 Nov 2017 at 01:30 AM. Reason: Edited with help from Elendil's Heir

  12. #412
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    Nia faces him.

    Strong. Beautiful. Suddenly vulnerable, or at least it seems like it.

    Graham swallows and blinks. "Nia...you never have to say please to tell me something."

  13. #413
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    Genetic engineering? When the hell did that happen, Nathaniel thinks. It must be the result of the virus. That seems to be the root of everything. Could the virus not have been a virus designed to kill, but to change someone's genetic structure? Was that the real reason why those aliens had exposed the crew of the Yorktown to it? And what had they hoped to accomplish? Had everyone exposed to the virus had their genetic structure changed as well? Could they all just be like a time bomb, waiting to go off and create havoc to their bodies? Or was Rangin the only one affected, unique to him for some reason? Everyone exposed to that virus needs to be examined. But Nathaniel doesn't think it needs to be immediately if only because no one else was in imminent danger. Nathaniel knows his focus needs to be on Rangin as his life was at risk. Nathaniel needs to look closely at the virus, see if it changed Rangin's DNA and how it was done. Nathaniel begins to look in the Starfleet medical database to see if in fact, there was a sample of the virus on board that could be used for examination.

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    There is no sample of the virus on board, and none was recovered from the Sakathian system, as far as Nathaniel can tell. The young doctor sees that Rangin and a Lt. JG Fujishiro Tomoe Iota, a Science officer, both came back very ill from the mission. Fujishiro was rendered comatose, entered a persistent vegetative state and eventually died, but Rangin seemed to have made a complete recovery within days of his return. Archived scans of everyone else on the Sakathian mission reveal no trace of the virus in their bodies.

    Nathaniel realizes he's read something before about KL8 subatomic markers and blood oxygenation, but he can't quite place it....

  15. #415
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    Nia inhales, watching Booker intently. His concern is almost tangible; it's one of the traits she admires most about him. She has to be tactful about all this.

    "Okay. During my third year at the Academy, I did a stint at Utopia Planitia. I was on an Engineering track back then, 'cause the higher-ups thought that was where my real talent was."

    Her smile is warm but brief. "There's a point to this digression, I promise." She brushes a hand across Booker's face soothingly before clasping his fingers again.

    "Anyway, while I was there, Cmdr. Barry--one of the staff instructors, kind of a mentor--assigned me to help with this special project he was working on. A crazy little two-person prototype ship he was gonna call a Starleaper. Sexiest damn thing you've ever seen. For a ship," she adds with a sly look.

    "And damn, she was fast. Incredibly fast. Distancewise, you could zip the equivalent of Mars to the Oort Cloud in under a minute... from a standstill. Seriously, we gave her inertial dampeners so powerful we could take that baby from a mere hover to Warp 1 without anyone inside feeling so much as a jostle."

    Nia rubs Booker's skin absently. His hands feel a bit chapped, rough, and she likes the sensation. She wants those hands on her body, prickling across her scales, smoothing them down to the bare skin beneath.

    But she goes on doggedly. "Only one small problem: She was practically un-navigable. If we started at Mars, which obviously we always did, we had no idea where we'd end up. Maybe one of Pluto's moons. Maybe Ceres. Maybe ten orbits around the planet. Aaand maybe into the center of the Sun.

    "Which," she goes on with a rueful wince, "is not a hypothetical worst-case scenario. That's exactly what happened one day, with me at the controls. By then, Steve--um, Cmdr. Barry--felt I'd probably earn my stripes best as a pilot. And with the Leaper, I had to become an expert. Every ride was potentially lethal. Like piloting my parents' airships through the Sidonian flame-clouds, but even less predictable.

    "But even my best skills couldn't avoid Sol. They did keep us on the outer edge of the corona, thankfully, so we survived. Probably less from my brilliance behind the helm than the hard work we'd done on the shields. The Leaper was maxed-out on safety precautions. Still... we came close enough to getting fried. I thought I knew what heat was, from Sidonia, but that day... whew."

    Nia's smile turns bittersweet. "Even then, Steve didn't give up. Each time, he was sure, he was certain, that if he just did one last adjustment, one more test, she'd be the best new vessel in Starfleet. He convinced me too." She shakes her head, both in fondness and regret at their mutual obsession. Or mutual stupidity.

    "But our last trip clinched it. We'd returned from another wild ride, heading back to the Fleet Yards dirtside. The Leaper had other ideas. Instead of the shipyard, she lurched and bucked like a wild horse, sending us on a suicide dive straight for Storage Hut 12. I barely dragged her nose up before we crashed, but even so, the ship sheared off the building's two top floors. Mercifully, they were unoccupied at the time."

    She sighs, still torn by the mingled shame and relief of that day. "The Starleaper project was summarily scrapped, and Steve quit his post. His spirit was broken. This could've been an amazing piece of tech, but deep down I think we both knew it was doomed. He'd effectively wasted years of his life on something that was never gonna work. And nearly got us and who-the-hell-knows-how-many others killed in the bargain."

    Nia knows she's probably used most of the rest of their time, but she steps closer to Booker, near enough to feel his body warmth against her almost-naked skin. She tilts her head up to his and continues softly. "You get my point, right? I know what it's like to invest a lot of energy, time and even emotion on something that seems special, something precious. Maybe something you kinda love.

    "And maybe it'll be worth it in the end. Or maybe it's too damaged. Maybe it's destined to end up in wreckage. Maybe you'll walk away in a helluva lot of pain. Or, worse... maybe you won't walk away at all."

    Nia takes his hand, lifts it to her lips, and gives it a gentle kiss before raising her tender gaze to his. "What if Kylah's unfixable, Book? What if you try and try and try, and she sucks the life out of you in the process?"

    She closes the distance between them and rests her head on his shoulder. "Your daughter... I can't believe she's not the best parts of her mother, what you've told me about Jane. And the best of you, too. I bet she's got her mom's intelligence and grace. And your passion and strength. And like both of you, I bet she's a stubborn-ass fighter who takes on quests of all kinds."

    After another kiss, this one above his collar near his jawline, Nia closes her eyes. She ends softly, words whispered into his skin: "Kylah isn't her. I'm not saying give up... I wouldn't do that to anyone who genuinely needs help. I just... I don't see this quest ending well for you, Book."

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    Graham is silent and still as he listens to Nia. And as she lays his head on his shoulder…for a moment, it feels like…family.

    And even discussing Lizzy, without fighting about something…

    After a moment of silence between them, Graham squeezes Nia’s hand. “We’ll…well, I guess we’ll see.”

    He’s somber, reflective…and carries through in his tone…Sometimes walking away isn’t all its cracked up to be, he wants to say, except that they’re not arguing and arguing is the last thing in the universe he wants to do right now.

    He stands, gently rather than abruptly extricating himself, keeping hold of one of Nia’s hands assuming she lets him.

    He smiles slightly—about an even mix of sadness and pride. “You’re right that Lizzy’s one hell of a stubborn-ass fighter. A lot of the time, fighting me because I don’t want her to take on quests of any kind, I want her to be—to stay—safe.”

    He shrugs. “Yeah I know, what kind of hypocritical double standard is that…” He turns to go, then stops, and looks at Nia, earnestly. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

    (If Nia does not otherwise ask him to stay or prevent him from leaving, he heads to his rendezvous point.)

  17. #417
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    Nathaniel knows he is missing something about this, but he couldn’t place what it was. It frustrates him that this isn’t coming quicker to him. Perhaps there is something in the medical database that might jog his memory? Nathaniel begins a search in the database for KL8 subatomic markers, cross referencing it with blood oxygenation. Maybe he might finally find the answer he was looking for....

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    After half an hour or so, Nathaniel's research on the Library Computer brings him to an article in The Lancet. The article is about a study two years before of KL9, not KL8, subatomic markers in the Llortanian genome, and treatment of a chronic blood oxygenation disorder thought to be unique to that race, Horlen's Syndrome. He now remembers having read the article when it was first published. He has never had a Llortanian patient, however.

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lancet

  19. #419
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    It has been a long time since Nathaniel has spent this much time poring over records and information. He is more of a performing modern miracles through surgery kind of doctor. It's what got him his repuation. This took him back to his early days as a med student and an intern when he knew little and spent hours and hours educating himself. The only question was if it would pay off?

    It seems as if I am onto something, Nathaniel thinks, growing more excited by the minute. Continuing his research, he knows he has to closely examine Horlen's Syndrome and just how much it resembles the disorder that Rangin was suffering from. Also were there similarities between the Llortanian's and Coridanites species? He dives deeper into the Lancet and the Starfeet databases, cross referencing all the information he has. He also researches the treatment of Horlen's Syndrome. If there is enough similarities with all that he knows, he might have finally found what he needs to save his patient.

  20. #420
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    Nathaniel continues his research. The KL9 and KL8 markers are distinct, but Coridanite and Llortanian blood composition and circulatory systems are, he learns, very similar. Horlen's Syndrome is rare, chronic and incurable, but hardly ever terminal. There does not seem to be an analogous Coridanite malady, although Rangin's symptoms after his exposure to the Sakathian virus were comparable to those of a Llortanian who develops Horlen's Syndrome - with the key exception of the change to his psi potential. Llortanians have no psi potential at all and, according to all the literature, have never been known to develop it.

  21. #421
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    Nathaniel knows what he has to do next. Get the treatment for Horlen's Syndrome and administer it to Rangin. The poor man will never be cured of it, but at least, now that Nathaniel knows what it is, he can get the man back on his feet and then going forward, treat it like any other manageable, chronic illness.

    Nathaniel finally has an answer, he thinks with ever growing excitement. It wasn't life saving surgery, but it'll do.

    He continues his research, looking for the treatment of the illness and how best to implement it. And quickly.

  22. #422
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    Horlen's Syndrome is treated by carefully-controlled, targeted weekly exposure to radiolytic isotope radiation. The Yorktown does not have the equipment to generate such radiation in a clinical setting, but arrangements could probably be made at a major hospital. Nathaniel also realizes that it would be best for Rangin to remain unconscious until the therapy begins, given the differences in Llortanian and Coridanite physiologies. In light of that and the changes in Rangin's psi readings, minimal brain activity before therapy begins will quite possibly, he surmises, make the treatment more effective.

    http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Radiolytic_isotope
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 03 Dec 2017 at 06:42 PM.

  23. #423
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    As Kylah waits, her throat sore with suppressed tears, Ferguson lets out a bark of laughter. "Are you serious? You think Darren needed Rangin's help with that?" He shakes his head. "Darren's five times the tech Rangin is--so am I, for that matter."

    Kylah does not comment on their relative skills. She is beyond this now. “Then what? Tell me! How was Velir connected? I know he was. I saw how... how he and Zweller laughed together at Lt. Fujishiro's funeral. And Velir himself admitted they were friends back at the Academy."

    "Friends? Darren and a... you've got to be kidding me." Ferguson grins and scrapes a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "It's like I said. Back on Earth, Rangin was known as the guy who could get things. That's what they're famous for, right? Coridanites? We all knew it.

    "Actually that's how he and Darren met. Some plebes were giving Rangin a hard time about that, wanting him to provide some extra 'spice' for a party, and he got offended or maybe they didn’t offer him enough, I don’t know. Things supposedly got physical, or were about to. Darren saw the whole thing and it pissed him off. He stepped in, got in the middle, and stuck up for Rangin. Saved the little guy from a bad beating all by himself."

    "How noble," Kylah spits out.

    "Damn straight it was. No one else would've done it. And why should they? Rangin and his breed are only a few steps up from Orion Syndicate scum."

    The insult pains Kylah, makes her heart clench more tightly. Velir would be so distraught if he were to hear this slander.

    Ferguson continues. "The funny thing is, after Darren invited the guy to the party, somehow the goodies turned up after all. Darren wasn't into that stuff, but lots of people were grateful, and he figured Rangin had come through. Out of gratitude, I suppose. Incredible, all that protesting and then he gave in, just to get along with someone popular like Darren.” He eyes Kylah speculatively. “Guess that's what drew you two together? Same sort of underhanded, alien conquest mindset?"

    "We are all aliens out here," Kylah hisses. "Get to the point--to Velir’s role in Mr. Zweller’s schemes. You claim Velir owed him a favor. So what did he do? How did he help you in your plan to hurt me?"

    "Hurt you? We didn't--"

    "You did!" She almost flings herself away from the wall to step closer to Ferguson with clenched fists. "Zweller used that device on me. It was torture! It paralyzed me and I was vulnerable, sick for days. And worse, he did something to me while I was unconscious. Something you will not reveal. You think that did not hurt?"

    Ferguson remains silent, and Kylah continues, starting to cry in earnest. "I want to know, Mr. Ferguson. If you will not tell me about Zweller, speak for your own actions, for Velir's. Did you lay a hand on me? Did you touch me? Did... did Velir?" The name is a sob, and she bends her head, covers her eyes so he cannot see her wretched heartbreak. "Did he watch?"

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    Nia, while relieved that Booker isn't offended by her sticking her nose in, feels colder outside his embrace. She clutches his hand one last time before he backs away too far for her to hold on.

    "Nothing's more natural than the instinct to protect your kids. Or someone you care about. There's a private hell for those of us who don't try. Even if we can't."

    The last word comes out hoarse and nearly inaudible, and Nia looks away for a few seconds to hide her discomfort.

    "Anyway, I'll be here, later, if you're done and you want to... stop by." She gives a one-shouldered shrug and toys with the robe's belt, uncharacteristically inarticulate.

    Then her chin lifts and she meets his eyes with an intent, sincere gaze. "And Book... I hope Kylah's all right."

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    Now that Nathaniel has discovered the root of Rangin’s illness and how he is to be treated, Nathaniel know he is going to have to report his findings to Dr. Villa. As much as Nathaniel loathes reporting to anyone, she is in charge, for now anyway. And she had put him on a deadline, no doubt as a test of his abilities. Besides, the ship is going to have to change direction to take Rangin to a nearby hospital, if they weren’t coming near one as part of their travels. Either that or someone would have to take a shuttlecraft there. If that is the case, Nathaniel hopes it’s not him. He has too much to do on board to be sent off on some errant mission.

    He reaches for his communicator and flips it open. “Dr. Villa, please.”

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    The CMO soon answers. "Yes, Dr. Bennett. Any developments?"

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    Nathaniel goes on to explain to Dr. Villa what he has discovered as well as his recommended course of treatment.

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    "Radiolytic isotope radiation, eh?" she says. "Well, you're right, we can't provide it as a treatment here. Do you think a hospital down on Beta Antares IV might be able to? Look into it, please. I'd hate to have to leave Mr. Rangin behind when we leave for Novy Rostov, but it might come to that. I'll give orders that he's to remain sedated in the meantime."

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    Graham smiles slightly and sighs at Nia's last comment as he opens the door to go.

    "Ahhh...well, I'd settle for 'all right enough,' at this point..."

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    The silence after Kylah's pained questions lasts too long. When she looks up again, Ferguson's expression is one of confusion--and after she reaches her senses outwards with almost brute force to read his emotions, she is surprised to discover his reaction is genuine.

    He tilts his head. "Did Rangin watch? I don't... Wait. If you and Rangin were involved... Why do you think he had anything to do with this?"

    Kylah does not know what game he is playing, but she knows there is little point to lying. "Because he never approved of me. Not truly. He was always quick to believe the worst of me. And when I saw his behavior at the funeral, laughing like comrades with Mr. Zweller and you..." Her voice breaks. "Suddenly it all made sense."

    "What did?"

    "Everything. Our relationship, such as it was. I never imagined someone like him would see any worth in me, nor understood why he would care. Once I knew the three of you were friends, I saw what was behind it all. A plot." She blinks, tears turning Mark Ferguson into a blurry, gold-and-red monster, and whispers the rest: "A plot to capture my heart and break it."

    Ferguson makes a sound like a laugh, but it is not one of triumph; more of disbelief. "Wow," he says, almost to himself. "That would be messed up. I almost wish..." He chuckles again, then pauses before continuing. "Okay, I'm going to do one thing for you, Princess. And I'll make it fast, if only because it's gotta be ten minutes and your pet security officer's gonna be sniffing you out any second now. I don't want Bulldog Graham tearing a piece out of me."

    The tall man straightens. "Ensign Rangin had nothing to do with... any of this. After Darren arrived on board the Yorktown, he was surprised to find the little guy here. Later he told me he barely remembered Rangin, actually, and wouldn't even have remembered that whole party incident from the Academy if Rangin hadn't brought it up. So why would Darren involve him in his plans for you? He's not stupid enough to share his toys with some Coridanite he barely knows or trusts."

    Kylah, her hands frozen in the act of wiping her eyes, stares at Ferguson in gape-mouthed shock. This turns to a swell of elation--Velir had nothing to do with this, I was wrong, I was wrong!--but soon each breath grows heavier and more labored with leaden guilt.

    "Oh no..." she exhales. "All this time I--I accused him of betraying me. Of what you did." She covers her mouth in agony. "What if he does not wake up? He could die, and the last words I would have said to him were such--such horrible things!"

    "Yeah, well. That's a lesson for you. You'd better make sure your accusations have some rock-hard solid evidence behind them."

    Kylah's chin jerks upwards and her glare blazes at him. "Lt. Ferguson. My accusations against Velir may have been false. But as for you... This is not finished. Not at all! You have already admitted to me--"

    "I've 'admitted' not a damn thing." He leans forward, looming over her. "Now, you need to shut up and start moving that shapely behind of yours. Which I've seen a lot of. And will see more of, again, if I want. Especially if you make any more trouble for me or Darren. Do you understand?"

    "No!" Kylah's skin burns as she registers his insinuating words. "What are you saying, what do you mean you will see more of--"

    "You heard me. Right now you're safe. But don't press further. I know you're digging into this. I saw Mr. Delaney working on a damaged communicator, and he told me you'd given it to him. So obviously you're trying to figure things out--but you won't, and you'd better not keep it up."

    "Do not threaten me!"

    "It's not a threat. I'm telling you your future, Princess. Darren isn't finished with you, and things are gonna get worse. But it'll only come faster, and harder, and a lot more worse, if you push."

    The longer she tries to read his expression, the harder and more menacing his own gaze becomes. Dread turns her skin clammy, and finally she bows her head in submissive defeat. This alone seems to mollify him, and he continues in a murmur. "All right. So I'll ask again: do you understand?"

    Almost blind with tears and deafened by the relentless machinery around them, Kylah nods. "Yes."

    When he says nothing further. She pauses to wipe her bleary eyes before looking up in expectant fear--

    No one is there.

    With a gasp, she looks around, afraid that he has somehow sneaked behind her. No; he has gone. She cannot feel his intense, contemptuous aura.

    Kylah leans against the wall to support her shaking frame. She can hardly take in all she has learned, everything she has revealed about herself.

    What she does know is that she has committed a grievous injustice against Velir Rangin. He has cruelly misjudged her too, but that does not matter to her conscience. She must tell him how terribly sorry she is. Even if he hates her still. Even if he cannot hear her. He must know.

    Gathering her strength, Kylah rushes forward and does her best to find her way from this wretched room, to attempt to navigate the maze of corridors that took her here, and hopefully to seek out the turbolift that will take her to Sickbay.



    Edited with help from Elendil's Heir.
    Last edited by choie; 09 Dec 2017 at 04:04 AM.

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    "You do that." Nathaniel says dryly, as he bristles at the fact that she calls the shots when it came to his patients. It is going to be difficult not being in charge, he sees that more and more, he thinks. He realizes he should have thought of that before accepting this assignment. But it wouldn't have changed things though. He has to be here, no matter what the difficulty. "I'll look into whether the facility on Beta Antares IV can care for him. Anything else you need to know?"

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    "That should do it for now," the CMO says. "Thank you, Dr. Bennett."

    Onn's communicator beeps.
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 11 Dec 2017 at 09:30 AM.

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    Having removed her robe to change into something more.... well, something more... Nia is busy pulling out a uniform when she hears her communicator.

    After two strides to her night table, she picks up the device. "Onn here."

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    Kylah emerges from the machine-filled room and, relieved by the quiet after the door whooshes shut, takes a moment to look around and assess in what direction she needs to travel. For the first time she notices signage outside the door: ESD Access Compartment 5.

    This tells her nothing. It would probably not be enlightening even if her mind were not already so distracted. Right now she does not even remember the path she took to get here, and feels a swell of confused frustration.

    If any crewmember passes by, she will ask for her location and directions to the nearest turbolift.

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    "Hi, Nia," comes the voice of Giya, the Deltan chemist. "It's me. Got your text earlier. Sorry to be so late in replying. Giacomo and I were... kind of busy." She practically purrs. "I'm back shipboard now, though."

    A bearded young man in Science blue walks by Kylah, looks at her with concern and stops. "You're on Deck 7, Section D, aft. The turbolift's just down that way and to your left. But... are you all right, Miss?"

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    Bobbing her head in a terse nod, Kylah cannot help laughing, not quite on the verge of hysteria but more shrill than she would like. "Yes. I mean, no. That is... I am just... having a difficult day." And week, and month, and year...

    "But thank you, sir," she adds, controlling herself. "I have been on board almost four months and yet I still find these corridors all alike. I continually find new ways to get lost. That room..." Kylah glances back at the door, so innocuous on the outside, so confusing and intimidating within. "What is that place?"

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    Nia's lips tilt in amusement. "Well, good for you, Gi. Sounds like you had a nice dessert to cap off our lunch--heaven knows it took you long enough to gobble it up. Gotta say I was getting a little worried. You never know with strangers."

    She sighs and pulls open her dresser to grab her Starfleet regulation stockings. The first pair she retrieves has a snag, which makes her frown--these things are almost indestructible. Huh. Maybe happened on the Naradraen fighting the Klingons?

    Well, that's annoying. Plus she's usually better about getting rid of useless stuff.

    Then a memory strikes her, and she winces. Oh wait. Yeah. That was the same mission that ended with Booker getting hit by a disruptor thanks partly to her bad judgement. After that fuck-up, organizing her wardrobe wasn't exactly at the top of her priorities.

    Tossing the ruined item onto her bed, she finds a fresh pair and sits down to slip them over her legs. "We had a good time, in case you were wondering," Nia says, grinning as she points her now-stockinged toes, stretching first one leg, then the other to make sure each is smooth and wrinkle-free. "But after all the months you've had to restrain yourself, I doubt you have any energy left to wonder about the rest of us poor, dessert-less souls, hmm?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 14 Dec 2017 at 09:04 PM.

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    Nathaniel ends the conversation without so much as a goodbye. But then he is never one for goodbyes.

    He goes to the bulkhead and taps the communicator button.

    "Bridge, I'd like to speak to the Communications Officer on Duty."

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    The Science ensign glances back. "That's... let's see... 'ESD'... that would be, uh, an Environmental Support Ducting compartment." He looks at Kylah again. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

    Giya laughs. "That was going to be my next question, I swear. Did you have a good time? I hear you and Graham were able to meet dirtside after all."

    A woman with a broad Australian accent responds to Dr. Bennett, "This is Ens. Davis. Go ahead."

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    Graham heads to his intended meeting with Kylah, keeping his eyes out for anything out of the ordinary and asking by-passers how they're doing (as if he were on his shipboard beat) as he goes.

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    The crewman's concern, paradoxically, calms Kylah somewhat. She takes a deeper breath, exhales, and offers a brief, shy hint of a smile.

    "Yes, thank you, I am sure, Mr....' She glances at his sleeve to see if she can identify his rank, at least whether he is her superior. "I do not believe we have met. I am--"

    The hesitation before giving her name is automatic, as is her blush. He must have heard of her, given the gossip that--if Mr. Ferguson is to be believed--predated her arrival on the ship, and then the notoriety due to the incident in the break room with Ferguson, not to mention the scurrilous accusations after Omicron Ceti III and the kidnapping on Anubis...

    No, it is too much to hope that her name will be unfamiliar. She only hopes this stranger will be not be too prejudiced against her. He seems kind.

    "--I am Ensign Kylah," she finishes, lifting her chin in a tiny attempt at defiance. "And though I must hurry to meet a friend, I would be grateful to know the name of someone who has been so courteous to me."

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    "Oh we met." Nia steps into a fresh gold uniform and fastens the back while continuing to describe the finale to the afternoon. "And a purer and shorter date would be hard to imagine--not that I expected anything more, at least not dirtside, considering Luisa was with us. A walk, some sweet treats, and then off he went to meet with Vargas."

    Nia's about to reveal Booker's promotion, but holds off just in case Book wants to keep it low key. Can't see a reason why he would... still, who knows? Not her decision to make.

    "...And as if that weren't enough of a bucket of cold water, when he came back here--with me in that ridiculous robe, you know the one, basically almost as transparent as our shields?--he had to leave again because of a distress call from little miss royal pain--"

    Oh. Crap. Probably should've left that part out. Nia closes her eyes and sits down. "Um... doesn't matter," she says, though it sounds unconvincing even to her. "Things didn't happen, that's all. It's getting frustrating. We're a perfect pair in every way but one: our sex lives are star-crossed."

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    Graham sees several crewmates along the way, maybe half of whom he knows personally. Everyone seems to be fine.

    The Science ensign doesn't react to Kylah's name, but says, "I'm Frederick Mayhew, the new geologist." He nods pleasantly. "Pleasure to meet you, Ens. Kylah. Don't let me keep you; hope to see you around!"

    Giya says, "Sorry to hear that, Nia. Well, at least you haven't had to swear an oath or anything." She chuckles mock-morosely.

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    Nia winces. "Damn. I'm sorry, Giya, I didn't mean to whine when you have to deal with much worse. Well... you know where my sympathies lie on that subject."

    Giya certainly should know. When she first told Nia about the proposed oath, Nia had blasted Starfleet and called the idea a dumbass mother-fucking short-sighted dictatorial decision.

    She still thinks it's crazy and unfair. And she has no idea how Giya tolerates it.

    Well, water under the bridge. Or the Bridge, she should say. Ha. Pursing her lips in annoyance, Nia reaches for her boots to finish her outfit. "If you're up for it, I wanna hear the details on this Giacomo guy. Let's plan to catch up soon, if our free times are in sync, okay?"

    If Giya agrees, Nia will promise to send a message when she knows her watch schedule for the week. Then she'll end the conversation and finish getting dressed. She's considering strolling down to Engineering to see if there's anything she can poke her nose into.

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    Kylah's ears perk up at Ensign Mayhew's words. New! He is new! Then he will probably not know...

    Here, finally, is someone who will have no prejudices against her. Someone who might be a friend, without ulterior motives.

    Now her second smile is warmer, and lasts a little longer. "It is good to meet you as well, Mr. Mayhew. And welcome aboard." She flushes again. "I--I am embarrassed to have a worse sense of the ship's layout than someone even newer than myself. I am sure you will acquit yourself well on the Yorktown."

    Her pleasant expression fades slightly. Certainly he will do a better job than she has.

    Kylah nods politely and hurries off, following Mayhew's instructions to find the turbolift to get to Sickbay.
    Last edited by choie; 18 Dec 2017 at 12:15 AM.

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    Nathaniel realizes he's jumped the gun and thinks maybe it would be a good idea to know who to ask for at what hospital before calling the bridge. He curses himself for that silly mistake and wonders why he had made it to begin with. Maybe he just wants this damned case off his plate so he could take care of some other matters. He had his distractions to be sure, but he couldn't afford to let them get the best of his common sense. He signs off from Engisn Davis and lets her know he'll be in touch shortly. He then begins to scan the medical database to find out what would be the best hospital for Rangin and who would be the person to ask for to get this done the fastest.

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    "Don't worry about it," Giya says, and adds, "Sure, that'd be fine. See you around, Nia."

    Mayhew gives Kylah a friendly smile and a wave, and leaves. Kylah finds the turbolift just where he said it would be, and soon finds herself at Sickbay's door.

    Ens. Davis signs off politely. Dr. Bennett sees that there are three major hospitals on the planet below, one of which, Holloway Memorial, is the largest and best-regarded of the three. He finds a listing for a Dr. Antoinette Shane, head of the radiological medicine department. She has excellent qualifications and references.

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    Graham takes note of how relieved and, to some extent, surprised he is to see Kylah as he approaches Sickbay: thank god my first official act as ACOS wasn't having to declare a shipwide missing persons alert...

    He approaches and clears his throat at a respectful distance.

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    Kylah is nearly at the Sickbay door when a shape seems to manifest out of nowhere in front of her--mainly because she has been staring at the floor most of the journey here. She takes a sharp inward breath and jerks her head up. Even though she requested his presence, Mr. Graham is a surprising sight.

    "Oh!" She stops short, both hands clasping her communicator in prayerful gratitude. "You are here. I was not sure, after everything..." Kylah blinks, embarrassed. "I said hurtful things to you, but you came anyway."

    The emotions of the day threaten to overwhelm her. Biting her lower lip, she takes a step forward and reaches out with one gentle hand to touch his arm, very lightly; very briefly. "Thank you, sir," she whispers. Then, afraid someone--like Ferguson--will see and misinterpret the gesture, she yanks her hand back and holds both arms stiffly at her sides.
    Last edited by choie; 21 Dec 2017 at 02:13 AM.

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    Once Nia has her boots on, she grabs an oval bronze barrette from her night table and uses it to pull her bushy mane of tight curls into its usual low ponytail. Now she's ready to have some off-duty fun. At least, fun as she defines it.

    An itch in the back of her brain needs scratching: some unfinished business that, while not technically her purview, still matters to her because she thinks of the Yorktown with the same proprietary affection that ancient human cowboys felt toward their horses--at least, if she believes the dozen hokey black-and-white vids she politely watched while dating a human back during her previous posting.

    Despite all the activity since the start of the last mission to Sigma Iota II, Nia's sharp memory recalls two peculiar Engineering-related incidents just before the crew's attention focused on solving the CAG kidnapping. And Nia's curious to see if there've been any answers to what were, at the time, unsolved puzzles.

    Flipping open her communicator, Nia will send a quick text to Lt. Dahlquist, Lt. Mille, and Ens. Trigorin asking if any of them are currently on duty. Whoever happens to be active will be getting a visit, if he's not too busy.

    She leaves her quarters and strides down the corridor in the direction of the nearest turbolift--although it may not be necessary, depending on who answers first and which Engineering section he's in.
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 21 Dec 2017 at 03:16 AM.

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