Star Trek RPG - Mission #2: "Primum Nil Nocere"

The Yorktown beams over standard-issue Starfleet ditty bags of extra clothing and toiletries for each of you. Lt. JG Bennett says that personal items can be beamed over at your request.

You all gather in the space station's dining hall at the appointed hour. Dr. Waite introduces you to the rest of the Miskatonic U. scientists and support staff; you notice that all are human except for Sellein, a female Tiburonian lab technician, and Grev, a male Caitian engineer. A handful of Sakathians, led by Director Geb and including a rather stern Security Chief Porr, are also there. There is plentiful food and drink. Waite and Pierce tell you which of the Sakathian consumables are safe and/or tasty.

http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Tiburonian
http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Caitian

Kylah arrives at the hall with the others. As she looks around the table, she's fascinated by Grev in particular--this is the first Caitian she's ever seen, and she has to force herself not to stare. Elas has felines, though only lap-sized ones, and Kylah has fond memories of her own family pet. Obviously Grev is no mere mute animal, and she realizes she'd better get used to the differences quickly lest she make an egregious mistake in dealing with him.

Nevertheless, his presence soothes her unease somewhat, as does seeing a Tiburonian among their number. Surely such representatives--one from a race that shares so much with its distant feline relatives, and another from a people who'd suffered through torture in the name of so-called science--might help ensure that whatever experiments are about to occur here are ethical and humane. Frankly, the sinister look of Chief Porr and what she personally considers Dr. Waite's glib attitude toward their research subjects have made the animals' safety one of Kylah's biggest concerns. That and the virtual waves of dislike that Porr seems to be sending in her direction.

She moves to take a seat near Glev, hoping to learn more about him and his fellow Caitians, and greets him respectfully.

Collins makes polite conversation with the other dinner guests, then chooses a seat near one of her team, but not Ensign Kylah. I'm still not sure about her. She's competent, that's obvious. But why is a Elasian in Starfleet at all?. Jeremi decides that a worry for another time, and sips what she discerns to be a red wine. She follows the doctors' recommendations and chooses a lightly sauced, she guesses, fowl, and some vegetation.

T'Var fills her plate with "safe" food. She then sits next to Dr. Pierce.

"I am concerned with the death of certain cells we will be studying," the doctor says bluntly. "It would be helpful if some of our research focused on how and why this occurred."

Glancing up, Kylah senses Collins's moment of hesitation and doesn't fail to notice that despite the empty seat beside her, the mission commander chooses to sit elsewhere. A raised eyebrow is her only outward reaction and she turns back to Grev.

"I would be very interested to learn about Miskatonic University," she says to the technician, watching him with what's probably not-very-well-disguised fascination. "And about you as well, of course. How long have you been involved in this research?"

Collins finds the food and wine to be palatable, if not quite as good as she has had aboard ship. She catches up Dr. Waite on the latest news from Earth.

Dr. Pierce asks Dr. T'Var, "Death of cells up to now, or once the studies begin? We can run tests as to the former, but have no plans as to the latter. Some cell line die-off is perfectly normal, of course. Hardly anything lives forever."

Grev smiles toothily at Ens. Kylah. He has thick, soft-looking brown fur, and tends to purr his "r"s. He says, "How do you do, Ensign? I have only been to the Univerrrsity's campus twice, and have mostly worrrked offworrrld since I was hirrred. I have been a lab tech for nine yearrrrrs. I focus on ensuring that our scientists have everything they need to produce replicable results with properrrrr records, and that tests are run consistently and with properrr controls."

"All living things do die," T'Var says evenly. "However, it makes sense to find out why perfectly healthy living things die. There must be a reason and that reason could have great significance."

T'Var takes a bite of food. She frowns. "I would not consider this 'tasty' be any means." The doctor takes another bite. Her frown deepens. "I certainly hope it is safe to eat. I do not enjoy moments of gastro-intestinal upset."

Dr. Pierce laughs. "That's hevvar, a Sakathian staple. Kind of like a spicy vegetable paste. It won't kill you, but it's an acquired taste for some. I really enjoy it, but guess I can't predict what a Vulcan will or won't like. As to the cell lines, if you'd like, I'll look over your records. Maybe I can help you figure out why some of the lines died off."

T'Var stares at the rest of the food on her plate. Nothing looks all that appealing to her.

"I would appreciate any assistance you can give me regarding the cell lines," the doctor says. "My records are quite detailed, of course."

After another look at her plate, T'Var says, "And your assistance in making a better food choice would also be most appreciated."

Even though she knows better, Collins has a second glass of wine. She talks politely with those seated around her, but she is clearly distracted.

As Dr. Pierce leads T'Var back to the buffet table, the Vulcan physician notices Collins drinking alcohol - highly inadvisable, she knows, for a pregnant woman.

T'Var will keep a close eye on Collins, but will say nothing for now. Collins is a grown woman and a capable Starfleet Officer. If this drinking pattern continues, however, T'Var will discuss the matter with Dr. Villa.

The evening passes pleasantly, and you all go to your rooms at the end of the dinner party. It's been a long day. Pourtash nevertheless has a touch of insomnia. When he decides to stretch his legs and see more of the station, he is unable to get past the door at the end of the corridor. He realizes that all Starfleet personnel and Miskatonic University staff are locked in for the "night."

Collins wakes early, very nauseous, and is only just able to get to the head (toilet) before vomiting.

Collins brushes her teeth, twice, and swishes some mouthwash for a couple of minutes. That weak-assed buzz was not worth the bottle it came in. I should have packed some of my private stash. She showers and dresses and steps out into the corridor. She goes to the closed door at the end of the hall with the intention of finding coffee.

T'Var joins Collins.

"I would strongly suggest a great deal of hydration," the doctor says in a neutral tone. "Preferably water or fruit juice."

"Coffee, first" mumbles Collins, "then some protein. Then we'll see about the water and fruit juice." Blearily Collins reaches for the door's latch with one hand, and rubs her eyes with the other.

The door seems to be locked. Collins feels another overpowering wave of nausea coming on.

Kylah is dressed and ready for--well, whatever anyone needs her for--though she's not feeling very refreshed after a fitful night's sleep and a discomfiting morning. When she enters the corridor and sees the other two women at the end of it, a scowl lowers her brows. Collins looks far greener than any Vulcan, much less Dr. T'var. The human's nausea is so blatant Kylah is feeling sympathetic roiling in her own stomach just looking at her.

"Are you unwell, Mr. Collins?" she asks, stating the patently obvious. "With respect, should you not be in bed?" Her tone expresses far more annoyance than a very junior officer should show her mission commander, but she knows the sooner Collins is gone the sooner she'll feel better herself. She turns almost accusingly to the doctor. "Why are you not tending her? And why are we congregating here by the doorway?"

[removed duplicate post - EH]

Collins lifts her head to look at Kylah with a bewildered expression, then makes a mad dash for her cabin. Her makes it to the head with nanoseconds to spare. When the wave finally passes after what seems like hours, she sits back on her heels. and tries to catch her breath.

"Patience and discretion, Ensign Kylah," is all T'Var says before quickly heading to her own cabin for a medikit.

T'Var finds Collins and administers a hypospray of electrolytes and anti-nausea medication. "Are you well enough to continue with our mission, Mr. Collins?" the doctor asks.

Collins reflexively rubs her arm at the point of contact, even though no pain was involved. "Absolutely," she says as she stands and straightens her uniform, "and thank you. You've kept my secret, yes? I've made a decision, but this is neither the time nor place to deal with it."

Rangin and Fujishiro emerge from their cabins almost simultaneously and see Kylah looking down the corridor. "What's going on?" the Japanese woman asks.

Kylah has tried the door a couple of times by now and swivels to face Rangin and Fujishiro in growing frustration. "What is going on?" she asks, her eyes dangerously bright. "First, our mission commander is--not feeling well," she says with more tact than her first impulse wanted to use. "Second, our doctor is tending her. And third, our quarters have apparently turned into our cages. We seem to have been locked into confinement like the unfortunate lab animals we've delivered into these cretinous ingrates' care."

While the others absorb this, Kylah snaps open her communicator. "Ensign Kylah to the Yorktown. Please respond if you can hear me." While waiting she mutters, "If this works I shall be greatly surprised."

"I take my oath as a physician quite seriously," T'Var assures Collins. "Your 'secret' is safe with me -- and the entire medical staff."

Collins motions to the door of her cabin, and follows T'Var out into the corridor just as Kylah is attempting to contact the Yorktown. "Ensign?" Collins addresses Kylah, wondering why the juniormost officer has taken it upon herself to initiate contact with the ship. She's not annoyed, only slightly incredulous.

"I'm glad you are no longer indisposed, Lt. Collins," Kylah says, flicking her gaze at Jeremi. "Since I had no idea how long you would be ill, I thought it best to try the ship to see if we have been cut off from the outside universe as well as from the outside of our quarters. No immediate response, but that may not mean anything; any number of factors might prevent swift transmissions to and from the Yorktown--any stellar flares in the vicinity, for example."

The young communications officer is secretly glad there's at least something she can offer, though she knows she's saying nothing that any of the other crew members don't know. Her role in this mission has been primarily observational, especially since her efforts with brokering some semblence of an understanding with the Sakathians were either fruitless or rather prematurely interrupted by the very officer now looking at her as if she's sprouted Andorian antennae. Getting a chance to be of use would be most satisfying.

"Yorktown here," comes the voice of Lt. Thalen over the comm channel after only a few seconds. "Good morning, Ens. Kylah."

Dr. Pierce wanders out of her quarters, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She seems a little surprised to see you all there.

Kylah heaves a quiet sigh of relief. "Good morning, sir. My apologies if I contacted you unduly, but there is an unusual situation here. We appear to have been locked in our quarters. This may be common procedure on this station but we had not been informed of it. And as Mr. Collins was briefly indisposed, I thought it prudent to ensure that we were still able to communicate with the ship."

T'Var will leave the situation with Kylah in the capable hands of Collins. It is not her place to interfere, of course.

The doctor acknowledges Dr. Pierce with a smile. "Good morning," T'Var says. "We seem to be stuck in the corridor. Is there a logical reason why?"

Collins hears Thalen's reply and opens her communicator. "Collins here, Lieutenant. Ensign Kylah is correct. The door at the end of this corridor, leading to the labs and the rest of the station, is locked. It could simply be on a timer, or something is going on that the Sakathians wish to keep from us." Jeremi would love to blast the door, but has no phaser.

Dr. Pierce, overhearing Collins's remark, says, "Didn't anyone tell you? The Sakathians keep this doorway locked until about 0830 every day. Sometimes a little later, but never earlier." She glances at the wall chrono. "Relax. Should be opening any minute now."

Over the communicator, Thalen asks, "Is there anything else, Mr. Collins?"

"No, Sir. Not at this time. Collins out." Collins turns to face Dr. Pierce. "Okay, that's twice. What else is routine that you haven't told us?" Her impatience starts to show.

Kylah finds herself agreeing with Collins for once. Her mind floods with questions. How can Pierce just accept this behavior on the Sakathians' part? Is this more of their paranoia, and how do these doctors not find it insulting to be so distrusted after all their service? How is this not worrisome to her, not to mention potentially dangerous if something should occur to require a speedy evacuation? Is the lock intended for protection--and if so, whose? Ours or theirs?

Somehow she restrains herself. "And with all due respect, Dr. Pierce, regardless of what time the doors unlock, why need they lock the doors at all? It would help us adapt to their behavior if you'd explain it to us. Is there a way to unlock it from this side we simply have not discovered?"

Others start to drift out of their quarters now - several Miskatonic U. staff, greeting each other and chatting quietly, as well as Lt. JG Delaney.

Dr. Pierce says to you, rolling her eyes a little, "The Sakathians say it's for our protection as well as theirs. I think it's just a reflection of their xenophobia; they don't want us wandering the station at night. There's a security guard posted right on the other side, and you can use the comm panel there to call him or the station control center in an emergency. It's never been necessary, that I know of."

There is a muted clicking sound, and the door slides open. You see a Sakathian guard standing on opposite side, a weapon on his hip. The MU people move past him, en masse, to the mess hall for breakfast.

Despite the shot from Dr. T'Var, Lt. JG Collins still feels the aftereffects of her earlier nausea.

"I suggest we have some breakfast," T'Var says to the group. "Any and all time we spend with the Sakathians might help to curb their xenophobia a bit."

Collins chooses some tea with honey, some dry toast, and some yogurt. She sits at a small table by herself; she's just not in the mood for small talk right now.

Noticing Collins's solitude, Kylah frowns in concern, worried that the Lt. JG's obvious distraction might prove troublesome on the mission. But keeping Collins in good health, both body and spirit, is Dr. T'Var's lookout. Too, Mr. Pourtash is presumably up to the challenge of taking on additional responsibilities if necessary, considering she's heard he was previously a mission commander himself.

None of my affair, Kylah thinks, and decides to focus on T'Var's wise words of advice. To that end--and bearing in mind Collins's own orders that she act as one of the liaisons to the Sakathians--Kylah seeks out Director Geb: the sole Sakathian with whom they've had any dealings so far. Perhaps a discreet, friendly and non-threatening talk over breakfast might do some good.

She wills herself to release her lingering annoyance over the locked door issue. Still, the whole thing is absurd. Even Elasians, not known for trusting outsiders, would not be such ungracious hosts to a team of whom they'd actively sought help.

Well. At least I wouldn't, she amends with a small smirk, thinking back on how Starfleet officers had been treated when first encountered.

T'Var and most of the Yorktown boarding party select their breakfasts and sit among the Sakathians in the mess hall. You find them polite but not exactly chummy.

Collins is able to eat her breakfast in peace and finds her nausea ebbing a bit by the time she's done.

Kylah sees Director Geb at a small table not far away, also eating alone. "May I join you?" the Communications ensign asks.

"Of course," the Sakathian officer says, gesturing. "I hope you rested well."

Kylah nods politely. The Sakathians, like Kylah herself, don't seem prone to smiling unduly, and though with humans Kylah has gradually forced herself to become more outwardly emotive, she doesn't want to fall into the trap of assuming Sakathians use facial gestures the same way other races do.

"Our quarters were most comfortable, Director. I thank you for providing such accommodations." She sips the hot drink provided by the Sakathian cook, which is bitter and nearly undrinkable--frankly, the same can be said for the Earth coffee she'd tried back in the Academy, which is why Kylah has always stuck with hot lemonade, a closer approximation of the light, refreshingly tart Elasian breakfast beverage Dahl she's used to.

Kylah takes a calculated risk. Sometimes honesty is appreciated and can knock down barriers. "You may have heard another tale of our embarrassing ignorance of your procedures, as displayed this morning," she says with a self-deprecating shake of her head. "My most sincere apologies. I and the other Starfleet officers were unaware of your policy of securing the sleeping quarters during the night, and since we are not used to this precaution, we were alarmed and thought something might have gone wrong. Please forgive me if you've heard of our reaction and thought it untoward. I expect it's a standard safety procedure? With so many unusual creatures being housed here, I suppose one must be especially careful not to let anyone walk the ship unaccompanied, even on an innocent night stroll."

She places a hand on her chest. "I would be sincerely grateful if you would accept my apology. As it is my duty to learn more about your culture, I take it as my own failing if my fellow crewmates and I caused any offense. We meant no disrespect but that, of course, does not mean we did not do so unwittingly."

T'Var finds her breakfast palatable, at least. She observes Collins sitting alone. Perhaps not what the mission leader should do at this point, but considering the circumstances....

The doctor sighs and notices Kylah talking with Director Geb. The young ensign has potential and T'Var is impressed with how Kylah has handled herself thus far -- despite her overly anxious actions at times.

Feeling more like herself, Collins cleans her spot, and walks over to T'Var's table, "Thank you, Doctor, although I think this may be with me at a low level all day. Would you please test me for toxins from last night's meal? I may ask for emergency rations to be beamed over for me."

"No apology is necessary, Ensign," Geb says calmly. "Neither I nor my staff have taken any offense. The door to the visitors' quarters corridor is always locked at night. I would have thought the Miskatonic scientists would have told you."

Dr. T'Var's medical tricorder scan of Collins shows no toxins, but increased estrogen and progesterone levels, and the characteristic biochemical indications of nausea gravidarum, known since time immemorial as "morning sickness."

Kylah shakes her head. "We have had surprisingly little interaction with the Miskatonic students, Director. But I thank you for your patience with us; you are very kind." She sips the bitter beverage and expertly hides her distaste. Yes, this is definitely even worse than Earth's coffee. Fortunately after her cousin's wedding, countless celebrations consisting of fare from Troyius--truly execrable, to Kylah's sensibilities--taught her to feign pleasure when eating the foulest of foreign meals. This Sakathian drink is positively ambrosial in comparison to some of the foods from Elaan's wedding banquet.

"I hope you will indulge my curiosity a little, if it is permitted? I am so anxious to learn about Sakath and its history. I was about to ask you questions before we had our... misunderstanding... about the weaponry. We've taken care to study your planet's history, but there are egregious gaps in our knowledge. For example, the history depicted in that striking set of murals we saw when we first arrived. We know of the shameful trials you experienced under the thumb of tyranny and invasions from offworlders, and I recognized that in the mural. But some of the more recent events are unknown to me."

This time Kylah lets herself smile with rueful deprecation. "Of course I am very new to Starfleet and, coming from my own distant planet with its similarly troubled and protective nature, I'm not as informed as I ought to be in other worlds' histories. As I recall, your history consists of several dynastic eras. As I said we do know about the cruel invaders--and may I say, it grieves me that you've been through such turmoil, but perhaps it makes your ultimate rise and triumph--the "Heroic Leap to the Stars," I believe you call it--all the more inspiring." She tilts her head. "But could you tell me of the eras in between? This Second Dynasty, and how it fell? And the Age of Sorrows that followed?"

(Kylah covers her mouth as she hiccups, embarrassed. Perhaps the drink is not agreeing with her.)

Geb says wryly, "If you don't like the drink, Ensign, please don't force yourself to finish it." She looks at the ceiling for a moment. "Well, as I said, the murals you admired show the seven great eras of Sakathian history. The Dawn of Sakath is about our earliest prehistory, when our race evolved to its current form and the earliest civilization of city-states was founded. The Offworlder Invasions were a terrible time, of course, and are still remembered by our people with great sadness. The rise of the First Dynasty is the story of the wise and heroic rulers who helped establish much of our early governance and culture. Then there was a power struggle and an interregnum, and then the Second Dynasty was established, leading to what is now considered a golden age. The Second Dynasty fell too, though, to fratricidal war and plague, and followed by the Age of Sorrows, which is roughly comparable to Earth's Dark Ages. Much of what had been learned and built before then was forever lost. But in time came the Restoration and the Third Dynasty, some six hundred Sakathian years ago, and the Heroic Leap to the Stars, with the invention of warp drive and the spreading of the Sakathian people beyond our homeworld. Which brings us to today, does it not?"

yeah, well I know the best cure for that Jeremi smirks to herself. She gets another cup of tea, looks around the room, and approaches Pourtash's table. "Good morning, Mr Pourtash. What's your opinion of the mission so far?" She sits, holds the cup with both hands, and looks into the steaming liquid for a moment, then back at her colleague.

T'Var continues to eat her breakfast. She is enjoying it more with each bite she takes.

The doctor converses with several Sakathian scientists and technicians sitting at the table with her. T'Var is a good conversationalist -- despite the fact that Vulcans are considered quite reserved and at times a bit unsociable.

Pourtash says, "Considering all the problems we had coming aboard in the first place, I'd say not so bad. I hope we've had the last of our surprises as to how the Sakathians treat visitors, though."

T'Var and the Sakathians converse easily; some are a bit more talkative than others, as with any group of just-met individuals.

"Something tells me those surprises have only just begun." Collins sips her tea and looks around the room again. "What's your take on Geb and her body guard?" she asks the Lt Cmdr.