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EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

[Lt. Cmdr Vael Kaeris | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay]

It had been hours since their harrowing escape from the Azure Nebula and Vael had not yet gotten over the profound irony of the situation.  He and his fellow refugees had been all but tricked into boarding the renegade Theurgy, prompting him to bluff that he would initiate a chain reaction that would light up the nebula for light years, only to have that bluff called and not two days later, the interim commander of the vessel had sacrificed himself to do that very thing.  The vexing part of it was that Vael could not decide what part of the situation disgruntled him more.

There was, at least, a minor point of personal satisfaction.  As they had made their egress, his chaff stratagem had deployed and he had been able to monitor the lead cube's attempt to reach out to the armada that was on approach to no avail.  Still, it was unbecoming and unseemly to gloat, so he took quiet pleasure in a plan -- especially one conceived and deployed so hastily -- well done.

Once their wild ride had come to an end, he had asked to be excused from the bridge.  The overabundance of science staff made him feel claustrophobic, and that didn't even account for the inefficient deployment of resources.  While some might expect him to take time to rest, given the limited amount of sleep he had secured since his arrival, he instead made his way to sickbay to offer his medical skills in tending to those injured in the battle and to those recently rescued from the so-called Vigilants of Sa.  On some level, he wished to take the opportunity to meet with his former Endeavour crewmates that he had thought lost during their initial encounter with the Borg, bust mostly it was for him -- an opportunity to unwind and lose himself in his training.

Commander Ducote had been reunited with Lt. Commander Tiran.  This gave him perhaps a little more happiness than it should have, given the frequent "Blue alerts" that occurred on the Endeavour.  He was a good man and it pained Vael to seem him so lost without her and, her rough exterior aside, Vael was glad that Lt. Cmdr. Tiran had someone with whom she could be herself.

Stepping over to one of the biobeds, he reviewed the medical chart.  In many ways, it was not overly dissimilar from the other reports he'd reviewed of those who had escaped the Savi, regardless of which ship they'd come from -- hybrids of two species now genetically... purified?  It was a minor matter.  Genetic surgery was unheard of, and the crew had managed to come away with an artificial lifeform specifically designed to undo the less-than-tender ministrations of Savi.  While he appreciated the underlying craft, he was simultaneously offended at their presumptive gall.

This one, however, presented an issue quite unlike the others.  While some of the reversions were, in fact, already underway, this particular patient would not have a similar opportunity.

Reaching his hand into the pocket of his coat, Vael retrieved a small hypospray and set it against the subject's neck...


[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay]

Slowly, he stirred, eyes rolling slightly behind his lids as the hypospray slowly left his neck.  He could feel another presence there, unfamiliar, to a degree, shielded it seemed from his ziirgah, but beyond, the former sense of chaos and tension had melted away to one of routine and support.  The spikes of panic that had hammered against his senses no longer assailed him.

Opening his eyes, he narrowed them almost immediately at the doctor who stood over him, his hair arranged in a curious display that seemed as imperious as it was impractical.  He sat up, looking around, piecing together his gap in consciousness.  "How...?"

"Mister... Deacon?  I'm Lt. Commander Kaeris," the doctor began, casting a momentary glance down at the PADD in his hand.  "I apologize but it appears that the medical staff felt it necessary to have you sedated earlier.  Your behavior was noted as... predatory."  The man raised an eyebrow, cocking his head slightly as he spoke, casting his own silent inquiry behind his words.  Of course, the term was likely accurate.  He'd locked his mind down to the most rudimentary of functions to keep himself focused, not allowing himself the opportunity of introspection, reflection or civility.  Only one concern had dominated his mind...

He reached out, grabbing firmly to the doctor's wrist.  "K'Ren?"

The doctor regarded his hand for a moment before replying.  "Yes, you arrived with Ensign K'Ren.  She was taken to surgery although it appears that she is currently in isolation in recovery."  He carefully pried Deacon's fingers from his wrist, although his expression gave no hint of irritation, instead cloaked as it was in nothing beyond utility.

"How is she?"

"Recovering.  I cannot disclose anything more than that, I'm afraid, to protect Ensign K'Ren's medical confidentiality."

Again, he gripped tightly to the doctor's wrist, his teeth bared instinctively, eyes flashing gold.  "She is my wife," he said, each word punctuated with a growl.

"Mr. Deacon," he began calmly, again prying the fingers away from his wrist, but his gaze firmly affixed on Deacon's face, "if you cannot control yourself, I will need to have you restrained and possibly sedated again."  With a tilt of his head, he quirked his gaze as if to ask if he understood his meaning.

A sinking settled in his gut.  He could not allow himself to be so contained, not when they'd finally made it home, not when K'Ren needed him.  Failing now would destroy any trust the captain might have in him.  Carefully, he released his grip, returning his hand to his own lap, taking a deep breath.  "No.. that.. won't be necessary," he replied, lowering his gaze slightly.  "But she is my wife.  We were... it... was a private ceremony that we repeated on the Versant.  Commander Nerina officiated."

The doctor's expression shifted subtly, his mouth opening part way before he finally found the words to fill it.  "I'm sorry, but Commander Nerina did not survive."

"Uh... a Caitian counselor... R'Rori... she was..."

Again, the doctor's expression was disappointing as he shook his head.  "She suffered a catastrophic wound during the escape.  She's currently in stasis until we're able to better care for her."  Taking a deep breath, he continued, "However, I am familiar with Lt. R'Rori, and it would be rather in character for her to officiate a wedding under such dire circumstances."  He considered for a moment.  "I will make allowances for you to see Ensign K'Ren.  If she is able to corroborate your statements, then I will see about updating your marital status accordingly and submit it for Captain Ives' review."

Deacon gave a sigh of relief, eager to be away from yet another biobed and tending to his love.  Since first stepping foot aboard this ship, he'd find himself subject to the medical disciplines entirely too frequently for his taste and he was growing increasingly wary of his location.  He moved to rise, only to find a hand raised to forestall his departure.

"A moment.  I need to discuss your medical status, first," Kaeris said.

Rolling his eyes, he shifted back onto the biobed, a hint of irritable frustration playing across his face.  "I'm fine.  I wish to se...."

"You are most decidedly not fine, Mr. Deacon," the doctor said, any pretense of bedside manner momentarily set aside for blunt truth.  "According to your medical records, you underwent genetic reassignment as a child on the kzinti homeworld.  That reassignment resulted in a significant amount of damage to your underlying template such that when you came aboard, you contracted a virus that necessitated reversion to your hybrid state."

"Yes, I'm aware."

The doctor continued, unabated.  "The end result of that reversion was that you required several courses of immunotherapy in order to stabilize your genetic code and that further corrections would be all but impossible in the immediate future -- a condition that the... Savi... gave no consideration."

Deacon's lips tightened, paling considerably as he listened.

"Mr. Deacon, I need to schedule you for genetic reconstruction within the next few hours.  Your body is dying.  If we don't find away to stabilize the code, you will suffer rejection syndrome to the point of complete organ failure.  Had the completed their work on you, this likely wouldn't be an issue, but your escape left your conversion in an unfinished and unsustainable state."

"Then... then change me back," Deacon said, as if his suggestion was the only sensible option -- one that should have been patently obvious to even a Pakled physician.

"I'm afraid that... isn't an option.  As I said, much of your genetic code is damaged beyond repair at this point.  What you are is... regrettably... as good as it gets at this point.  I will schedule the surgery while you meet with ...your wife," he said, stepping aside and motioning for Deacon to follow.

Numbness seemed to swallow him as he walked, as he scarcely acknowledged the activities around him, moving out of the way of those would crossed his path at the last possible moment.  Was he stuck this way?  With a monkey's face?  A monkey's form?  He'd never be able to go home now... even as a half breed, his options were limited, but remained options, but a human among kzinti?

He stood before the door that lead to K'Ren's recovery room.  The doctor gave him a sharp tap on the arm and pointed from his eyes to Deacon's.  "I need you focused, Mr. Deacon.  Ensign K'Ren is recovering and needs encouragement to facilitate that.  We will take care good care of you and good care of her, but I need you here and now.  Understood?"

"Y... yes."

And the door opened...

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #1
[ K'Ren | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay ] Attn: @steelphoenix
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She wasn't sure how long she was out, but the usual feeling like she'd slept for days pervaded her senses as she slowly regained consciousness. Her mind was still foggy, though she could feel her mate nearby, a little ball of agitation in her drugged state of consciousness. Blinking, her eyes still hurt a little from the brightness of the recovery room, and she softly mewled, the sound of her own voice calming as she slipped in and out, her body breaking down the drugs in her system.

The pain at least was gone, and K'Ren could comfortably look around, her ears kinda floppy but working. When the door swished open, she turned her head, seeing a doctor standing beside the man she wanted to see most, her mate, the one man in the world she felt truly intimate with.

"Deacon," she said softly, "Mate."

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #2
[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay]

"Mr. Deacon wished to check on you, ensign.  He had mentioned that the two of you had been married in a private ceremony," Dr. Kaeris stated, motioning to stand between Deacon and his mate as if by will alone he might seem some sort of obstacle.

"He is my tznrrow, my mate." **

"But not your husband?" he inquired, hand poised over his PADD.

A low growl escaped Deacon's lips as he hovered dangerously over the doctor's shoulder.  "Husband, wife, damn monkey terms."

Holding up a hand, the doctor regarded Deacon dispassionately.  "A joke, Mr. Deacon.  I am familiar with Caitian customs in this regard.  I will submit corrections to your personnel records for the Captain's review."  He turned to step into the hallway, pausing momentarily to add, "Don't take too long.  She needs her rest."

With that, the door closed and Deacon moved quickly to her bedside, wrapping one hand around hers, softly tracing the other along her cheek.  "They haven't said anything.  Something about medical privacy regulations."  Placing his forehead to hers he kissed her lightly on the lips, afraid that somehow, anything more intense might in some way harm her further.  "H... how are you?"

----
** K'Ren's dialogue courtesy of SummerDawn

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #3
[ K'Ren | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay ] Attn: @steelphoenix
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K'Ren had wanted to respond to the doctor, his sense of humor was getting between her and her mate, but with the drugs still in her system anything beyond simple responses was pretty much out of the question. She at least could say something when Deacon came up beside her, a hand holding her paw, another gently stroking her face. When he asked her how she was, K'Ren wasn't sure how to respond to him. That simple question had so many answers, so many conflicted emotions wound up in K'Ren's mind. But the ones that seemed to bubble to the surface were pain, pain at the loss of their cub, relief for being here, safe on the ship, regret, regret for not doing more, more to protect them, to protect her cub.

She looked up at him, a tear welling in her eye, "I am sorry tzznrow. I was not strong enough, I couldn't protect us, couldn't protect our cub. We are safe but I feel so empty, a part of us is lost."

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #4
[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @SummerDawn , etc

Among kzinti, there was considerably less sentimentality when it came to familial ties.  Males with breeding rites could claim as many females as they could reasonably support.  It was not so much a matter of affection or devotion, but personal pride.  Failure to properly support such obligations was a poor reflection on their straakh and jeopardized their standing among their peers, but the pain that dug into Deacon's heart at K'Ren's words was far deeper than any concern for his perceived honor, reflective more of his human ancestry than he would care to admit.

And still, the kzinti side of him resented the perception of weakness, the failure to provide for his mate -- for his line -- the uncertainty of his rite to breed once more surfacing.  But insecurity was not the only voice that echoed at the back of his thoughts, the memory of the doctor's words resounding loudly with the realization that he may never again successful breed in the first place.  While their first mating had followed on the heels of his first reversion surgery, what he'd seeded her with may have been some stable hold-over from before his time in sickbay.  Now... now he could only see twisted images of...

He shook his head, as much to dispel the thoughts that were threatening to overflow as to assuage K'Ren's guilt.  The fault wasn't hers, as far as he was concerned, but his, and yet to say such a thing might well seem trite... dismissive.

"I.. still have you," he said, his voice catching in his throat along with his breath. 

Behind the doubt, the lingering fear that his line would end with him, there was still the burning embers of his rage.

"W... we'll try again," he said, finding some level of willful defiance in the lingering coals that remained in the pit of his stomach.  Lifting his head to gaze into her eyes, doing his utmost to convey some level of reassurance, even going so far as to attempt a human-like smile, he continued, "The Fanged God never challenges us beyond our ability to persevere."

Slowly, gently, he placed his hand over womb.  "With a mother this strong, how can our children be anything less than spectacular."  And still the lingering doubt came -- that any deficit for the future may well come from him.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #5
[ K'Ren | Bridge Module | The Versant ] Attn: @steelphoenix All
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"We have each other," she repeated back to him, taking solace in the fact that the man she loved, her bond mate, was alive and at her side. They could mourn the cub together, and in time perhaps when her heat came around again, they could try. Those were his exact words, almost as if he was reading her mind, sensing her thoughts. Bond mates could often do that, read each others minds and feelings, though it typically happened at an unconscious level.

"We'll try again mate," she said, giving his hand a weak squeeze, "The goddess blessed us with a cub, she will do so again." She looked up to him, seeing fear and anger in his eyes, determination mixed in there as well. She could also sense guilt, and something she couldn't pin, something he was trying to hide from her.

She was distracted though, as he laid his hand on her belly, resting above her womb. His touch was welcome, her species were very tactile and enjoyed touch, especially close touch from a mate or close relative. The gesture though, of his hand resting where their cub once lay, was reassuring even as he said that she was strong, and would make good cubs. "They will have a strong sire, strong of character and will." she said back, trying to reassure him.

And again she could feel that sense of guilt and doubt, and a pervasive sense he was afraid to tell her something. "Mate?" she saked, "What is wrong?"

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #6
[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @SummerDawn , etc

Were they still capable, his ears would have folded backwards.  Somehow, even through the sedatives and pain killers, she could read him -- this damnable human face, he assumed, being unfamiliar with cloaking his emotions behind its un-furred features.  Her inquiry hung in the air perhaps a moment longer than comfortable as he considered his options.  Lying as abhorrent to his faith, leaving silence as his one defense against disclosure, but somehow she had seen past that particular talent.

Of course, he could disclose any of the many things that disturbed him on a daily basis and maintain the truth his god demanded of his clergy, but they all seemed trite here, now, and a weak and paper-thin distraction.

Again, the doctor's words chimed his memories.  He needed him to keep her spirits uplifted, but the truth could threaten that recovery.

His mouth hung open for a moment, his eyes eager to focus on anything else.  It was a tactic that, even in their short time together, was obvious -- what humans would call a "tell" -- that he wished nothing more than to avoid speaking on something he found uncomfortable.  But he suffered that pain alone, and it ate at him and there was no one else who might understand.  He didn't want to be alone.

"The... the doctor says that I need to... go into surgery."  His eyes fixed on hers once more, the comforting blue subsumed by gold once more, but his expression, through no small amount of will, remained composed, benign.  "After so much genetic... tampering... he was..." he took a breath, searching for the words to disclosed the darkness that preoccupied him in as gentle a form as possible, "concerned that I may have to stay as I am."

And then another doubt, another dark thought drew itself from the depths of his worries.  Would K'Ren reject him?  He found her beautiful no matter her face -- appearance was superficial, but he couldn't think of his own as anything less than acceptable.  And with that dread, the gold of his eyes seemed to melt away to blue once more. 

"But... I don't want you to worry," he amended, shaking his head.  "I want you to focus on your recovery."  Then he paused.  No.  That was false at its base, at least in part, and the truth came out in the tears that burned his cheek, his features twisting slightly.  "That was a lie," he whispered.  "I'm... I'm afraid that I'm losing myself piece by piece since leaving homeworld.  It was one thing to be regressed to my hybrid state.... but now..."

He clutched her hand tightly.  "I don't want to lose you... and I... don't want to lose me either."  A distinctly un-kzinti confession, to speak of inadequacies and fear to a female, even one's mate, but he was beyond exhausted, his stoicism stretched, his senses still unreliable. 

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #7
[ K'Ren | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay ] Attn: @steelphoenix All
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K'Ren could tell that Deacon was hiding something, but she also knew that he would come clean. Not that she was in any real shape to extract the turth from him, or that she wanted to have to, she preferred it when he was honest with her, intimacy was maintained when you were honest with your partner. So it was no suprise when he spoke, telling her the truth.

As he told her that he had to have surgery, that between the surgery when he came aboard, and the Savi tampering with his genetics, he might be stuck in his human form. K'Ren by contrast still had the choice, though it would be a while before she was well enough to undergo the surgery.

Of course, now that she knew Deacon couldn't be changed back, she doubted she wanted to be changed back herself. In his human form and her Caitian form they were still very compatible genetically, they could easily have cubs together. "Tzznrow. A life bond is nothing to throw away. While I wish that they could restore the Deacon I feel in love with, I love you no matter what. I will worry, that is what mates do, but when you come through surgery, we will lie here together, recovering from the trauma the Savi wrought upon us. If they cannot return you back, I will remain changed, I will not take a liberty with my body you can't also take." She gave his hand a squeeze, "Do what you must to come back to me mate. Fight. Fight for us, fight for our future cubs."

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #8
[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Steelphoenix
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She saw flashed of explosions around her, the Borg, violence, blood, pain. The grip of fear made her sick to her stomach and she wanted to retch, but she couldn't, she'd already emptied the contents of her stomach earlier. More Borg, more explosions, everything was happening so quickly. Where was Jien? What happened to Cinn? Where was Natalie? The ship was spinning around her, or she was the one spinning out of control. Voices, noises, more pain, her head wanted to split, or perhaps it had split open. Was she dying? Was this what it felt like to die? Was she assimilated? No she had coherent thought...to an extent. Maybe she was in the process of being assimilated. No, she was thrown...

Cam's eyes slowly opened. She was lying on something soft. A bed?

She groaned when she realized she was wounded and probably knocked unconscious. How long was she out? She didn't want to move. Everything hurt. But her head more than anything was the source of the most pain. It had to be the head.

Her throat felt dry, and she felt cold. “H-h...llo?” said Cam weakly, her voice sounding hoarse and weak.

She tried lifting one arm, it didn't hurt too much to do that, but her head filled with a new throb and she felt a ringing in her brain. “H-h-he-lp...me...s'm-one...” she really needed some water, and tried, very carefully, and very slowly to sit up.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #9
[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @SummerDawn

A twinge of guilt traced along the edge of his spine, settling as another spoonful of cement in his stomach.  Bad enough that he should distract her from her own recovery, but to decide not to undergo her own corrective surgery because he could not. 

Taking a deep breath, he traced the tips of his fingers along the line of her cheek and jaw.  "I.. you shouldn't have to..."  The words were a jumble in his mouth, awkwardly attempting to simultaneously express his appreciation for her offer as much as assure her that such sacrifices were unnecessary.  Maybe she was still under some level of sedation -- he couldn't possibly hold her to such a commitment when she may not be lucid enough to consider the ramifications of her choice.

Shaking his head, he finally managed to weave the syntax of his thoughts into words.  "You don't have to do that," he assured, again placing his forehead to hers.  "But you honor me that you would consider it.  Whatsoever face you wear, you are my K'Ren, and I will cherish you no less.  The Savi have cost us greatly."  He kissed the bridge of her nose.  "I will not ask you to wear the scars of their handiwork."



[Lt. Cmdr Vael Kaeris | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @Triage 

A man approached, the blue of his uniform nearly obscured by the soft white coat that he wore.  His long black hair was arranged neatly, almost ornately, in such a way as it was hard to tell that it was of any appreciable length beyond the nape of his neck.

Reviewing the screen beside the bed, he gave a slight nod before turning his dark eyes towards her.  "Welcome back, ensign," he said before leaning forward, tracing a medical tricorder along her brow.  "Blood pressure appears a touch depressed and there is some residual bruising, but it appears that you have recovered from your concussion.  But I'd rather be certain before releasing you from care.  Are you experiencing any visual or auditory anomalies?  Any pain?  Strange tastes or smells?"

--
ooc - Cameron might remember him as one of the Endeavour crew who had been on the bridge during the BotA.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #10
[ K'Ren | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay ] Attn: @steelphoenix All
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K'Ren purred as he ran his finger along her jaw line. She still held onto his hand with one paw, and gave it another gentle squeeze as he spoke. She could feel his emotions, the feelings of appreciation, but also disappointment she would make such a choice. She could appreciate his concern for her well-being, his desire for her not to make a life altering decision without considering the ramifications of her choice. She would think it through once the drugs were free of her system, but she doubted her mind would change.

When he finished speaking, ending with a kiss on the bridge of her nose, K'Ren knew it was her turn to speak. She took his hand, already in one, and took it in both her hands. "I will give it a proper thought when I am recovered from the drugs in my system, however I doubt my mind will be changed." She moved his hand to her abdomen, "The Savi have cost us greatly, a cub we never knew we had together. I will always carry the scars of their violation, some in my heart that remain hidden except between us. The face I chose will be how I wish to be seen, I will always be K'Ren." She smiled a little, "Between us I wish to remain Caitian because my body will have the best chance of cubs when we are ready to try again." She took his hands, pulling them close to her face where she nuzzled them, "I will explain when we are recovering, but my father's genetics caused some problems when I desired to have cubs with my first mate. I do not wish those problems again."

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #11
[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Steelphoenix
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The attending physician that came to see her was vaguely familiar. One of the Endeavour's people perhaps. His analysis was surprisingly mild in comparison to how she felt. Her head wanted to explode, and her neck was screaming in protest no matter how she positioned her head. She distantly remembered landing on her head before passing out. “I landed on my head,” said Cam, “I think I almost...hnn...broke my neck.”

She also felt horridly parched, and she wanted to get going. Jien...Jien Ives! He was alive, and well...well enough. She had to see him.

“I'm parched...may I have...some water, please?”

She would have gotten up to get it herself if she didn't feel like the effort would send her sprawling to the floor and exacerbate injuries. “Captain Ives...th-the crew who were taken aboard the Versant...?” she sort of asked the man, “...they're okay?”

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #12
[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @SummerDawn

He squeezed her hands gently, his mind still a turmoil, his forced sedation from earlier having done little to offset his fatigue, the various waves of emotion that seemed to permeate sickbay pressing against the edges of his mind.  If this was to be his new normal, he wondered if he would have to live his life in relative isolation or risk madness in time.  It wasn't a thought he relished -- neither aspect, truth be told.  A Black Priest unable to serve the Patriarch and, by extension, the Pride, was worthless -- less than worthless.  In a society where the sanctity of the Black Priesthood was not honored, he could not rely on the history of service his station and training brought.  He had to be proactive beyond any other.  It was not enough to simply be useful, he had to excel in all things, to become invaluable, indispensable.

His blue eyes locked with K'Ren's, a cock-sided grin tugging at one cheek.  "Do not think I've given them the last say in that regard.  Once you've recovered, we will have plenty of opportunity to mock their 'code' with our progeny."

The statement was backed by his kzinti indignation as much as his human sense of amusement, but there was truth in his words, and optimism, and a sense of relief, both that K'Ren had no intent to rid herself of him and that he had some confidence that he would come through his own surgery one way or another even as a faint twinge of nausea asserted itself in his gut, a momentary vertigo causing him to stagger until he braced himself against the side of the biobed.




[Lt. Cmdr Vael Kaeris | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @Triage 

Stepping to the nearby replicator console, Vael produced a glass of cool water, carefully ensuring that Cameron's grip was steady enough to take hold of it herself.  "Your neck may be a little sore but there was no lasting harm.  Your cervical vertebrae are all intact and the inter-vertebral discs are non-displaced and there are no ruptures.  Not a bad outcome all things considered."

As she drank, he continued, "If the pain is troublesome, I can prescribe some painkillers for now and Dr. Kobol  or one of the other regular physicians can recommend a regimen of physical therapy, but there should be no reason you cannot return to your regular duty shift in the morning."

"Captain Ives...th-the crew who were taken aboard the Versant...?  ...they're okay?"

He paused, taking a deep breath, casting his gaze around the sickbay.  "The crew that were taken aboard the Versant have, for the most part, been returned.  Captain Ives was among them.  It appears that they were forced to undergo some sort of genetic procedure intended to purify their hybrid states in favor of one of their progenitor's races.  Many are currently undergoing reversion therapy.  Many, I expect, will need further counseling even after their surgeries are complete.  But, they are here and considerably safer than they have been."

He rubbed his chin for a moment.  "Captain Ives, being a Chameloid, appears to have been spared the more physically invasive procedures the others endured.  I believe he is currently on the bridge getting briefed on what has transpired here in his absence."

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #13
[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Steelphoenix
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She was grateful for the water and murmured her thanks as he finished his prognosis, and then informed her of what she had missed while she'd been unconscious. She was unimaginably glad to know that the captain was more or less all right, and even on duty. But she could not believe that he was as unscathed as the man implied.

“H-have to go see him,” she said, and slowly tried to get up. She was weak, and her head still felt like a cleaver was prising it open, but the nearly manic determination in her eyes said she wasn't going to be easily deterred. “Need to speak to him. Important...”

Her words were disjointed, almost as if she were questioning or thinking up the excuse on the spot and it was taking effort to do so, which in point of fact, it was. The compound fracture needed time to properly repair, and she wouldn't be able to do that on the go, unless, “D-do you have something...I can perhaps wear? To finish the healing?”

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #14
[ K'Ren | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay ] Attn: @steelphoenix All
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K'Ren could feel her mate's fatigue, in part through the link they shared, in part through his body language. He'd said he had to go into surgery, and she suspected the fatigue was his body forcing the issue. She wanted him to stay with her as she lay in recovery, but she knew he needed to make his own recovery and she couldn't hold him. At least the link would let her feel him once he regained conciouness. She looked up into his eyes, blinking a little, ears relaxed. "Neither of us have had the last say mate." She purred a little as the next words came from her lips. "We will defy their code, I promise that. When we can leave the madness, I wish to settle down quietly and raise as many litters as you wish to give your Kzinrett."

She placed her paw over his where it rest on her stomach. "I will be waiting for you Deacon. Go have your surgery, I will remain at your side while you recover, your claws while you recover from the ordeal."

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #15
[Deacon | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @SummerDawn

There was aught else to say.  He placed his brow to hers, rubbing his thumb against the soft fur of her cheek.  "On the other side then," he whispered, a faint trepidation in his voice but enough confidence to step forward into the unknown, confident that his K'Ren awaited.  Slowly, he rose and turned towards the door.  "You should rest," he offered with a look over his shoulder, one hand dimming the lights slightly as he stepped out into the hallway.  "Good night."


[Lt. Cmdr Vael Kaeris | USS Theurgy | Vector 02, Deck 11 | Main Sickbay] Attn: @Triage 

The ensign seemed rather agitated given her circumstance, her attention seemingly drawn to her arm as she fidgeted, her intent to leave manifesting more readily that Vael had a comfort for.  "Your arm had suffered a compound fracture," he clarified, hoping that further details of the extend of her wound might in some way settle her restless spirit.  "It appears that the bone was reset and the fracture stabilized and the resulting flesh wound was tended with a dermal regenerator.  It was a routine repair without complication although there may be some residual tenderness."

"D-do you have something...I can perhaps wear? To finish the healing?"

Vael exhaled deeply, an obvious sign of disapproval that he knew would have no impact, and still it was a necessary demonstration.  Ensign Henshaw, to whatever end, seemed determined to liberate herself from her convalescence come hell or high water, and given the levels of both that he'd seen in only the last few days, he found it preferable to allow her this taste of willfulness.

Persing his lips, his expression changed, releasing the feigned semblance of a bedside manner that he maintained while working in sickbay to his more customary no nonsense countenance.  "It is clear that short of my employing restraints to keep you here, you intend to convalesce elsewhere.  Under the circumstance, we lack the resources to enforce your compliance with care. If it is your intent to see the captain, I can only hope that he will order your prompt return to care."  Regarding the PADD in his hand, he tapped out a few lines into his medical report.  "You are relieved of duty until your next duty shift tomorrow, ensign.  I cannot forbid you from marching headlong to the bridge, but I can at least keep you from that much.  I trust once you've seen the captain that you will return to your quarters for some much needed rest.  What remains of your healing will require time, not a change in attire."

With that, he gave her a stern nod and held out his arm to indicate leave to depart.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1400] The Walking Wounded

Reply #16
[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Steelphoenix
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Cameron would have felt more ashamed of her behaviour under the admonishing look of the man if she were less agitated or desperate to see Jien Ives. But as she wasn't, she barely registered the look or the feelings that were clearly expressed and focused more on what he had to say in regards to her request to be released from the sickbay. She was supposed to be the calm, cool and collected one, but her nerves had been frayed one time too many, her losses left ungrieved, and the tension of being on high alert 24/7 was taking its full toll on her. A suicidal disregard for her well being had firmly set in her. Sooner or later, death came for them all anyway, why cry over it?

She frowned at being relieved of duty, but when she felt the lightheaded dizzyness, she decided not to argue the point.

The main focus now was to get past the doors out of sight of this man and not stumble or collapse. That's a good, easy enough goal to concentrate on. Then get to Jien Ives. She didn't thank the man, but she nodded slowly, slid off the bed, and got fitted with the protective skull cap and some sort of bodysuit made to observe her vitals and apply emergency first aid if necessary. From there, she walked slowly, and carefully, but resolutely. As soon as she was out of sight with the door hissing shut behind her, she picked up the pace, making her way to the nearest turbolift to the bridge.


Fin for Cameron

 
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