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Day 02 [1030 hrs.] Once Upon a Time, I Dreamt I Was a Butterfly...

Day 02 [1030 hrs.] Once Upon a Time, I Dreamt I Was a Butterfly...

[ Deacon | Below Decks Proprietor's Quarters | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Dr. Nicander, medical personnel

Deacon awoke to a pounding ache in his head -- a sensation he'd certainly experienced in times past but not with such intensity as today's.  After an exhausting night tending to the seemingly endless supply of walking wounded that had wandered into Below Decks after the ship's avatar had given it over to his care, he'd finally managed to seek some much needed sleep in the small quarters set aside for the proprietor.  Truth be told, when first he'd seen it, he was convinced it was intended to be little more than an office or perhaps additional storage, but a bed had been placed into the corner, possibly for mid-shift rest, and he was far to thankful for this small gift to question the other accouterments with any effort.

His hand had remained numb for much of the night -- a point of growing concern that, if it did not resolve by morning, would require his attention, but was otherwise trivial in the light of his fatigue.  The day had unfolded wholly in a direction he least expected, and he had found himself nearly atomized escaping the starbase where he'd sought asylum in the first place.  Now, he was tucked away in a deadly nebula field on a ship filed with purported traitors and saboteurs.  There was a an ironic sense of symmetry that a defector and traitor to his people would find his way into their midst.  The Fanged God was fond of placing those where they most belonged.

He had to admit, it would take some concerted will to become accustomed to the humans and their manner of business.  They seemed to act without regard to straakh and sometimes without regard to those around them.  Deacon frowned.  What was the time?  He had intended to inspect the pantry this morning to set out a proper morning meal, but the pounding in his head told him that such good intentions would not be met with the most eager of response.  He opened one eye to the dark room, turning slightly to regard the small clock beside the bed only to find the numbers glaring at him with all the intensity of the sun.  A wave of nausea swept through him, prompting a gag reflex as he clamped his eyes shut tightly.

Groaning, he slowly righted his head.  He reached up to massage his brow, or rather such was his intent, but nothing seemed to answer.  His hands... he couldn't feel either one.  In fact, much of his body had fallen numb -- not merely dulled, but numb, his limbs silent and nigh immobile.  He could feel his hearts racing, a sense of panic setting in, the throbbing agony in his head growing more intense by the second. 

Had he been poisoned?  Had they decided to wait until he was asleep to end him?  Did they mean to deny him an honorable death, unable to move and unable to feel?  No, no... he was being irrational.  Who would kill him?  Why?  Had he not served as he'd been instructed?  Had he not helped the Andorian?  Had he not brought them word of his people's plans against their Federation?

He struggled, his leaden limbs giving only the barest of effort as he propped himself up on his elbows.  "C... computer..." he said, fighting past the vertigo that was as intent on laying him flat as he was to sit.  His arms and legs were heavily swollen, the sudden jarring causing blood to stain the bed clothes from his distended claws.

The customary beep of the computer thundered in his ears. 

"Med... medical... emer... emergency..." The words hid behind the veil of pain in his head and the dryness of his throat. 

"Need..." his arms gave way, dropping him back against the bed with a thud, his head cracking solidly against the edge with the shift in balance.  "... help..."  His throbbing skull played out an aggressive march into the darkness as a mounting sense of dread consumed him at the thought of being helpless at the grips of monkey medicine...


Re: Chapter 22: Once Upon a Time, I Dreamt I Was a Butterfly... | Day 02 [1030 hrs.]

Reply #1
[ Theurgy "Thea" NX-79854 | Lounge Proprietor's Quarters | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Steelphoenix
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When prompted, Thea's digital mind determined the message despite the strain in his speech and the difficulty to derive the words. A normal Federation starship would not have been able to acknowledge the sounds made, but Thea derived their meaning.

The single, discrete holoemitter in the ceiling activated, and in a few seconds, Thea materialised next to the Kzin's bed - wearing her teal chameleon bodysuit. Since her mobile emitter was still not repaired, she relied on her hologrid, and it would have to suffice. For the task at hand, however, she wasn't properly equipped either way she'd been projected. The scans of her internal sensors quickly determined how the life-sign of the Kzin was fading, and she had no means available to do anything about it. Her emotion chip fed her with alarm, and yet she acted on her protocols nonetheless.

"Attention Main Sickbay," she said as she quickly went to the felnoid's side, picking up one of his paws and taking his pulse. It was barely felt in his wrist. What she said was heard on the intercom in the medical bay, her speech relayed there through her own systems. Clearly, the Kzin was a victim of the outbreak that had been spreading through her decks during the night. "Medical emergency. Patient incoming with low pulse and fading life-signs. Please stand by while a site-to-site transport is issued to Isolation Ward 01. Energising in five, four, three, two, one..."

While she counted down, she took the Kzin's hand into his own, and she tried to look into his eyes. "Energising," she said to him as much as the medical staff within the quarantine, but her next words were for him alone, spoken while he was enveloped by the transporter field. "You will be okay. We got you..."

Then, the Kzin was gone, and while Thea remained by the bed, she knew that there were medical personnel coming to him where he lay on a biobed. Slowly, she stood up, and deactivated the emitter in the ceiling, making her vanish from the proprietor's quarters. Her unrelated thought was how she missed her mobile emitter, and with Lin Kae on the verge of death, who could she ask to have it repaired?

Re: Chapter 22: Once Upon a Time, I Dreamt I Was a Butterfly... | Day 02 [1030 hrs.]

Reply #2
[ Deacon | Main Sickbay (Isolation Room) | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan

No sooner had the transporter completed its cycle depositing the stricken kzin on the isolation ward biobed, another form shimmered into existence, this one bald with a stern expression and set jaw.  "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," he blurted by way of greeting before his eyes came to rest on his would be patient.  "What is this?  I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian," the EMH protested, stepping up to the biobed and unfolding a tricorder to take some readings.  "I wasn't even aware we had a kzinti on board."

Deacon struggled to open an eye, to speak, but nothing wanted to respond, his body felt heavy, alien, constricting, beset by agonizing pain and terrifying numbness all at once.

"Imaging shows multiple acute myocardial infarctions in both circulatory systems, protocardial fatigue, wildly fluctuating blood pressure resulting in internal bleeding, hematomas, external lesions.  I'm detecting signs of the same unknown virus but his reaction appears to be extreme to say the least," the EMH began reciting, more for the medical -- or potentially coroner's -- record than for his own benefit.  "I am attempting to stabilize the patient in the short term to bring the more radical symptoms under control."

The hologram turned to the table beside the biobed and retrieved a hypospray, preparing a compound of inaprovaline and benjisidrine, injecting both brachiocephalic veins to ensure the medication saturated the blood streams evenly.  He then placed a cortical simulator on the kzinti's brow and set to monitoring the more damaged areas to reduce the internal bleeding.

---

Deacon felt he'd been walking for hours in a misty haze that seemed to press in all around him, at once dark and light, providing no visibility, no sound, no sign of direction.  How had he found himself in this place?  When did he arrive?  Where was he going?  Why didn't he stop?

"Amara, guide this traveler as he ventures in dark places," he said reflexively, turning towards his faith to carry him forward when his legs threatened to buckle and his stamina wavered. 

Onward he strode, giving up any feigned effort at counting his footsteps, calculating the distance he might have traveled, but slowly, the mist gave way, unfolding, revealing a vast landscape untouched and primal.  He took a breath, feeling the aromas reach down into his lungs, revitalizing, alluring.  Above him, the golden sky glimmered with a brilliant warmth that bathed over him, dispelling the lingering chill of the mists.  Stretching out his arms, he turned his face upward, as if to embrace this new land.

But he knew he was not alone.  A presence stalked behind him, still out of sight, still hidden in the mist that refused to dispel completely, laying low. 

A sense of growing dread sunk into his stomach.  He knew this place, knew its meaning.  The Eternal Hunt, where all kzinti go when they die, to be forever predator... or prey.  He was being hunted.  He'd cast aside all straakh and abandoned his people and now he was dead and he was in hell. 

His pulse raced.  Should he run?  He was being hunted, of course he should run.  Blind panic began to consume him.  Everything was out of his control.  He would never be safe again, never know peace again.  He clutched at his chest.  The thing in the mists stirred, sensed his fear, sensed its opportunity.  It screamed and lunged forth from its shelter, a massive form of darkness against the grey.  "No... no... not this way," he said to himself as he dropped backwards, narrowly avoiding the claws as they strafed over him. 

"I am not prey.  I am not weak," he continued as he rolled over in the grasses, turning his own gaze on the shadowed mass that threatened him, his hands shifting across the ground, looking for something, anything.  The hunter lunged again, its massive form descending from above as Deacon dropped low, lifting a fallen branch upward and driving it into the creature's gut, allowing gravity to drive the death blow.  "I am the predator," he growled, "and I will not be consumed by you."

He climbed out from under, his pulse still racing, kicking over his attacker, allowing the golden sun to shine shine down on the black furred features of a kzinti, his own face.

"No..." the word caught in his throat.  If the beast was Deacon... then who was he?

 

Re: Chapter 23: Once Upon a Time, I Dreamt I Was a Butterfly... | Day 02 [1030 hrs.]

Reply #3
[ Dr. Nicander | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
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Thea had alerted Doctor Nicander about the medical emergency while he had still been overseeing the recovery of Petty Officer Song, and he'd been forced to deactivate the EMH in the Battle Sickbay and re-activate him in Isolation Ward 01 before he could go there himself. It had taken him virtually no time at all, had he not been stopped in the hallway by Nurse Maal, who had been concerned about Hylota Vojona and her clutch. Lucan had not wanted to brush the Klingon off completely, just telling him that his Ovri Head Nurse was going to be fine.

When he did enter the ward where Thea had beamed a patient to, he was pleased to see the EMH having taken the preliminary steps to save the... the Kzin's life. Lucan had no idea if the large felnoid on top of the biobed had come aboard from the Resolve, the Orcus or by some other strange means, but he was there, and he needed immediate treatment. Inclining his head to the EMH after he'd paused at the sight, he picked up the PADD that was docked to the diagnostic instruments and read the results of the EMH's readings as well as the transcript of what the hologram had said. It took him a couple of seconds to familiarise himself with readings since they belonged to a species he'd not had as a patient before, but he soon picked up just how dire the situation was.

"Good work, Doctor..." he said while he read, frowning, and the EMH actually smiled at his side.

"Thank you, Doctor, if I may say so myself, I-"

"Thea, deactivate EMH, and reactivate him in the upper battle sickbay again." He glanced up, saw the EMH's frosty look and spread his tattooed hands in helplessnes before he vanished "Sorry, but the patients there needs you. No time to talk."

Alone, Lucan looked down at the readings again. He was just about to put the PADD away...

...when something strange caught his eye. He frowned, and as he stared, he slowly raised his free hand and raked his fingers through his unkempt dark hair. He read the readings two more times, but in the end, it was clear he wasn't mistaken. He took a deep breath, the realisations coming to him one of after another, both pertaining to his condition and how he might be treated. He stepped to the biobed, slowly tapped in a few commands, and verified the readings the EMH had done, only in deeper detail. Essentially, they were the same, and there was no longer any question about it. Unless Kzin had an origin completely unknown to both them and humans, this would be no ordinary patient to treat.

Lucan closed his pale grey eyes for a moment in thought of what the reactions from the Devoted would be - such an errant thought but quite valid given recent events - and lowered the PADD to look at profile of the male Kzin. He could not help to think about what kind of life the patient might have led up until that point, and how he also might hate him when he came to. Oh, for Lucan had no illusions about what Junior Lieutenant Morali thought of him, and of Ives, but at least in this case...

No, who was he trying to convince? By the winds, what did it matter that he might be able to revert the DNA resequencing this time? This patient might not become something new, but something he'd used to be, but that did not matter the least, because the Kzin would still have let the changes be made to him for a reason. The dilemma was not so easily dismissed. Because of Morali, because of what the Phoenix Project had led to, and because of Lucan's own moral grounds on the matter. He had sworn that he would not preform such invasive treatment again, and yet there he was, with a patient who just barely fell within the means in which to treat him and save his life, and Lucan had to make the call.

He covered his eyes with his tattooed hand, and tried to rub them clear from fatigue. The winds tested him at every turn, but in the end, the call he had to make could not be based on his own quarrel with the Captain, nor the health or suffering of another patient. The health of the patient was Lucan's only priority, and if there was a way to save his life, and to grant him an offer to revert the results, then the dilemma was no more, and he had to proceed.

"Thea, begin medical log. The patient is - presently - a Kzinti, but in order to live... he has to become what he once were."

- FIN

 
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