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PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Two hours ago…

[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Jefferies Tube | Deck 25 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

Just one more pass, she decided, blue eyes laser focused on the panel in front of her. One more look through, one more minute adjustment, then it would be done. Perfect. For today at least. Today, when everything had to be perfect. Because today, it was finally happening. In T-6 hours, they were activating the slipstream drive.

Technically, the Theurgy had done this before. Technically, Azrin had even been on board. But she’s been unconscious, trapped in a status pod, unable to see the movement of stars outside a window, real time metrics lighting up consoles, feeling the vibrations of the hull beneath her feet. The greatest leap in starship propulsion since the first successful warp test, and Azrin Ryn had been taking a nap.

She was self-aware enough to admit that the knowledge had driven her slightly mad. Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough self-control to do anything about it. Which was what had brought her to this moment, deep in the ship in the middle of the night, fiddling with power conduits.

The trill engineer lived in a perpetual state of dishevelment, the natural result of a hands-on approach from someone who was completely at home crawling around the tubes, but tonight she looked wild, even by her standards. Her coveralls were rolled up past the elbow, and unzipped nearly to her waist to reveal a black undershirt beneath, all poor attempts at ventilation. The tie holding back her hair had lost its valiant battle some time ago, the bun now collapsed into a pile of red strands that stuck to her neck and face. Pale skin and orange fabric had picked up grime from at least five different systems. Her eyes were as bright as ever, but the delicate skin beneath was puffy and darkening. She looked tired. An adequate perception, as she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. A thermos of coffee was a permanent addition to her kit, and the replicator was always happy to refill it for her.

“Ah ha!” She exclaimed delightedly, as one minute turn of the spanner had lit up her tricorder in the most pleasing way. “That’s the one. Now onto the next conduit.” Azrin dropped the spanner and tricorder back into her toolbox, flipping the lid suit to lock it. Then she rolled over, dropping from her knees to lay on her back, tracing the route to the next power junction on the ceiling. “Down a deck, aft, five meters…” Unable to prevent it, her eyes flickered shut for a moment, her mind drifting away. Everything got colder then, half asleep and half awake. Sweat cooled on her skin, the metal grate of the floor but against her arms like ice, even the air warmed by her exertions leveled back out. In that moment, she was no longer in the jefferies tubes, but in another confined space, unable to move, everything frozen around her…

She was going to miss it again.

Azrin jerked back into consciousness, snapping back into sitting, only long trained habit keeping her from whacking her head on the ceiling. “Nope. None of that,” she muttered, pulling out her coffee for some long, deep gulps. “I slept for months thanks, got plenty of excess to carry me over.” Deep in her mind - or more like deep in her gut - memories of a life long past told her all the medical reasons why that argument was insane. Azrin ignored them, like she always did. Dayak Jeen would have approved.

Time to move, before the sleep monster found her again. Rolling back to her knees, Azrin started to crawl, letting the tube take her to a junction where three identical jefferies tubes met in a vertical shaft, a ladder offering paths up and down to other decks. This was Thea’s underworld, the whole ship connected without ever needing corridors or turbolifts. She opted for down, grabbing the rungs of the ladder and half climbing, half sliding on her way. She should have slowed down, but Azrin was comfortable here, filled with a confidence no amount of sleep deprivation could take away. Until time seemed to slip for a moment, and the next thing she knew her feet were falling off the ladder.

There was a moment of shock as the adrenaline kicked in, then she was more awake than she’d been in days. A flailing arm hooked a rung and locked on, stopping her descent with a smack as the rest of her hit the ladder. Twisted at an awkward angle and suddenly bearing all her weight, her shoulder exploded in pain. She screamed and nearly fell off again. It took a moment for her trembling legs and free arm to find their places, and even longer for her to start climbing, a painfully slow process to the next junction a meter or so below. Once safely back in a tube, she cradled her injured arm close and laid down again. She needed to call medical. This was a good place to wait until they came to collect her.

Another propulsion tech, alerted by the scream, found her a few minutes later, fast asleep, fingers a centimeter away from the combadge she’d never activated.


[ Nurse Kitty Ellison | Primary Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]

When they brought the injured engineer in, Nurse Ellison was on triage, clicking her tongue in slight tisks as the trill materialized on the biobed. The medics had opted to transport her rather than deal with the hassle of carrying her out of the tubes to a gurney.

The awkward tilt of her shoulder made that injury readily apparent, but the nurse set the biobed to a body scan for anything else below the surface. The chart showed that the medics had already administered a painkiller, but not one that would have knocked Ryn out. Brainwaves showed that the trill was simply sleeping. She wasn’t a quiet sleeper either, twitching here and there, muttering some kind of mathematical equation under her breath. Ellison debated a stasis field to keep her still, but decided to leave that for the doctor.

“Doctor Leux to the Primary Care Unit. You have a patient.”

OOC: She's doing warp field equations in her sleep, for people who are familiar with those :)

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #1
[LT Arven Leux | En Route to Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
The day had only just begun, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was going to be a long one. Unable to source this intuition, Leux did his best to ignore it as he walked the corridor, carefully reading from the PADD in one hand between upward glances to ensure he didn’t run into anyone and spill the steaming cup of coffee in the other. A dark brow quirked up as he scrolled through the genetic sequence data he’d taken from a patient the other day – a rather charismatic one, he remembered, even if the name of the Romulan couldn’t quite form in his brain. Interesting, Arven mused with an audible grunt, as he noted a familiar strand of codes to another patient’s sequence. Seems highly unlikely, but could be fun, his lip curled in a brief smirk. After filing that away for further investigation, he tapped a button and recalled the day’s itinerary instead. While the CMO had a staff meeting to look forward to, Leux resisted a sigh at the long list of diagnostics and inventories to supervise, just to start the day off right.

“Oh, good,” he muttered sarcastically before taking a sip of coffee, as the door to sickbay whispered open. He hadn’t slept well the night before (which hardly improved his disposition) yet had acquired enough rest to feel fit enough to perform his duties. Other than the small cut to the side of his chin, (the result of a rather irritating slip of focus while shaving, just a short while ago), Arven appeared much the same as he always did, physically at least: clad in a clean, standard duty uniform – calm and unperturbed; unhurried as he navigated to the medical officer duty station to check in.

He heard the droid coming then, and dark brows lifted as Arven froze and waited.

Oh my, Dr. Leux, good morning,” V-Nine greeted cheerfully over the drone of her servos as she approached.

Arven winced, but spun to face the Chief Surgeon with a small smile. “Morning V-Nine, what’s shaking?”

The droid laughed, tilting her cranial unit this way and that. “Oh, dear, what an amusing greeting,” V-Nine’s ocular light dimmed and glowed, giving the impression of a blink – or a wink – Arven could never really tell. “Ah, I took the liberty of collating all routine diagnostics just a few hours ago,” the droid bent forward a tad, lowering her voice several decibels as if sharing a secret, her tone slightly raised in an almost mischievous lilt. “I was bored, and I know how you...hmm...dislike that unfortunate expenditure of time and resources, so...I did it for you.” There was a very girlish giggle that followed, as she handled a PADD over to him.

Arven realized he was simply blinking in shock, which must have looked amusing to her, as he let her slide the PADD atop the one already in his grip. “Uh,” the Trill frowned, then raised his brows again and nodded. “Uh, you are correct, absolutely. My thanks, Vi,” he nodded again, then offered her his best approximation of an appreciative smile. “This is great, now I can review these soon as I -”

“Doctor Leux to Primary Care Unit, you have a patient,” a female voice broadcast over the Sickbay intercom.

Leux’ smile broadened. “...As soon as I sort that out. Thanks again, Vi,” he nodded to the droid, who returned the gesture with a tilt of her cranial unit before shuffling off. Arven rolled his shoulders as he went his own way, offering a nod as he raised his mug to the head nurse, Ensign Vojona – fresh out of recovery from his “Hows it hanging,” Arven greeted as he passed without even slowing down on his way to the PCU; far too energetic now that V-Nine had saved him from mindless diagnostics to notice the confused and slightly put-off expression the Ovri gave him.

[Primary Care Unit, a moment later]

The first thing he noticed was a peculiar smell upon entry; a burnt-hair, industrial reek mixed with sweat.  Violet hued eyes narrowed as Arven frowned, blinking at the nurse that hovered near the foot of biobed 2 – trying and failing to remember the brunette’s name. “Hey Wilson, what do we got,” he murmured quietly as he passed around her to set his PADD’s down on the small exam table adjacent to the patient, who twitched.

“Its Ellison, same as it was yesterday,” the nurse droned as she handed over the patient’s chart. “Anterior shoulder dislocation, minor bruising to extremities, standard pain treatment administered upon arrival. Patient is -”

The unconscious, red-headed Trill released a loud snore, followed by incoherent muttering.

“Asleep,” Ellison chuckled.

Arven’s eyes read over the vitals on the patient’s chart, a dark brow cocked. “You don’t say,” he deadpanned, then looked over the patient quickly. The shoes she wore were scuffed, the bottom coated in slippery residue. Her knees were dirty and nearly frayed from crawling around somewhere, but the dirt and grime stuck to her coveralls provided few definitive answers. He frowned at the state of her, especially the obvious signs of extreme fatigue on her otherwise attractive features. “Seems a bit worse for wear, don’t you think? Maybe lose a fight with a recycle unit,” he snorted quietly, then frowned at the nurse, who was frowning at him. “Oh, whatever,” Leux muttered, “that’s enough judgment, thanks,” he set the chart aside with a sigh, then reached out to gently nudge the grimy, exhausted-looking red-head’s uninjured shoulder to wake her.

“Hello, hi there, hellooo,” he smiled with each soft nudge, which didn’t seem to be doing more than producing more grumbled gibberish, so Arven snapped his fingers by her ear, which didn’t work either. “You sure you didn’t knock her out,” the Trill chuckled over his shoulder at the nurse, then frowned when Ellison shook her head with a shrug. “Well…shit,” Leux sucked his teeth, then tilted his head for a moment. “Maybe a red alert would work,” he thought out loud as he took a sip of coffee.

Apparently that did the trick, as she practically bolted upright without warning with such speed that Arven had to turn to avoid hitting her with the hot coffee that sprayed out of his mouth and nose.

"She lives," Leux grimaced as he wiped his mouth, then took a towel from the empty bed next door to wipe off his hand before dropping it to the floor. He mopped up the coffee there with his foot while he spoke. "You'll want to try not to move too much, and by much I mean not at all really - or you'll make this worse. Your shoulder is busted, but we have a few options to fix that, now that you're awake and can talk, hopefully," he spoke over her questions and confusion, then sighed and looked her in the eyes. "Okay, first big question - you want this done the easy way, or the really easy way? First one doesn't involve sedation, but you have to calm down."

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #2
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn doesn't do calm | Primary Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

There was something wrong with the vibrations.

And it was driving Azrin nuts, because she couldn’t figure out what it was. She’d been fine tuning the warp cores for weeks. All three of them, the cores, the injectors, the conduits, the crystals, matter, antimatter, and every other tiny piece of her massive machines. But now it felt wrong again. Most people who lived on starships eventually tuned out the resonance frequencies that travelled through the hulls, an ever-present white noise. Then there were those like Azrin, always listening carefully for tiny changes that indicated misalignments in the warp systems. She couldn’t sleep without them. She also couldn’t sleep if they weren’t in tune.

Something was off, and even asleep she was working on the problem, running through the equations in her head. It was like writing in fog, the wisps of conscious thought continuously slipping through her fingers. She was missing something. Something important. Deep in the ship, so close to the main core, it shouldn’t sound like this. Where was her thermos? She really needed some coffee right now. She could practically smell it…

Azrin shot up like a rocket, yelping with pain as the movement brought back all the pain in her shoulder that she’d somehow been ignoring. “Ow, ow, owwwww,” she mumbled. Someone was talking, but Azrin didn’t really register it yet, blinking sleepily a few times until her eyes finally focused on the one thing she really needed right now, which was conveniently right in front of her. “Thanks!” her grin was wide and genuine as she snatched the waiting coffee – which was strangely only half full – in a few deep gulps. “That’s much better,” she waited a moment for the caffeine to start its good work, the synapses in her brain and gut sparking back to life. “Can I have some more?”

As the fog finally cleared, Azrin realized where she was. Sickbay, of course! That was why the resonance felt wrong, she was ten decks above where she’d thought. They must have moved her while she’d been- “Oh no. No no no no no no.”

“What time is it?” Azrin blurted out, the pain fading into the background as panic sent adrenaline shooting through her veins. “Did I miss it? Please please tell me I didn’t miss it! I can’t have missed it again!” For Azrin, who could only fathom one event worthy of such devotion, it never occurred to her to explain what she was worried about. It was slipstream day. Who could miss that? “I have to get back to engineering!” There wasn’t a second to lose, and Azrin wasn’t about to wait for permission. She hopped out of bed, and everything went wrong immediately.

First, she slipped on something wet on the floor, her foot sliding out from under her before it was firmly placed. That sent her careening into the nearby doctor and a face full of lab coat. Her hands were reaching for some sort of stability. One hand was successful, grabbing to something. Unfortunately, that hand was connected to a shoulder which no longer worked, the pain reasserting itself through the adrenaline as a reminder that said hand was not going to help her. Finally, she was landing on the floor, looking up miserably at the doctor, another Trill.

“Thea,” she nearly cried, “What time is it?”

“The time is 0504 hours.” Oblivious to her plight, the computer’s voice was calm and smooth as ever.

Azrin let her head fall back on the hard floor in relief. “Thank the great bird of the galaxy. Still four hours left.”

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #3
[LT Arven Leux doesn't like this patient | PCU | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking, the situation deteriorated faster than anything Arven had ever seen. He blinked in muted surprise as his coffee cup was taken and chugged, his head tilted down at the exhausted, grime-covered red-head with a mix of concern and outrage; then frowned at her request for more.

“What? No,” he grumbled, snatching his mug back from her. “What the –“

Everything after that was a blur of noise and activity that any normal person in her condition shouldn’t be capable of. Arven saw her bloodshot eyes widen in fear, or anxiety – which was the only warning he got; the next second, she was scrambling off the bed, practically raving about...something.

“No, wait, don’t –“ he tried to talk her down, but too little, too late. He’d moved to block her but, having underestimated her speed, arrived just in time for her to slip on the coffee he’d sprayed onto the floor, and then their bodies collided with surprising force. The doctor managed to keep his balance, trying to prevent her from injuring herself – or him – in the process; limbs entangled in the brief struggle that followed.

He was not successful.

One hand tugged on his coat, the other collided with his groin, and squeezed, before gravity and momentum worked their magic. A brief, high pitched “aiiee” rang in his ears – just before she finally hit the floor; it was a sound Luex didn’t even know he was capable of, until it happened. Arven’s face flinched between a mask of shock and pain as their eyes met while he gradually pitched over, then crashed to his knees. There he stayed, forehead pressed to the cold tile, as agony spread from his testicles up into the pit of his stomach, trying to breathe. All of this happened in a matter of seconds; in the aftermath, he was dimly aware enough to hear her ask some asinine question, while the nurse wheezed out of sight.

It’s too early for this shit, Arven’s pain-addled brain groaned. He might have said it out loud, but wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the first time a patient had inadvertently harmed him, and likely wouldn’t be the last – but it took all of his considerable willpower to keep some semblance of what little professional composure he had left. His eyes wouldn’t open, locked tight in a grimace of pain, but he managed to turn his hear towards her voice, biting off every word in a rhetorical growl: “What. Is. Wrong. With. You?”

“Come on dear, lets get you up on the bed while the Doctor sorts himself out,” Ellison chimed in, sounding more amused than Arven appreciated. He managed to crack one eye open enough to see the nurse help the patient up, then just groaned out a few deep breaths. Something shiny in his peripheral caused a brow to twitch up; the patient’s file had fallen near his face. Arven straitened it with his nose – his arms were firmly wrapped around his abdomen – and skimmed it again.

Ryn. Stasis survivor. Arven grunted again at the injuries and miraculous surgery that saved both her life and the symbiote she carried. His eyes narrowed at an addendum at the bottom of her file, however. Flight risk: elevated, the words read, in bright blinking letters.

Oh, it's her…

“Sedate her, now,” Arven groaned, “and get somebody from security down here…we’ll do it the easy way,” he spoke over the patient’s protests.

Ellison tisked. “Arven,” she grunted in warning, “you’re really not helping – will you get up here and do your job already?”

“My name is Doctor, thank you very much,” he snapped back, attempting to right himself but unable to do so just yet. “And I’m doing my job – I read her damn file, didn’t I,” he added with a grimace, finally managing to pull himself upright, hands planted just above his knees, eyes narrowed at Ryn warily. “Hush,” he snapped his fingers at her to get her attention. “Just be quiet and listen, you maniac. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put you down for the next eighteen hours – and it better be really good.

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #4
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Primary Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You?”

“I think my shoulder is dislocated,” Azrin replied, much calmer now that she was assured of the time. If anything, her tone was helpful, drawing on knowledge from a lifetime ago. “I used to know how to fix that – I was good at fixing that – but I can’t quite remember how to right now. I never knew how much it hurt though.” Though the doctor had vanished from her field of view at some point, Azrin hadn’t successfully moved her head to track him, eyes still absently trailing the ceiling. Why didn’t design teams ever put anything interesting on sickbay ceilings? It would really brighten up the place. Especially since she spent so much time staring at it whenever she was in here. “Align properly in the gimbal for frictionless movement.” At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was talking about shoulders, the hull mountings for the point defense phasers, or interesting diagrams to paint on the ceiling. Maybe all three at once.

“Come on dear, let’s get you up on the bed while the Doctor sorts himself out.” At least the nurse seemed like she was having fun, always good to enjoy one’s work. Nurse Ellison had been on duty when Azrin and Mia had taken their walkabout a few weeks ago, but all seemed to be forgiven now. Her hands were firm, but she knew all the tricks to get Azrin back to her feet with minimal pain. Azrin compiled without much fuss, though she was rather against moving at all during that moment, adrenaline fading by the second and leaving room for all the other miseries. She finally found the doctor, kneeling on the ground himself right next to them, nearly in fetal position.

“Does he need a doctor too? I only read like that when I’m in a jefferies tube.” Her concern was genuine, but Kitty’s response was a strangled cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“Doctor Leux will be fine. He just needs a minute.” Without quite realizing it, Azrin was back on the biobed again, sitting up with her legs hanging over the ledge, injured arm held protectively to her chest. Ellison remained close by, either ready to brace her or body check her should Azrin decide to start moving again. Her good hand rested on her thigh, fingers absently tapping a rhythm, another small release of energy from someone with far too much of it.

Everything seemed to be calming down here. Kitty and – what was his name? Leux? – would fix her up, and Azrin would still get back down to engineering with plenty of time for another diagnostic and everything was going to be perfect. Then - “Sedate her, now.”

“What?” Azrin yelped, her voice the one jumping an octave this time as her heart tried to burst out of her chest. The biobed, which had started taking readings again the moment it had registered her weight, started beeping frantically in response. The engineer would have been on her feet already, but Ellison was ready for her, pushing her back while simultaneously chiding the doctor. “Why do you call Zark every time I come in here! I haven’t even done anything! What if she shows up in the exosuit again? I already told her that I don’t have that kind of worm!”

Since Kitty was the one physically holding her back, Azrin had mostly been pleading with her, starting on a ramble of incidents that wouldn’t make sense to the nurse, considering that she’d only been there for one of them. But Azrin wasn’t thinking about logic, getting louder and louder in her panic to match the biobed’s continued beeping. Somehow, from his undignified position on the ground, Leux managed to bring silence to the room with a snap, a testament to the doctor’s control over his domain.

The two trills stared each other down, one annoyed, the other with her mouth open in horror. “But–” she began, the words seeming to bottle up in her throat painfully, unable to reach her lips, before all falling out in a tumble. “I already told you! I have to get back to engineering! What does it take you so long to fix a shoulder for anyway? Dezra used to do that in like five minutes! And if you put me to sleep for eighteen hours I’ll miss it! Again!”

“Miss what?” The nurse prompted, starting to sound slightly out of breath from her efforts to keep Azrin on the bed. Those two little words however, were enough for the engineer to freeze, staring incredulously at the human.

“The slipstream drive,” Azrin replied, as though that should have been obvious. Because it should have been. Miss what? What else? Was there another game changing, revolutionary, rewriting everything they knew about space travel piece of technology being used today? “We’re using it in four hours and I have to be there. Was she overestimating how much they needed her? Certainly. The ship had gone to slipstream while she’d been in stasis. Since taking over the system, she’d taken care to train the rest of the engineering staff as she’d learned. Redundancy was the key to any system. It wasn’t so much that engineering needed her as much as Azrin needed engineering. If she missed it again, she was going to lose her mind. But no matter the underlying reason, her words had enough force behind them to make Kitty pause.

“You know, actually, I don’t even need the arm. I’ll come back later. After. When I’m done. I’d rather make sure nothing blows up.”

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #5
[LT Arven Leux | Primary Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
During much of the exchange between nurse and patient, Arven quickly filled a hypospray while he observed Ryn's vitals and behavior warily. Doubtless she was unaware of the fact that her speech was slightly slurred at the edges, while equally bordered on full blown maniacal; the type of talk he had personally seen and experienced himself – when the days had blurred into snippets of adrenaline-fueled moments of lucidity during his time under the tender mercies of Cardassian soldiers. Despite the annoyance at her for accosting his testicles (and the disruption to his normally boring domain) Leux felt a pang of sympathy for the engineer; whatever reason or excuse she used to push herself so hard obviously needed to be addressed – barring a legitimate medical condition, of course – which would be treated accordingly. With his back to them both, the Doctor grunted at her declaration dismissively.

“I really cannot overstate the idiocy of that entire statement, Lieutenant,” Arven snorted, then eyed her over his shoulder with a mocking look of feigned surprise – brows raised, eyes wide – before adding a shake of his head. The incessant beeping from the biobed went ignored as he stood tall with a slight wince, his attention returned to the PADD in one hand. “If so much as a toe hits the deck off that bed, this goes from medical intervention to me pulling your duty status indefinitely,” Leux stated matter-of-factly.

Sounds of struggle ensued. “Doc-,” Ellison half grunted, distracting him slightly.

“I’d really advise you to try to relax, Miss Ryn,” Leux murmured distractedly while he re-read the facts before him, idling by the side of the bed without really even paying attention to what was going on.

“Arven,” Ellison hissed, to which he lifted a finger. His eyes darted over the data, absorbing Ryn’s brain chemistry, vitals, hormone levels and balance, all of it  collated and compared to previous data. It painted a bleak picture, both in terms of the patient's physical and mental health, if uncorrected.

“The shoulder is only a symptom of a much larger problem, Lieutenant – a problem you’ve been avoiding for some time by the numbers I’m seeing here,” Arven stated. “Do you even realize how much damage you’re doing to your cardiovascular system alone? Caffeine is not a substitution for sleep, Miss Ryn,” he grunted again.

The muffled sounds of struggle ceased suddenly, replaced by only ragged breaths. When he finally looked up, Ellison met his eyes with a glare – looking as if she’d just lost a wrestling match. Arven’s brow knitted as he looked around for the crazed redhead.

“What happened? Where’d she go?”

“Where do you think, you ass,” Ellison snapped back as she tried to straiten her uniform, gesturing to a hole that had magically appeared behind the biobed leading directly into the bulkhead; a portal into tight confines Arven really had no business or interest in exploring.

“Wonderful,” Arven sighed, then bit the hypospray between his teeth and shooed Ellison out of the way before kneeling down with a grunt to follow after her. “If’m nyot bak if ahn our, kall sucurty,” he mumbled around the spray. “Twold yu so,” he added with a grumble. “Nu won listtens.”

Ellison watched him squeeze into the cubby, hands planted on her hips while she shook her head.


Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #6
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Primary Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

She’d tried to be good. Really, she did. After all, who wanted to be running around with a broken shoulder? But before he had so much as finished his first sentence, it was completely and terribly clear that Doctor Leux hadn’t listened to a word she’d said. Nor was she going to be able to convince him otherwise. She had to be in engineering in four hours – what was so difficult to understand about that?

The last time she had ‘escaped’ from sickbay, Azrin hadn’t put much effort into it. They’d been going stir crazy, Mia had suggested a walk, and everything barely escalated from there. All she’d had to do was rewire the biobed’s pressure sensors – child’s play – and the two had simply walked out. They’d been caught almost immediately. The only reason the event had lasted as long as it did was because Zark was delightfully fun when not in a pretzel mood, and the security officer had decided to enable them instead.

This time was different. This time her goal was to get as far away from Doctor Arven Leux as possible, before she spent another six months in medically induced sleep. What was the point of living if she spent all of it asleep?

Azrin knew every centimeter of this ship. She was especially acquainted with the Theurgy’s underbelly, the endless tunnels of Jefferies tubes that created another system of paths behind the bulkheads and beneath the decking. Everyone was required to know how to navigate the tubes in case of emergency, But over the years, Starfleet had become lax about it. The only true experts were the engineers who frequented the tunnels during their normal duties. Conveniently, a quick estimate of the relative distance to each bulkhead put her right by a hatch.

She had been unsuccessfully fighting Kitty for a while now. They were pretty evenly matched. Azrin had a better angle, but Kitty had two working arms. But the nurse, who had correctly placed herself between her patient and the door, was not expecting for Azrin to suddenly throw herself backwards, rolling over her uninjured shoulder and dropping off the other side of the biobed. A quick scoot behind the bed revealed the hatch, exactly where she’d expected it to be. By the time the nurse realized what was happening, all she could do was watch the bottom of Azrin’s feet as she vanished into the tubes.

Her toes, incidentally, never touched the decking. The soles of her shoes were in the way.

The flaw in her plan made itself known quickly. Crawling with only three limbs was much harder, and even though she wasn’t using her arm, the movement was enough to bring back the pain. Interestingly, the joint itself didn’t hurt, but everything around it was screaming. Azrin continued on doggedly, switching directions and paths frequently, but she knew she was going much slower than normal. She needed a better plan than just a race.

As she crawled, she brought up various schematics in her head, running through them until she found the system she wanted. Behind her, the sounds of someone else banging around in the tubes was getting louder. Zark and a bunch of nurses probably. With one last burst of speed, she threw herself around a corner, yelping as her shoulder banged into the corner, scurried about halfway down the tube, and ripped a panel off the wall.

Another slowness problem, working with one hand. Reconnect wires to get the proper power input. Pull out the computer control chip. The pursuit was getting closer, but Azrin didn’t dare look, focusing on her work. Force reset. Key in the override. Activate!

A security forcefield flickered to life in a shower of sparks, blocking off the tube behind her. She looked over to see a furious Arven right on the other side, hypospray stuck between his teeth. Seemed like she’d made it just in time. Why hadn't he called security? That's what everyone else did.

“Now,” Azrin began, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. The word was barely audible over her labored breathing. “I have medical… rights… and I refuse… to be… sedated!” She leaned against the wall to try and catch her breath, the discarded wall panel digging uncomfortably into her butt. “Just because you don’t get it doesn’t mean that I don’t have to be in engineering at 0900! I am not going to let you people… put me to sleep… again.”

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #7
[LT Arven Leux | Jefferies Tube Adjacent to Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
Once he had managed to wiggle his way into the darkened access hatch, Arven grunted as he crawled after his quarry (the engineer was surprisingly fast, given her current medical and mental condition). All he saw of her was a hobbled blur of motion before the redhead disappeared around a corner, legs kicking as she hobbled along. He spit the hypo out into the palm of his hand to call out to her, but of course she ignored him completely. Figures, Leux grumbled to himself, then clamped the hypo back in his teeth and started after her again.

The Doctor didn’t know who Jeffery was, or why they designed these insufferable maintenance tubes to be so confining; it didn’t make any sense to him. Not that that really mattered at the moment – but he’d like to find them and ask what the hell they were thinking. Engineers, he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Once he got to an intersection (which was a four-way, three dimensional one) Arven’s head snapped back and forth, trying to figure out which way his wayward patient went. Of course, there was no sign of her.

“Dis ish imtolurbul,” he grumbled around the hypo in his teeth with a sigh, then attempted to call for Thea, but the ship’s AI didn’t respond, (probably because he pronounced her name as 'Deah') so he spit the hypo back out into one hand and tried again. “Thea, can you locate Lt. Ryn, please?”

“Is there a problem with your communicator, Doctor,” the ship’s disembodied voice held an odd note of almost...amusement.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Leux replied after a telling pause of confusion.

“I see. A moment,” Thea’s voice seemed to say through a knowing smile. “Lieutenant Ryn is one sub-level below your location, 1.9 meters away and climbing, slowly. I detect some...unusual fluctuations in her bio-readings. Is she well?”

Arven took off, back to crawling around on his hands and knees, hypo between his teeth.

“Wemains tah beh sheen. Tanks, Deah.”

After fumbling around for about a minute (he couldn’t find the access to the sub-level) Arven fell through finally but scrambled to a low-crawl position quick enough to continue after the rogue engineer. He could hear her fiddling with something as she panted just ahead around a corner. Finally, the Doctor rolled his eyes with another grunt as he scampered forward on his hands and knees, only to slam face first into a force-field hard enough to jar the hypo from his teeth.

“Ow,” Arven blinked, rubbing the side of his face, which was now numb. “That hurt,” he pointed at Ryn, eyes narrowed in disdain. While the redhead proceeded with her proclamation of ‘patient rights’ and stubborn defiance, the Doctor looked around in the dim light, trying to find the hypospray he dropped.

“Well, that’s the difference between you and me – I’m actually trying to help you,” he grunted over his shoulder at her, “whereas you seem to be too self-absorbed to think of anyone other than yourself.” It was dangerous, and often futile to argue with delusional people, but Arven was so annoyed and flustered that he couldn’t help himself. So he talked while he searched, ignoring her attempts to interrupt completely, his tone thick with condescending sarcasm.

“Okay, sure; lets pretend you really know what’s best for you right now – ignoring all evidence to the contrary – like the fact that you’re physically and mentally exhausted to the point of collapse, which is how you ended up in Sickbay to begin with by the way. In this fantasy world, I fix your shoulder and send you on your merry way back to your precious... super-duper go-faster...thing, in engineering. But wait – what happens? Oh no, that’s right, you’re still sleepy, and oh no, you fall asleep! Only this time, you don’t hurt yourself, you end up maiming or killing half the crew because something goes really wrong – but you're asleep. See the problem here? Put it another way...what if you miss this whole big important thing anyway because....spoiler fall asleep!"

He found the hypo finally. It was lodged between the grating below him, just out of reach of his fingers;  the same grating that was digging into his knees painfully. “What kind of sadist chose steel grating here,” Arven grumbled to himself, trying to dig the damn thing out. It just kept slipping away from his fingers. “I’m having so much fun, thank you for this,” he grunted at Ryn over his shoulder. “Now I wish I had gotten stuck doing those stupid diagnostics! But noooo, you had to go and drop into my life instead,” his eyes narrowed at her through the shimmer of the field.

She looked like she was nodding off – or fighting a losing battle against it.

Are you even listening to me?

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #8
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

“Why should I listen to you?” Azrin responded, the slight bite in her tone the only real indication that she’d been paying attention. While he’d spoke – more like ranted – Azrin had done her best to listen, shifting uncomfortably against the bulkhead in an attempt to find a less painful position, though it was quickly becoming apparent that it was not going to be possible. Sleep had been elusive for weeks now, out of reach beyond the tossing and turning and constant churn and spiral of her thoughts. But she remembered it’s gentle embrace – lights out, see you tomorrow – as something much sweeter than this. No, this didn’t feel like sleep. It felt like passing out from pain. Probably because some self-righteous doctor was so worried about her insomnia that he was refusing to treat her broken shoulder. “It’s not like you’ve listened to anything I’ve said.”

“The floor is for traction. And they’ll put components down there that need more air circulation than they’d get locked inside a compartment. It won’t hurt your knees if you put a jumpsuit on first. It’s got padding.” She wasn’t entirely sure why the attack on the Jefferies tubes was the offense she’d decided to tackle first. Maybe because Azrin had always felt so at peace down here. This was the heart of the ship, pathways that would keep the Theurgy running and connected long after the nice wide corridors and speedy turbolifts were inoperable.

While she was talking, Azrin had turned back towards the open compartment, making tiny adjustments to the components inside with her good hand. This was what Leux didn’t get, though Azrin had no idea how she was supposed to convince him. Working was the only thing that kept her awake, kept her focused, lit her brain with an excitement that would win over sleep every time. Sitting there doing nothing, she’d be out in minutes, but this made her feel alive.

“You should enjoy your job more. You get mad at people coming to you for treatment, you hate diagnostics. Why are you a doctor at all if you don’t love it? Diagnostics are nice.” She was running one right now in fact, wandering fingers having registered a few degree temperature variation that didn’t bode well for her forcefield. “Its like talking to the ship – or your patient. Running a test, seeing what ails them, then putting everything back together again. And it’s easy to think of it as just hard, rigid numbers that anyone can go through, but then you learn how to communicate with it better, get a feel for it outside of what all the manuals say. Like how differently a warp core will resonate through a ship when there’s three of them and they aren’t at all equidistant from each other. We’re in the very bottom of Vector 2, by the way. It’s mostly Aux 2 this far forward, with an undertone for the main core beneath us. Aux 2 is between us and Aux 1, which is harmonizing nicely right now. You don’t really hear it up here unless it’s out of sync. Sure, Thea speaks Federation Standard now, but this is her native language. I can tell when something is wrong way before I pinpoint it with a diagnostic. That’s how I do my job.”

It was definitely not her best argument. The plot wandered, the analogy was muddling between her own experiences and at least two other hosts, and her focus was still firmly on her tinkering. At least her fingers were as capable as ever, muscle memory of years keeping every movement precise. She’d been right about the forcefield failing earlier, but at least she’d bought herself time to set up a much longer lasting solution.

There was no way Arven could have seen the fire suppression unit coming as it dropped down from about half a meter behind him. Even if he heard it, the lag time between activation and deployment was only a quarter of a second, so the foam engulfed him before had a chance to turn around. She’d convinced the system that his clothes were a chemical fire, causing it to sealing him in a jelly like foam that was nearly impossible to move in.

Once it was done, she quickly erased the fire control override right as the forcefield sputtered out, so the node wouldn’t register her clothes and start up again. “Sorry. It’s harmless, if some of it got in your mouth.” Her fingers were still moving, resetting both systems she’d messed with so they’d return to the computer’s normal automated control. “Even though that’s basically what you’re planning to do to me, but at least you get to be conscious.”

“I’ve spent weeks working on the slipstream drive. I’m supposed to master it. Because if it does break a lot of people might die and if we lose the speed it gives us then we all might die." Azrin was typically a happy person. She tried very hard to keep it that way. But her composure was obviously breaking as she continued, more than a little frustration and worry breaking through. "But the people who gave it to us refuse to tell us how it works. I can’t test it because we don’t have enough benamite crystals to waste on a test. I can’t build an accurate model because we haven’t used it enough for a useful sample size. I don’t even like theoretical models! I learn by doing. How am I supposed to understand it when I’ve never seen it work? Never felt how the ship shudders or hums around it?"

"I have to be there. I'm not saying that because I'm tired or hurt or crazy or whatever you're thinking right now. I have to be there! Otherwise you might as well drop me in an escape pod after you knock me out, because this is what I'm on the ship to do. And it's my only chance to do it.”

OOC: I wrote this at night so it is appropriately sleep deprived.

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #9
[LT Arven Leux | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
Leux gave up on the attempt to recover the hypo with a grimace; it was useless – his fingers were too big, and the pain from the awkward position only fueled his annoyance at the entire situation. He twisted his torso and body around in the limited space available with a grunt of effort, until he managed to straiten himself out to lie on his belly in a low crawl. Arven’s head snapped up at Azrin’s tone, elbows propped up on the insufferably uncomfortable grating – and scoffed at her rebuttal.

“Now wait just a bloody minute -,” he attempted to interrupt with an incredulous look, his tone clipped in the accent usually reserved for people he knew well and felt comfortable around; which were very few, and certainly not present. Of course, Azrin ignored him completely and proceeded to defend the absurd structural design of the tube, even going so far as to inform Arven that he was wearing the wrong attire - as if he should have known that or even had time to change before this ridiculous turn of events.

“Fascinating, really – I’ll be sure to -,” Leux deadpanned, but Azrin talked over him once again. His features blanked into a surprised mask of affront at her words – brows raised, slack jawed – unable to do much of anything but blink at the sheer audacity of the woman. He didn’t even bother trying to follow along with the ludicrous attempt at her rambled metaphoric comparison, and ignored the yammering explanation of warp core harmonics altogether; he didn’t have a bloody clue what the hell she was on about anyway.

He couldn't look away from her though.

Azrin was propped up, her back leaned on a bulkhead, one good arm extended to the elbow within the faint orange glow of the tube wall opposite her. That same orange glow lit one side of her dirt and grime smeared face; lined with bitterness, fear, but above all, fatigue. Ratty, frizzled hair – rust-red in the gloom – spilled over one shoulder in a bun that looked like it hadn’t been kept in days; maybe weeks. Bloodshot eyes flicked open with every slow blink.

Arven’s annoyance and outrage was pushed aside. Azrin needed his help; she was in pain, beyond exhausted, and afraid – clearly terrified – to face the reality of her current condition. If he didn’t change tact, right now, things were only going to get worse for her.

“Azrin -,” Leux spoke her name calmly, the beginning of what was supposed to be an honest attempt at a sympathetic speech to encourage her to lower the force field: he’d promise to treat her shoulder, and talk to her, like she recommended – not just as a problem to solve or a machine to repair – but as a person, like the engineer talked to the ship. He wouldn’t force her to sleep, not right away at least; he’d lost the hypo anyway! They could find an alternative treatment, and with time, improve her quality of life! That was his job, to help people, and he did enjoy it; for the most part, anyway. It seemed like a viable strategy, and Arven had felt relatively confident in its success; unfortunately, he didn’t get very far with it at all.

A flood of cool, methanol-scented foam encased Arven completely in an instant from somewhere behind him. By the time his brain registered what had happened, he was stuck within a slowly quivering mass of blue-green jelly; it was in his nose, in his mouth, choking his throat. Deprived of sight, sound, but most importantly, air – Arven tried to thrash in the confines of this new, fresh hell in an attempt to free himself, but he couldn’t move at all. Before the panic truly set in, he had time for only one thought:

Bugger me – I’m gonna die in a bloody Jefferies tube.

If Azrin said anything else, it was utterly lost on the Doctor. All he could do was slap his hand – the only part of his body still free from the goo – frantically against the foam cocoon that was killing him.

OOC: way to go Red. Plz save him :)

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #10
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

She hadn’t been looking at him as she spoke, allowing her work – though in this case it was more tinkering, since nothing needed repairing and she was only making tiny superfluous modifications – to keep her focused. This was something Azrin could do in her sleep, which was ironic because it was the only thing keeping her awake.

Something had told her to stop talking after her final pronouncement, allowing the words to hit with a dramatic thud. Azrin had never been good at speaking. Sure, she could word vomit with the best of them, long rambling sentences that formed and hit air without so much as a thought in between. One of her past hosts had been a politician, someone who had spent days going over his speeches mulling over every single word in search of perfection. Of all of the lives she’d gained during joining, Azrin understood Mathiz the least. For the first time, she was desperate for his skills, certain that the lack of response meant that she’d explained herself terribly.

But now that she thought about it, why wasn’t Leux talking? His retorts had been coming quickly the entire time so far, even to the point of interrupting. And what was with the banging? Was he so dismissive of her that he’d resorted to banging his head against the ground instead?

“Now who’s not listenin—“ Azrin declared at she turned to him, the words dying in her throat as her mouth fell open. “Oh shit.” 

Once, back at the Academy, she’d gone home for the weekend with a human friend who hailed from a city east of San Francisco, and his parents had made them all a traditional human meal. Among other things, they’d included something called ‘Jello Salad’ which shared absolutely no ingredients with any other salad Azrin had seen before, tasted a bit garbage, but had a delightfully fun consistency when it came to suspending other solids inside it.

Arven looked like Jello Salad.

“You weren’t supposed to eat it!” He wasn’t fully suspended, one hand had been spared, which had been banging on the ground in an attempt to get her attention. The fire suppression had completely overdone it – which was a massive design flaw that she was going to deal with later provided she wasn’t in the brig for murder. Only his clothes had been targeted, but he was firmly encased on all sides by at least six centimeters. It was hard to see him through the opaque jelly, which looked soft but was completely still. What were the actual molecular components of the suppressant gel? She would have expected it to vibrate.

“Right. Ummm…” Then Azrin perked up with a flash. “I can fix that! I know how to fix that.” Then she rolled back onto her knees and dashed down the tube in the opposite direction from him in a three limbed scramble. She tried to keep her bad arm close to her chest, but banged it more than once, the quick journey to the end of the tube punctuated by more than few yelps.

Then came the part where her one working arm was a problem. Azrin swung onto the ladder easily enough, pressed herself as close to it as she could and hooked her bad arm around the side, trying to keep all her weight in her feet and only use the arm as a brace. Then she yanked open an emergency panel and reached past the rebreathers, mag boots, hazmat suits, and medical kits to grab a metal bottle near the back. Thankfully, it already had a valve and nozzle on it, so she didn’t have to figure out how to attach it with her teeth.

Unfortunately, that was also the moment her foot slipped. She didn’t drop the bottle, but she did slam it hard into her face in an attempt to grab the ladder while keeping hold of it. Her nose didn’t feel broken, but it was throbbing, another source of pain to add to her woes. Something was dripping down towards her lip. “This was supposed to the best day ever,” Azrin complained, before hooking the valve in her teeth and pulling herself back into the tube.

“One more second,” she assured Arven once she was back, immediately spraying him with yet another chemical, this one an aerosol that counteracted the fire suppressant. “Don’t worry, it works fast.” Like most things in engineering, both compounds had been made for easy distribution and cleanup. Once they interacted they canceled each other out, making quick paths to reach damaged components once the fire was out.

Azrin leaned forward to watch it, trying to get a good look at him through the jello, and ended up very close to his face once the doctor was clear. “Are you ok?” she asked instantly, before he had so much as a chance to catch his breath. “It wasn’t supposed to do that. I had it target your—” As she spoke, Azrin’s gaze drifted down to the clothes in question, then stopped at the sight. Then she was laughing, a mad, painful laugh that bloomed unbidden, falling from her lips in waves as she tried to catch her breath too.

“I didn’t think it would do that either! That’s so—I love chemistry. It’s not really my thing though. There’s some… that way.” The words were barely comprehensible through another fit of giggles. She was really losing it now. “Can you please fix my shoulder? It really really hurts.”

Azrin had told the system that his clothes were fire. So it had gotten rid of the fire.

Now he was completely naked.

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #11
[LT Arven Leux | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
His lungs were on fire, the irony of which (given the fact that he'd nearly been killed by fire suppressant) would only be appreciated later. Once he was able, Arven spat and gasped for oxygen, which only drew more of the foul tasting semi-gelatinous crap into his throat and lungs; it clogged his ears, too – everything sounded muted, like he was deep underwater, except the thunderous crash of his pulse. He hacked for an unknowable amount of time, trying to blink the goo out of his eyes as Azrin cackled maniacally – his brain unable to understand what she was saying, along with what the hell had happened – but most of all, he tried to figure out why his skin felt…

Why do I feel naked, he thought, surprisingly calm and curious, given the circumstances.

He managed to raise his face off the grating, propped up on his elbows, then looked over a shoulder. Sure enough, his ass was out in the air; a few ragged scraps of fabric was all that remained of his attire. Arven coughed again, spraying more jello to the side, then hung his head with a subtle shake – unsure if he should be furious or beside himself with laughter.

Okay – it’s fine. Just…, Arven cleared his throat, then took several deep breaths. Just do your job, no one needs to know about this. No one will. It’s just you and Miss Delirious, it’s fine. The redhead was still giggling, but managed to plead for him to attend her shoulder.

Embarressment and outrage flooded him, and Arven's jaw clenched to bite off the sour, bitter retort on his tongue; every muscle in his body locked rigid with a groan that lasted for nearly ten seconds. Once that episode passed and his body relaxed, he lifted his head and blinked at her with a pleasant, entirely false, smile. She won’t tell – even if she does, no one in their right mind would believe it. Nothing to worry about.

“Sure,” Leux croaked, more to himself than Azrin, but he nodded to her anyway. “If you’d be so kind,” he twirled his fingers at her – a request to preserve his modesty – then pointed at the wall she’d leaned against earlier. “Go over there, and please don’t mess with anything. I’ll be right over, soon as I sort my life out. Please and thank you,” he spoke firmly but perfectly amicably, as if to a toddler; every word enunciated kindly. He kept his eyes locked on her as his hands fumbled around to gather up all the scraps of fabric he could find, as quickly as possible; kicking the useless, half disintegrated remnants of his shoes from his feet.

Once Azrin turned her back to him, Arven popped up to his knees, (too quick, as his head cracked into the top of the tube) and quickly tied a makeshift loincloth around his waist from the tattered remains of his uniform. Azrin must have heard the noise (and subsequent grunt of pain); he saw her start to turn, and Arven’s hand shot out with a finger lifted at her in warding. “I’m fine – no peeking, or no lollipop! Just…stay there, no touchie, okay? Good, that’s great. Thank you so much,” he encouraged her kindly, nodding slowly as he finished with the knots on either side of his hips with a sigh.

His mind raced with anything he could think of to keep her calm and somewhat compliant –something to bribe her cooperation – before he shuffled painfully over to where she sat on his hands and knees.

“If you don’t like candy, I’ve got a nice broken PADD you can have,” he grunted with every move. “Would you like that? It’s really broken – some meany head threw it and smashed it up good. Think you could fix it for me,” he asked, not really caring, but just keeping up the ruse.

Once he got into a position that would work, Arven rubbed his hands together to take some of the sting from the grating away with a grimace as he adjusted his knees under him. “Okay, let’s get that shoulder working again. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m about to do, okay? All you need to do is just try to stay still, and help me fix it, okay? It won’t hurt, no more than it already does. Here’s what we’ll do…” he kept his tone light, encouraging and supportive; the procedure was relatively simple – his hands moved as he explained it. One held her thin bicep, after draping her forearm over his. The other went to the bony, injured shoulder, to very gently massage the muscles and tendons there. “I know it’s uncomfortable, your doing fine though,” he murmured, while holding traction. “Try to focus on these muscles here – just here,” he nodded and applied a bit more pressure into the massage of Azrin’s shoulder. “Try to relax just here, okay? We need these to relax so she can slide back home. She wants to go home and work right – then you can work right again. No more ouchie,” he nodded patiently.

After another thirty seconds or so, Arven slowly, gradually, began to raise her arm. He kept gentle pressure on the shoulder joint, feeling the bone and tendons rotate and flex. “Easy, you’re doing great. Almost there,” he nodded again. Once her arm rose to about 80 or 90 degrees perpendicular to her chest, Arven felt the ball joint slide home into its socket, gentle and without a sound.

“There, you did it – all better,” his head tilted at her with a sigh, then blinked in surprise as he heard her grumble something incoherently, fainter than a whisper – followed by a soft snore. He gently pressed his hand to her throat, long enough to feel her pulse, then tucked the loose strands of her ratty copper hair behind one ear with another sigh.

Sometime during the past few moments, Azrin had fallen asleep. She looked peaceful, if fretful; her face and body twitched with involuntary spasms – the mind’s attempt to fight the body’s need for respite.

“Reckon we’ll figure the rest out in a bit then,” Leux whispered, letting her rest, if only for a few minutes. He made sure she wouldn’t topple over, then turned around to crawl back the way he came to search for his combadge – with more than one glance back at her.

Bloody hell, don’t wake up till I get back, please, he hoped – unsure if he could tolerate anyone seeing him in his present state.

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #12
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

She probably laughed for too long.

But one she’d started, it was like her brain had lost the off switch, fits coming and going without thought or reason as Arven picked himself up. She’d meant to reiterate that it was non-toxic, though she wasn’t sure if his stomach would enjoy it in those amounts, but the words never found their way to the surface. So instead she just did what he said, turning around while he tried to regain some semblance of modesty. It was probably a useless endeavor, but some people worried about those things. Azrin waited patiently enough, leaning against the wall, her fingers tapping an endless rhythm on her knees until he was ready. By then the laughter had finally died away.

“I’m 392 years old,” she informed him, because that was mostly true, depending on how one counted. But he was a Trill, so he would get the nuance. “Not five. Putting on a different tone doesn’t make you any less rude. I’ll happily fix your PADD, but what are you trying to bribe me for? I’ve been asking you to fix my shoulder the whole time.” He said he’d help and he wasn’t threatening to sedate her again, so why wouldn’t Azrin stay? They would have skipped a lot of painful running around if he’d done this in the first place.

She heard him come up behind her, shuffling against the grating in a way that was definitely going to scuff up his knees. He really needed to get his legs higher as he crawled. Maybe he was simply too big to fit properly. Azrin hadn’t really seen him standing up yet, but he must be tall.

For the most part, she was a perfect patient – again, they had finally gotten to the medical care Azrin needed and requested. She followed his instructions, not that there was much to do besides sit there, flinching a few times as his fingers pressed into a particularly sensitive area, and generally tried to hide her face in the wall to get as far away from it as possible. But after the initial few moments, it actually didn’t feel all that bad, and Azrin started to relax despite herself. Even through her coveralls, his hands were warm, and the gentle pressure was much nicer than the various jolts and bangs she’d received while racing around down here. This was a whole different side of Doctor Arven Leux, acid tongue dropping into something much more soothing as he worked. His words flowed nicer without that biting edge cutting off the ends, and as he explained the process she found herself drifting away instead. When the joint popped back into place, Azrin didn’t feel it at all.

“Get... Jefferies tube…”

She was supposed to be fixing something. Something important. Vitally important. But Azrin couldn’t remember what. Instead, she was lying on the floor of the Jefferies tube, watching smoke drift above her, trying to sing a song. It was one of Elza’s songs. But it was wrong. Or Azrin was wrong. Or the background track was wrong. Yes, that one, the last one. It was on surround sound, coming from all sides, vibrating from the ground and through the walls. It was uneven, off tune. Elza would have known the problem in an instant, but Azrin didn’t. She had the musician’s memories, but not the instinct that had made her so… no, wait. This was the warp core. She knew that.

“Power buildup… conduit…”

It was cold. Which really didn’t make sense considering the whole tube was obviously on fire. She should move. She should have been doing something about that. But Azrin just… couldn’t. She was trapped in place, ice spreading up her limbs even as flames licked in the edges of her vision. It didn’t make sense.

She needed to be working.

The ship was… the ship was under attack! Warp drive malfunction, needed to fix it, fix the antimatter regulation. Starfleet was attacking them, but they were Starfleet. Another conundrum, another thing that didn’t fit.

If she could just fix the song—no the engines—why couldn’t she move?

“Get out!”
Azrin awoke with a start, gasping as she jerked away from the wall. Thankfully, Arven seemed to have done his work. Although every tendon in her shoulder wanted to complain about it, at least her arm was working again. Though, speaking of the doctor, where had he gone? Azrin looked around nonplussed, still not totally awake yet. “Um, hello?” So he’d done his work and then he’d left? What was with this guy? “Does this mean I can go back to work now?”

She moved her arm again, more experimentally this time. Not the best, but she could live with it. “Yeah, I think this means I can go back to work now. Just in time for—” Oh no. Then she was shouting. “What time is it?”

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #13
[LT Arven Leux | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
The doctor worked fast while she was out.

The combadge was discovered first, lodged between the various glowing cables of bio-neuro circuitry beneath the grating where the majority of his clothes had melted off. Arven fiddled with the release latch of the grating until he finally figured out how to lever the damn thing open with a grunt of effort; there was literally no room to operate in the tight confines of the tube. How the hell are people supposed to work in these conditions, he grumbled to himself, then froze to listen. He did that every so often just to make sure he could still hear Ryn’s snores and incoherent mumbles. Once he had the badge, Arven scrambled out of that tube and into another, slightly larger one, adjacent to the intersection where the redhead slept to peek around a corner at her. She was drooling on herself, now.

Brilliant, stay asleep, he sighed at her.

The next priority was clothes.

A quick request to Thea for a fresh uniform turned into a bit of a...situation, rather quickly. The AI was, in hindsight, understandably curious and concerned; she even went so far as to remind him (and to inform Azrin) that tampering with certain systems (specifically; fire suppression) for no apparent reason went against numerous regulations. With that knowledge, the Doctor – still frazzled with the entire almost-dying-by-asphyxiation-on-fire-suppressant ordeal – had made the rather unwise mistake of interrupting the AI. Thea...didn’t take it very well.

“Doctor Leux, I realize you are under considerable stress – however – I remind you that I am a sentient member of this crew as well as an integral and inseparable part of this ship. I am not a replicator – nor do I appreciate being treated as one; a fact you would do well to remember," she informed him, quite curtly.

Of course, Arven covered the badge with both hands in an attempt to muffle her speech with a wince back at the sleepy engineer. His own voice dropped to a sincere whisper, after a dramatic sigh. “Thea,” the doctor cleared his throat, “I...would like to begin my apology by saying that I am fully aware -”

Accepted. Good day, Doctor Leux,” the AI interrupted pleasantly.

Arven froze, unsure what to do. Just as he was about to panic and try to find his way back to sickbay clad in nothing but a loincloth, a neatly folded pile appeared next to him – a fresh uniform, socks, underwear, and shoes. “Note to self, don’t ever piss off Thea,” he sighed in relief. With another quick look back at Ryn – who was twitching again – Leux wasted no time in getting himself dressed. He considered trying to use the hastily improvised loincloth to scrub the worst of the jelly that still clung to his skin, but thought better of it. He could always wash the foul smelling residue off later.

While he dressed, Arven opted to hail the Chief of Engineering. He didn’t really know Frank Arnold, but as Azrin’s direct supervisor, the man needed to be informed about the medical status of his people; the doctor informed the Chief of the situation - in clearly defined and articulated terms - taking care to keep his voice regulated and strictly professional, despite the fact that Arnold’s peon had attempted to murder him. The Chief seemed like a pleasant enough chap however, and after his assurance that the issue would be handled, Arven closed the channel.

Around the time Leux was struggling to pull the teal undershirt over his sticky shoulders and down his torso, he froze and listened – then peeked around the corner very slowly. Sure enough, the maniac was awake. Oh, wonderful. Capital, really, Arven groaned silently with a grimace. He didn’t bother tucking in the undershirt in favor of hastily securing his shoes, while Azrin was shouting about what time it was. “Bloody hell here we go again,” the doctor grumbled as his eyes rolled, then took a really deep breath to prepare himself for whatever fresh hell was about to transpire.

“Wait. Wait a minute,” he stood up quickly, arms raised, and slowly walked out into view. His head was ducked comically to the side – belt undone – duty jacket held in one hand. “Listen, it’s only been about ten minutes or so, okay? You haven’t missed anything,” he shook his head quickly. “You fell asleep, sort of – and even though your shoulder works properly, I strongly recommend you come back to Sickbay with me,” his brows rose with a slight shrug. “Of course, your 400 years old – I’m sure all that accumulated wisdom counts for something. By all means, do as you please.”

The way he saw it, she’d either come with him or limp back to Engineering to get handled by Arnold; either way, he’d be seeing her again soon enough - and Arven was quite done with this delightful little jaunt into the tubes.

“I promise I wont put you to sleep, okay,” he added sincerely – hoping she’d be reasonable. "I just want to run some tests and give you a little something to ease that discomfort. Alright?"

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #14
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion

Apparently Arven hadn’t left, though Azrin was far too busy fretting about the slipstream drive to have an opinion on that. When he told her how long it had been, it was enough to calm her down for a moment, but then her gaze turned suspicious. “If it had been hours, would you even tell me? It’s not like you’ve cared so far. I keep telling you, it’s important that I be there when we turn the slipsteam drive—where did you get new clothes from? We don’t keep any uniforms in the storage areas down here.”

Azrin had meant to direct him towards the same storage area where she’d gotten the reagent for the fire suppressant, since there were a few spare sets of coveralls in there. But she’d forgotten to tell him. Or at least she thought she’d forgotten, the whole thing had gotten hazy at the end there. Had he left and gotten new clothes? How had he managed that in such a short amount of time? And why were they only half on? There was still goo in his hair too, pushing the strands up at comical angles as it started to harden.

She wanted to trust him. She really truly did. Life was so much nicer that way. But this was far too important to leave to chance. So, as was her habit, Azrin turned back to the open panel and the control console inside, tapping into the system again to see timestamps from the ship’s chronometer. “I’m checking the time,” she muttered offhandedly as she heard Arven start moving again behind her. Everything was synced with the ship’s computer, every action had a timestamp, so if she started a routine diagnostic – also good because she’d screwed up these systems somehow – then it would tell her… “Plenty of time!”

Assured now that he wasn’t lying, Azrin turned back to the doctor, biting her lip as she thought it through. Her shoulder did hurt, and she did want it fixed, which was the whole point of being in sickbay in the first place. And he did promise, which meant something to her. “Ok… ok. But if you’re lying, the Great Bird of the Galaxy is going to eat you. Or it won’t roost on our planet. Or however the saying goes. Let’s go.”

They waited for a second. Then another. Then another. Azrin waited for him to lead the way, then eventually realized the situation. “You don’t know how to get back to sickbay from here, do you? Come on!” Since he was in the way, Azrin squeezed past him, starting back on the way up. “Don’t they make everyone learn the tube maps when they come on board a ship? Even people who don’t come in here. You know, for emergency evacuations and stuff?” When they reached the ladder, Azrin tried putting weight on her newly working arm and immediately regretted it, letting go with a hiss of pain. She made a rather awkward few decks climb without it instead. Going down had been far easier.

Once they were back on the right deck, Azrin took pity – on either herself or Arven, she wasn’t sure who at this point – and popped out into a corridor instead of taking the tubes all the way to the recovery ward. From there, it was a quick and easy walk back to sickbay. Only this meant that they came in through the front entrance, giving everyone inside a very good look at the two rumpled trills, one still sticky with goo, the other with a slightly bloody nose and covered in who knew what other grime from her past few days’ adventures.

“It’s probably a good thing you found some clothes,” she remarked idly, “Or this could have been really awkward.”

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #15
[LT Arven Leux | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
Violet eyes narrowed at the engineer as Arven hastily tucked in the teal undershirt, then fastened his belt. Just as his mouth opened to reply, Azrin continued, her tone suspicious and body language clearly defensive. The irony was, of the two of them, only one had nearly died at the hands of the other; Arven wasn’t sure if it would be wise to remind her of that fact, given her current mental state, but the temptation was so strong he had to clench his teeth through a tight, unpleasant smile.

“What,” Leux snorted, insulted at her insinuation, “if I told you what was wrong with you, would you listen? You haven’t cared to this entire time,” Arven shot back in mockery of her tone, then waved at his new attire with a sarcastic flourish. “I’m a bloody wizard,” he deadpanned, but didn’t bother explaining further – doubtful she’d even manage to pay attention.

When Ryn moved off to interface with another control console, Arven’s eyes widened in alarm and he rushed out of the tube intersection, hoping to escape whatever fresh hell the maniac had in store for him; cursing under his breath all the while. “Wait – what, whatever you’re -” the doctor pointed at her in a frantic tone. He didn’t relax when Azrin explained what she was doing, but released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding while trying to keep what little composure remained. Arven spread his hands with a brittle smile in a sure, why not gesture of forfeiture.

Once she was apparently satisfied that he had not deceived her – Arven rolled his eyes at the very idea, really – and turned back to him to issue what he could only assume was some manner of threat, the doctor merely blinked at her in confused annoyance. “What,” was all he could ask, still trying to figure out what the hell Azrin was talking about, as she looked at him expectantly. The two stood there like that for several awkward heartbeats, until Ryn came to the accurate conclusion that he didn’t have any idea where they were or how to get back. Arven blinked in complete confusion; he’d assumed they’d just teleport like perfectly sane people, but was clearly mistaken.

“What? Wait -” he began, only for Azrin to push past him. Arven flinched at the sudden movement and tried to open up space between them out of self-preservation, but only succeeded in cracking the back of his head into a bulkhead then half-tripping himself. The engineer proceeded apace to crawl off into the gloom without a backwards glance.

Arven rolled his eyes at her question, took a deep breath, and followed.

“Is this one of those emergency evacuation routes,” he asked rhetorically, knowing damn well it wasn’t – it was a random juncture of fate and poor decision that the universe and Azrin Ryn had conspired to create just for him. “If it isn’t it sure should be. I love it here,” he added between grunts of discomfort. “You know, next time there’s a red alert, I think I’ll come down to engineering and help out there – that’d be a hoot. You guys can take sickbay. It’ll be like opposite day,” Arven grumbled under his breath as he tried to keep up with her.

When they finally walked into sickbay’s reception area, Arven sighed out in relief, only for Azrin’s comment to be announced in front of everyone – including Kitty Ellison – perhaps the nosiest gossip-queen that he’d ever worked with. His cheeks burned, but Arven just graced the blonde nurse with a tight lipped smile and kept walking, leaning closer to Ryn. “A bit louder next time – I don’t think the folks in ICU heard you,” he whispered sarcastically, then waved her towards the Recovery Ward, attempting to ignore the looks and muted chuckles from the staff.

He let her enter first, then promptly made a bee-line for the nearest bed without bothering to direct her to one; Azrin had made it perfectly clear that whatever was going on in engineering was far more important than her health, and the attempt on his life and subsequent embarrassment in front of his peers had exhausted what little patience Arven had left. The doctor produced a clean hypo, dermal regenerator, and sanitation wipes from the closet, which were laid out on the bed. “How about some drugs,” Leux smiled pleasantly, picking up the hypo – which beeped quietly as he quickly programmed it. “Anti-inflammatory and pain suppressants,” he handed it to Azrin with a nod, “standard dose. By all means feel free to verify, then just pick a spot and press the magic button,” Arven deadpanned, then walked behind her to an adjacent closet to grab a tricorder. Device in hand, the doctor took another breath as he opened it and scanned her head quickly.

“Your nose isn’t broken, but it will swell and bruise if I don’t repair the damaged tissue,” he shrugged, then added “or, you can just pack it with those wipes – your call,” before the device passed over her shoulder. “Superficial sprain to the glenohumeral and coracohumeral ligaments. Most likely caused post-injury,” he added neutrally. “I’ll get you a DTR patch for it. Just a moment.”

The tricorder closed with a curt snap as Arven turned back to rummage through the closet, but kept Azrin in his peripheral vision just in case she decided to bash him over the head with a bedpan. “Ah, here we are,” he announced cheerfully, then set the device – which resembled a semi-malleable, adhesive bandage – on the bed, then reopened the tricorder above it. “Once these get synced up you can slap it on that shoulder,” Leux smiled at Ryn politely, “then go somewhere else.”

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #16
[ Lt. Azrin Ryn | Recovery Ward | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion
“What? I said that it could have been more awkward, and it’s not! That’s a good thing.” Through force of habit, Azrin had dropped her voice to match his whisper, though she wasn’t sure why. They didn’t need to whisper. “It can’t be the first time you’ve been surprise sprayed by a mysterious substance? You probably get the really gross stuff in sickbay too, at least most of the goop engineering has running through the ship isn’t a biohazard. Well, except for–” Belatedly, Azrin realized that he was already gone, waving her through the sickbay complex to an open door.

Once inside, Azrin groaned as she recognized it. There was nowhere more boring than the recovery ward. Last time they’d left her alone in here for hours and hours, her only visitors prickly nurses ordering her back into nothingness whenever she tried to entertain herself. What was so wrong with giving patients a PADD, or a puzzle, or anything mildly fun?

Now that Arven had agreed to her single stipulation – she had to be on duty at 0900 – and accepted that a day-long sedative wasn’t the treatment for a broken shoulder, Azrin had no problems at all following his instructions. She took the offered hypospray with a hint of confusion, as most doctors preferred to administer the dose themselves, then immediately perked up at the array of opportunities presented at the idea of injecting it anywhere. “Does it change the efficacy if you don’t do it on a major artery? The normal spot,” she waved the hypo vaguely over her neck, “versus somewhere like my forehead? Or little toe? What if I hypoed my tongue? Or does it just take longer to kick in that way? Can we test it? That would be fun! Someone has probably already tested it, but it would still be fun to recreate it.”

The doctor had gone off to do something else during Azrin’s tangent. By the time he was scanning her nose, she still hadn’t administered the first medication, too engrossed by the possibilities. The options he gave for her face did manage to break through her thoughts, because what kind of person would choose option B? “Why would we pack it when you can just fix it right now?” She stared at him, obviously and openly confused.

He really needed a shower, poor guy. He was taking it all far too seriously.

“What’s DTR stand for?” She asked, though not because she was planning on rejecting it. Azrin was already unzipping her coveralls, the hypospray dropped unceremoniously onto the biobed while she slowly worked her arm out of the sleeve. She tugged experimentally on the sleeve of her undershirt to see if the fabric stretched out of the way, decided it wasn’t enough, then pulled her arm through that sleeve too. Compared to Arven’s earlier nudity, Azrin wasn’t showing much. It looked more comical than anything, one side of her coveralls hanging down and half of her undershirt bunched around her neck. Her midriff, waist, half a bra, and a bare shoulder, presented as she twisted awkwardly to give him a place to stick the bandage to.

“And this!” Azrin snatched up the hypospray again, flashing him a grin. “Forehead or tongue?”

He might be holding a grudge, but she was already over it.

As long as he didn’t try to keep her from the slipstream drive again.

Re: PRO: S [D01|0500] Sleep is overrated, coffee is king

Reply #17
[LT Arven Leux | Jefferies Tubes | Deck 13 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @rae
Bleep, bleep, bleep.

Arven sighed, mostly to himself, and waited for the devices on the bed to sync up. His brows rose fractionally at Azrin's questions, but beyond a slight shift in weight from one foot to the other, the Doctor maintained his stoic, patient façade. “No. No. Nope,” he answered every question without hesitation in a dry, matter-of-fact tone – reasonably sure the engineer was attempting to tease him out of simple boredom – which was rather telling in and of itself. “Well, your tongue is a muscle, with veins and nerves and…,” he deadpanned, then ran a hand over his face instead of trying to talk over her. “Pretty sure it doesn’t matter where you stick yourself,” he sighed, shifting again, distracted by how sticky his skin felt. “Try an eyeball,” he deadpanned, then rolled his eyes. “Of course its been tested. Knock yourself out though,” he managed to smile almost pleasantly.

For someone who was so adamant about needing to be somewhere only moments ago, she seems awfully intent on wasting time with silly questions, Arven snorted. Nothing else seemed to hold Azrin’s attention for more than a few seconds, other than whatever flashy gizmo she seemed to be obsessed about in engineering.

 Hm, he blinked, musing.

The sudden idea to lock her in a holo program for total sensory deprivation dawned in his mind; just to see how quickly the engineer would lose her sanity. As intrusive thoughts went, Arven felt equal parts guilty and curious about it; of course he’d never do that…but it would be interesting and illuminating to observe the physical and psychological responses. After all, Azrin didn’t last over a minute in the ward without casting about for something to occupy her attention; which was oddly erratic, in an of itself. Of course, she’d probably find a way to hack the program or just find another tunnel to crawl into, a brow arched in annoyance. Better to just patch her up and send her on her way – maybe then I can get out of here and take a shower.

Arven glanced around the ward with a veiled frown of distain.No one enjoyed being here – the short list of hypochondriac crewmembers notwithstanding – so Arven didn’t begrudge Azrin for that; hell, he didn’t want her there either, if he was honest. He didn’t want anyone there; in a perfect world, he could spend his time doing what he felt he was best at – administrating – but what then would he administer? An empty hospital? No, he was a Doctor, for good or ill, and being a Doctor meant taking care of patients, even when they grated his nerves.

Still, he wondered how much of her fidgeting and lack of attentiveness was consciously driven or possibly a symptom of some neurological imbalance, or maybe Azrin was just too…extra.


Arven frowned at her next question and the confused expression on Azrin’s face, his train of thought interrupted. “You expressed disapproval in my manner earlier, and tried to kill me, so I’m offering you treatment options. Selfish self-preservation on my part,” he explained with a smile, then promptly nodded in agreement.

“Wonderful, this goes in there then,” he pointed at her nose, then wiggled the business end of a dermal regenerator up her nostril and hit a button with his thumb. “Hold that right there till it beeps,” he instructed, after the DTR whistled a merry tune. “Do try to hold it still.”

Arven turned around again  to finish calibrating it briefly, his back to her. Deep Tissue Regenerator, Patch. It’s a field dressing, essentially. Slower, a bit outdated, but it will suffice in your case,” Arven explained. Do engineers use acronyms, he wondered briefly, then shrugged. Probably just insufficient impulse control. Hm. May be something there to look into as well.

When he turned around, Arven flinched at the sight of Azrins attempt to undress, while comically trying to keep the regenerator in her nose. She obviously assumed he needed bare skin for the DTR, which of course was silly. He couldn’t help but smirk at her struggle, even as he started to stop her, but then changed his mind and just watched until she finished.

“What are you doing,” he frowned at her, then held up the bandage, complete with straps. It was clearly designed to work over clothing or other bandages. Arven sighed again, then pulled the regenerator out of her nose with a soft pluck just as it beeped to signal the end of its cycle. The Doctor casually flicked a string of red-tinted snot onto her overalls with a dismissive grunt before setting it aside.

Arven’s head tilted at her experimental request with a brow raised, then rolled his eyes quickly.  “Okay fine; tongue out, say ‘Ah’,” he requested flatly as he took the hypo. As soon as Azrin complied, Arven raised it just above the tip of her tongue. “Right, on three,” he sighed, then jabbed it into the thin vertical vein in the middle of her forehead instead. “Ta da,” Arven flashed a smile and twirled the hypo between his fingers. “Yay, science! Good fun,” he cheered sarcastically, then tossed the hypo onto the bed and grabbed the bandage wrap for her shoulder.

“Now then, if I put this on your skin the adhesive will cause some minor irritation when you peel it off…or…you can,” he waved at her, “pull yourself together. I didn’t tell you to take that off anyway, you know. Up to you - just giving options,” he explained casually, then scooped up the tricorder again to make a quick pass over her ratty, copper colored hair.

“Shampoo works, you know,” he muttered distractedly, blinking rapidly at the results.

“I’m also recommending a stimulant to keep you up and functional for the remainder of the day, or at least until the…whatever it is in engineering… is concluded,” he shrugged, still completely nonchalant. “Caffeine clearly isn’t doing enough, judging by the concentrations in your blood. Oh, before I forget,” he winced a little, “full disclosure, I took the liberty of informing Chief Arnold of your status while you were asleep, by the way.”

But Azrin’s attention had drifted off somewhere in the middle of his spiel, so Arven snapped his fingers to redirect her. “Hi there,” he smiled pleasantly. “Bandage – skin or clothes, and stims – yes or no,” he repeated slowly.

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