Last post by Griff -
[PO3 Lillee t'Jellaieu | Main Shuttlebay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Stegro88
Well, there was little that Lillee could say to that. Awkward though she felt, Lillee did at least feel a grudging admiration for the girl's motivation and goals. Ironically, she mused that Samala would fit in well with the idealists of the Federation, even if she didn't know it yet. She just needed a chance. Yet more irony: a time of war and darkness could well mean a shining opportunity for Samala, assuming the girl didn't murder a shipmate or two along the way.
"You can start the warp trials now," Lillee finally said, breaking the silence. "We'll start with adjusting the warp core's intermix flux, then rapid warp acceleration and deceleration maneuvers, deformation of the warp field for small turns to port and starboard, then an emergency warp stop when we get to the star system." For the first time, Lillee leaned forward, working her own board and making it mimic Samala's to oversee her work. "Start whenever you like, but keep the intermix flux below three millicochranes. These type 9's can really handle a flux of up to five, but the regulations say three when not flying in an emergency. I like Starfleet, but by the Elements, they can be such ninnies about these things."
Last post by Griff -
[PO3 Lillee t'Jellaieu | Shuttlecraft Higgs (NX-79854/03) | Epsilon Mynos System ] Attn: @Brutus
Maneuvering the shuttle was easy enough, even for nudging forward in increments of centimeters, leaving Lillee with little to do. She waited for Stark to do her work, forcing herself to relax. Lillee had flown endless patrols in fighters without her nerves cracking, not to mention flying the Allegiant for hours on end in the Azure Nebula, when they had been expecting to meet a Borg cube at any moment. By comparison, this was child's play, the threat far more mild.
Right up until a warbird full of Tal Shiar decloaks and captures us....again.
When Stark finally isolated the anomaly, it oddly helped. Lillee leaned forward, frowning through the viewport. With a deft touch, she rotated the shuttle up until the 'top' of the craft was nearly parallel with the relay. The open panel was now quite literally within touching distance of the two women, if not for the thin viewport that separated them from hard vacuum.
"Impressive," Lillee said quietly, looking directly up and examining the open panel. "I have never seen anything like this...camouflage? Sensor masking?" She glanced down at sensors again for a long moment, examining the readouts with a paranoid eye, before glancing at a separate sensor readout of the relay. "The Tal Shiar had a team here at one point, but the Klingons killed them weeks ago. Besides, if Romulans did this, we would never have identified the sabotage..."
Lillee bit her lip, not liking their ignorance. She was a simple pilot, and as a rule, she despised professional mysteries. Social mysteries, such as Stark's potential feelings for her friend, were fun. Professional mysteries such as this, however, far too often led to panic, screaming and mild cases of death, all of which Lillee found quite inconvenient.
"We could tow the relay back to the ship," she suggested mildly, glancing at Stark, flicking a strand of blonde hair behind an ear. "Otherwise, we'll need to go out there to repair it. We do have EVA suits."
[Lt. Vanya| Boardwalk | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attm @Brutus
Vanya went back to her fork and began to pile it with more of the fish. She shrugged casually as Nat asked her about her past
"Not really. The one time I ate real food I was on assignment. It was poultry. Most of the time I was instructed to consume nutritional supplements to keep our hair and skin optimal. They were particularly engineered for us, lots of oils and vitamin chains, imagine cardboard blended with pond water, and then a chemical supressent to take away any good taste and you have a nice glass of NS-74."
A smile crossed Vanya's lips as she remembered a few moments of stolen childhood during her training.
"My creator, T'Vrella used to bring me candy, she convinced her masters it was to test my taste matrix, but I'm sure it was an act of rebellion."
It was a complicated relationship between Vanya and her "mother" so much of her that was "real" didn't have to be, yet she did so much for her. She taught her about the Federation, kept the "core" Romulan programming that defined her out of her core. Without her she may have been soulless killing machine, or destroyed.
No, Vanya thought, this is time for what is, and what will be, not what might have been.
"What about you, any acts of rebellion in your youth?" she asked, wondering what the formative Nat was like.
[ Lieutenant Ayden Tyre | Medical Canteen/Breakroom | Deck 11 "The Sword" Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan
Ayden nodded as he followed Amelya into the breakroom, "well much happened while we were at Aldea so it wasn't really a rest." He added, and once seated Ayden nearly fell asleep the moment he leaned back.
It took several moments to recall that Ameyla had asked what he wanted to eat and drink. "Tyre-meal-5, thank you." He replied, the order was a large apple flavoured energy drink and two protein bars, unwrapped on a plate while the energy drink would be in a can.
He hoped his programming was good enough for Thea to make them all tasty. "Oh and a sweet raktajino," he added several moments later.
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Upper Gymnasium | Deck 06 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Argyros
True enough, an ache had only just begun to settle in for the spy as this was the fifth consecutive opponent he'd yet faced, and that was after having already exerted himself rather headily with a bout of strenuous weight-training. All of this had been an effort to try and round himself back into what he considered 'shape'; clearly however, it wasn't as if he had been out of it in any realistic way. Maybe a step or to slower than usual, but in comparison to most men his age, he was still far beyond average. Still, all of that didn't necessarily matter as he was approaching a point in which he would desperately need to take a break and catch his breath. Maybe even a little cold water to drink, and a refreshingly hot shower to sting away the ache in his muscles; it was a wonderous thought, but if anything it was a distraction which would only serve to drop his guard, and allow Veradin the opportunity to seize the initiative.
...and seize the initiative the Trill did...
It was supposed to be a simple wayward jab, meant to further the assault and drive Derik toward a turnbuckle where Fisher could press on with a series of haymakers, but the jab was captured after it had been telegraphed by the spy. What resulted was a flurry of motion that surprised the sage-eyed man and caused him to feel his momentum being used against him. And as the world suddenly spun around him, he was firmly thrown down onto the mat. The heavy impact stunned him momentarily, and a surge of ache ran down the length of his shoulder blades into the base of his surgically repaired back. Before he had any chance, or even any mind to try and recover, Derik had pressed on the attack and flipped Fisher over so that he lay on his ventral side. Worse still, the Junior Lieutenant had locked in a vice which wrenched an arm behind his back and had propped a knee rather convincingly against Fisher's shoulder blades, pinning him in unmoving in place. Even if Fisher had another hundred-pounds of muscle to him, and he was ten-years younger, he still wouldn't have been able to escape the sudden blitz-play that Veradin had unleased.
Then came a pair of blows against his left-arm that eliminated every last counter that he could have possibly mustered, leaving his bicep numbed.
On a deep groaning escaped him as the pin was set in. Though, Fisher still wasn't one to relent so quickly, even if it was an inevitability at this point. He still needed to at least put in a cursory effort in escaping, regardless of the overall futility. Especially now that a chorus of cheers erupted outside of the ring, calling for the spy to give up. To tap. The taunting actually stung worse than the physical pain, even if Fisher knew that he'd already made a good portion of those doing the taunting to submit to him. "Shit!" he exclaimed aloud, his legs bending in an attempt to find some form of leverage beneath him, but there wasn't enough leeway given to allow such a contortion of his lower-back, even if it hadn't been so weakened by years of deterioration. Derik had just made something of a perfect move and capitalized on that one little lapse in focus that Fisher had let up. The fight was all but over now, it was just dependent on how utterly stubborn Fisher would be with regards to submitting.
And after a minute, it was reaching the point of absurdity, as even the peanut-gallery had let their jeers die down ever so slightly. Yet Fisher, sensing the pity for him as it began to settle in, hated that sentiment worse than surrender.
"Alright! Alright!" he blurted out, his free-hand pounding awkwardly against the mat so as to signal his acquiescence.
[ Lt. JG Kate Foster | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Shandala
From the onset, Kate had found herself somewhat intrigued by Alessia. There was the outward simplicity that everyone tried to espouse, so as to seem like they weren't dealing with their own internal demons; that they were perfect beings among a vast ocean of imperfect ones. But the truth was that Kate had always found herself more interested in those who didn't hide their imperfections. She vastly preferred people whose complexities could mirror, or even outweigh her own. It was why she hadn't opted to hide her own from the world, instead letting the tell-tale sign of an addiction to narcotics be outwardly visible due to the exotic hue of her eyes. She couldn't deny or forget her past. It had played an integral part in making the woman that she was, and either people would learn to accept that part of her past, or they wouldn't, and she would need them in her life. She of course reciprocated the same consideration to anyone else, recognizing their flaws, but not focusing on them, or holding those flaws against that which made someone interesting.
"Romance novels? Yeah, I guess you could say I do." Kate admitted, though it had been quite sometime since she'd been through any that were worthy of note, but she did have something of an affinity for them, even if they were cheesy at times. For a moment she even considered which had been the last one she'd experienced, only for her attention to shift back to Garcia as she pressed on with a rather amusing anecdote about the state of her quarters, and a relatively subtle hint that she would be interested at maybe getting together again for something a little akin to an actual date. The suggestion caused the nervousness in Kate's belly to flare up again as she followed after her guide. It'd been almost a year since she'd last been on anything which resembled a date, and that realization made her suddenly feel rather woefully pathetic. "I might like that, yeah." She said softly as she stepped into the turbolift with Alessia, finding herself genuinely excited at the prospect of getting to know her a little more, and what had prompted such a cute little saunter in the pilot's stride. A saunter which Kate found herself admiring a little more intently than she should have, but she couldn't control the manner in which she appreciated Alessia's fit and firm figure.
"Deck sixteen, huh? I'm on Deck eight." She absently stated after Alessia, so as to break-up a bout of prolonged silence when the turbolift began to move.
A silence when was nearly deafening for the Doctor as her gracious host, patient, and guide extended a hand to return the tuft of asymmetrical blonde hair that had slipped freely from behind her ear once more. The gesture caught Kate by surprise, but not in an unwarranted or unwelcome manner. Instead she found herself smiling a little more brightly at the gentle touch, and how it had sparked an electrical response which surged throughout her lithe body. There was a clear-cut attraction that Kate found herself struggling with, as she recognized that there was a level of professionalism which she needed to afford the situation and Alessia, but at the same time she didn't feel as if she were abusing her status as Alessia's Doctor, or crossing the line of Doctor-Patient protocol. At least she hadn't yet, anyway. She could continue to cast wayward glances at the beautiful vixen that had stolen her away from Sickbay for a momentary reprieve. And while others would have felt a need to break-up the agonizing silence that pervaded them, Kate was more than content to let the sweet moment settle in more fully.
In fact, she was happy to enjoy Alessia's alluring company.
Last post by Brutus -
[ Ens. Faye Lintah Eloi-Danvers | Aldean Spa and Resort|Aldea Prime] ] Attn: @Nesota Kynnovan [Show/Hide]
Few people taxed Faye's patience quite so thoroughly as L'Nari did. The bad blood between them from the Academy had bubbled and boiled back up to the surface some three years later when they found themselves in close proximity to each other on the Theurgy. Out of sight, out of mind was all well and good. Finding herself forced to work with the Caitian again was another story entirely. She supposed that she had hoped, on some level, that time would have eased the tension between the two of them. Unfortunately, it appeared that the rivalry was simply dormant. Almost like an allergic reaction; once Faye was exposed to L'Nari again (and vice versa), the discontented emotions rose to the top.
Perhaps it was like riding a bicycle - you never really forget how. And Faye never really moved past her past with the other Attaché.
Thus, even though the woman's request (demand, really) to take a shower was perfectly reasonable, Faye's first impulse was to tell her to suck it up and hall her fuzzy ass back to the ship pronto. She could shower there, after all. Time was of the essence, and Faye was going to be damned if she got left behind because little miss 'decided-to-get-fucked-right-before-the-ship-left' wanted to powder her nose and freshen up. It was tempting to try and force the issue, to see if L'Nari would hold her ground or cave. Faye would leave her then, if it had come to it, she'd not let the Cait strand her here as well, even if she was apparently willing to risk it to haul her butt back to the ship (she had to try and make things easier for her new boss, after all, or, gods help her, she might be put in charge again).
But there were some lines that one did not cross. And in truth, telling the walking oil slick she had to wait wasn't going to be a winning argument. So she crossed her arms over her chest and jerked her head toward the door that she knew would lead to the showers in a silent gesture for L'Nari to hurry her ass up and get to it. The Cait stalked right over, and Faye could very easly feel the anger and agitation that was directed solely at Faye. Not just because she'd interrupted the girl in the middle of what would have otherwise been a lovely massage (and Faye would know, having frequented the place). There was the deeper anger at Faye's word choice and for a small moment, she almost regretted it.
And that regret vanished the moment L'Nari tried to intimate Faye. The problem with intimidating a telepath was that you had to really, really mean it. Now, Faye wasn't actively probing, but the second the other Diplomat made an outright threat, instinct kicked in, and she tried to verify. And got some mixed results. She puffed herself up as best she could (which wasn't much, Faye was a lover, not a fighter) and rolled her eyes, trying for an unphased reaction. "If you were going to do that it would have happened years ago. Now hurry up and hit the sonics. We don't have all day."
At least she managed not to tack on the word 'kitten' at the end of it all. She thought it, really, really loud though.
[ Lt. JG Kate Foster | Surgical Suite 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Masorin
That's all it had taken for Kate and her team to repair the deep lacerations to poor Vivian Martin's anterior spinal artery, but during that process it had become evidently apparent that the injuries she had sustained, had placed her in the midst of precariously tenuous situation. As even though her blood-pressure had gradually begun to normalize in the wake of having completed the extensive repairs to her spine's vascular system, it was soon discovered that several of the artificial vertebrae which had encapsulated the majority of her spinal cord had sustained compound fractures. It was these fractures, that had combined with the temporary lack of consistent blood flow and caused a marked decline in the vitality of said spinal cord. As it was, they couldn't fore-cast what kind of deteriorated state her motor senses would be in as a result, as she was decidedly unconscious and likely needed to remain so; but it was likely that she would have found herself with severely weakened sensation below her midsection, if she felt any sensation at all. Worse still, the only remedy afforded to the Theurgy's medical staff in terms of healing her injuries, would take a length of time that they didn't have.
Simply put, Vivi's injuries were too grand in scope to be healed in any kind of immediate time-frame.
It was a revelation that Kate and the entirety of her staff had each come to in abject silence; each of them sensing what was abundantly clear, and the necessary steps that would need to be taken in order to have any hope at preserving the woman's life. It would of course fall on Kate to make the ultimate decision to cease active medical attention, and opt for placing Vivian into cryo-stasis, but to her she felt it necessary to appraise the other Martin sibling of the matter first. She imagined that if the situation were one which reflected her own sibling relationship with Stellan, that she would have likely wanted to be approached with the ultimate decision as to how to proceed on the matter. That there was an air of responsibility that all siblings assumed when grave realities came to fruition, and that to deny Vivian's brother such consideration would have been wholly inappropriate.
"Courtland... prep her, would you?" She looked to the Ensign as he nodded solemnly, understanding what she meant. He'd need to apply a series of sub-dermal regenerators to Vivian's spinal column, so that she could continue to heal even during cryostasis. With an exasperated sigh, Kate stepped away from the SSR upon which the unconscious woman laid, affording the beautiful features of her face a momentary appraisal before nodding in silent acquiescence to what fate had dictated.
[ Main Sickbay Waiting Lobby | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
"Lieutenant Martin?" Kate spoke softly as she approached the clearly distraught man while he sat upon the carpeted deck-plating. The waiting lobby of Main Sickbay was packed to say the least, as there were dozens of friends, colleagues, and significant others waiting expectantly for any news of the condition of their loved-ones. Some where crying, others seemed stuck in a state of shock and awe, and yet others seemed as though they were trying as best as possible to be invisible to it all. That they could sink away and hide from the harshness of the world which had harangued them this evening. For his part, Salem seemed to fall within the third group, though there may have also been a mixture of the other mental states plaguing his mind. Kate could only imagine the horrors that were running through his consciousness, as she had been spared such a stark revelation due to her absence from Stellan's life.
"Salem?" She spoke his given name softly as she stepped closer, her delicate hands finding an uneasy position behind the small of her back as she gently dropped down to kneel before him.
"Salem, I'm Doctor Foster. I'm the surgeon that was working on your sister, Vivian." There was a tenderness to her voice, as she clearly wanted only Salem to be privy to the details that she was going to be providing. She hated delivering bad news to good people, but it was simply a part of her job. In this case, it wasn't necessarily the worst news that she could give, but it was damned near close. In a sense, being stuck in ambiguity was worse, because you couldn't rightfully go through the stages of mourning. Instead it left you resigned to wait, which could be excruciating. "Your sister's condition is..." she hesitated a moment in order to search for the right term, which wouldn't be misleading in one way, or the other. "...tenuous. She's stable for the moment, but I'm afraid the damage to her vertebral prosthesis was extensive." She waited to see if the man was absorbing any of what she was saying thus far, her exotic tangerine-hued eyes scanning the handsome features of his face.
In a sense, he reminded her of Stellan, though there was no feeling of abject disdain for him, as there was for her own brother.
Last post by Swift -
[ Lt. JG Kate Foster | Battle Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Aharon
"Thank you, Vinata." She acknowledged the skillful assistance that the Ovri represented. Unlike many Doctors who would often times be overly pious in regard to the healing process, Kate was more than aware of the fact that effective medicine, more often than not came under the stewardship of Nurses. Sure, it was Doctors who would diagnose, write the scripts, and perform the big parts of an operation; as was her case in the moment, but it was the Nurses who kept close watch of the patient, and ensured that their needs were being met, be it however innocuous or vital those needs were; as was Vinata's case. Plus, Kate knew that pissing off your Nurses by disrespecting them, didn't lend you any favors down the line when it came to getting tests, or minor procedures done; effectively killing what little time a Doctor might have to take care of other matters themselves. There was also the added sentiment that they all existed on the same side of one team, and they would be most effective when working in concert, rather than unilaterally.
Of course, there were also moments when a good Nurse would be well-worth their weight in latinum, as was Vinata was proving so now. As rather thankfully, the Ovri was more studious in his nature than Kate had been, as evidenced by his impressive fore-knowledge of how Klingon culture might have viewed a medical procedure which other cultures were sometimes embarrassed or even outright opposed to. It was the kind of information that was most fortuitous, as it allowed them both a temporary and long-term solution for their patient's woes. Fortune soon seemed to take an even greater turn in their favor, as there finally came a rush of gold-collared security personnel into the modestly small battle sickbay. They immediately began to shuffle the disruptive Klingons away from the surgical suite, beckoning them to wait just outside in the hallway, and calming the commotion which had proved a minor distraction, but a distraction all the same. With a sigh, Kate peered up at Vinata with a sense of relief.
"About time." She commented under her breath, affording her amphibian colleague a bit of a snarky little smirk.
Organ growth would take time, and it was evident that indeed Kate would opt for regenerating a portion of the Klingon's lower-bowel so that they could later transplant it into him, but for now they could settle on removing the damaged tissue, and ensure proper drainage of any produced waste via stoma and a temporary colostomy. "Hopefully, we can explain to his... friends... that he'll make a full recovery, but that for now he'll be saddled with a temporary... umm, impairment? I guess we can, like... we can probably pose it as having wanted to keep him ready to fight. Or something like that." Kate was talking her way through a plan as she began to clamp and section off the portion of the Klingon's bowel that had sustained the three re-ruptures, which in turn wound up being nearly 20 centimeters in length. "Courtland! Grab me the organ regeneration matrix, yeah?" Kate asked of the young handsome Ensign just as he'd returned to the interior of surgical suite; his time spent fending off the disruptive Klingons having finally come to an end.
"Good thing you have a better rapport with Klingons than I do." She remarked, clearly intent on engaging in a measure of pleasant small-talk. "I've been fending off their grubby hands for like, two months now. So..." Kate paused a moment as she cut an incision in the left side of the Klingon's abdomen, which would serve as the port for a stoma. "...what do you like to do, Vinata?"
"When you're not reading papers regarding Klingon Battlefield Medical Interventions?" she added, listening as the soft-voiced Ovri spoke.
A moment later, Courtland returned once more, only this time with the strange cart-like device that was an Organ Regeneration Matrix, or ORM. With two transparent chambers atop it, filled with a semi-transparent viscous liquid, and a each capped with a rather complex lid of sorts. It was obvious what he needed to do next, and so Courtland opened one of the chamber lids as he position the ORM next to where Kate was standing. An ORM, was an advanced tissue growth stimulator, which would create a micro-cellular matrix of whatever tissue was deposited into it. From there it would analyze and correct any tissue damage it could detect and begin to duplicate a near perfect replica in the adjacent chamber. Developed by the Starfleet Medical Institute on Bolarus IX, they had only just recently become standard-issue aboard Starfleet vessels within the last five-years. Prior to their implementation, the process could still be undertaken, but it required much more in-depth work, and took a far more substantial amount of time.
Carefully, Kate removed the section of damaged bowel from her patient and spun to her right so as to gently let it sink to the bottom of the semi-transparent liquid, which was gradually stained red with the color of Klingon blood. Once place within, Kate withdrew her hands and let the Ensign close shut the chamber lid and actuated its console to begin the analysis process. "How long?" she asked as she went back to working on the unconscious Klingon, her crimson-coated hands diving back into his open abdominal cavity as she went about feeding the remaining portion of large-intestine to her recently made incision, only to retrieve a micro-suture tool with which she could properly adhere the new orifice in the form of a colostomy stoma. The complexity of the tissue or organ in question would often dictate how long it would take the computer system to record its cellular structure, repair it, and regrow it. She of course hoped for something within reason, otherwise their temporary solution would end up being something far more permanent.
"Uhh... nine-hours forty-three minutes." Courtland answered.
"Once we've got him patched up and stabilized, we'll get him moved to the ICU while we wait for the tissue to finish regeneration. Then we can gut... sorry, cut him open again, and make the transplant." Seemingly comfortable with how her temporary stoma was situated, Kate looked up to Vinata as it to gauge his thoughts on the matter. "Since he's your guy, I'll leave it to you to decide if you want to assist with that part of the procedure too. My guess is, I'll need the help anyway; since the rest of the Surgical team is busy with other operations." Kate waited a moment to ensure that the stoma was secure enough before she accepted the colostomy collection pouch as it was handed to her and attached it to the freshly minted stoma. Once in place, she unclamped the bowel on the underside of his stomach skin and was about to move onto the next phase of the operation: closing him up.
"You want to close hum up, Vinata?" she asked, looking to see if the Ovri would be interested in taking the lead from here.