Star Trek: Theurgy

Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

October 03, 2019, 02:27:54 PM

Cell Block Tango
Stardate: 57571.49
Monday the 16th of March 2381

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

Elro couldn’t help but palm a grimace upon his face.

If he had been a pettier man, he’d have blamed Nurse Jones and her jovial little humming for his suffering; Elro had spent the better part of the evening, undertaking a medical inventory audit with the culprit in question, and throughout the duration of their entire task, she had softly hummed to herself an especially buoyant variety of tunes. Her tones were pleasant, and the tunes not disruptive, so he had allowed her to proceed without comment.

Yet, he had failed to factor in that several hours later, when they were finally completing the audit, a great number of rhythms from those same tunes had become lodged in his own mind, and nothing was more unappealing to the Betazoid than the idea of trying to enjoy a quiet evening with a nameless jumble of musical tracks rattling around within his brain. He’d asked the Nurse where they were from, as the pair had made a move towards the Arboretum Cafe, on Elro’s suggestion, for an evening meal and a wind-down from a long day of numerical sequences.

She’d been more than happy to tell him [i[all[/i] about a delightful section of the 1970’s in the cultural database, and had provided him with sterling recommendations towards the soundtrack of a televised spectacle known as Grease. He’d spent far too much time shamelessly learning the words to each and every song in his quarters that evening, certainly in need of some frivolity following his uncomfortable time interrogating Doctor Nicander that afternoon, but his sleep had sorely suffered for it. And even if he’d woken up in a spectacularly chipper mood, considering a bad night of sleep, events had only declined from there.

His hair had not been agreeable.

He’d spent far too long trying to tame it, and was almost not-early for his shift in sickbay that morning. His usual tidy sweep was considerably more unruly than he’d idealised, and whilst it didn’t look bad, he certainly felt uncomfortable seeing patients with it at twice its usual volume and looking as though he was heading out for an evening of romantic pursuits on the holodeck. Only Nurse Jones commented, which he’d have expected, but he was still mortified that anyone had noticed.

And to make matters worse still, he had a grim undertaking on his to-do list that he simply couldn’t put off any longer.

Their infested prisoner was due a medical evaluation.

The thought of the man whipped Elro’s usually calm blood into a proverbial boil. It wasn’t just his deceitfulness, nor his lack of professionalism, nor his smugness, nor his arrogance, nor his unhelpfulness, nor his unending word-babbles, nor the way he had referred to Elro as ‘Mister’ like a juvenile… Elro sighed into his hand. He was already flustered enough about the concept of seeing the man without having even reached the Brig. He didn’t know how he’d survive the day.

"Good luck, Mister Kobol . Please give my old staff my regards.”

Nicander’s words from their encounter yesterday had still made the Betazoid feel uncomfortable to his core. Elro had relayed no-such message, and nor did he intend to.

Elro found the man repugnant.

His deceitfulness had risked the lives of countless patients whom had been under his care. In Elro’s mind, it was enough of a case of malpractice that the man should have been stripped of all of his rights to practice medicine on the spot. That Nicander had the gaul to request that his successor would subject his staff to further discomfort, at the reminder that the Câroon had once been their superior, was sickening indeed.

He didn’t need to be a Betazoid to know that when the name Nicander surfaced in hushed conversations, the emotional repercussions were almost exclusively unpleasant. That Elro had been a Betazoid, only gave him a sickening glimmer that the Câroon seemed to have no respect for the example he should have set as a senior officer regarding his sexual promiscuity. The example he had set as Chief Medical Officer no-less! Elro had half a mind to add sexual health screening as part of the mandatory evaluations he had been trying to arrange for the whole crew compliment before they departed the Aldean shipyards.

Damned if the crew didn’t seem to require it.

It was reckless and carnal. Even the Orion whom Elro had noticed in sickbay several times that week had seemed to possess more restraint than the Câroon who’d been in charge of the health and wellbeing than the entire crew. Elro decided that he was relieved that the salvation for sentient life was now at least counseled by a Chief Medical Officer whom had the ability to exercise control over his own carnality.

Elro may have been young, and less experienced, perhaps more in need of the advice of older and more practiced colleagues… But he was neither reckless nor deceitful, and that was something that the Betazoid could not say for the Câroon.

He had, in one brief mire of displeasure, considered assigning the task of giving Nicander a proper medical evaluation to another member of staff, knowing that it didn’t specifically call for the expertise of their current department head. But the vast majority of the medical team had served under Nicander during his stint as Chief Medical Officer, and witnessed his undignified falling in said posting. It was entirely inappropriate to subject anyone to such an unenviable task, Elro had decided as soon as he considered it. 

Besides, from their encounter a few days ago during their interrogation, Nicander had presented himself as… Difficult. Elro was hardly a Vulcan in his emotional sensibility, but he was far more hesitant to accept things on face value than some of the other species he’d come to know. His suspicions were only further amplified for an individual whom was both entirely invulnerable to his telepathy, and possessed of a track record for subterfuge. Elro would have been shirking his responsibilities to the welfare of the crew if he had asked someone else to conduct the medical check-up in his stead; Nicander was cunning like a rodent and would no-doubt have few qualms about manipulating someone’s sympathy for his own gain.

It would be unpleasant, but Elro would endure.

If he needed to take an extended lunch and listen to Grease in his quarters whilst eating replicated cream cakes to recover, so be it.

As Elro caught his reflection in a console as he neared the entrance to sickbay, grimacing as he noticed how ‘jazzed-up’ he appeared, running a hand through the unruly style in an attempt to placate it. It failed. His thick hair simply followed Elro’s fingers to an apex, before stilling themselves as the crest of a wave upon his head. He looked ridiculous, as though he was some holodeck romance character, but he didn’t dare interfere with it once again, at risk of distressing the sullen coiffure any further.

Instead, he continued moving through the hallways, pretending to input information on his PADD to avoid making eye contact, before he swung a left into the security centre. The checks were pleasingly thorough, but as he approached the doors to Nicander’s cell, he couldn’t help but feel mired with unease. His thumbs grazed at the edges of his trusty tricorder, and he politely and begrudgingly reminded the two guards flanking him that even as a prisoner, under Starfleet guidelines, Nicander was still subject to doctor-patient confidentiality.

As he stepped into the chamber that had felt so crowded just the other day, Elro felt as though the space would swallow him up. He almost wished he had Ducote or Hathev with him as a reaffirming source of attention to distract Nicander whilst Elro performed his checks and escaped as swiftly as possible…

“Good Morning Mister Nicander…” Elro politely greeted, never one to let his sense of disgust for another cloud his common courtesy… Much… “With your permission, I’d like to perform a routine medical examination just to make sure that everything is in order.” He believed his tone was as confident and reassuring as it would have been with any patient. Elro wasn’t fearful of the man in the cell; they were under constant surveillance and he could send out a telepathic distress call to half of the deck if things came to that…

“And, I'm sure you’ll be relieved to hear, for once, this is just about your health and wellbeing. I have no time for interdimensional parasites this morning.” The Betazoid felt very displeased with himself… Of course he had to have made an awkward attempt at humour… Elro could practically feel Ducote’s amusement at his junior’s disjointed social skills. Not having his telepathy made Elro feel especially uncomfortable.

But he assured himself that he would be fine.

The difficulty would be remaining civil through what he was sure would prove to be a particularly grueling consultation.

By the Four Deities would he need an eclair after…

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #1 – October 08, 2019, 06:38:53 PM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

Having finished his exercise, which was a routine well suited for his sealed confinement, Doctor Lucan cin Nicander had his back towards his visitor - barechested and dewy with perspiration. His breathing had yet to settle, and his dark hair was a little bit more unkempt than usual after his workout. It would seem that his successor thought himself best suited to make a check-up, which was not very surprising.

"The winds be with you... Lieutenant," he said, the choice of title made with a small smirk as he turned around - pointing out how the more junior officer had erred. "I am not sure what you believe the conditions of my incarceration are, or what right you think you have to try and belittle me, but even if you fail to recognise my doctorate... I am still your superior officer."

Oh, how that might irk the Betazoid. Perhaps more than the lack of means to violate his mind.

"Indeed," he said and sauntered up to the forcefield, "I am in this cell as a means of protecting you and the rest of the crew, because I carry an alien condition that - if provoked - makes me dangerous... but that doesn't make me less of a Starfleet officer. In fact, I even got a new uniform to replace the damaged one I had, so shouldn't this tell you that I am no less a victim... and someone who will be cured at some point - the winds allow it."

Giving the Betazoid a false smile... it faded rather quickly. "You already know what Câroon think of your abilities, so don't make me like you less because you fail to observe proper rank or title too. I suggest you start over, and call me Commander... if you insist on trying to be friendly with me. You really are not fooling anyone with your humour."

He remained where he stood, allowing for the Betazoid to scan him as best as he might. If he wanted to use the oculus device, Lucan would suffer that as well, until these thinly veiled pleasantries ended, and someone actually came to cure his condition.

What right does this pretty man have to judge me? thought Lucan and gave Elro Kobol  a once-over. He has no idea what I have seen, what it has mad me do...and what the Theurgy crew was prepared to do to me.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #2 – October 24, 2019, 04:04:22 PM

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

Elro desperately fought off the clawing need to turn heel and abandon the Brig, the entire Deck even… Apparently even his woeful forsight on how the meeting was likely to turn out did little to prepare him for the Câroon and his insufferable smugness. The man was abhorrent, sauntering around his cell with a sweat glistened torso as though Elro would, in some strange reality, find his state of uncleanliness difficult to resist…

And his words, his constant vocal demands for superiority, bleating like a neglected sheep… The Betazoid didn’t miss the way that Nicander spoke Elro’s title as though it was some sort of insult, going as far as to wielding the gaul to present himself as the superior officer. Nor did Elro miss the thinly veiled threats of provocation and danger. And nor, of course, did Elro disregard the blatant xenophobia that dripped out of his curled lips.

“Firstly, Sir…” Elro began, opting to demonstrate an elevated level of formality in response to his predecessor's abrasive cheek, but also not dignifying the man’s repugnant little smirk with obedience. His mannerisms were non-befitting a Starfleet Officer. “I would like to point out that whilst your duty-rank of Lieutenant Commander does indeed supersede my own…” Elro spoke softly, and made his best efforts not to let any hardness show through in his tone. He even mentioned the Câroon's rank, in effort to appease him.  “As I am the current serving Chief Medical Officer aboard the USS Theurgy, please correct me if I am wrong, but I believe that as your department head, you would be reporting to myself, were you not in this cell.”

It was perhaps bordering on the petty side, and Elro was the first to admit it. But he couldn’t say he it didn’t grant him a small twinge of satisfaction.

“Furthermore, if you wish for me to hold you in the same high regard that you seem to reviere yourself in, I would suggest that you temper your blatant xenophobia.” Elro took the second point off of his list. “I understand that a lot of Federation cultures whom weave their culture with mistruth, do have reservations about telepathic species…” The Betazoid tilted his chin and bore his dark eyes into the Câroon’s blues. “But you of all people have to admit, given your circumstances, that dishonesty affords little merit in the grand scheme of things.”

He took a moment to allow the Câroon to absorb his words, but spoke again before the man could interject with some irrelevant spiel that Elro would no doubt rant to Ducote at some point in the future.

“Now, my presence here today is not in the interest of friendliness. I have no expectations that you would ever seek a friend in a younger officer from a different vessel who supperceded your duty…” Elro didn’t say it, but the emasculation was implied. He was perhaps a little cattish towards his predecessor, but the man was insufferably riling and Elro hadn’t said anything openly offensive or disparaging, and his expression had remained expressively neutral. He had not lowered himself to the Câroon’s smirking level. “However, I take my duties as a Medical Officer seriously, and as long as you are aboard this ship, I will afford you the same level of care that I would any other member of the crew.”

And then, he approached the point in the conversation that required the Betazoid to shelve any semblance of bitchiness.

“My intention is to enter your cell in order to conduct a thorough medical examination, by the Four Deities, it is due course for you to receive one.” Elro let out a soft breath, the ethics at this stage were in a grey area, but he would navigate the treacherous waters with as much skill as he was able. He would not be performing any consultation under duress. “In the interest of my safety, an anyon field has been established, which will be activated if you decide to bring any deliberate harm upon me.”

“I do not intend to hold this session under duress, or if you do not wish to proceed, knowing the risk.” Elro spoke softly now, removing any defiance in his chin, and hoping that his regally accented voice might prove comforting to the Câroon. “If you have even the smallest of doubts as to your control of the parasite, please be honest.” Elro was trying to mix a level of professionalism whilst making the man comfortable; it was a skill well afforded to his currently irrelevant paracortex… “We can resort to the use of the oculus device if need be.”

“But I need to make it clear that aside from any verbal admonishment that you might struggle to resist, if you bring harm to me, or attempt to use your psychokinetic abilities against me, I may not be able to stop the security team from activating the device.” Elro paused, taking a moment to glance downwards, before returning his gaze to the man. “I would not enjoy having that on my conscience.”

“But I will leave the decision to you, Commander, and will hold your choice against you in no manner…” Elro spoke somewhat pointedly with the use of the man’s rank, but it was the Betazoid’s hope that Nicander would realise that Elro intended no ill-will towards his predecessor. Nor would he be especially choked up should his medical examination lead to the conclusion that Nicander required his jaw to be wired shut.

Elro almost chuckled at the thought.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #3 – October 29, 2019, 05:35:16 PM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

Oh, but the Betazoid appeared to have more resources than his telepathy at his disposal, with some wits and glib remarks to complement his bedside manner when facing someone he couldn't read. It was equally interesting and amusing to Nicander, finding himself chuckling at the verbal jabs he got back from the man. This will prove to be more interesting than I thought.

As if wanting Lucan to not interject and answer the comments made, the CMO had moved on while he'd chuckled. What point was there to correct the man and make some observations on account of his own people and their cultural stigmas? Likewise, was there any merit in saying that what good could possibly their careers be at that point, when serving aboard the renegade Theurgy? The public outcry wouldn't be silent because of how many Starfleet officers had been killed when the Theurgy defended itself and the truth. No, that Doctor Kobol  had succeeded him in sickbay mattered naught in the grander scheme of things, but he could understand how the Betazoid still clung to the notion that he wouldn't end up in a Penal Colony or become dismissed from the Medical Division. He had just come aboard, after all, living in a fantasy still.

The next point Doctor Kobol  brought up had more sobering implications, and he nodded slowly in understanding. It made a lot of sense, in many respects, that they would use the pretext of a medical examination to verify whether or not there was any merit in the use of the anyon emissions. He ought to have suspected it, and in fact... he found himself welcoming it. There were many layers to be considered in the circumstances, but since the suggestions and questions had a lot of merit, he folded his mismatched hands behind his back and inclined his head.

"I could stand on the Main Bridge of this ship, surrounded by the bridge crew and not hurt a soul. I could do so while the thing inside wished to kill everyone. It wished to depressurise the Upper Shuttle Bay, killing Deputy zh'Wann and Wenn Cinn both. Even worse, doing so would have made the Omega device vanish into the debris field - undetonated." Lucan could but hope the man had read the reports of the events on the bridge. "These notions, these insidious wishes were there, and given the stakes upon which the Borg invasion rode for the Infested... you would think that the thing crawling under my skin would do its utmost to make me comply."

He shrugged with one shoulder. "It failed, clearly. I hope this ought to serve as a reassurance that coming in here will be quite safe, for if the darkness couldn't compel my actions when it served it the most... it will have no means to do so today. Just please refrain from distracting me too much in here," he said with a smile, "for I need to... 'keep my guard up', in lack of a more proper metaphor."

Glancing towards the deckhead above them with his pale grey eyes, he added. "By the winds, I do would hate to die the kind of death you have set up for me. I could think of far more humane ways to join the final breeze."

It was no accusation towards the unethical approach of using the anyon emissions specifically. It was merely a statement of fact. Let's hope he doesn't scare easily, he thought privately, not caring to die because Kobol  would leap to conclusions about his every little movement. "If you think you'll find in hard to keep my mind from wandering with your pleasant bedside manner, then by all means, the oculus device is right there. Your call, Doctor."

Smiling, he looked at the Betazoid in a new light. Perhaps they made a good call after all?

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #4 – November 05, 2019, 04:40:56 PM

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

Elro couldn’t discern, without his telepathy, precisely what Nicander meant with his final statement. To imply that Elro would have found it difficult to keep Nicanders attention on the matter at hand, and to not distract him with ‘pleasant bedside manner’, had two meanings that the Doctor could fathom. Either the Câroon was insulting him, which was easy to assume, given their engagements thus far, or the Câroon was flirting with him.

The Betazoid couldn't believe that Nicander’s smile was any attempt at expressing friendship or trust. Without his telepathy, he was blind to the usual nuances of conversation. The insult was by far the more favourable of the two outcomes however, given his intimate knowledge of both Commanders Martin and Stark’s experiences with the Câroon. Elro was less interested than any, at the concept of being yet another notch in the proverbial bedpost of the promiscuous man before him.

The Betazoid elected to, instead of giving any further thought to those noxious ideas, move on to address the Câroon’s words regarding the impending consultation. The Betazoid was beginning to wager that Nicander was as nervous about it as much as his successor was.

“I understand that you have indeed demonstrated an ability to keep a tight reign over the parasite you are playing host to.” Elro responded to the Câroon, trying hard not to raise an eyebrow at the one shoulder shrug that made Nicader resemble a pestilent teen. “But each of the cases that you’ve presented as an example, you would have been forced to turn against colleagues and work to the detriment of everyone you know…”

Elro paused, taking that moment to place one of his dexterous fingers against his combadge in order to request that the forcefield be deactivated to grant him entry to Nicander’s cell.

“In this case…” Elro continued, stepping across the threshold, his dark eyes not leaving Nicander’s form for but a second. “I’d wager that you yourself would be considerably less concerned with the prospect of seeing your telepathic successor laying on the bulkhead.” Elro was unsure if the statement was a nervous attempt at humour that fell overwhelmingly flat, a voicing of his inner concerns, or even a heavily veiled warning to the Câroon… Regardless of his unknown intention, no sooner were his feet solidly flush against the deck-plating inside of the cell, did Elro tap at his combadge a second time, to signal the closure of the field, feeling distinctly wary as he contemplated the precariousness of the situation he faced.

As he’d voiced aloud, Nicander hadn’t turned against the bridge crew, nor had he turned against the people involved in the deployment of the Omega device. But they were people whom Elro expected the Câroon to have held a certain fondness for, something to force the man to fight against the hijack embedded in his psyche. The Betazoid, on the other hand, imagined that he would be afforded no such affection by the Câroon.

Elro let out a small tremble of breath at the thought…

“However, I can assure you that I will neither needlessly distract you, nor overwroughtly trigger an execution.” Elro moved passed his insecurities, politely affording the Câroon a small nod, before blindly reaching into the pocket of his white coat, producing his tricorder and taking a few delicate steps towards the imprisoned man.

Elro wagered that nobody had been quite so close to the Câroon since his imprisonment, and the Betazoid tried his damndest not to let his concern show through upon his face as he stepped into the man’s proximity. The Betazoid breathed into his mouth, his nose swelling with the somewhat stuffy air within the cell, thick with perspiration and frustration, as he removed the scanning module from the back of the device, and squared up to the other man.

“I’m going to begin with your arm.” Elro informed the other Doctor, unused to conversing with someone who had the same height as he, relinquishing that thought swiftly as he moved to crouch down to the deck-plating. “If you could relax the limb to the best of your ability, I would like to take some resting readings before we look at any exercise…”

And for the first time since he’d laid eyes upon the man, he peeled his dark irises away from the potential threat he was sealed with. His eyes instead flickered between the artificial limb that his triorder’s scanning module was hovering over, and the scanning device held slightly tighter than necessary in his hand.

He felt so vulnerable, crouched before such a dangerous man, his only armament being a tricorder, a device that put him in such an intimate fraction of space towards his foe…

Though he proceeded, nonetheless. 

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #5 – November 10, 2019, 03:43:40 PM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

Doing as instructed, Lucan remained idle with his back straight, his head held high - watching the Betazoid move his black eyes to the display of the tricorder to gather the readings from his severed limb.

"Do you honestly think so little of me, that the Starfleet officers aboard this ship would matter more to me than that of those from other crews? As I have tried to say, several times, I am a Starfleet officer, not a monster." He frowned in consternation, realising that the man had truly made him a demon in his thoughts, and refused to recognise any other truth. "As for you, personally, don’t you think there is a vast difference from mere dislike towards telepathy... to that of wishing you were dead? Or, do you think I covet my old position to the degree that I would commit murder to retake it? Even if I cared, don't you think that killing you in here would be a tad counter-productive?"

With a rueful smile, Lucan glanced away."Jest or not, by the winds, I do hope your people don't view everything so black and white, for Câroon surely don't. Even in the Fire Region, they don't kill strangers on a whim. Likewise,  I'd like to think all Regioneers a bit more civilised than committing murder just for the sake of advancing themselves in their careers."

He looked back at the Betazoid, studying his face... the cut of his jaw and the profile of his uniform in the light of the holding cell. "Oh and if I'd imagine you in any kind of prone position, it would not have anything to do with your heart-rate dropping," he said quietly, deciding to have a little bit of fun at the man's expense, since he seemed to have vilified him so much and refused to see him in any other kind of light. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

Letting the Betazoid think what he wanted of that, Lucan would be a good patient and follow the instructions given. He might just tease him a little bit since he was so narrow-minded.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #6 – November 19, 2019, 04:24:24 PM

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol  | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

Elro was only half listening to the man above him, busying himself on his tricorder readings and letting the Câroon continue to complain. The Betazoid didn’t mind all that much, if it made his patient feel better. The man talked about the fire region, and for a moment, Elro assumed he had changed his topic of conversation to a holodeck programme, his black eyes drawing away from the limb in question to draw back up to the man’s head.

The man held a gaze of somewhat fixation, his eyes boring into Elro’s features, before his mouth let out a stream of dialogue unbecoming of a senior Officer… At first, the Doctor furrowed his brow, envisioning himself, for the briefest moment, laying prone upon the floor with an increasing pulse. The Betazoid’s thoughts first took to the medical field, trying to diagnose the theoretical illness, before the taint of the innuendo became clear to him.

The Betazoid voiced his complaint, in the form of several words erupting from his mouth in the same breath, coming out as a garbled squawk that was only as humiliating as the overbearing heat that rippled across the skin of his face. Elro palmed his uncomfortably warm head, dropped his tricorder, and generally made an utter fool of himself. The Doctor was somewhat used to wayward thoughts from patients, some far more vivid than others… But a verbal proposition was unaccustomed to him.

When it was a thought, he could brush it off. Even the Orion male’s especially distressing imagination was tolerable. Impulsive thoughts were largely uncontrollable, and even dreamed-up little fantasies were tolerable. The confines of one’s own head was not subject to Starfleet regulation, after all… But such a brazen proposition, out loud… It was befuddling to the Doctor’s tight-laced mind. 

“Commander Nicander…” Elro eventually managed to struggle, swallowing down his debasement of dignity and looking up into the Câroon’s eye, managing the best disciplinary tone he could muster whilst his tongue felt like a wet-rag in his mouth. “May I remind you that I am a department head and a member of the Senior Staff aboard this vessel? Propositioning me as such is extremely inappropriate…”

Elro allowed himself to close his eyes, straightening himself up to stand at the other man’s full height.

“I believe that you requested that you were not distracted by myself during this session? I would therefore request that you stop distracting yourself with perversity at my expense…” The Betazoid huffed, both frustrated and embarrassed by the course of action. “And, since we are talking so informally, even were I to not be offended by such a rampart display of juvenile hormones, you Sir, would not be of interest to me.”

Elro scowled a fraction, barely a twinge on the lips of his usually neutral face, before bending himself down to retrieve his tricorder. Some, he pondered, might’ve been flattered by the flirtatious proposition. Elro, on the other hand, didn’t greatly seek the apparent privilege of being yet another proverbial notch on the Câroon’s proverbial bedpost.

“My fiancé was killed during the Cardassian occupation. Given our current circumstances, I do not expect my parents will be overly exuberant on finding a prospective spouse for me.” He didn’t know why he shared that information with the prisoner. He didn’t even know if it was true. “But regardless, my Parents will decide my future partner, not your perversions, thank you.” It was far more defensive than he had intended. He had no doubt that the Câroon would take the information and further pry into his insecurities.

It was a convenient excuse, and he knew it… Derik was aboard the ship, someone he had dabbled in the idea of a ‘conventional’ relationship with, despite his great difficulties. But that had ended when Elro had graduated, leaving to spend a few months on Betazed before his deployment. And when he left his desire to pursue intimacy fled him too; being on the home planet of his people only served to rebuild the customs that he’d had worn down by the Trill, to wait for his arranged spouse and to fall in love as his parents had.

But that was before he was part of a renegade crew, a man whose parents would have by now regarded as deceased. He didn’t know how long it would be until those circumstances changed… By the time it was over, Elro could have easily aged beyond desirable matching years… Did he wish to risk solitude for the rest of his days? Derik had displayed such familiarity with his mental teasing in their Senior Staff meeting just a few days prior. It was embarrassing, but fond...  And then there was Salem Martin, who possessed a jawline that medical science could not explain, and had certainly conveyed an emotional presence of flirtation in his presence.  And now this Câroon was envisaging him as a sexual aid…

He made a soft squawking sound at the thought… Even the concept of intimacy was distressingly uncomfortable for him. So much so, in fact, that as he knelt back on the floor, he couldn’t help but distress over the concept that the Câroon may have masturbated over the same floorspace.

The Betazoid’s grimace developed further.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #7 – November 25, 2019, 10:37:14 AM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

It had been a pure delight to witness how successful his teasing had been, ranging from the dropping of the tricorder to the blushing and the indignant posturing, and Lucan continued to smile through it all - unmoving where he stood like a perfectly innocent patient.

"My condolences on the fate of your fiance," he said, of course, even though it sounded to Lucan that it had been a long time ago. Whether or not the Doctor used it as a cheap argument, and regardless any level of affection for this parent-picked person, Lucan wasn't about ridicule that. "You raise an excellent case, however, in how cultures will always clash between the people of different planets. The key is to know yourself well enough to not let your upbringing matter more than the duties you have in common with others. For me, it may be quite fascinating, really, how someone of a people who would shed all their clothing for festivities, right in front of young and old, would so readily call me perverted. But that's just me, of course."

Still smirking a little, Lucan shrugged. "Likewise, I do wonder who's the juvenile, the one who isn't ashamed of their desires, or the one who can't handle themselves with a bit of civility when they are on equal footing with someone before them." Lucan paused and tilted his head a bit, looking at the man while he worked. "See, with most others, you have an advantage with your abilities, correct? A little bit of control of every situation. By the winds, that must be a very safe position to be in, isn't it?"

Without pause to let the Doctor answer, Lucan sought his eyes with his own, his pale grey eyes creased in the corners. "Being with me now... is it intimidating, I wonder? Is it frightening to just be here without sensing me, without me sharing my feelings? It must feel like I am a mere mirage. Just a surface without depth. Colourless and hollow. Unreal." As he said this, he had slowly raised his bionic hand, studying the artificial construct for a moment. Then, his eyes switched back to Kobol . "Yet what you are sensing now, in my presence... is actually what almost all other species feel. We rely on intuition, instincts, developed through years of experience. At this rate, I wonder how stunted you have become in such regards, not having learned how to understand people as others might..."

Lucan let his smile become warmer. "Don't you worry, Lieutenant. You are not that distracting, I assure you," he added in a cursory fashion, "and even if I would suddenly reach out and slant my lips across yours... and let you experience the intrigue and suspense of not knowing what may happen next... you already know that I would be able to keep you from harm."

The hearing had informed Kobol  of this, but Lucan had no illusions about swaying the Betazoid towards any such exploits. After all, they had an audience outside the forcefield. In lack of conversation in his cell, it was stimulating to just dance with his successor for a bit, while he got his well needed physical check-up. "Tell me, how fares Doctor Maya? Did she get proper treatment after she was struck down in my defence?"

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #8 – November 26, 2019, 03:57:55 PM

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

“Refrain from moving, if you please…” Elro abruptly informed the man who had flexed his arm mid-way-through Elro's examination, the wards of what pertained to his comfort all but destroyed by the rampant perversity of the Câroon. It was all the Betazoid could do, to cling to his medical duties whilst he considered exactly how to address the deluge of atrocity that the Câroon continued to eject from his mouth. Cultural misconception would be an adequate start.

“You mistake nudity for carnality, Mister Nicancer, which I would argue, proves my point exactly.” Elro informed the man before him, appreciative of the opportunity to call him out on his gutter-mind. “Our weddings are traditionally conducted in the nude, as an affirmation of love and honesty between partners. For you to even consider such an event as sexual is an atrocious blunder.” Elro’s voice had a residual scold to its tone. “Unless the culture of Câroon views interfamilial arousal as acceptable, I believe you should reconsider your stance on my culture.”

He paused, his tricorder settling somewhere on the joint in the man’s biometric limb.

“We exist without deception and mistruth; as such, trust is an abstract construct without much place in our lives.” He educated the man softly, as he continued moving the scanning module along the polymer of his new limb. “It’s something that even I find to be problematic to grasp, and I was brought up on Earth.” He paused, his eyes flicking over to his tricorder to make a note of the data. No atrophy of the joint. It seemed that the prosthetic was still in an excelsior condition. “To be nude in front of someone indicates love and openness. It is something you share with friends and family, your spouse, those whom mean the most to you. It is why a wedding on Betazed is such a sacred event, the joining of two individuals and their families and friends.”

The thought put a melancholy twinge in his heart. It seemed that such an endeavour would not be in the cards for him in the near future. He let a light sigh from his mouth, and covered it as an acceptance of the readings he was perusing on his device. He turned his eyes back to the prisoner.

“Make a fist, if you will.” He instructed, his tricorder scanning module daintily poised between his fingers. “And if I may remind you, we are not on equal footing.” Elro adopted a firmness to his tone now, satisfied that it would not aggravate the Câroon’s perceived control. “You are a prisoner, and even were you released in this moment, I would be your superior officer. I understand that you seem to thrive off of the misunderstood belittlement of my culture, but do not preach civility whilst you afford me none of the effect I am due. Your impertinence does you no credit.”

“But so that you are aware, I am no-more intimidated by you than I am intimidated by a holodeck character, or a hypospray.” Elro spoke softly, but he rebuked the man’s attempt at scrutinising his telepathy any further with the firmness his xenophobia required. “Your ignorance is distasteful.” The synthetic knuckles were in good order; it seemed as though the Doctor had at least had the sense to keep himself well-maintained in his down-time.

“Quite frankly, your oversimplification shames you, Commander.” Elro used his title as a means to further the man’s shame. “You claim that my telepathy blinds me to the way of socialisation, of understanding people, but you are preaching your own naivety.” Once again, Elro appreciated the opportunity to put the upstart prisoner in his place. “Intuition and instinct is of little consequence when interacting with a new individual, a new species, new rules. To approach a Bolian in the same manner with which you would approach a Tellarite would be considered crass. To approach a deceitful individual like yourself with the assumption that I was aware of your intentions and desires, would be ignorant. The Galaxy is far more complicated than you give it credit for.”

Elro paused, returning his eyes to the readings. He took a moment to ensure that he hadn’t missed anything whilst he had lectured. It appeared that he hadn’t. He took a step closer to the man’s personal space, the tricorder module grazing the skin where his flesh met his prosthetic, scanning the join that would be the prime site of infection, if any.

Elro’s total lack of eye contact with the other man was no accident. The words of the unpleasant man before him echoed a touch too true in Elro’s head. Despite his outward confidence, Elro did not feel comfortable in the thoughtless void that whirled around the Câroon. He didn’t enjoy the risk of unpredictability that the Câroon apparently thrived upon. He didn’t imagine that anybody aboard the ship would be at all comfortable in the same room as the man. Elro attempted to keep up a confident appearance regardless.

“Though, I do agree, telepathy has its drawbacks.” He confirmed, his brow furrowing with a twitch as he spoke. “For example, were you not impervious to my abilities, I would have had the great misfortune of having to experience the imagery of you attempting to kiss me. I don’t know if I would have been able to stomach such an event.” It was on the more mocking side of humour, but Elro didn’t feel at all satisfied with it regardless. The Câroon hadn’t afforded him with a modicum of respect throughout their entire ordeal; sexually propositioning a senior officer was a disgusting display of conduct.

Elro didn’t bother to comment on the subject though; he’d no doubt be received with yet further drivel concerning his own ‘shame’ regarding his sensuality. The thought of the Câroon learning that the Betazoid was a virgin was unthinkable. That the thought even crossed his mind lead Elro fighting off a rare flush. He hurried the subject matter along, addressing the sole of the man’s comments that was not repugnant.

“Of events concerning Doctor Maya’s injuries, I can confirm that she was well cared for.” Elro confirmed. “She is in perfect form once again, and is an exemplary member of our medical team. As to the security personnel whom inflicted her wounds, I have not pried into their fates.” Elro informed him, dark eyes fixed upon the join between the Câroon’s flesh and his new limb. “I assume your fondness for the Doctor indicates you never disparaged her telepathy and culture so virulently?” He questioned rhetorically, but Elro had no doubt that he would reply regardless.

He knew that it was fruitless, but he attempted to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand regardless. His voice stayed as steady as it had for the majority of the conversation as his eyes retreated back to the safer territory of his tricorder.

“Have you experienced any pain or discomfort in your prosthetic or the surrounding tissue?”

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #9 – December 02, 2019, 02:50:37 PM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

At ease, Lucan remained standing where he did while he followed the instructions for his hand - taking the counter-arguments mostly in stride. Little did he point out the errors in the Betazoid's arguments, but actually focused on the many merits of his character - prim and proper as he might project himself to be. As if he hadn't reacted the way he did at the mention of an flirtatious advance. It was a fun game, bored as he was in his confinement, so teasing the man was turning out to be the highlight of the day.

"No, nothing beyond the vestigial phantom pains, which the sensor suite in the new limb is lessening by the day - my nervous system accepting the artificial input as it's own. As for my torso, same thing, really. It would seem Okafor's contributions haven't been rejected, the internal organs not causing me any greater discomfort," he said, knowing that the seam between the synth-flesh and his real body was on display in the overhead light of the holding cell. The whole right side above the hip bone and below the rib cage had been replaced after that Devoted hit him with that stray phaser beam. Sometimes, he wondered what it would have been like if he still worked on furthering the research on the enemy, and tried to maintain his public image for the crew he tried to save.

"As for the difference between Vulcans and Betazoids... Telepathically, I believe it's just a matter of touch and effort. That should actually tell you something. Dislike towards unfair abilities does not equal a hate towards a collective species. You seem to exaggerate my words out of proportion, which tells me just how hurt you are that Câroon generally don't care for your kind and the invasion of minds. I am sorry, you can't have everyone like you, Lieutenant. Do you see me persecute telepaths? On the contrary, I do have the utmost respect for Doctor Maya." He paused, wondering how he might make his point any clearer without the man jumping to further conclusions. "See, you can't invade my mind, so it's rather a sympathy for other species being so unfairly subject to your abilities. It's baffling to Câroon how they don't try to make themselves immune to your prying nature. We find it unfairly intrusive."

Of course Doctor Kobol  would know quite well from their argument that the Betazoid's leap to their rank and positions - when it came to their mutual grounds in terms of intrusive mental abilities - had nothing to do with the point he made. Was there a point in calling him out for the flaw in his argument? Hardly. It wasn't as if it mattered. Culture, however, held more water, but only served to prove his own point.

"Indeed, when it comes to intuition when meeting new people, culture and planetary origin makes things yet more difficult." Though not impossible, in thanks to the universal translator and the Federation database. Not to mention the schooling they had in common in the Academy. He smiled to the Betazoid regardless if he dared meet his eye. "So does reading the thoughts and emotions of people of said cultures make it harder... or easier? You make my point even better than I did, in how you've just illustrated the unfair advantage that you are without in present company. It makes us equal as individuals when it comes to foresight and discernment. As for you being Chief Medical Officer... I am sorry, but are you suggesting I am on duty whilst inside here? Then I will make sure to submit my reports henceforth. I had no idea you were so interested in my daily routines."

Since he wasn't released, Lucan would have his fun while he could. He also considered it unlikely that Kobol  would have him back and working in Medical at all, so the Betazoid had raised a moot point anyway.

"My apologies if I offended you earlier," he said, running his tattooed hand through his hair and taking a deep breath while the scans of his torso were being made. "So you say you live in love and openness with your friends and kin, and exist without deception and mistrust. You say you struggle when it comes to the concept of trust since you cannot hide your own nature amongst yourselves, it makes lack of trust foreign to you. So that begs the obvious question, doesn't it? Could you ever trust me... or any other person who you can't read?"

Since he'd already told Kobol  about Maya, the question was if Kobol  was just as good as he when it came to overcoming bias against other species?

"So correct me if I am wrong, but would it actually help if I undressed completely to show my willingness towards openness with you?" he asked with a smile and a chuckle, "is that how we become friends despite our differing abilities? Non-sexually as you say, of course. Perhaps it might even be prudent given the medical check-up you are here for?"

Oh, how much fun there could be had once given the opportunity. His successor made for such a great debating partner, and Kobol  was intelligent enough to be quite stimulating in his own captivity and lack of personal interaction.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #10 – December 10, 2019, 03:22:55 AM

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol  | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

Elro was pleased that the man had not been experiencing any notable suffering concerning his new limb; any discomfort on his part would have been a direct result of their negligence in affording him the appropriate medical attention, and hardly an excelsior point for his first fortnight as CMO. His scans revealed much of the same information that Nicander’s words had, that the limb had not rejected the prosthetic and that the calibrations of the device were extremely precise. Elro had to remember to commend the man who had worked to design it with such precision.

Unfortunately, Aydenr’s contentedness was sullied by the knowledge that his hopes for the Câroon to silence himself, remained yet unfulfilled. Perhaps forever? Elro couldn’t very well picture the man without envisaging some reprehensible comment coming out of his mouth. One first example, was the scrutiny that the Doctor had deployed onto the entire Betazoid species. It made Elro grimace very slightly.

“You are examining subtext that does not exist, Commander.” Elro politely rebuked the man’s dry assumption that the Betazoid was offended by the lack of acceptance afforded telepaths by the Câroon species. Truthfully, aside from the petulant man before him, he didn’t expect to encounter another member of the species in his lifetime; he’d been reading up, and apparently it was uncommon that they left their home planet for any significant amount of time. “I simply suggest that if all species lived as honestly as Betazoids do, their would likely be far less strife in the galaxy. You call our abilities an invasion, but I would argue that your fears are concerned with what you wish to conceal, rather than our ability to experience your thoughts and emotions for ourselves.”

“‘Only a man with something to hide, is afraid of being examined by more than eyes’.” Elro paused, his quote taken from a Betazoid extrasensory specialist he’d seen as a teenager, one who helped him to temper the chaos of his abilities and learn to establish himself better when it came to the precision of his psionic abilities. Before he continued, he made a conscious effort of straightening himself up, drawing himself back to his feet, his new stance forcing himself to look into Nicander’s face. “Poetic, of course, as most quotes are, but I find it to be extremely logical as a sentiment.”

Elro found the man still to be unnerving, his features as unreadable as his mind, his eyes almost serpentine as he stared back with his cold eyes. He withdrew from their eye contact without much dallying and instead quietly moved his tricorder module to the damage upon the Câroon’s torso. He took a short moment to consider how to best address the Câroon’s juvenile questioning, before answering.

“You talk about my abilities being ‘unfair’ like you’re a child; we all have our own intrinsic biological qualities. To compare us is futile, we will never be ‘equals’ in biology, it is rare for any two beings to be so.” Elro was truthfully tiring of the debate; the Câroon evidently had no plans to ever agree with the Betazoid. He hadn’t felt his patience tested so much since he was at the academy and was forced to contend with an upstart Deltan who thought she knew everything about medicine. Never did a class go by without her making some comment or another.

“I, personally, believe that an abject disposition against decietfulness is a positive character trait. But, like every species who joins the Federation, we adapt to those around us. I do not delve deeply into every head I pass, nor do I forget the Human ‘bedside manner’ in favour of the directness preferred by my own species. Both professional courtesy, a concept seemingly alien to you, I might add…” Elro had to get his jibe in somewhere...  “Yet whilst I dampen my overt use of my psionic abilities for the comfort of others, my abilities are no different to your sight, and I use them as you would use your vision to analyse my surroundings.” Elro sighed only lightly, his exhalation ghosting out across the mechanised portion of the Câroon’s torso as he scanned. “Forgive me, Commander, but your commentary makes me wonder if you are, in fact, jealous of telepaths?”

Elro continued his scans for a brief moment, hoping for his words directed at Nicander to be dwelled upon my the older man. The Betazoid was aware that there were other comments the  Câroon had made, but he was somewhat unwilling to address them. Yet, he also felt himself drawn to the need to do so, to correct the man’s deliberate cultural blunders. In the end, the latter desire won out, and the Betazoid found himself forced to correct the man before him, even as his eyes failed to leave the tricorder once more.

“You are well aware that you are not on duty, please do not be pedantic.” Elro barely managed to tether the exasperation in his voice; it felt as though the man was existing to frustrate him. “I simply address your lack of respect towards me. I wonder if I was an officer you were more familiar with, you would be more gracious in your interactions…” Elro truthfully didn’t care that the Câroon seemed to harbour ill will towards him and his species. Yet, it was disrespectful, and for a man in his position, it was unbecoming of someone who had every need to prove himself better.

“And in regards to your critique on my ability to trust…” Elro moved on swiftly, not wanting to get sucked in to some meaningless drivel about how the Câroon felt towards him. Elro truly understood Ducote’s stance that Nicander used as many words as possible to say any statement. The Betazoid expected he’d need to vent to the Commander at some point soon. “As you say yourself, it is a somewhat irrelevant concept to a telepathic species, but from my knowledge at the term, I request that you examine your circumstances before you ask me such...”

“I would not ‘trust’ you, Commander.” Elro confirmed, somewhat bluntly, as he continued to scan across the stretch of the reconstructed torso, relatively satisfied with the readings thus far, but unwilling to face Nicander in the eye when he had an excuse to avoid doing so. The man was an enigma and he felt unnerved by the coldness in his stare. “But that is irrespective of my ability to perceive your thoughts.” Elro paused, his tricorder making an alarming beep, his dark eyes flicking down to the device to clarify if there was anything he needed to be distressed about. The device was informing him that all parameters were as expected.

“Trust is built up over time, by learning to anticipate another's actions, by learning to rely upon them and understand them. I have spoken to you on two occasions, and you have not seemed to make any effort to gain my favour or respect.” Elro closed the device for a moment as he attended his attention to the Câroon. “Instead you seem to take pleasure in challenging me and admonishing my culture. Forgive me for saying, but you strike me as a man who does not fully desire to be trusted, one who prefers to keep people at a distance...”

Elro was no councillor, but the idea made fairly obvious sense based on his conversational observations. The Betazoid had no doubts that the reasons for such an apparent need to remain enigmatic were numerous indeed. Perhaps a session with Commander Hathev or a member of her team, would do the man good? His mental turmoil had to be overbearing to say the least.

“But as such, I have no desire for you to undress and bare yourself towards me.” Elro continued, rather abruptly informed him, finding himself almost flustered at the idea of the Câroon swinging his genitalia around whilst making debasing comments about Elro’s species; it was perhaps the only way the cell could become even less tolerable. “Your carnality would no doubt see it as an opportunity for arousal, and debase a very intimate practice. If you truly desire some form of kinship, I'd suggest you cease your debasement of my species and move on to a more traditional ice-breaker, perhaps ask me about my hobbies?” Elro came close to a small smirk at the comment. 

His voice remained flat as he raised his eyebrows deliberately at the Commander. It was rare that Elro deployed such humour in his use of sarcasm. He felt especially proud of that particular comment. Elro took it as a moment to take a curt breath, before addressing the Câroon’s final, and most unpromising of statements...

“Whilst I’m sure this ‘prudency’ is an attempt at lewdness on your part…” Elro began with a sigh, outwardly rubbing his thumb and forefingers on opposing sides of his temple. “Yet out of a desire to avoid clinical negligence,  If you have any medical concerns you wish to raise, concerning the area below your waist, please do so whilst I am here.” Elro ran his hand through his hair, emerging from the manoeuvre with a steeled expression. “But please do note, that I will be documenting this consultation in my logs.”

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #11 – December 11, 2019, 10:39:09 AM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

It was so fascinating, hearing the Betazoid linger on the suggestion that Lucan would actually undress before the man, and it was clear that without Kobol  being able to read his mind, he was unable to discern rhetorical questions. His argument had been about openness and he'd made a glib remark at the practice of nakedness. There were security guards right outside and they were being recorded, yet still he thought the worst of him? That he'd actually do something perverse? By the winds, he can truly not hear subtext without his abilities.

By the way he rubbed his own temples, it was also clear that he was getting weary. It was time to conclude this travesty.

"Oh, I think I ought to leave some of me to your imagination, just so that you might revisit this conversation later on in the night," he said with a rueful smile, hoping the man would finally take the hint that he shouldn't take everything so literally just because he was stunted in reading his intentions. "Indeed, we have only spoken on two occasions, and I have not made any effort to gain your favour or your respect... because it was you who gave me none first - thinking you have right to condemn a victim of alien influence for actions not his own. You trod and stumble upon me blindly, and I am merely setting the record straight. If it wasn't for me, Martok would had destroyed the Sword and killed everyone on it - you included - and yet you come here, Lieutenant, and treat me like <sôceen>."

He hadn't even raised his voice, the only expletive being a rare Câroon word for excrement. While he'd spoken, he'd just taken a short step forward so that he was right in Kobol 's face - his pale grey eyes drilling into his black orbs. "How's that for 'professional courtesy'? You shame your uniform far worse than I."

Having said this, Lucan slowly stepped away, even though he continued to look at the Betazoid while he retreated to his bunk. "The Federation has no laws against telepathy. I know this. I accept this, regardless my opinions on it. I have already apologised if I offended you, which seems to matter little, or you simply don't see I'm being genuine." He sat down on his bunk, all smiles gone at this point. "I already know that Betazoids don't develop their abilities until their adolescence - the children that do not faring too well - so I know you should have learned how to behave properly around people you can't read. If I am making you feel like a child, then please, excuse yourself. In a battle of wits, I am not keen on fighting someone unarmed."

Of course, it wasn't just Kobol  who had never offered any gratitude for saving hundreds of lives with the use of Farsight, just because of what was inside him. And yet they wonder why I was reluctant to step forward?

Before Kobol  might leave, Lucan supposed the man would think ill of Câroon because of their stance on privacy - thinking they all had things to hide or that he would somehow envy Betazoids for their ability to violate people's integrity. "Câroon defines privacy as 'the claim of individuals, groups, or institutions to determine for themselves when, how, and to what extent information about them is communicated to others'. You see, Doctor, each individual is continually engaged in a personal adjustment process in which he or she balances the desire for privacy with the desire for disclosure and communication of himself to others, in light of the environmental conditions and social norms set by the Region in which they abide. With forethought of our actions, and protecting our own, we do not wish to divulge means in which those dear to us might be hurt. Privacy is not just about protecting our private thoughts on Câroon, but our lives and family."

Having said this, Lucan picked up one of his PADDs, waiting for the visitor to leave.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #12 – December 11, 2019, 03:39:59 PM

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Auctor Lucan

Elro tumbbed at his temple. Apparently Nicander viewed himself as a saint. Were it not for sharing his thoughts with Commanders Ducote and Hathev the day prior, the Betazoid may have been concerned that his personal conduct towards the man had indeed been unbecoming. However, he had it on good standing that it was in fact Nicander whom had been difficult. Ducote's thought process had all but guaranteed as such.

Yet still, as the Betazoid watched the man fetch up a PADD like a pestilent child, he couldn't help but audibly sigh. That the man had possessed the gaul to get so invasively into the Betazoid’s space, showed a real lack of regard for his own well being.

“Then, please, forgive me for whatever perceived slight you believe I have caused you.” Elro paused, his tone as soft as ever, and tidily disguising his frustration, he hoped. “But I would remind you that when I first encountered you, I demanded that the barbaric treatment of your health cease immediately. You required medical treatment and I noted that, regardless of the affliction that those guarding you informed us of.”

“Then, during your interrogation, Commander Hathev and I stood in contempt for the idea of you being put in a situation of risk using the ‘farsight’ ability.” Elro was the one of them this time to not break his stare, affixed on the man so engrossed in the PADD that Elro half expected the device to be blank. “I do not pretend to know the horrors of your situation, and I do not condemn you for your possession. Yet it does not escape me that whilst the parasite within you was serving freely in sickbay, the entire crew of this vessel was at risk.”

“Nevertheless, I condemn you only for the experience I have of you. Your pettiness and your brashness. Your rudeness… I appreciate that your isolation must not be easy on your mind, and I would be more than happy to defer you to Commander Hathev’s team for support if you believe that would help...” Elro paused, willing himself to not allow the man to rile him up further with his accusations that Elro had shamed his uniform. Elro did not expect the Câroon would take him up on his offer.

“I have no reference as to your behavior prior to your imprisonment, but I have experienced for myself the emotions your colleagues experience when your name is mentioned.” Elro didn’t feel unkind to inform the man of the wide distaste towards him; he must have known as such from his encounter with Commander Martin. “I have not allowed those predispositions to sour my judgement of you." In truth, Elro may have been equally disconcerted by the man if he had been cordial and polite, but his antagonism certainly hadn't assisted the Betazoid's opinion of him. "Before our meeting yesterday, I had been especially vigilant in the construction of my own objectivity. If you believe that I judge you unfairly now, then it is to your own behaviors that you must look for answer."

Elro paused, his dark eyes burrowing into the man’s temple. The Betazoid had definitely found the man obstructive from the beginning; treating his interview as though it was a challenge, his constant obstruction of Ducote's questioning, the removal of the ARA, the manner he cooperated only on his own terms... That had put negative perceptions into his head about the meeting he was now in. But he did indeed believe that it was Nicander's actions that had made Elro feel so at odds with the man.

“As a non-telepath, you speak of matters that you cannot fathom. My paracortex developed slightly earlier than if would for the typical Betazoid, and growing up on Earth did not make the experience gentle for me.” Elro did not feel the need to educate the Câroon as to the specifics of his tutelage from a Starfleet extrasensory expert, he would no doubt find some way to belittle the experience. "Gaining the ability to perceive emotion with far more accuracy than using my 'intuition', certainly led to the decline of my need to use the latter practice. I apologise if this does not meet your expectations."

“Perhaps indeed our species are too contrary in our ways to discover a common ground, but I would appreciate it if you temper your distaste.” Elro took a footstep towards the force field, but hesitated for a moment. “If the day comes when you are relinquished of your demon, we will no doubt be working together closely…” Elro bowed his head slightly at the thought of having to work alongside such a man. He could only hope that being freed from confinement might allow him to expend his energy in less antagonistic ways.

“I will not allow our mutual dislike to interfere with my duties.” He paused, poised somewhat close to the force field, not wanting to leave the session so abruptly, despite how doing so would have afforded him great joy. "Do you have any concerns of relevance you would like to voice before I depart?"

It was only appropriate to give the man the opportunity to express any additional issues before concluding their time together.  As he had said, he would not allow his distaste for the man to interfere with his duties.

Re: Day 06 [1147 hrs.] Cell Block Tango

Reply #13 – December 16, 2019, 01:16:00 PM

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Holding Cell | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]
^{Attn: @TWilkins}
[Show/Hide]

It was rather incredible how the Betazoid didn't see any flaws in his own conduct, forgetting how he'd continued to perpetuate his habit of thinking Lucan less of a Doctor than he was. Moreover, that Kobol  wasn't even willing to admit how he condemned Lucan for his second nature - the thing inside that he was well able to control. As evidenced by the new CMO's survival right then, no less.

Of course, he had a point in how it was a risk to not having surrendered himself after Starbase 84, but it was a calculated one. Commanders in Starfleet took such risks all the time, depending on the mission parameters. Something a Lieutenant might not understand lest they took the Senior Officer test. The benefit of his actions was that the Science Department had a foundation for the continued research into the enemy and the threat to the Federation. Something conveniently overlooked, Lucan could but presumed, so that the Betazoid could remain on his high wind.

"None, thank you," he said, knowing that there was no point in further debate with a man self-deluded. "I do welcome Hathev or any of her people visiting. So far, none have dared to."

The Betazoid refused to even acknowledge what had happened in the battle against Martok, but did chose to point out the bare minimum that was required of him when a shipmate was in need of medical treatment, as if it was something extraordinary for people of their profession. Lucan was grateful, of course, and he'd already given his gratitude for it in the hearing.

"Good day, Doctor. Please be sure to treat my team well in my absence."

- FIN