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Topic: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect (Read 293 times) previous topic - next topic

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Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 

It had been nearly two weeks since Theurgy secured safe haven in the Klingon protectorate territories.  Two weeks since they had faced off against the Savi, the Borg and even the forces of the Federation tasked with hunting them down -- an encounter that climaxed with the destruction of subspace at the heart of the Azure Nebula.  Deacon had to admit that he was still thin on some of the details of what had come to pass, but it was not his place to press for such secrets unless his counsel was needed -- which, it was not.  At least, not so far as the officers and command staff went, it seemed.  There was the occasional member of the rank and file crew who might open themselves up to Deacon about some inane issue or another.  Xenia and Taliesin assured him that it was less likely the need to confess and seek divine guidance and more a matter of a cultural practice of opening up to their bartenders.

Honestly, he found that explanation even more insulting, but in the end, he supposed it was a compliment to his talents, that they would feel comfortable enough to open themselves up.  A few had even shown up for his birthday, although he was less certain if that was a credit to him or a desire to seek some relief from the stresses that had dominated the ship for months.

Fortunately, the time that they had spent at Aldea had allowed him the opportunity to assert some much needed order in his life.  Classes in Human culture and the Federation at large had been an almost daily routine -- a much needed distraction that kept his mind occupied, focused.  K'Ren had required some additional procedures to recover from her ordeals so when he wasn't on duty, he hovered close to her to ensure her recovery, a certain reprimand echoing in the back of his mind as he did so, a chastisement given to him following his own surgery not long after arriving aboard ship.

"...But no, here you are! Up and about without giving any care to the fact that I just resequenced almost half of your DNA and reconstructed your lost physique mere hours ago. What in the winds make you think you have the strength to push yourself this way? You should not undergo any strenuous activity for quite some time. Some parts of your body has never been used before, mere constructs summoned out of your genome. Most importantly, you have not given yourself enough time for your body to re-adapt to itself, and the seams of your internal surgery might split at any kind of early provocation."

It had been an unexpected chastisement.  On Homeworld, they could have built a new a new body out of leaves and excrement and he would've been expected to be about his duty the moment he could stand.  It was fundamentally unKzinti to be idle.  All this time later, it was an explanation that came readily to his mind but in the heat of the moment, there was aught he could offer that likely would not have resulted in a greater dressing down.

That was, he supposed, the reason he was so diligent in his own personal healthcare, especially following the Savi, and why he doted over K'Ren's.  It had earned the doctor a certain level of respect that he would unashamedly confront a Kzinti and, more so than being right, walk away unscathed.  In truth, Deacon had wanted to explain his progress to the doctor and had gone several times to sickbay to try and locate him, but after a week of effort, Nicander's current circumstances were made abundantly clear.

And yet, merely writing him off seemed... wrong.  There was no satisfaction that he could not report his progress, could not justify that he had been strong enough to survive.  He supposed it could be an unwillingness to leave a debt unsettled, but whatever the case, it was something he sought to remedy if only for his own sanity.  After a day or two, he had submitted a request to security to see if he might have some time to speak with the doctor -- to possibly bring him a meal, as he would likely be constrained to a replicated diet and that seemed cruel and unusual from Deacon's perspective.  There had apparently been some deliberation regarding the ramifications of allowing a civilian to have access to the prisoner, but Federation compassion seemed to ultimately prevail provided he followed certain regulations regarding inappropriate food items and utensils.  It wasn't an insurmountable series of criteria and Deacon had scheduled a date and time for the meal so that the security team would be well prepared for whatever chaos they were anticipating.

As the lunch shift was coming to a close, he set himself to preparing the meal which consisted of thinly sliced targ from the previous night's dinner, dressed with a matching au jus piled atop a local Aldean bread that was faintly sour with excellent structure.  The humans had nicknamed it Caretaker Sourdough and the term seemed to stick.  An assortment of freshly steamed vegetables complimented the side and a small cup of vanilla panna cotta  drizzled in a compote of seasonal fruits.

If nothing else, he had been quite thankful for his brief excursions to the surface to secure an assortment of ingredients to supplement their stocks.

Assured that the food and plating met all the requisite requirements, he readied the tray and set out for security.  Certainly, it might be appropriate to bring something for the staff, but catering the whole of the department would require a more significant support staff than he currently possessed.  If any of those on duty had objections, he could remedy their irritation during the dinner shift, he was certain.

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #1
[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
[Show/Hide]
Humane treatment was a bliss, and something Nicander hadn't been entirely sure he'd get.

After all, there he was, the sole Infested aboard the Theurgy, which a lot of security processes set up to ensure he wouldn't escape or harm anyone. Yet at the same time, he'd proven himself cooperative and offering intel that might further the mission, so while the initial trepidation towards him made it less likely he'd get anything he asked for, the balance was shifting a bit in his regard when it came to Security's treatment of him.

Of course, having killed three of their friends during the battle with the Rotarran hadn't earned him any favours to start with. It had been a bit of a process to make them realise that it wasn't he who did it, but the thing inside. It was all a bit over their heads and pay grades, but slowly enough they were beginning to see how he was a victim of the enemy's. An innocent and unwilling host that were kept in the holding cell in the case the thing inside him managed to somehow wrest control from him. Time wore on, and it gradually showed that he did not have such seizures and lapses in control. This had earned him a PADD, stand-alone from Thea's network, which he could use for reading, studies, calculations and other entertainment. It had served to help make the days wear on more quickly, while the scientists worked to find a means to exorcise the thing that coiled inside him and whispered into his mind.

Taking a deep breath, Lucan rose from the bunk, stretching and getting ready for some physical exercise - a routine that one of the security guards had helped him with to keep his body healthy and his mind keen. He was just about to remove his uniform jacket and undershirt when he heard the Brig Officer call.

"Doctor Nicander, you have a visitor," said the Ensign at the Brig Control Station.

Curiously, Lucan zipped his uniform jacket shut once more and stepped up to the forcefield. The face that greeted him when it came into view was... familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. His guest looked like an ordinary human at first, and then he saw the tail, which was more than a little bit familiar. He narrowed his eyes a bit, squinting at the face on the other side of the forcefield.

"Mister Xander Maryk? Deacon?" he asked, corroborating the man's facial features with the farsight vision of a man with a tail on that Recycling Platform. Nicander let his hands hang loosely at his sides. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
  • Last Edit: October 28, 2019, 01:07:05 AM by Auctor Lucan

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #2
[ Deacon | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 

"Mister Xander Maryk?"

If was a greeting that brought a tightness to the corners of his mouth, although he had to admit it was not an unexpected salutation at this point and it was a name he'd been forced to admit himself on more than one occasion.  Still, it sat ill with his upbringing, but at least not to such a degree that he could not overlook it with a sigh.  Plus, he recalled that he had never made a formal distinction between either of his names to the doctor so he should be forgiven his tendency to rely on both.

Releasing a slight breath, he inclined his head, offering his preference.  "Deacon," he stated.  "And I thought it time that you receive a proper meal."  He lifted the tray before him, setting it down in the area designated by the security guard before stepping back to allow for whatever procedure was necessary.  He doubted anything untoward would befall the meal given his proximity and steady gaze -- this had all been arranged in advance and he found most crew members were loathe to indulge in shenanigans while on duty.

Although, he had to admit, he had heard of some exceptions.  Experienced a few first hand no less.  That came from the arrogant belief that they might know more than their Patriarch and having no strength of will by which to directly challenge the Patriarch.  Of course, even among the Kzinti, there was a pecking order.  A freshly trained hunter without a name had no right to raise his claws against the Patriarch -- after all, what honor had he claimed, what following had he secured?  Presumption was the undoing, and chaos sprung wild from the seed of presumption.  Deacon knew this best of all, he supposed.

"I was... concerned.  You had expressed some... displeasure at my level of activity when last we spoke."  It was a challenge to weave the proper phrases at time, even in one of his native tongues, especially when such admissions left a sour taste on his tongue.  "Since then, I have stopped by sickbay several times to demonstrate that your attention towards my care was not taken for granted."

He took a seat across from the holding cell, leaning forward slightly.  "Although I have necessarily been forced to alter your advice given my change in circumstance," he continued, waving his hand before his body demonstrably. 

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #3
[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
[Show/Hide]
While Deacon spoke, Lucan waited for the former Kzin to move on to what he really wished to speak about. He just assumed the man had come to berate him, call him out on his dishonesty about his true natrue - having been afflicted with the infestation of his body by the time he used the DNA re-sequencer in sickbay to save Deacon's life. That he felt stained by the touch of his tattooed hands or some other inane thing on his mind that had come there in person. Passively, Lucan folded his now mismatched hands behind his back and waited for it.

The virus from the Resolve had threatened to kill the Kzin, the reaction far worse than any other of the crew had experienced, and it had been pure fortune in the moment that Thea brought him to sickbay that had let Lucan catch on to the trace human genome that the Kzinti had failed to hide. It had showed him the means to save the hybrid's life, and he had succeeded. The delicate work of altering the chromosomes, and then the breaking down of mater, followed by regeneration of tissues all over the young man's physiology - in an order that didn't threaten his bodily functions. It had been a repetition of what he'd done to Sarresh Morali, only with other DNA and circumstances entirely. He remembered how he'd had to simulate and replace functions using holographic substitute organs during the lengthy process, but in the end, the man - albeit against his consent of the procedure - had been saved. Of course he'd offered surface cosmetic surgery so that the hybrid might see a Kzin in the mirror, but as far as he recalled, Deacon has declined the offer.

Of course, the hybrid spoke of what he'd said to him in Below Decks, when he'd found the man up and about and completely disregarding his post-surgery health. Evidently, Deacon had taken his words to heart, which was far more than other officers might. Especially those Tac CONN jocks. Moronic adrenaline puffs of wind with no direction....

When the silence lingered, Lucan realised that there wouldn't come a rebuttal. No accusation. It made him raise his brows over his pale grey eyes and clear his throat a bit - so unused as he was to kindness. Meanwhile Deacon had spoken, the Brig Officer had activated the Oculus device, which detached itself from the edge of the forcefield and floated out to the place where the food was located. It expanded just enough to let the tray pass through, and Lucan slowly walked over to retrieve the tray - unsure what to say.

"I can imagine so," he said, pulling the tray inside and carrying it to the bulkhead. There, he folded down a small tabletop and a seat, allowing him to place the tray on the table. He glanced towards his visitor again. "Thank you, it looks better than the ordinary things they replicate for me. Much obliged."

He seated himself, and thought of his former patient's circumstances. "I merely have secondary knowledge of the Savi, since their interference - along with the Asurians - are new in this Cycle. The nameless darkness never showed me any instance of them being present in these events. What I have learned is... disconcerting. By the winds, is it true that they were misled by their own ruling caste? A caste the made themselves, equivalent to augments, using other species to further their own biology?"

Perhaps a poor choice of question. It had likely been traumatic for Deacon, being there and having his body altered in a less humane way than Lucan had done it. He supposed he ought to give the man credit for his attention to his own well-being now that he was back aboard the Theurgy. "I am, of course, gratified to see that you took my words to heart, and didn't waste your second chance at life. If Thea hadn't reached you in time, and brought you to me, you would have died the Kzin you were, well before the Savi abducted you." Looking at the food, he realised his error in phrasing it in that particular way. "By the winds, having heard what you've been through, I just hope you don't regret that we saved your life."
  • Last Edit: October 30, 2019, 12:51:27 PM by Auctor Lucan

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #4
[ Deacon | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 

"Well, replicators are... nutritious.  No one ever accused them of being tasty."  Deacon sat quietly listening and watching as Nicander seated himself before launching into a series of questions.  Truthfully, he hadn't been prepared for such a change of topic.

The corners of his mouth tightened with irritation as he considered the Savi, flexing the claws on one hand reflecting on what they'd done. Slowly, his gaze returned to the doctor who lingered on his question.  "Yes.  There was a... servitor subspecies who would likely have been eliminated over time as the ruling class swelled its ranks.  Well, I suppose they might have lived in a far more menial capacity, if the scions saw themselves above such tedium."  Augments did not have such a foul reputation among the Kzinti... after all, Kzinti were an augmented species with centuries or more of genetic manipulation in their history.  "I've yet to decide whether they are monsters or fools for following this so-called Code of theirs.  It is logically flawed at its base -- the resources required to remap someone's genetic sequence is no small effort, but to wipe away any memory whether biological or artificial, and invent a new identity with enough precision so as to go unquestioned...?"

Deacon's tone was perhaps a touch heated.  It was a topic that had likely preoccupied him to some extent.  But at last he shook his, head, holding up a free hand as to push the topic aside.

"I am, of course, gratified to see that you took my words to heart, and didn't waste your second chance at life. If Thea hadn't reached you in time, and brought you to me, you would have died the Kzin you were, well before the Savi abducted you.  By the winds, having heard what you've been through, I just hope you don't regret that we saved your life."

"I am... grateful that you and Theur... Thea..." he forced himself to say, remembering that it was the name she had elected and he could at least do her that courtesy... "saw to my care.  When I came aboard, I had no one.  I had left the only life I knew behind on Homeworld.  Had I gone to the Eternal Hunt that night, I would not have been shocked."  Disappointed, perhaps, but that had more to do with him than anyone else, and it was not a subject he was overly comfortable broaching to others.

He held up a finger.  "But, I did not want you to think that I had ever disregarded your advice.  Kzinti find it... unnatural to remain idle for prolonged periods.  True, we do appreciate our leisure periods.  But missing three limbs and half my organs, I would have needed to find some activity to occupy myself or risk dwelling in my invalidity.  We are a species that thrive on our accomplishments and, frankly, whither with inaction."

With a breath, he continued.  "I suppose I should have explained that when we spoke.  Well, at least one of the times.  I have been.... working to be more open in that regard.  I... cannot assume who has the clearance to know what little there is to know about my people."

Motioning towards the plate, he added, "Do you like it?  I never got the opportunity to investigate Câroon dietary standards so, I am hoping they are not overly disparate from Human."
  • Last Edit: November 06, 2019, 10:36:51 AM by steelphoenix

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #5
[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
[Show/Hide]
Hearing the explanation about Kzinti culture when it came to recovery and idleness, Lucan may have nodded, but still thought himself to know better what Deacon's body had needed at the time. He understood the man's position on the matter, of course, and it said a lot about the feline species that he hadn't known about. Such barbarism, and lack of care for their own.

He made no comment on it, the topic having run its course already, but he readily answered Deacon on the question about the meal he'd been served, just finishing chewing his third bite before she spoke. "I have not had real targ in ages, and with the complementary vegetables and juices, I couldn't be more grateful."

It hadn't been until the second bite that he had identified the meat, and it made him wonder... Where might the Theurgy have access to fresh targ after having escaped the Azure Nebula through the second aperture? Surely that meant that they were in the Alpha or Beta Quadrant still? The alliance struck with High Chancellor Martok in the battle against the Borg Queen, had it survived the fallout? Did the might of the entire Klingon Empire stand against the Infested? Perhaps he read too much into it. Perhaps the Theurgy had managed to come across fresh Targ by some other means?

How, though? He found it unlikely that they would send people down to some Klingon planet just to hunt for targ and restock food supplies, since they did have replicators for a reason. Frowning, he pit his eating utensils down, and ran his tattooed hand through his hair, feeling how his heart was beating more quickly, realising that he had just learned something he shouldn't have, and that it might jeapordise the Theurgy a bit.

I can feel it, watching through my eyes... Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stilled his thoughts, not wishing to lash out against the Kzin for this error. It was the Brig officer who hadn't thought to screen what he'd been given to eat. He forced himself to smile, and hoped that what he'd learned hadn't become knowledge of the Infested. Like with the anyon emissions and the Radiant bioluminescence, Lucan hoped it would require another use of his farsight to let the parasite presence inside him commune with the nameless darkness. How else could the Theurgy have managed to hide from Sankolov? Surely it requires more than just my knowledge...

He forced himself to answer Deacon, hoping the lapse and silence could be seen as an emotional response to the taste of real food. "I don't know if w-we tend to eat like Humans might, but we do have some dishes that are a bit reminiscent of what I sampled at the Academy on Earth. Like renklamma, for example, it has tender meat from the animal that is its namesake, and we do tend to serve it with an array of different vegetables. Fruits and beans grown on the slopes of Envon, some of them mixed into a tangy sauce. We usually wash it down with makmyra, a drink made from fermented olives and grapes from the Wind Region, and you will likely think its a spicy wine. I hear Humans think it is good, if a bit high on alchohol."

Lucan paused there, and couldn't help but look at Deacon curiously, all the while trying to push aside the knowledge of what he'd just deduced, and what it might entail for the mission.

"I wonder... You come here, and yet you must know what's happened to me. Does it not bother you?"
  • Last Edit: November 18, 2019, 11:48:28 AM by Auctor Lucan

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #6
[ Deacon | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 

As Nicander reflected on the cuisine of his homeworld, Deacon nodded quietly, making a mental note to look into possible recipes for future.  "It sounds like something the humans call chutney," he stated, rubbing his chin, "but I'll make sure for next time.  As for the... makmyra...I'll have to rely on Taliesin for that.  I've come to the conclusion that I've no real tongue for alcohol... at least not without considerable effort to disguise the flavor."  His expression screwed with distaste, his recollection of the one night he actively sought to intoxicate himself still bitter in his mouth.  If not for the Klingon's quest to enjoy sweets, the night might otherwise have ended considerably less pleasant.

"I wonder... You come here, and yet you must know what's happened to me. Does it not bother you?"

Deacon sat back and considered.  Did it bother him?  Clearly not, at least no more than his own conscience had troubled him, but admitting such was a sign of selfishness and he questioned whether this was an instance where he might disclose too much truth.  Skewing his jaw slightly, he gave voice to the 'happening', "They say that you are one of these... Infected."  Setting his eyes on the doctor once more, he continued, "And you attacked some of the crew."  He held up a finger, "But since your apprehension, you have cooperated to better our situation.  That much speaks to the now."

His statement was accurate but did not convey the quintessence of his point.  "They say Câroon cannot be read telepathically."  If it was a simple matter of extracting the gene necessary for that gift, the Kzinti would descend on them like locusts.  Well, there was also the matter of the treaty with the Humans, who would likely take issue with such acts... although the Patriarchy seemed to care less about such considerations as months passed.  "But ziirgah isn't just... telepathy.  It's reading scents, tone, tension, mannerisms.  It's not flawless, but it usually gives us some hint when we should feel threatened."

His gaze locked on the doctor's.  "I have not felt threatened by you, doctor."  It was a statement that would likely lead to combat if stated to another Kzinti, or maybe even a Klingon... Nausican, Jem'Hadar... but Câroon?  He was uncertain how it would be taken.  "Shamed, perhaps," he added, thinking back to the dressing down, "but not threatened.  And your current actions strike me as someone that is far from committed to the extinction of the crew."

Of course, that wasn't to imply that he had any particular talent to empathically read the doctor.  But such was a combination of ignorance as to the nature of Câroon, a true lack of any perceived threat and a self-assurance that his particular senses were superior to those of any other.

There was more, however.  He'd merely touched on the most tangible and immediate of the potential threat and perhaps the doctor sought a more esoteric response.  "That aside, none of us lives forever.  If these... parasites were to end my life, then they only expedite that which awaits all mortals, but they are nothing before the Fanged God and in His service I shall earn my place in the Eternal Hunt."  With a tilt of his head, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.  "If you continue to defy them, I am certain He will honor your tenacity with a proper place in the Hunt as well."

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #7
[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
[Show/Hide]
While Dr. Nicander had little to no references to what the Kzin spoke of when he mentioned the Hunt and all that, he did have adequate knowledge to recognise how his former patient had other means to judge the extent of a threat that Lucan represented to him. Felnoids had great senses, but the question was if they could sense extra-dimensional intents.

Unlikely, but be that as it may, it did suggest something that the interrogators from the other day had not been willing to readily accept, that he - as a host - had meant them no harm. Since Starbase 84, when the Radiant had restored sanity to his mind, he had actively worked in favour of the mission. While he had done so, he may not have advertised what he carried or the threat he represented, but the Kzin had sensed how he while in his full faculties had not meant him any harm. He almost asked the proprietor of Below Decks to speak with Commander Ducote and Captain Ives, but refrained, since he hardly thought it would make any difference.

"Infested," he corrected mildly in the end between bites of the food, "yet semantics aside, the rumours are correct, only such seldom delve into the true circumstances of things. Hearsay tend to travel faster when detailed at face value, and oft grow more exaggerated. That being said, I was mortally wounded when the Savi attacked the ship, which made the thing inside me take over fully - keeping me alive but also suppressed 'me' completely. Only when Doctor Tyre, Rez and others restored my body could I resume control. Later, when I woke up, the ship was threatened, so I used an ability that my parasite-self had used. I believe it has been coined 'farsight' at this point."

Drinking from his glass, Lucan soon continued. "I was able to see through the eyes of another Infested. Doing so, I could espy the shield harmonics of the IKC Rotarran - someone like me being right behind High Chancellor Martok on its bridge. I told Commander Wenn Cinn, and then, the middle section of this ship - where we are now - could cause enough damage to the Klingon ship so that we might get away."

Frowning, Lucan looked towards the deck for a moment. "The problem was that... using the Farsight, you can't stare into the darkness without letting it blind you. Momentarily, the parasite had control of my actions, filled me with its rage... razed all control. So, when Doctor Maya tried to defend me against three armoured security officers who misinterpreted the situation, them believing that I was giving our shield harmonics to the Klingons instead, I was not myself. They struck her down... and I... I could not stop me from tearing into them."

Self defence? Hardly, not with such excessive force. If he had been able, he'd only protected himself and rendered them unconscious. No, seeing Maya on the deck had sparked something. A memory... of Kisane, and how he'd been too late to protect her. The nameless darkness had just fanned the flames of his rage, and scorched any hope for his redemption.

"When I... could calm down, it was too late. The three were dead, and I had unconcious Maya in my lap. I could determine that she'd survive, before she was beamed out of my reach. I have not seen her since, but I have heard she serves aboard still. If I may ask a favour... I would be grateful if she was given my regards, and my gratitude for protecting me back then. In fact, she ought to earn the gratitude of the entire crew that served on this Vector that day."

Slowly, Nicander picked up his eating utensils again with his mismatched hands, his frown still prevalent. "By the winds, it is such a shame that rumours tend to muddle the waters, and the truth is dampened by fear for the unknown. I thank you, Deacon, for not being one of those who give into fear. I believe this ship's dedication has something to say about that."


OOC: Perhaps Kaeris has arrived already and been listening from the front of the brig, waiting for his turn to approach? Up to you!
  • Last Edit: November 23, 2019, 12:45:16 PM by Auctor Lucan

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #8
[ Deacon | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 

Infected. Infested. Human words were too similar at times and too convoluted at others.  It was a term implying a diseased affliction requiring a form of cure.  Deacon's lips tightened slightly.  In this, the Heroes' Tongue was far more concise.  A term meant a term and seldom anything else.  Had his ears retained the capability, he'd likely have folded them back but as he was, they remained steadfastly affixed and immobile.  Still, the doctor's confession did give him moment to pause as he considered them.

He rubbed his chin.  "In such case, I would be averse to allow myself such an injury."  The statement was hardly enlightening, and he didn't expect it to be.  "But, failing that, may I recommend that sometimes it is easier to bend the rage than avert it?"  Arching an eyebrow, he proceeded.  "Speaking as an outside observer, I can't say I understand exactly what you might experience in such a moment or how much control you might assert, but I find it common that deprived of control, most attempt to either dam the flow of the river, or take their hands from the rudder and cease all effort.  Instead, find what you can control and focus your efforts there.  If the creature within you is angry, perhaps it needs a more appropriate target.  If it's hate is universal, why should it care if it annihilates a mutual enemy?"

Deacon had to admit, it was an interesting puzzle to consider, but for all the acclaimed loyalty of the Black Priesthood to the Patriarch, their unwavering loyalty was to the continuation and flourishing of their people.  This was not a topic discussed outside of the confines of the brotherhood but it was the basis of the argument he presented.  The Patriarch ruled, but within that rule, the Black Priests had centuries of experience manipulating the true power and eliminating threats behind the scenes, even if that threat was the Patriarch himself at times.

He frowned slightly at that thought.  It lead to another hole he did not wish to explore at this moment.

"Have you ever... spoken to this thing inside you?  I've heard rumors that these are agents of chaos and yet this seems a rather ordered way to behave."  Sitting back, he gave a distant look, considering.  "If there were some way to give it a... a voice, so to speak.  Not yours, but independent.  There might be some common ground if not with the entire species, then perhaps with that one alone.  Consider that peace with the Klingons was unfathomable years ago... and now there is an alliance.  Romulans?  Cardassians?  The Dominion?  I have heard tale that even the Borg had negotiated under the right circumstances."

Taking a breath, he held up his hand somewhat apologetically.  "My apologies for speaking out of turn.  Again, it is my nature.  I am a priest, after all, and 'infested' or not, you are still part of my pride and thus it is my focus to have a care for your well being.  The rest of it I leave as an offer, not a requisite."  His eyes shifted slightly to the right, his nostrils twitching slightly as he rose to stand.  "In the meantime, I have a class to attend.  Terran history.  Kzinti aren't particularly impartial on education pertaining to the Federation, so, as the humans might say, I'm expanding my horizons."

He tilted his head.  "I'll see if I can fit in a course on Câroon cuisine before next time."  Clearing his throat, he added, "And you appear to have another visitor."


[ Lt. Cmdr. Vael Kaeris | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan 

Vael had to admit he was more than a little curious when the guard on duty stated that the doctor already had a guest.  The brig seemed hardly an ideal space for such activities and given the circumstances he had witnessed in the past due to the doctor's past interactions, there was a slight apprehension as to what he might walk in on and why the guards seemed so uninterested in the exchange in progress.

As the door opened, he spied what, at first, appeared to be a large Vulcan male if not for his more relaxed appearance, cat-like tail and lithe movements.  The corners of Vael's mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.  Not Vulcan.  Almost Human.  This appeared to be the proprietor of the lounge area on Vector 3.  If not for his own assignment as the science officer of that vector, he might not have memorized the crew manifest as yet, given his particular focus.  A civilian -- half Human and half Kzinti, as he recalled, clearly the subject of manipulation from the Vigilants of Sa. 

Fortunately, the proprietor's expression appeared stoic, almost congenial, although a touch irritated at his own unannounced arrival.  "I was unaware that the doctor had a guest," he admitted.  He was frankly unaware that Lucan cin Nicander was entitled to guests under the circumstances, but at least they weren't the midst of a tirade pertaining to prior interludes of lust.  He supposed he could be thankful for that.

With an inclination of his head, the proprietor excused himself, slipping past Vael and departing the brig area.  Vael raised an eyebrow to the doctor, inviting an opportunity for explanation without the awkwardness of a potentially unanswered question.  True, he was curious.  He was always curious.  But such idle gossip was something he did not indulge in while on duty, and unless the information was voluntarily disclosed, it was not something he was inclined to pursue.
  • Last Edit: December 03, 2019, 07:39:51 AM by steelphoenix

Re: Day 14 [1300 hrs] With All Due Respect
Reply #9
[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
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What Deacon spoke of was entirely circumstantial and Lucan finished his meal while the lounge proprietor made his suggestion to try and direct the influence of the parasite.

"As much as it can be controlled, I have, sparing many lives in doing so," he said, and shrugged with one shoulder as she put his eatings utensils back on the plate. "Yet you speak of directing damage, and I am a Starfleet officer as well as a Doctor. I really shouldn't indulge any such notions, beneficial as it could be depending on circumstances. I... think I see what you are suggesting, but my experience says it's not a reliable solution. There can't be any peace, that much is certain, and as for any vestigial order they maintain, it's provided by the hosts alone. Without the hosts to direct and arrange for sequential events, the darkness just corrupt and consume in its insatiable need to for more."

Lucan had smiled and inclined his head when Deacon excused himself. "Thank you, it would be my priviledge if you could make something native to my people. Good luck in your class."

Then, another man appeared outside the forcefield, and Lucan rose to his feet. "Commander Kaeris! What a delight, how goes the research?" he asked, and then realised that the Bactrican had glanced towards the retreating figure of Deacon. "Ah, yes, an old patient of mine, grateful that I saved his life."

Lucan walked to the forcefield, eager to hear what brought the scientist back to the Brig.

"Pray tell, have you found a way to deal with our precarious little situation? I remember you had plenty of alternatives to pick between."


OOC: With the lack of further dialogue from Vael I figured this was an ideal place to stop it, since i don't want to put words in his mouth. :)