Posted by Commander Kohr (Executive Officer) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge

Posted by Kvasir (Story Teller) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

—[SNIP]—

The sedative, while somewhat effective on reducing Commander Kohr’s blood pressure and higher brain functions, it had almost the inverse effect on his autonomic systems. His respiration dipped, becoming shallow and shaky, the muscles of his arms and legs twitching just beneath the surface of his skin. It appeared that attempting to slow down the storm of activity only served to send the more primitive parts of the Klingon’s mind into a frenzy! Could this be due to the electrostatic conduction racing rampant along his synapses? Or was some other phenomenon at work here? Either way, Kohr’s mental scans were awash with surges of haphazard signal, a complex network of circuitry that had been shorted out by his encounter with the strange energy motes. If only there were a way to stimulate his neural pathways, remind them of their normal and natural processes…

Mike had come back at the request of the nurse and now stood looking at Kohr’s data being displayed. He looked at Kohr’s body and it was plain to see that he was seizing. While he had managed to get part of his mind back to working order the result was causing Kohr to have a seizure.

Mike rubbed his chin thinking about this for a minute. Did the Commander have a history of seizures? Mike’s first thought was to leave well enough alone. If the Commander had a history of seizures, then this would pass soon, and he would be awake, tired and grumpy in no time.

This of course would be great if the seizure hadn’t seemed to have happened in conjunction with his previous treatment. The problem was the sedative should have simply shut down the extra electrical activity in the largest part of his brain to some extent, since most activity is chemical. And even the electrical activity relies on chemicals to some extent. Mike gnawed on his bottom lip nervously for a moment as he wondered whether or not to try a Benzodiazepine.
These were good medicines for seizures as well as a muscle relaxer, along with several other problems of the brain.

Mike tapped his fingers on the edge of the bilobed as he weighed his options. The wild idea of using a transporter came to mind. They had bio-filters which would filter out any known biohazard or anything it didn’t recognize. At least that’s what Mike was thinking. He’d need an engineer for that and preferably a patient in better condition to go through first before he tried it on Kohr. His only other two options were to stop and restart his heart. Not the first thing to do in any circumstance. Or pull something out of the stone age and give the commander electroshock. This would of course cause limited brain damage that he wouldn’t get over for a minimum of two weeks depending upon the nimbleness of his mind.

In the end Mike went to get the appropriate Benzodiazepine drug and the appropriate dosage for his patient. After doing so he decided to now wait for a few more seconds to see if the storm in his patient’s mind would dissipate. If not, he would go to the next option. Quite possibly stone age medicine!

Ensign Mike Jones Doctor

As the drugs seeped into the commander’s system and began to take hold, a pattern began to emerge. Outside the brain, the nervous system and impulse reaction both processed as would be expected, but the Klingon’s brain continued to surge and spark. With the surrounding bodily functions muted, the computer was more clearly able to display the problem: the electrostatic energy sheathing his neurons in the synaptic cleft. Much like his thought about the biofilters, this energy seemed to insulate Kohr’s neural pathways and allow them to conduct synaptic firing more efficiently; it also seemed to boost his body’s natural ability to counteract the drugs, if not simply repel them and prevent them from properly bonding.

The computer chimed again and new data began to flow down the screen displaying his vitals. The nanoprobes moving rather benignly throughout the Klingon’s body, normally defunct and blithe in their activity, seemed jolted into action and were showing an increased buildup in the central lateral thalamus. Meanwhile the commander’s body continued to twitch and jolt, as if his mind were trying to simply will itself awake. Perhaps a jolt in the right direction from something such as a cortical stimulator could encourage the Klingon’s brain to “reboot.”

Mike ground his teeth together as he continued to watch the readouts. He was trying not to, but despite self control he was growing angry . This was his backyard. This was what he knew . What he had done thus far should have worked .

He stood there frowning, his mind churning. He was going over the basic functions of the mind. Chemicals make the electrostatic charges which carry information from one neuron to the other where the information is decoded and sent down the line by another set of chemicals. For some reason this was not happening.

“Well danged if you ain’t a thirty-pound great white ‘possum in the cookie jar.” Mike mumbled. “You have to be a parasite or something close to it.” He then changed the settings on the scanner to measure the Megahertz of those electrostatic charges. There were two different readings. “Gothcha !” Mike said as he hit the edge of the bilobed with such enthusiasm that he nearly caused another sickbay casualty.

Mike was not a proponent of anything invasive but at this point he was running out of ideas. He got the cortical stimulator but then what to set it on? Finally, he put the setting to the normal 40 Megahertz setting and attached the machine to the commander. If he was guessing right this would give the normal brain waves in the commander a boost. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and muttered something beneath his breath before turning the cortical stimulator on
Ensign Mike Jones Dr.

Sharah laid on the bio bed while V’tor completed her scans. Without something to focus on the telepathic and empathic input she was getting was overwhelming. The crew as speculating and worried and there was a deep undercurrent of paranoia. Not to mention the intense grief and … how did one describe the feeling of dying? It wasn’t the first time Sharah had been caught in that moment with another being, but it was never easy. In fact it was terryfing. She had no idea who that mote had been, but she was convinced, with the dream like memories she had retained, it had been a person at a point in time.

V’tor, being Vulcan would not understand her grief or the tears the threatened to fall, and so she did her best to keep it to herself. Finally V’tor was finished with her scans. (ooc: copying from above) Sharah does not have the electrostatic energy anywhere but the area of her brain associated with telepathy. Her hippocampus shows signs of stress and high activity, which is not surprising given her experience. Perhaps the oddest result of her scan is the increase in synaptic paths deep within the hippocampus, suggesting that the interaction with the energy mote was beginning to form new pathways. This would go far to explain why she was able to recall the images from her experience, and why she feels like there was more just beyond the grasp of her understanding.

From her biobed she had the ability to access what was going on around her since Semenza didn’t lock her out of sickbay systems. Plus he gave her the mobile monitors, so she had to assume he wanted her to do something with them. With something to do, her focus returned, slowly, and she was able to surf above the noise, but the grief stayed with her.

The computer’s chime with Hab’rabi’s results only added to the confusion and activity brimming in Sickbay. The computer didn’t care; it had work to do, after all, and couldn’t be bothered with trivialities like anxiety and confusion. A display winked to life near the alien’s biobed with his vital signs—not to mention a healthy dose of error margin when it came to certain functions, the chief of which was his brain—showing concerning markers that hovered just between yellow and green. His hearts rate seemed a little elevated, but all other functions appeared to be at a resting rate similar to other, unconscious species.

It was obvious to even the untrained that Hab’rabi’s brain scan was a thing of diagnostic nightmares. Nearly every neuron was active and working at a frenzied pace, painting the inside of his skull in a nebulous lightning storm of sensory input. The portions of his brain closest to the site of phaser impact was noticeably darker, the signals coursing through them a bit scattered and sluggish. It was eerily similar to the erratic patterns found in Kohr’s cranial scans, though the Klingon was suffering far worse. While a phaser set to stun normally disrupted the body’s sensory receptivity, it should not have been responsible for this kind of physical damage even at the highest settings. Hab’rabi’s body seemed genetically disposed to resist injury, and yet there it was.

A clear fact would leap out to the trained eye, however: every area of Hab’rabi’s brain was pervaded by the presence of the same electrostatic charge found in the other affected patience. The different was that his levels were significantly higher and were not dissipating. In fact there was a portion of his brain that seemed specifically designed to accommodate and support this type of charge. It was a sort of loci between the two hemispheres of his brain—frontal and posterior—that could serve to facilitate communication between the two halves at the very least, and one that showed actual and rapid fluctuations of activity. Something was definitely going on in there. Whatever it was, it was definitely going to take time and study before results could be gleaned.
—Jas—

Through the next hour Sharah studied the results of everyone’s scans, including Hab’rabi’s. After her own experience she was certain the cause of the strange behavior was an interaction with the motes. Although her scans showed the creation of new memory engrams the side effects were the same. What was consistent was the electrostatic discharge. Even she had it, in her paracortex instead of the synaptic cleft. But the electrostatic energy pattern was the same. It wasn’t there before contact, but was after. And looking at Hab’rabi’s scans, and the greater strength of the electrostatic charge it was like he was in constant contact with them. Lots of them. That was a hypothesis though, and would need to be confirmed. But that was it. “V’tor, I need to talk to Semenza. I know he’s busy, but I think I know how to clear everyone through the check points.” While she waited for Semenza to arrive she started programming the mobile monitors to detect the electrostatic pattern and alarm when it occurred.

Once Semenza walked over Sharah didn’t waist time. “It’s the electrostatic energy in the synaptic cleft. The hormones and even the PFC activity isn’t in every one. It’s not there before contact with the motes, and afterwards it is but it dissipates quickly. So it must build and maintain starting at the point of contact. We can set the mobile monitors up to read for that energy pattern and alarm and notify the people nearby that someone is in contact with one of the motes. The quarantine check point teams can do the same thing with their tricorders. Allowing us to have enough mobile monitors for the security and engineering teams.”

Fayth, med

The door to Sickbay hushed open once again and two security officers tromped in nearly dragging a third across their shoulders. A red-faced ensign looked around with a rather put-out expression before pushing up against his burden and setting his legs beneath him.

“Well, we made it… finally,” he grumbled to his partner. Then, louder, “Cosgrove with a package for the medical folks. Where do you want Sacco? The fool wound himself up so tight on the walk here that he passed out.”

Blinking, Cosgrove shook his head at the sight of so many people. “Assuming there’s room, yeah?”
—Jas—

Mike turned away from the XO then to see the two carrying Sacco. Mike looked around and then turned back to the security men. Although he was wanting to try his theory with the transporter, the CMO was busy and couldn’t be bothered so Mike jus motioned across the room and said simply. “Bed four guys and thanks.”

Ensign Mike Jones DR.

With a brisk nod, the two security officers deposited Ensign Sacco where they were told. Cosgrove took a moment to engage a restraining field around the detainee’s unconscious body before moving to the door. “We’ll be right outside if you need us.”

V’Tor walked over flipping on the biobed and monitors. The bed ran basic physical scans while V’Tor, using his tricorder, took detailed neurological scans, much as Fayth had done with Fairweather, before she went and illogically got herself taken off duty. Betazoids…so much emotion and feeling. It was disturbing.

NE V’Tor

Initial scans showed the same electrostatic charge in Sacco’s synaptic cleft as the other crew members who had experienced—there was no clear definition for it yet, sadly. possession? contact? influence?—an interaction with the alien energy moving about the Viking. It was dissipating, albeit more slowly, but that was easily explained by the security officer’s breakdown and collapse earlier; his body was awash with adrenaline and other neurochemicals that it had shut down from raw shock and overexposure. The poor fellow was going to wake up in a lot of pain, surely.

Ensign Sacco’s experience had also left him with quite a bit of damage to both the frontal lobe and cerebellum. Neurons in those areas show extensive weakening and overstimulation, like wires that had carried too much current. While the security officer might fully recover given the proper treatment, his finer motor control skills would be out of commission for the foreseeable future; given that he—or whatever had influenced him—had coldly incapacitated someone in his charge, perhaps that was a good thing. Similar neural scarring was also present in his prefrontal cortex where there was still bursts of activity. Sacco’s eyes darted about behind his closed lids like a man in the grips of some nightmare; his vital signs confirmed his agitated, if unconscious, state.

Mike had treated Commander Kohr and stayed beside him just long enough to see that the Cortical Stimulator wasn’t doing any damage at least before he headed in the direction of his new patient. Looking at the readings he could see that anything he could do for Sacco would have to wait. He was drifting slowly toward what he would soon discover would be his new normal. He entered directions for the nurses to keep an eye out for when he regained consciousness. He would need some special attention to help him come to grips. He would also be needing physical and mental testing and subsequent therapy. His mind would recover but it would take time as it would have to literally rewire itself.

Meanwhile, Commander Kohr was responding well to the cortical stimulation. While he had not regained consciousness, his seizure ticks began to subside and both heart rate and respiration slid back toward a more normal state for a Klingon. A limb or digit would still jerk as the artificial stimulation helped his body relearn where to send their impulses, but nothing leapt out as alarming or even mildly concerning. Kohr’s head lolled back and forth, and his lips worked silently as his brain activity normalized and moved towards a more alpha state of semi-consciousness.
—Jas—

bum… ba-dum… bum… ba-dum…

Closer now, but still so far. It pulsed against him, waves trying to drown him. Movement again, this time within. It surged upward, outward. He followed.

bum… ba-dum… bum… ba-dum

A shrill cut through the blinding dark. Light seeped in like blood from a wound, staining the emptiness. He recoiled. It lashed at him, grappled him. Hauled him upward. He tugged, fought, thrashed to no avail. Up and up and up, endlessly. Briefly.

Kohr pulled a slow breath into lungs cast from iron. The air was stale, artificial, but oh so sweet. His mind reached outward, searching along the corridors of his body. It felt as immovable as a mountain, and yet there was relief. The ache in his head was joy, the cramp in his arm ecstasy. His mouth was a dry riverbed, his throat a desert trail. Kohr pushed hard against the darkness clinging to the inside of his skull, but it would not budge. Blood thundered in his ears with the steadiness of a drumbeat. Gathering up all his energy, he threw himself against the weight of his own body. It would move!

“W-water,” he rasped distantly, ashamed at how weak it rang in his own ears.

The darkness rolled over him, embraced him, dragged him down and down and down. He thrashed against it, but it was too powerful. Relenting finally, it consumed him. Only the emptiness was left, and the drums.

bum… ba-dum… bum… ba-dum…
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

Mike as he stepped away from Sacco he heard the sound coming from Kohr. He walked over and heard him ask for water. A huge smile seemed to explode from the young doctor’s face as he saw the new readouts and watched as Kohr struggled. He quickly fixed a bottle of cool water and moved to the edge of Kohr’s bed. He reached behind his head and then lifted Kohr’s head upward. He then let several drops of the cool liquid drip down across the Commanders lips. ” Come on Commander show us what you Klingons are made of. Fight the good fight!”