Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Captain) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge

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

Posted by Ensign Mike Jones (Doctor) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

—[SNIP]—

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.

Ensign Mike Jones Dr.

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!”

Ensign Mike Jones Dr.

Kalika waited patiently, wondering briefly just how much patience she had left to draw from. But just before she was reaching a point where her temper would take, the exam was done. She’d been allowed to change into dry gym gear and had managed to mostly towel dry her hair. She still felt slightly disjointed, but was starting to settle down. Lost time, visions, and memories of things she’d done kept flitting through her mind. It was like trying to grasp onto dreams when most of the day had already waned.

She bit her tongue, folded the now damp towel, setting it on the biobed beside her, and waited for the results. She needed to get back to her security duties… Soon!

Kalika
Security

Like a moth to a flame, Kalika’s disgruntled energy seemed to summon a rather stern-faced woman clutching a PaDD under one arm. A lieutenant by the pip on her medical officer’s collar and a woman on a mission by the flare of her white coat behind her. Stopping in front of Kalika, she sized the security officer up and made a face before tapping away at her PaDD. Nurse Hofmann bore her own displeasure like a grandmother with too much to do and not enough time to have it done. Holding aloft her stylus like a queen about to make a proclamation, she fixed her eyes on Kalika.

“Miss Darz, while I can appreciate the urge to return to your duty station,” she murmured flatly while she referred to her data, “gawping about isn’t going to make this go a-a-any faster. Luckily for you, there appear to be no lasting effects that we can detect. You are free to go.”

The woman held up a slender finger. “However, you are to report to the nearest checkpoint every hour for a scan until we can get… whatever this is under control. Carry on.”

Turning away without further thought, Nurse Hofmann’s next stop was the adjacent room where Sharah was dutifully toiling away on her portable scanners. Nodding softly in approval, she tapped at her PaDD and made a thoughtful sound.

“Miss Fayth, you’ve been cleared for duty, though I’d like to continue to monitor your vitals.” The stylus waggled in the direction of the completed monitors. “It looks like you’ve got enough of those armband whats-its to go around. Be a dear and pass them out before you go, show everyone how they work. I’ll have someone pass the modifications to a few handy lads in engineering, get more done up and out to the staff. At least, for now, we’ll have the department heads looked after. Any questions? No? Good, carry on.”

Sharah looked up and nodded. No doctor argued with the head nurse. And Hofmann was a force of nature. Sharah secretly adored her, but was never brave enough to say that out loud. Hofmann would probably tell her she didn’t have time for such nonsense. Sharah slipped one of the bands onto her own arm and turned it on. Using a tricorder to double check it was working, she then grabbed an empty medical case and placed several inside and closed it: senior staff and repair teams. Anyone or group that didn’t have a medical officer with them. Then she headed out of sickbay to distribute them.

Whisking off yet again, Nurse Hofmann made her way to an office console and tapped in a few commands. =^=Hofmann to Linch. Report to Sickbay immediately.=^=

=^=Y-Yes, ma’am.=^= came a timid reply. =^=I’ll be there shortly. Linch out.=^=

A few minutes later, Ensign Linch nearly trotted through the doors. She looked about quickly, then made her way over to the appropriate office. Nurse Hofmann handed the younger woman three of the armbands she’d taken from Lieutenant Fayth’s pile. The flat square plates affixed to the bands blinked angrily as they were tumbled from one hand to the other. Tapping one with her stylus, Nurse Hofmann stared pointedly at Ensign Linch.

“Take these back to the brig, would you?” Hofmann’s voice left no room for debate. “There should be enough for the captain, our counselor, and that strapping intelligence officer. Make certain they are working properly first—and scan the captain twice!—before you release any of them back to duty. Let them know their scans are fine… or as fine as they can be, given the situation. Well, don’t just stand there mouthing at me like a landed fish! Out, out, out! We’re on yellow alert, not a relaxation break.”

Linch all but fled Sickbay.
—Jas—

Fayth, med

Kohr continued to do battle with the fell forces of consciousness, gaining just enough ground to open his eyes before being overwhelmed and slipping back into fitful sleep. Ever his faithful ally, the cortical stimulator continued its work jolting his synaptic pathways back along their proper course. Each time the Klingon surged to the surface and opened his eyes, it was for a longer period; eventually he was able to look about through slitted lids from a swimming skull on a boneless neck. He tried his best to form thoughts, to push pressing words through the fog in his mind to the fore. It was taking all he had just to stave off the darkness baying at his heels.

“Mu…” he gasped, growling against the inexorable pull of exhaustion, “…ti… ny…”
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

Mike was just that in that instant coming back to Kohr’s bio-bed. As he stopped to check on Kohr’s vials he saw him trying to speak again. He arched his eyebrows and asked no one in particular. “Mutiny? My goodness it sounds like you have a fight on your hands somewhere Commander.” Mike once again checked his vitals, and satisfied that his patient was making progress he started him on a saline drip to keep him hydrated and then turned quickly on his heel in search of something else which would require his attention.

Ensign Mike Jones Dr.

Rende’s next stop was sickbay. Everything seemed to be happening there and Kohr had been injured, attacked, she wasn’t sure, but she was going to go check and see how he was doing. Checking the patient list as she entered it said Dr Jones was attending to Kohr. She stopped the first medical officer she saw and asked, “Dr. Jones please.” She pointed ithat n the right direction and made her way over. “Dr. Jones. How is Cmdr Kohr?”

“I, “Mike began to answer Rende. “He’s doing somewhat better actually.” It was then that the sound of a falling body interrupted their conversation.

Ensign Mike Jones doctor

Rende leaned to the side to look where Dr Jones was going and shook her head with a smirk. Impressive, very impressive Cmdr Kohr. I doubt you’ll like getting hauled back to bed anymore than I would. She followed at a distance so as not to get in the way.

Relative silence pervaded the room, and something inside the Klingon did not enjoy that in the least. Groaning softly, Kohr slowly opened his eyes and strained to sit up. His lip curled into a silent snarl as he plucked the cortical stimulators from his ridged brow and set them on the bed. His movements were still shaky and disjointed, his head wobbling on his thick neck and eyes struggling to focus. Gritting his teeth, Kohr slapped his chest angrily.

“Computer, where is…” He blinked, his baritone lilting gently in befuddlement. “Where… Where is my comm badge?”

Growling low in his throat, the Klingon gripped the edge of the biobed and heaved himself onto his feet. Shaky legs threatened to buckle beneath him, but a glare at such weakness reminded them who was in charge. Sadly, however, it was gravity and not the commander, and he collapsed. The floor swam and surged beneath him, but Kohr would not be deterred. Heaving himself along with all his might, the Klingon slid himself along the floor with his elbows, grunting a grim staccato the entire way.

“Must,” he snarled, thumping along with the tatters of his honor tangled about his worthless legs. “Tell. The captain.”
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

Mike had heard the somewhat loud to say the least thump on the floor. He turned quickly and moved in the general direction from which it had come. When he saw Kohr trying and failing at both crawling and putting together a complete sentence he could only smile and shake his head. He was just happy to see him actually trying to breath let alone do anything else. He watched him for a moment longer to ascertain his current limits before he called for a couple of orderlies. Walking up to Kohr then he looked down at him and then said in a not very kind sounding voice. “What you MUST do Commander is to get back into bed where you belong. And you will stay there until such time that I release you. If you have anything you have to tell the captain, you can call from your bed. Understood?” It was about the time he ended his sentence when an orderly took him by the upper arm and another orderly grabbed him under his shoulder as they gently lifted him toward his bed.

Ensign Mike Jones. doctor

Rende, CO

Rende bit the inside of her cheek hard to stop from laughing. Dr. Jones might be small, compared to the massive Klingon, but he had fire in his blood, that was for sure. She watched as the two nurses bodily pick up Kohr and lift him back to the biobed. She stepped up to Jones and quietly, “What’s wrong with his legs?” A warrior who could not stand on his own two feet and fight, often made very black and white choices. Hopefully it was something reversible or would heal given enough time.

Kohr’s displeasure at having to be lifted back to the biobed fair crackled in the air, and he glared at the ensign the entire journey. There was a deep twinge of satisfaction at the fact the pair of nurses struggled briefly under the weight of his frame, but it paled against the mortification that he required help at all. The doctor did, indeed, have the authority to relieve even the captain from duty under certain conditions. The Klingon grit his teeth and nodded curtly, taking solace in the fact that he could keep himself upright. By Kahless, what was wrong with him?!

“I understand,” he growled. Then slowly he added, “So long as I am able to attend my duty to the safety of this ship and crew.”

Kohr’s wrath was averted when he noticed Captain Rende standing in the anteroom. He gripped the edge of the biobed with the impulse to rise, but with Doctor Jones hovering nearby, he thought twice. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head and instead leaned forward.

“Captain,” he bellowed loud enough to make a drill sergeant proud, “we must take Hab’rabi into custody. He has plans to take over the ship!“
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

Rende made her way into the room, glad to see he was at least sitting up and balanced on his own. The bellow, for just a moment, brought her up to an immediate at attention, head held high, shoulders back, posture perfect, and heels almost clicking together. She’d find it amusing if the situation on the ship wasn’t so dire. “Hab’rabi is unconscious and here in sickbay.” Rende pointed, directing his attention to the room across from his. “He was shot point blank by NE Sacco who…” she turned to look, “there.”

=/\=Rende to Security.=/\=

=/\=Security here, Ma’am.=/\=

=/\=I need an additional two man team up her in sickbay to guard a patient. Get them through the check points on the double.=/\=

=/\=Yes Ma’am.=/\= (OOC: Anyone, security or otherwise is welcome to play an NE or (if security) themselves, but it’s guard duty and you’ll be standing around.)

“Alright Kohr, tell me everything, teach me. And First and foremost are these motes…these lights, a threat to the ship?”

Rende, CO

“Let’s go. You heard the Captain. That means you, Tomlinson!” The NE pulled his phaser and had an energy level check. Type 2 was a standard issue for the security team, and they were allowed to carry it most times. Since the task was to protect a patient, no additional equipment was in need at this time. =^= This is Tomlinson. Comms check, Sir. =^= Clear, now get yourself up to the sick bay. =^= After smoothly passing checkpoints from Deck 8 to Deck 6, he arrived at the sick bay and opened its hatch.

NE Tomlinson, Security