Posted by Ensign Mike Jones (Doctor) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge

Posted by Tom L in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge

Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Captain) in Main Sim [Sickbay]: The Balancing Edge
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

—[SNIP]—

The Klingon looked at where Ensign Sacco was still unconscious, then to where Hab’rabi had found himself. The world still jerked and twitched around him, and he grit his teeth against its ebb and flow. He was very relieved that the alien lord was still out of commission. That was not, however, what bothered him.

“I do not know for certain,” Kohr said in a slow, measured tone. His gaze moved beyond Captain Rende and into that ephemeral middle distance where all mysteries held answers, searching and yet unable to grasp it. “There are no words to describe what I felt beyond a force, as powerful as a storm and yet infinitely delicate. It—no, that is not correct, they—came and…”

The commander took a deep breath to steady himself, gripping the edge of the biobed hard enough that the knuckles on the one hand paled. Leather creaked, anger crackled in the back of his throat. “Words are sand in my grasp, Captain. We struggled. They fought for control, but not as one. And then… nothing until I awoke to find myself helpless.”

“But I can still feel them,” he growled softly, staring at Rende, “like blood dripping from my mind. While I cannot logically explain why I know as I do, I am certain that Hab’rabi is not our ally. When I think of the Viking, I am filled with an urge—a hunger—for it. I look at Hab’rabi and feel a fear and loathing, and a powerful desire to stop him… and destroy him if necessary.”

Rende nodded listening, in no hurry to rush him. What few people understood was that El-Aurians go their empathy through speech. It was the emotion connected to the words that fed that sense. Hence why they were a race of ‘listenners.’ When he paused, “One of the doctors had a similar experience, but she did not report anything hostile. She recorded her impressions, perhaps, even if words are difficult, you should do the same.”

Kohr took another long slow breath. The monitors displaying his vitals showed his heart thundering in his chest, spikes in adrenaline, increased oxygen intake—all the hallmarks of an intense fight-or-flight response. Another breath, and the Klingon’s shoulders dropped a fraction. He would not allow the swirling emotions to drag him under. He gave the captain a very fixed look.

“I request to be relieved of duty and confined to quarters,” he stated flatly. “I have seen the influence these things have over our crew—a lowering of inhibition and self-control. In my current emotional state, I am a danger to our guest and any crewman that might come between us. Given my current physical condition, I would not be a boon to you regardless, and I am at least capable of sitting at a desk and assisting in coordinating our efforts should you refuse my request.”

“The doctors have found a way to detect if you are being influenced. So once they have cleared you we could use you on the bridge Cmdr. Yorba has been there for awhile. And though he is an exceptional officer it would go a long way for everyone to see you back on the bridge and coordinating our efforts.” A wicked gleam came to her eye as she appraised him, “Or maybe you should wait in the Cpt’s Yacht?”

Kohr hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “While I do not enjoy the idea of being somewhat unstable among the crew, I would prefer to focus on the mission if at all possible. Thankfully I am regaining sensation in my legs. Very well, I will return to the bridge once I am cleared for duty.”

The Klingon glanced over at Hab’rabi, and the monitors shrilled a warning at his vitals. “We must contain him—and those strange energy beings—until we are able to definitively discern his motives. That, I do know for certain.”
—Kohr, Executive Officer

“Woods is working with Weir down in engineering on a solution. And these things are running willy nilly about the ship. They should have a solution soon. But apparently, if we can hit them with a phaser it will take them out. And Hab’rabi isn’t going anywhere except maybe back to his ship, without the anti-matter.”

“We should take the opportunity to study the vessel more thoroughly if at all possible,” Kohr noted. “We have an obligation to the Federation to study this new civilization, if for no other reason than to defend ourselves from these types of encounters. There are also others of his kind aboard who may need our assistance, regardless of the misdeeds of their leader.”

Rende nodded, there was much still to be learned. “Take care of it. We don’t want to leave those people there if we can help them. Send over whoever you need too but no more visitors and they need to be screened before and after they go over. Even if they do have the monitors. Hopefully Semenza has Hab’rabi awake soon.”

“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

Rende turned at the sound of new arrivals hoping it wasn’t a case of more ‘visited’ crew. The highly armed Captain (assault phaser rifle, boot knives, and grenades were the most obvious) was relieved it was the security detail she’d requested. T’Vor did quick scans of them both, despite having passed through two check points to get there. “NE Tomlinson, there” she pointed to one of the solitary rooms. “Position yourselves outside the door. We have reason to believe he’s going to make an attempt to take over the ship. Only Dr Semenza, his essential staff, and senior staff is allowed in, after being cleared of the motes.”

Tomlinson acknowledged the order and went outside the door. Guard duty was exactly what he signed up for. However, securing a patient was new to him. He mentally scanned the deck and checked the ways of approach to this place. He also imagined possible scenarios just in case. This chaos must be caused by this person. He thought, with a relaxed standing posture.

NE Tomlinson, Security

She turned back to Kohr, her hand reached for the reassuring feel of the sleek metal of her rifle. “He might be bigger than me, but that just means he’ll go down harder. He’ll learn Cmdr, no one takes my ship.”

Rende, CO

Rende

Kohr attempted to stand once more, growled as he slumped against the side of the biobed. He glared away attempts to help him back to his seat. Such weakness was not acceptable! He did, however, find consolation in that his knees had held even for a moment. The Klingon would recover, of that he was certain.

“Perhaps I require more time to properly recover, Captain,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “However, this is not the place for me to be for such.”

Kohr had a point. “Alright Cmdr, but how do you plan to get there?” He was going to have to have help OR stay and endure the nurses until his legs were fully responsive again. “Monitor ship’s comms and the continual reports. And get fitted with a band before you go.” Rende didn’t need her empathy to identify the look on Kohr’s face very time he looked at Hab’rabi. The only reason that man wasn’t back on his ship was because she wanted answers…oh and they let the ship drift away. Time to go get it.

The commander tried very hard to keep his eyes fixed on Rende and the doctor; every time his gaze drifted towards Hab’rabi, his vitals jumped. It was also a matter of personal pride for him. A warrior either died from his injuries or recovered to fight again. There was no honor in laying about, being tended to by nurses and fretted over like some ailing babe. He could feel his clarity returning, his body reacting more as he would expect. Recovery would take time and nothing more. He would be much more useful to the captain at his desk, away from sympathetic eyes. Kohr’s desire to kill Hab’rabi provided him all the more reason to be gone from Sickbay.
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

She turned to Tomlinson, “En you have your orders, but I want to know the second our guest wakes up. I’ll be on the bridge.” Rende tapped her combadge, =/\=Rende to Bridge. Flip this boat around and go pick up that alien ship!=/\= as she left sickbay heading for the nearest lift.

Rende, CO

The NE paused for a moment for a task that was supposed to be carried out by the medical team. “… Aye, Captain.” He assured to the fully armed skipper.

NE Tomlinson, Security

Mike had come in from the lab and had been busy checking on the empty beds in case he had more patients show up. It was not a thought that he relished but one that he had to prepare for, nonetheless. He soon came to Kohr’s bed and smiled joyfully at him saying, “Well Commander you certainly look a lot better!” Mike then looked up at the commanders’ vitals for a moment before he looked at Kohr and said, “Commander I understand you are experiencing weakness. This is quite normal as you were incapacitated for some time. During that time, you were unable to take in any solid food. Not something that a person of your vigorous physiology can handle very well. So, I have a prescription for you that you may like. It seems that the last time we took on supplies we also took on a chilled container. It seems that inside said container are some little creatures being held in a state of hibernation. I believe you know these creatures as Gagh.Would you like for us to bring them out of hibernation for you?”

Ensign Mike Jones MD

Kohr could only blink for a moment, stunned. Seething rage boiled along his bones and blistered his veins. He stood slowly on shaky legs, clenching his fists so hard his leather gauntlet crackled in his grip. Never in his many years as a Klingon warrior had he ever felt so patronized! He bared his teeth in a silent snarl, jaw clenched tight enough that the tendons in his neck thrust against his skin. Carefully—so very, very carefully—Kohr hauled back on the reigns of his fiery temper. He could not lose control now, not yet.

“Gagh will not whet my appetite, Doctor,” he purred slowly. The Klingon thrust out a meaty hand to grasp the air in a savage grip between them. “Only the still-beating heart of that petaq in my hand and his blood coursing down my fangs will satisfy me this day!”

“You!” he snarled then, thrusting a finger at one of the security officers standing guard over Sacco’s inert form. “Attend me. Now!“

The security officer shuffled slowly closer as if expecting the Klingon to descend upon him with mountainous wrath at any moment. Kohr hooked a thick arm around the man’s neck and propelled them both towards the door leaving Sickbay. Despite his shuffling and slightly unsteady gait, the warrior managed much on his own power. The gathered staff looked curiously between Jones and Kohr, the air crackling with anxious anticipation.

“I will be in my quarters,” Kohr grumbled as the door hushed open.
—Kohr, Executive Officer—