Ensign Phrik - Curbing an arms race (Tags: Tatash/Taelon)

[dan.prior1701]

((Starbase 118 - Medical Wing))

 

 

::Phrik felt the sound of the trolley and he took a step back from Tatash, flipping up his tricorder with a satisfying click. He turned to face the door and waved the man, and his array of machinery into the room. Phrik glanced over Taelon before focusing his gaze on the tray of prosthetics. He couldn’t ascertain much without a full scan, but they seemed to be very competently designed.::

 

Tatash: What's this?

 

Taelon: Oh! It’s, well, they, they’re the frameworks for arms. For your arm, that is. ::He beamed.::

 

Phrik: You should consider yourself lucky. Few patients get to choose from such a… ::He searched for the right word:: diverse array of prosthetics.

 

Tatash: You mean I get to actually choose the one I want?

 

Taelon: Err, yes. You get to choose one. ::He looked at Phrik again, tilting his head.::

 

Taelon: I’m sorry, I - Aren’t you from the Avalon, Doctor?

 

Phrik: ::He gave a short nod.:: I am

 

Taelon: Oh! Yes! You’re that Edosian Doctor Ezo had sedated. I’m glad to see you’re up and about.

 

Tatash: She got you too huh? I'm beginning to wonder if she finds us easier to deal with asleep.

 

Phrik: There’s a reason sedatives are every doctors’ favourite tool.  

 

Taelon: Err, yes, right - so these are in their basic forms right now, without the full nanofiber ligaments and supports.…

 

::Phrik folded his arms and watched as the Gorn began examining the prosthetics. The first seemed to be standard affair, what most amputees ended up with. The surgery required to attach it, would be easy, at least when compared to the other selections.::

 

Taelon: These are just the standard frames for now. I had the replicators whip them out so you can choose a direction. Your requirements are a little different, but, that one you’ve got is the most basic model. That’d be ideal if all you want is to restore an arm and have basic strength and capabilities, and we can simulate skin to cover it. Or scales, as the case may be.

 

::Tatash kept studying it as Taelon peered closer at the stump that was left from his surgery. Already it was starting to heal up, albeit a disjointed mess of scales and surgical marks.::

 

Tatash: I was hoping for something with a bit more... oomph?

 

::The doctor quirked his brow in resignation. He knew where this was going.::

 

Taelon: S-sorry! Right. Erm, that’s the good thing about cybernetics, sir! You can restore and improve.  

 

Taelon: This model’s hand has a built in tricorder and a light weaver! ::He beamed.:: Depending on the feature set these can be modified for scientific or spec ops; the forearm can carry an interfacing unit or a concealed weapon. I...I’m not sure how legal the last one is, actually. So maybe you don’t want that option? ::He paused.:: A-anyway, they’re very reliable, and upgrade-able. Hopefully I’ll be able to get one myself soon, actually.

 

Tatash: I wouldn't worry about legality. I can reallocate this work from Medical to Military fairly easily and give you free reign. I very much -do- want the firepower option.

 

::The doctor narrowed his eyes. A stronger arm was one thing, installing weapons was something entirely different. The murky legal area wasn’t the problem, blurring the lines between free willed sentient and organic weapon was. He watched as the final arm was lifted into the air, it was a behemoth, something more suited to industrial mining operations than an amputee.::

 

Taelon: And, uh, that one’s a bit more experimental. Since you’re a Marine, I tried to draft a more military model. It’s heavier, but should be stronger than your natural arm, once it’s in. It’s got the room for concealed weapons and upgrades, too...but we wouldn’t be able to cover it with false skin, practically. It’ll also need a much more substantial mount…but, without that, it should have enough shielding of its major components to let you do things you normally couldn’t.

 

Taelon: My projections indicate you might be able to punch through a wall with it. Sir. If you, you know...wanted to. For a reason. 

 

Phrik: ::He fixed his gaxe on Taelon.:: A wall? Shall we try and keep the selection down to things that won’t encourage further hospital visits. I don’t want to be picking shards of tritanium out of his flesh two weeks from now.

 

Taelon: Cantavi. S-sorry, sorry, I like...I like these, building them that is, so…. ::He seemed to deflate and went silent, looking between the two of them uncertainly.:: I’ll, um, follow your lead, Doctor.

 

::Phrik nodded approvingly at the young Lieutenant.::

 

Tatash: I want this one. ::he tapped the large black gauntlet with his right hand:: I'll authorise the transfer of a Type 33 Carbine to your workshop as well, it's our smallest weapon that packs the right amount of punch that could probably be re-assembled as a component. Power might be an issue, unless there's some sort of fast-release ammunition port.

 

Phrik: ::Bluntly:: No. I will not have weapons of any kind inside my operating theatre. I’m a doctor, not an arms dealer. ::Phrik didn’t seem to notice his unintentional wordplay::

 

Tatash: ?

 

Taelon: ?

 

Phrik: I’ll graft you a prosthetic, ::He pointed at the pair of them with his centre hand for emphasis:: provided it’s an arm, not a cannon.

 

::There was of course, nothing preventing them from installing a weapon after the surgery, but that was outside of Phriks’ domain. Installing anything with a concealed weapon made him at least partially responsible for any lives taken with it. Phrik was not prepared to have that on his conscience. What Tatash did with the arm afterwards however was his own business, and while Phrik could strongly dissuade a course of action, he wasn’t going to stop him.::

 

Tatash: ?

 

Taelon: ?

 

::Tatash shook his head::

 

Tatash: I'm a Gorn. Aesthetics is secondary to purpose. We thrive because we look intimidating, and honestly, fake scales look awful... I like the black, it's less likely to give my posistion away as well under light. ::he gestured with his snout towards the more slender, chrome like second option that was glistening under the large overhead lights::. Plus, punching through a wall? How could that not possibly be the most awesome thing ever?

 

Phrik: ::Dryly:: The resulting injuries come to mind…

 

Taelon: ?

 

Tatash: If you manage to fuse me onto it well enough, could it be integrated into a tactical visor?

 

::Phrik glanced over the information, he didn’t see why not, but waited for Taelon’s response anyway.::

 

Taelon: ?

 

 

TBC

 

Ensign Phrik, MD

Medical Officer

Starbase 118 Ops

O239308P10