Ensign Harrison Kiani: Who you gonna call? (Part II)
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Harrison Kiani
Jul 9, 2023, 9:34:33 AM7/9/23
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((Inside Control Node – Mirrorverse))
The pair materialised into a dimly lit maintenance hub within the Control node. An exact lock on the location of the away team hadn't been possible. There was some heavy interference with transporter functions at the lower levels of the node. They would need to retrace their steps before figuring out a safe spot to beam out from. Harry switched on the built-in light of his tricorder and shone it onto the ground. Beside him, he heard some rustling as Ensign Moore did the same. It was a low-intensity light, but it helped keep them mindful of the metal points jutting out, the open wiring, and the pipes glowing red with heat.
Kiani: ::pointing the light beam at a grate covering a bunch of wiring and carefully skirting past it:: This place is a death trap.
Moore: Response.
Kiani: ::wiping the sweat from his brow:: I can't imagine what It'd be like working maintenance here.
Moore: Response.
Harry followed Moore's tricorder light to a ladder that went through a service duct leading deeper into the node. The frown that immediately animated the Ensign's face gave way to a sigh of resignation.
Kiani: Well, you found it. So, you're going first. ::he said, crossing his arms::
Kiani: ::pointing the light beam at a grate covering a bunch of wiring and carefully skirting past it:: This place is a death trap.
Moore: Response.
Kiani: ::wiping the sweat from his brow:: I can't imagine what It'd be like working maintenance here.
Moore: Response.
Harry followed Moore's tricorder light to a ladder that went through a service duct leading deeper into the node. The frown that immediately animated the Ensign's face gave way to a sigh of resignation.
Kiani: Well, you found it. So, you're going first. ::he said, crossing his arms::
Moore: Response?
((A few minutes later...))
The trek down the duct was slow & constricting but largely uneventful. It opened into a cavernous hall composed of uneven slabs of grey stone. They were plopped onto a platform with a catwalk leading to an island opposite, with a sole structure on it. On either side of the catwalk was a perilous drop to the death. And they could make out the silhouettes of a group of three or four huddled about near the structure.
Moore pushed forward and called out to the group.
Moore: Response
Reade/M-Will: Response
Moore: Response
While his fellow Ensign made first contact, Harry seemed more concerned with the back wall, into which the platform had been wedged, acting as a natural support structure. He ran his fingers across the rough stone, wet with moisture condensation.
Moore: Response
Kiani: Give me one second. ::he hit the side of the tricorder a couple times, trying to clear the jumbled sensor readings, before getting a cohesive response:: Like I thought, this place is lined with Magnesite, it's why the transporter wasn't able to get a reliable lock, and why our sensors seem to be dealing with constant interference. ::a look of concern passed him:: Alright, let's see the injured officer.
As they made a careful crossing across the catwalk, the faces of their fellow officers became clearer. Harry recognized the chief science officer who'd overseen him man science station #2 on the Indy's Bridge. While the other he remembered from the Mess Hall briefing. The woman, though, he couldn't place, despite looking terribly familiar for some reason.
Reade: Response
Harry looked at the smoking prosthetic, then at Lt. Kivik, leaning against the control node wall, with nir eyes shut. Harry had first taken an interest in Lt. Kivik's work when convinced by a friend to attend an academic conference at the Delebi campus. The conference was about gender classification and bioethics, and one of nir papers had become a subject of some debate that day. When he'd heard that ne was posted as the chief science officer aboard Amity Outpost, he'd also brush up on nir 'back catalogue' of J'naii neuropsychology. Figuring It'd make for an excellent first impression. Suffice it to say, "Hopper'' had not been what he'd expected; it was a cute nickname, to be sure. But should a serious scientist really let their colleagues be so familiar in addressing them?
Then there was the matter of nem looking nothing like a J'naii at all. He had never considered looking up a picture or reading their service history, but he'd always expected to meet a full-blooded J'naii. This Hopper character seemed almost entirely Terran.
None of that mattered now, though. Lt. Kivik was his patient, and he would treat ne just as he would anyone else who needed help.
Kiani: ::crouching beside nem and removing the Medkit from his shoulders:: Hey, it's alright, you're in good hands now. ::he snapped his fingers next to their ear to make sure they weren't unconscious and put two fingers on their neck to look for a pulse::
Hopper: Response
Reade/M-Wil: Response?
Kiani: ::he began examining their prosthetic, with open circuitry spraying sparks of electricity from out the cavity:: You've been very brave, the phaser's burnt through just above the shin. Narrowly missing the microprocessor controller. ::he shook his tricorder, beat it on his thigh, and even contemplated blowing on it. But to no avail:: I think this can be fixed through the standard surgical approach without rerouting the nervous system control impulses. But I can't attempt a field surgery like that in these conditions, especially without access to your medical records.
Hopper: Response
Kiani: We'll get you out of here, don't worry. ::Harry gave nem a sympathetic smile before removing the hypospray from a compartment of the Medkit, along with a vial of Bicaridine:: It helps to just talk through it, Lieutenant. ::he said, noticing her cringe in pain:: You know, back when I was working as a TA, I had to grade a student's term paper that had plagiarized almost word for word, a section of that article you wrote for the Starfleet Journal of Arts an-::having inserted the vial into the hypospray, he injected ne with a 25 cc dose, interrupting his own sentence::
Hopper: Response
The colour seemed to leave Harry's face at the revelation. Almost on cue, the tricorder display lit up with parts of the patient's medical record. The name ROBIN HOPPER highlighted in bold.
Kiani: ::noting that Hopper's medical record also mentioned her being half-Centaurian:: Ekko-e-paravotan hamartánein.
A direct translation of that would probably be, "I was mistaken, I grant you my air.". The last phrase being better understood as a formal apology, descending from 'The Plague Years', a time of unrest and biological warfare characterized by the commodification of even the most basic necessities, including breathable air.
Hopper: Response
Kiani: Y-yes, you're right; we need to leave. ::looking towards Moore:: Please, help me lift the Lieutenant.
Moore: Response
Hopper: Response
Kiani: Try not to put any pressure on that left leg. Bicaridine's a potent analgesic, but it isn't going to stop the pain. It just makes it more bearable.
Hopper: Response?
Reade/M-Will: Response
Kiani: We won't be able to beam out from here. They've got Magnesite lining the whole chamber. We'll have to reach the upper deck and try once we're there.
Reade/M-Will/Moore/Hopper/Carter/Ukinix: Response
Moore pushed forward and called out to the group.
Moore: Response
Reade/M-Will: Response
Moore: Response
While his fellow Ensign made first contact, Harry seemed more concerned with the back wall, into which the platform had been wedged, acting as a natural support structure. He ran his fingers across the rough stone, wet with moisture condensation.
Moore: Response
Kiani: Give me one second. ::he hit the side of the tricorder a couple times, trying to clear the jumbled sensor readings, before getting a cohesive response:: Like I thought, this place is lined with Magnesite, it's why the transporter wasn't able to get a reliable lock, and why our sensors seem to be dealing with constant interference. ::a look of concern passed him:: Alright, let's see the injured officer.
As they made a careful crossing across the catwalk, the faces of their fellow officers became clearer. Harry recognized the chief science officer who'd overseen him man science station #2 on the Indy's Bridge. While the other he remembered from the Mess Hall briefing. The woman, though, he couldn't place, despite looking terribly familiar for some reason.
Reade: Response
Harry looked at the smoking prosthetic, then at Lt. Kivik, leaning against the control node wall, with nir eyes shut. Harry had first taken an interest in Lt. Kivik's work when convinced by a friend to attend an academic conference at the Delebi campus. The conference was about gender classification and bioethics, and one of nir papers had become a subject of some debate that day. When he'd heard that ne was posted as the chief science officer aboard Amity Outpost, he'd also brush up on nir 'back catalogue' of J'naii neuropsychology. Figuring It'd make for an excellent first impression. Suffice it to say, "Hopper'' had not been what he'd expected; it was a cute nickname, to be sure. But should a serious scientist really let their colleagues be so familiar in addressing them?
Then there was the matter of nem looking nothing like a J'naii at all. He had never considered looking up a picture or reading their service history, but he'd always expected to meet a full-blooded J'naii. This Hopper character seemed almost entirely Terran.
None of that mattered now, though. Lt. Kivik was his patient, and he would treat ne just as he would anyone else who needed help.
Kiani: ::crouching beside nem and removing the Medkit from his shoulders:: Hey, it's alright, you're in good hands now. ::he snapped his fingers next to their ear to make sure they weren't unconscious and put two fingers on their neck to look for a pulse::
Hopper: Response
Reade/M-Wil: Response?
Kiani: ::he began examining their prosthetic, with open circuitry spraying sparks of electricity from out the cavity:: You've been very brave, the phaser's burnt through just above the shin. Narrowly missing the microprocessor controller. ::he shook his tricorder, beat it on his thigh, and even contemplated blowing on it. But to no avail:: I think this can be fixed through the standard surgical approach without rerouting the nervous system control impulses. But I can't attempt a field surgery like that in these conditions, especially without access to your medical records.
Hopper: Response
Kiani: We'll get you out of here, don't worry. ::Harry gave nem a sympathetic smile before removing the hypospray from a compartment of the Medkit, along with a vial of Bicaridine:: It helps to just talk through it, Lieutenant. ::he said, noticing her cringe in pain:: You know, back when I was working as a TA, I had to grade a student's term paper that had plagiarized almost word for word, a section of that article you wrote for the Starfleet Journal of Arts an-::having inserted the vial into the hypospray, he injected ne with a 25 cc dose, interrupting his own sentence::
Hopper: Response
The colour seemed to leave Harry's face at the revelation. Almost on cue, the tricorder display lit up with parts of the patient's medical record. The name ROBIN HOPPER highlighted in bold.
Kiani: ::noting that Hopper's medical record also mentioned her being half-Centaurian:: Ekko-e-paravotan hamartánein.
A direct translation of that would probably be, "I was mistaken, I grant you my air.". The last phrase being better understood as a formal apology, descending from 'The Plague Years', a time of unrest and biological warfare characterized by the commodification of even the most basic necessities, including breathable air.
Hopper: Response
Kiani: Y-yes, you're right; we need to leave. ::looking towards Moore:: Please, help me lift the Lieutenant.
Moore: Response
Hopper: Response
Kiani: Try not to put any pressure on that left leg. Bicaridine's a potent analgesic, but it isn't going to stop the pain. It just makes it more bearable.
Hopper: Response?
Reade/M-Will: Response
Kiani: We won't be able to beam out from here. They've got Magnesite lining the whole chamber. We'll have to reach the upper deck and try once we're there.
Reade/M-Will/Moore/Hopper/Carter/Ukinix: Response
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