Ensign Roy Bancroft - We Hope This Message Finds You Before We Do
Carter Schimpff
STARFLEET MEDICAL COMMAND
Division of Advanced Medical Technologies
San Francisco HQ, Earth
Stardate 240207.30
TO:
Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
Subject: Prototype Review — W.H.I.M.P.E.R. and P.U.F.F.S.
Dear Ensign Bancroft,
Thank you for your recent submissions to the Starfleet Experimental Field Medical Technologies program, which included the following prototype devices:
W.H.I.M.P.E.R. (Wide-spectrum Harm Indicator for Multispecies Pain Evaluation and Reporting)
P.U.F.F.S. (Portable Unified Field for Filtration and Sterilization)
Let us begin by saying that your enthusiasm for medical device innovation is... impossible to ignore. Primarily because you will not stop contacting us.
While we appreciate your accompanying note, “Trust me, this time it won’t scream,” we regret to inform you: it did. Loudly. And in three languages. One of which, according to our records, has not been spoken in this galaxy since the late 15th century.
1. W.H.I.M.P.E.R.
Let’s start with the positive: it did detect pain.
Now that that’s out of the way, here are our primary concerns:
The subjective nature of your proposed pain scale, which escalates from “Tingly Disappointment” to “Full Existential Collapse.” Level 6, labeled “I Would Like To Speak With A Nurse Who Reminds Me Of My Mother” was hauntingly specific but not medically actionable.
Your decision to calibrate the device using a Betazoid “in a period of acute romantic distress” was bold. It was also, to use a clinical term, deeply inadvisable.
The inclusion of Bolian interpretive dance recordings labeled “Cross-Species Emotional Benchmarking” was deeply confusing and, frankly, traumatic. Several committee members are still trying to unsee this.
Finally, while we admire your desire to “quantify agony with empathy,” we are troubled by the device’s tendency to misclassify Vulcan poetry readings as “extreme childbirth.”
2. P.U.F.F.S.
At first glance, a deployable sterilization bubble seemed like a promising contribution to field hygiene. That illusion did not survive contact with the prototype.
The automated decontamination protocol misidentifies Saurian egg salad as a Class-2 Biohazard and self-initiates a process identified as “Scorch Mode,” which proved to be alarmingly accurate.
The voice interface refers to medics as “meatbags,” offers unsolicited skin care advice, and, during one test, screamed “PREPARE FOR PURITY” before neutralizing a perfectly harmless potted plant.
The voice interface self-identifies as “SanitoX” and insists on announcing: “I purify, therefore I am.” Every committee member and several innocent bystanders found this deeply troubling.
Final Determination
We are, frankly, afraid. But intrigued. But also afraid.
We cannot in good conscience authorize fleet-wide deployment. However, we would very much like to avoid discouraging your progress. We are... concerned about what you might otherwise do with your free time.
We strongly encourage you to enlist one or more crewmates willing (or legally obligated) to assist you, in the hopes that collaboration may reduce both creative entropy and the recurring need to preemptively alert Security.
Future submissions must include:
Detailed schematics
A clearly labeled, externally accessible kill switch
A pre-written apology, preferably signed in advance by your Commanding Officer
Cautiously yours,
Telva Maran, M.D., Ph.D.
Chair – Experimental Protocols Board
Starfleet Medical
(OOC: This is meant as an introduction to a sim I am planning to send out next week for anyone who is interested in joining me in some medical device creation shenanigans. Chris, Tobi, and Thomas have already expressed interest. Anyone else is welcome to join as well!)
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Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1