Lt Jania Nis - Sereth-vahn and other mysteries of the Gamma Quadrant
Jania Nis
((A tent under the Shield – Dig Site Three - Marohu III))
Tekmeth: Can you please lower your weapon?
Semidon: Yes. We have been fully cooperative.
Thasho paced, her anger rising and the two glanced over at her, their expressions uncertain. That weapon didn’t lower at all.
Nis: Thasho? You can lower your weapon; the marines have got this.
Glancing at the doctor, the young archaeology student lowered the phaser.
Greaves: What I want to know is why, after a casualty producing attack in which you all fought for your lives and a long overland and underground movement carrying said casualties, are the two of you hiding in a tent fighting over a hot glowing green artifact. Something inclined you to do so, despite what should be obviously better judgment.
Thasho: ANSWER HIM!
Very slowly, Jania covered her face and sighed at the Klingon.
Tekmeth: We’re just trying to secure the artifact!
The words that came from the man were staccato, as if he struggled to move his mouth in a way they could easily be fashioned. Semidion glanced over at him, his hard shelled face did not convey emotions like those with softer tissue upon theirs. Still, his body hunched over and leaned a little toward the other, as if in concern.
Woolheater: ::adjusted his stance, watching the two men sweat:: Easiest way to get this rifle lowered is to start telling the truth.
Tekmeth: We are!
His voice sounded unexpectedly ragged, although Jania wasn’t deeply familiar with the species, the expression in his eyes seemed suddenly more panicked than it had before.
Tekmeth: I need my…
He trailed off, the words catching in his throat, but his eyes darted to the crate that Woolheater had used a moment before. Jania followed his gaze.
Nis: What is it?
Greaves/Woolheater/Thasho: Response
Semidon: It’s his sereth-vahn.
The word wasn’t translating, so she bit her lip in thought as she tried to make sense of it. Sereth-vahn. Sereth-vahn. She was coming up with nothing. The Paradan inclined his mollusky head in the direction of the crate in which the cylinder currently lay thanks to Woolheater placing it there.
Thasho: Oh, yeah, it was in the report that he needs that stuff.
Greaves/Woolheater: Response
Nis: This sereth-vahn does what, exactly?
Semidon: It’s a medicine. He needs it from time to time. He’s going to have to inject himself.
An annoyingly incomplete answer. She’d assumed it was a medicine and that he needed it “from time to time.” Knowing it was injected was helpful at least. She lifted her tricorder to try to get some answers from the computer, but again, the Paradan noted the crate. The other was deteriorating quickly; now he seemed unable to speak at all, and Jania feared choking. The hollow of his neck sucked in with each attempt to inhale. His eyes darted to the crate, his eyes wide, and his expression desperate.
The Paradan tilted his head to one side, then the other, then glanced at Tekmeth. The man stopped speaking, his throat heaved in, then out, the tendons of his neck thrusting out with every inhalation, and his eyes bugging more and more wildly with every breath, and his body began to tremble.
Jania moved toward the crate until one of the diggers stopped her.
Semidon: From what I understand, the cylinder is tied to his biometrics. He’s the only one who can open it.
Again, the head tilted side to side, a far more emotive gesture than his face would allow. It was not a fact that Jania particularly cared for. If this was some sort of ruse, giving him access to the crate might put them in danger--but there was no other choice.
Greaves/Woolheater: Response
The young Klingon looked like she would panic. It was fair that she already had a lot on her plate; potential mercenary infiltrators was a complication no one needed. But she needed to calm down. Jania would have to get her aside at some point in all this.
Thasho: I don’t know! I don’t feel like I know these guys all that well. We picked up a bunch of diggers just a few days before we left.
She understood the point, but this was Starfleet. No one would drop dead of a preventable cause on her watch.
Nis: If you sincerely believe he’s a threat, the marines can restrain him enough to allow him to open the container, and we can do the injection ourselves.
Suddenly Thasho seemed unsure, biting her tongue. Her eyes darted from Jania to Tekmeth. Jania watched in thought. Thasho was young, and primarily acting on instinct. Jania could guess she wasn’t putting a lot of thought into her leadership style. That didn’t make her a bad person, but it did make her a bad leader for the moment. To be fair, Jania didn't particularly want to make the call either. But she'd been around these two for considerably less time.
Thankfully, Wes made the decision for her.
Greaves/Woolheater/Semidon/Tekmeth: Response
As they prepared, Jania took Tekmeth’s vital signs and shined her light in his eyes. Once again the tricorder failed to identify the disease. This was the second time their lack of medical knowledge in the Gamma Quadrant stood in her way. She hoped the others couldn’t tell how frustrated she was.
Without much frame of reference, all she could do was watch the patient and collect information--something she needed to do, fast, if his difficulty breathing continued to increase.
Nis: How frequent are attacks of this sort?
Greaves/Woolheater/Semidon/Tekmeth: Response
Chief Medical Officer of Physical Health
USS Octavia E. Butler NCC-82850
O240108JN2