Ensign Jania Nis - The Martini Effect
Jania Nis
((OOC: Hope y’all don’t mind I merged my last shore leave convo with Karen into the beginning of the mission))
((Sickbay, Deck 5, USS Octavia E. Butler))
Jania was happy to take care of Karen. She was entertaining, and had a fun sense to her. But Jania wondered if she was using her sense of humor to cover up some real emotional issues that were developing from her strange situations.
Nis: That sounds rough. What have you been doing to take care of yourself?
Stendhal: Oh, I drink a lot of chamomile tea before bed, but it doesn't really help. There's this thing, the holographic advisor or assistant advisor, whatever it's called. The H.O.C.A., it's helping me, even though it's getting a bit too intrusive...
At this, Jania winced. One of Nis’s former hosts had been a spacefaring marine centuries ago, and they had memories of when technology like this was much worse, more dangerous. The idea of a hologram getting intrusive triggered some bad memories.
Nis: Intrusive? How so?
Stendhal: It's nothing much, but I found it in my bed the other night. It's just a hologram, after all, but it's pretty realistic.
Nis: Oh, uh . . . that is . . . oO Not the kind of danger we were expecting. Oo
Stendhal: What do you advise me to do about it?
It was not the kind of question for a medical doctor--it was the kind of question for a psychiatrist, and not a holographic one.
Nis: Well, we’d recommend you chat with someone who’s not a hologram. We can always make some time to--
Then Jania was flung forward with a scream. She landed hard on the ground, although in some of her bouldering training, she’d also learned how to fall without damaging herself too much. If it weren’t for that training, she may have broken her arm. Even still, a gash on her elbow weeped blood.
Groaning, she pulled herself to her feet to check on her patient. Karen was still on the biobed.
Nis: Sorry, we don’t know what . . . :: Clutching her stomach :: Oh, wow . . .
Jania let out a burp and felt bile. She was nauseated worse than she’d been since after the time she’d eaten that spicy Klingon root. She knew what it was, though--it was space sickness. She hadn’t felt it in her life, but Ajil, one of Nis’s hosts, had gotten it consistently.
Stendhal: Response
Soon the first of the patients came in, bloodied and disoriented. Dr. Toz followed, looking as pale and queasy as Jania felt. It was Af Kelt, Dr. Toz explained. This was hard to believe, since that was some sort of time sickness. It wasn’t until the first bridge crew member appeared that Jania heard the number tossed around: 800 years in the future. 800 years.
Her eyes widened and she rubbed her forehead. Hearing this, her nausea got worse. She wanted to vomit. The idea was so overwhelming she forgot to even look at the bleeding wound on her elbow.
Dr. Toz prepped a small anabolic protoplaser, keying a light dose of choline for Ensign Emond. The poor ensign was curled in a ball and whimpering. Jania wanted to do the same.
Toz: Dr. Nis, do we have enough anticholinergic antiemetics? It should act like the old dramamine did. I think they call it choline now. Nurse Miash might be able to assist.
Nis: We . . . oO Focus, Jania. Focus. Oo
Dr. Toz seemed to pick up on Jania’s panic, because she asked the kind of specific question that Jania needed to get her head straightened out.
Toz: How many with a minor lack of balance?
Nis: Good question. We’ll start triaging to be sure. But why are they experiencing this effect? Is it permanent?
Toz: I’d say it’s like taking in too much alcohol. Drunk. If so, time will resolve it.
Those first-timers from earth into space were afflicted. But that was before gravity was artificially introduced. The course at the academy was short as space-sickness was so rare.
Stendhal: response
Toz: Of course, counselor. Whatever you feel is right. Let me know if you need anything.
Nis hurried from patient to patient, trying to get an idea of how many people were affected. Most everyone was experiencing some sort of nausea, but a few were just hurt. Many of the younger ensigns were panicking, too. When there was more time, Jania was quite capable at addressing panic, but there were too many people experiencing it at once--and as for time, they’d lost 800 years…
800 years. That was more than the entire life of her symbiont.
One of the patients, a young security ensign, had milky eyes. Unlike the others, who seemed nauseated but were relatively responsive, he only mumbled at Jania’s questions. Worse, his neurological patterns were all over the charts. To use Dr. Toz’s alcohol comparison, this poor ensign seemed to have chugged about thirty martinis. That situation would require a more delicate touch than most of the other ensigns.
Nis: Doctor Toz, most of the injuries here are minor. The biggest problem is panic. ::speaking loudly enough for the ensigns in the biobeds to hear :: But time travel isn’t all that rare--the USS Oumuamua had an incident, and some of the more experienced crew members can probably tell us about that. Dr. Stendhal, any advice you can give us about handling difficult situations?
Stendhal: response
Toz: I’ll check with Commander Promontory. See if there’s any progress. ::pause:: It would be interesting to see what the future is like. I’ve wondered about that on occasion. 800 years. I wonder what happened to the OEB and her crew? What medical advancements have been accomplished?
Nis: We’re not sure we want to know what happened to us …
Stendhal/Toz: response
Jania looked down and finally remembered she was bleeding. She sighed and healed herself with a dermal regenerator. After she was healed, she approached Dr. Toz.
Nis: :: whispering :: We don’t think most of these people are in that big of a danger, but that young ensign over there has temporal narcosis. It could prove to be rather serious. We think we should isolate him so the others don’t panic more.
Toz/Stendhal: Response
Nis: The other thing is, people don’t always realize they’ve got temporal narcosis. There could be crew members at their duty stations about to make some very bad decisions.
As if the universe took her comment as a challenge, an alarm sounded from somewhere far off.
Toz/Stendhal: Response
Tags/TBC
Ensign Jania Nis
Medical Officer
USS Octavia E. Butler NCC-82850
O240108JN2