Lt Jania Nis - The Dusk Bringer
Jania Nis
((Under the Shield – Dig Site Three - Mnemosyne Dome - Marohu III))
(OOC: Wrote this one pretty fast, sorry if it's got any mistakes!)
In the Academy, Jania had often been complimented for her bedside behavior. Calm and professional. It got to the point where she sometimes forgot that this was a skill, not a given.
In practice, Jania could think of a dozen times she’d failed. Sending Morro back to duty when he wasn’t ready. Letting the Zet die on Koreli-IV. These events were burned into her brain. Although she knew every Starfleet officer experienced imposter syndrome from time to time, she also thought she had skyrocketed into the CMO position in less than a year, and it was only accidents of fate that had put her there.
As she watched Tekmeth struggle to regain his breath after his injection, she was reminded of her youth, her inexperience.
Nis: We’d like to keep an eye on him, get a better idea of the effects of this illness.
It felt useless to say, but she had to say something.
Greaves: I’m not sur-
Before he could finish, though, they were confronted with another problem. Wasn’t that classic. She wasn’t even sure if she’d solved the first. Metal and stone clanged together, and a Dosi man appeared. One of the mercenaries, perhaps. She yelped and pointed him out, as if the others hadn’t noticed. But the Dosi was injured.
Nis: Dr. Antonson, check on him. Dr. Ravi, cover his patients for the moment.
Greaves: Response
It was a fair order. He could attack the doctor or worse, injured or not. Still, she’d hoped to spring into action instead of waiting like they had for Tekmeth. She gritted her teeth and called off Dr. Antonson.
But as she watched, he collapsed onto the ground, his hand covered in blood.
Woolheater: ::into his earpiece mic:: =/\=Cpl. Jones, take a lance and check that contact. Keep it tight.=/\=
Cpl Jones: Aye, sir.
Jania sighed.
Nis: We’re going to check him too. That’s a bad injury, enemy or not.
Greaves: Response
She considered it an affirmation.
Woolheater (to Greaves): Sector covered, sir. Contact is being checked.
Greaves: Response
Jania rushed to the side of the Dosi mercenary. He had lost a lot of blood already
Cpl. Jones: =/\= Contact secure. One male, humanoid. Wounded, phaser burn across the ribs. Still breathing, but he’s painted up in white and red war paint. Doesn’t look like one of the diggers.=/\=
She glanced at Jones. Yes, there was a phaser burn across his chest. There was also a weeping laceration on his leg that was more important at the moment. He’d bleed out before he’d die of the phaser burns.
But before she could add it to the report, a blue light pulsed from the crate and the room rumbled. Jania looked up around her and found herself disoriented. The wall was different suddenly. At first she thought it was some sort of shifting image, but the wall itself was moving, or the floor. It was hard to be sure. The lights flickered, first the sickly greenish neon, then bursting into a rainbow of colors, or more than a rainbow really. Thousands, even colors she’d never seen before.
The carvings on the wall seemed to dance beneath the lighting. Deesru Nis had seen this effect in caves. The lights produced a sort of animation, or the appearance of animation. The ancient people who had lived here were certainly high-tech enough to make animations using computer screens or holograms; the intentional use of light and shadow seemed like an artistic decision.
The events on the relief seemed quotidian but melancholy. Mothers and children, lovers in an embrace, children and animals dancing, soldiers marching. At the end, though, they all turned to stare at the people who had entered their ancient domain.
Deesru would have been hysterical with joy. Jania barely noticed; the weeping wound on the man’s leg was more important.
In the crate, that artifact continued to glow, its light intensifying, and as it did so, something emerged. Rock rumbled more loudly, and in the middle of the room, a pedestal rose, upon which sat an orb. It wasn’t a large thing, for it was small enough for Semidon or Tekmeth to take in their hands, even if a little too big to wrap them completely around it, but it shone brightly, pulsing with a pure light.
Semidon: By Hthmal!
Tekmeth: What the…
Greaves/Woolheater: Response
Nis: Um … what’s going on?
Semidon: We don’t have any idea!
If they were archaeologists, they were not very good ones - or perhaps they were simply the diggers that the Klingon had claimed. Either way, Jania had meant the question for Thasho. But Thasho was too busy staring in awe.
Greaves/Woolheater: Response
Jania tried to focus on her patient instead of the
Semidon: I’m not sure we should touch it, much less move it.
Greaves/Woolheater: Response
Nis: Thasho? Thasho? You’re the lead archaeologist--what’s going on?
Thasho: I ... don't know, but it's beautiful.
Greaves/Semidon/Tekmeth/Woolheater: Response
She glanced around, then leaned in to the mercenary and whispered in his ear.
Nis: -You- don’t happen to know what’s going on, do you?
The mercenary looked up at her through glassy eyes, exhausted from blood loss.
Mercenary: It’s … what we’ve read about. This is the convergence event. The machines in the city are being reactivated--all of them, even the Dusk Bringer…
Greaves/Thasho/Semidon/Tekmeth/Woolheater: Response
Lieutenant Jania Nis
Chief Medical Officer of Physical Health
USS Octavia E. Butler NCC-82850
O240108JN2