((OOC: I guess this is a bit of a backsim from the last sim I just posted, but it isn't too far backwards. :D ))
((Medical Level, DSX))
::Pouge Romey was at a loss. Here, lying on a biobed, was his crew mate. His best friend. His guide. And there, the tricorder in his hand was telling him the one thing he was dreading.::
Romey: Isoboramine levels have dropped below 30%. ::He paused.:: And still falling.
::If it kept going like this, there would be either no host or no symbiont by the end of this week. He'd been monitoring the situation for a better part of a year. For a few months, it looked as if she was in the clear. He had been very wrong. And now he was paying the price.::
Venroe: That explains the fainting.
Romey: I don't know what to do. We have tried *every treatment* in the damn book, we have contacted Trill health services for assistance on the matter - followed their instructions to a T-
::The Betazoid stared down at the Trill, forcing his mouth closed.::
Venroe: We need to find a new host.
::Akyra Venroe was unusually calm, though he didn't really expect anything less from her. It was a situation she'd been facing for months - it was just that neither of them had expected this to happen so quickly. But while she was calm, her doctor was almost a complete wreck. Eden had done this to her. She'd left the first time for medical treatment, was reassigned before she could get it, and now this was the result. The only reason she was still in a somewhat healthy condition was because she had the knowledge and common sense to seek medical advice from her various medical teams after her dream death on Eden - an even of which had stolen not only her life, but the life of her non-exsistant twin children as well.
::That dream life they'd lived seemed like it had happened decades ago.::
Romey: How do you say that so easily?
Venroe: Because if we find a new host, I'm preserved. I'd still be here, in the body of someone else, acting like the filled pages of an unfinished book.
Romey: You'd *still be gone*.
::She sat up on the biobed, her stiff and ridged movements and a lack of colour in her face giving her a very unhealthy appearance. Dark rings under her eyes were her main feature.
::Kira was tired. Working on the Mercury had taken whatever energy she had left - especially the stress of the evacuation of the ship. It was getting to the point where even walking to her bed in Sick Bay was a chore, giving her lungs an unnecessary workout. She might as well have shared the symptoms of a very serious influenza of some kind. She had become very fragile with no strength to her name and had lost her appetite for food almost completely. Watching her suffer like this was unbelievably harsh for the doctor, but it made him more determined to find a way to help her, save her life . . . but nothing was working anymore. Her body was giving up on her, and he couldn't do a damn thing.::
Venroe: I am asking you to do your duty as a Doctor, and as my friend, to make sure that the Venroe symbiont stays out of harms way by finding a new host as this host is rejecting the symbiont.
::There was silence between them for several moments. He'd never heard her speak like that before, referring to herself as "host". It reminded him just how connected the symbiont was with it's hosts body. But he couldn't do it. It felt as if he was signing her death sentence. It didn't matter if she would live on in the mind and emotions of someone else.::
Romey: It's also my job to keep you alive.
Venroe: And you will. By finding a new host.
::Venroe was looking at having two very short lifetimes under its belt. Ethan Venroe, dead at age 43. Akyra Venroe, dead at age 28. The symbiont was only around 25 years old, and already it was looking at it's third host. By rights, if Ethan hadn't have been the life-saver he was, the Venroe symbiont would still have been a part of him today and Pouge would never have met Kira.::
Romey: So that's it, then? We give up on this host, start looking for a new one?
Venroe: We've run out of options, Pouge. It's time to stop putting it off, to face the facts. This time next week, I won't have a heartbeat, but someone else *will*.
::Pouge took a deep breath and breathed it out, doing his best to keep composure.::
Romey: I'll contact your homeworld. Ask if there's waiting hosts nearby.
::Kira nodded weakly.::
Venroe: Thank you.
Tbc . . .