Lt. Taelon - It's Simple, Really
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Alison Hardwick
Nov 3, 2025, 9:06:26 PM11/3/25
to USS Gorkon – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Science Lab 6, Deck 7, USS Gorkon))
Taelon: Ah - sorry, um, it’s - ::He switched to a language untranslated.:: Ansettali'té, pali tandu briavé, sovfla monusi ohna kanéro. Which means, um - ‘From the heart, compassion; from the mouth, consent; and from the body, comfort.’
Finch: Absolutely beautiful. El-Aurian, is it?
Taelon: Eccian - it’s an El-Aurian language. ::He corrected her without offense - so little was known about the now-Assimilated planet and its myriad of cultures that the lack of knowledge was routine.:: My…native one? For lack of a better term…
He spoke it fluently, but did it count as native if he was born after its destruction? That was a spiral of depressive thoughts he quickly stepped away from.
Finch: I could listen to it for all eternity.
She had such a warm, genuine smile. Taelon felt like he stared at her for it, unsure how to respond even though it made his heart flutter. She reminded him of Sal; the Betazoid had that same radiating aura of comfort and safety.
She turned her attention to the tools he’d brought, and he shook his head as if to clear it.
Taelon: Well, may I have a look at your eyes…?
Finch: By all means, Mister Taelon, take a look. But talk me through your equipment here first, won’t you? It all looks very intriguing.
A reasonable request. He walked to stand next to her at the counter, hip leaned against it, and picked up the first. It was slim, elegant, and almost resembled a pen with a sharp tip. Aside from the wrapped, abstract filigree of gold, its body was the same smooth white marble material ARIA was partially built from.
Taelon: This is, um, a fulnir-quién - I’d translate it as a ‘seeing-needle’? It sends signals through the material it’s sent against to map it in great detail, at the cellular level. And from the patient’s point of view, it’s just…
He was holding it in his offhand, and so instead of doing what he’d usually do - pressing the microscopic needle to his left palm - he handed it to Doz.
Taelon: Press it to your palm, without pressure. Just enough to hold it steady.
Finch: Response
Taelon: Normally, one could use - well, maybe not normally…um, but, usually, a person’s basic cybernetic framework would also be assisting in mapping the surgical area. But since you don’t have any such thing…
Finch: Response
Taelon: Um, ideally, I’d use this - ::He switched tools, picking up a very similar looking slim pen; but this one hand a chamber in the body filled with a tiny amount of liquid.:: It holds a fálmen, a ‘watcher’, that records nerve inputs over time. After a short amount of time, say, a month at least, we extract the watcher, and use its data to help pre-train an implant.
He was dangerously on the edge of yammering, going into long, spiraling descriptions.
Finch: Response
Lieutenant Taelon
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
Taelon: Ah - sorry, um, it’s - ::He switched to a language untranslated.:: Ansettali'té, pali tandu briavé, sovfla monusi ohna kanéro. Which means, um - ‘From the heart, compassion; from the mouth, consent; and from the body, comfort.’
Finch: Absolutely beautiful. El-Aurian, is it?
Taelon: Eccian - it’s an El-Aurian language. ::He corrected her without offense - so little was known about the now-Assimilated planet and its myriad of cultures that the lack of knowledge was routine.:: My…native one? For lack of a better term…
He spoke it fluently, but did it count as native if he was born after its destruction? That was a spiral of depressive thoughts he quickly stepped away from.
Finch: I could listen to it for all eternity.
She had such a warm, genuine smile. Taelon felt like he stared at her for it, unsure how to respond even though it made his heart flutter. She reminded him of Sal; the Betazoid had that same radiating aura of comfort and safety.
She turned her attention to the tools he’d brought, and he shook his head as if to clear it.
Taelon: Well, may I have a look at your eyes…?
Finch: By all means, Mister Taelon, take a look. But talk me through your equipment here first, won’t you? It all looks very intriguing.
A reasonable request. He walked to stand next to her at the counter, hip leaned against it, and picked up the first. It was slim, elegant, and almost resembled a pen with a sharp tip. Aside from the wrapped, abstract filigree of gold, its body was the same smooth white marble material ARIA was partially built from.
Taelon: This is, um, a fulnir-quién - I’d translate it as a ‘seeing-needle’? It sends signals through the material it’s sent against to map it in great detail, at the cellular level. And from the patient’s point of view, it’s just…
He was holding it in his offhand, and so instead of doing what he’d usually do - pressing the microscopic needle to his left palm - he handed it to Doz.
Taelon: Press it to your palm, without pressure. Just enough to hold it steady.
Finch: Response
Taelon: Normally, one could use - well, maybe not normally…um, but, usually, a person’s basic cybernetic framework would also be assisting in mapping the surgical area. But since you don’t have any such thing…
Finch: Response
Taelon: Um, ideally, I’d use this - ::He switched tools, picking up a very similar looking slim pen; but this one hand a chamber in the body filled with a tiny amount of liquid.:: It holds a fálmen, a ‘watcher’, that records nerve inputs over time. After a short amount of time, say, a month at least, we extract the watcher, and use its data to help pre-train an implant.
He was dangerously on the edge of yammering, going into long, spiraling descriptions.
Finch: Response
Lieutenant Taelon
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
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