Ensign Lyra Voss: Sweet Dreams
Sarah Terry
((Main Sickbay Meeting Room - Starbase 118))
Stop. Unclench your jaw. Breathe. As far as mantras went, it wasn’t her most poetic, but this was not the time for poetry. Lyra put her PADD down on a nearby table because she was holding it so tightly, she was half-afraid she’d crack the screen. Four above, this pressure behind her eyes was killing her! But Dr. Wethern had asked her a question. She could at least focus on that.
Voss: Looks like the Ameoneians docked about thirty minutes ago and actually entered the station quite recently. I know we don’t have much information yet, and it might be a bad look, but should we tell the diplomatic team they may want to get everyone into a quarantine zone?
After all, things appeared to be spiraling at a rapid pace. Drex couldn’t stop thinking about clients and commissions and his brother, and Dr. Foster was trying to hold it together with context clues but definitely thought he was an ensign, and why the hell couldn’t she keep herself out of their thoughts??
Wethern: Nothing showing up on preliminary scans. Until we get to the bottom of this no one leaves sickbay. Let's call the welcome wagon and see what is going on no need to panic so far.
Oh yeah, no need to panic. It wasn’t like an unknown number of crew members were losing their memories in the middle of a high-stakes diplomatic mission! Hah! Of course! What was there to panic about? She almost started laughing. Oh and Dr. Foster just drank some more coffee. Lovely. Because they would all surely benefit from him being more caffeinated.
Drex: I’ll let you handle the procedures. ::He returned his attention to the PADD, focusing on the terrain and core data, leaving Starfleet matters firmly to the others.::
Wethen: Voss. We need to prepare in case these two are just first and it affects us both. Document everything and lockdown this sector of sickbay.
Dr. Wethern’s voice pulled her out of her slightly hysterical thoughts. Documenting. Yes, that made sense. If only the screen wasn’t swimming in front of her eyes. She just needed to concentrate. Lockdown. That was the most important bit - if they were lucky, this was an isolated incident and they needed to keep it that way.
Voss: Roger that, sir. Initiating lockdown.
She keyed in the appropriate command and a soft red light appeared near the top of all the sickbay walls within view. Then she turned to the adjacent screen and started taking notes on what they currently knew:
Stardate 240302.08. Starbase 118 Sickbay. Science and med teams gathering to discuss the arrival of the Ameoneians on the station. Crew present: Lt. Corey Wethern, Lt. Commander Shar’Wyn Foster, Lt. Drex, Ensign Lyra Voss (that’s you). Were discussing origins and treatment of an Ameoneian flu when crew began –
She was immediately distracted by Dr. Foster’s excitement at remembering he was holding a PADD and that she had a name beyond Betazoid Ensign Science Lady.
Wethern: Also find them an assignment to keep them busy.
With that, Dr. Wethern took a step to the side and tried to get in touch with the team meeting with the Ameoneians, which left her facing the two men and their shockingly nonchalant expressions.
Drex: I have enough to do, don’t worry for me. ::He pointed to his PADD::
Dr. Foster held his up as well.
Foster: Give me a moment as I refresh my addled brain on the mission at hand and then I’ll give you my expert medical opinion on the matter.
By all the Four vecking deities, a little refresh wasn’t going to do anything! Her head was absolutely pounding with all this nonsense!
Voss: ::exasperately:: Okay, gentlemen, that’s all well and good, but I’m pretty sure we just became the mission at hand. Lieutenant Drex, you… ::stopping at the look on his face:: yeah, you don’t know why I’m calling you Lieutenant, great. Commander Foster, you at least remember being in Starfleet, yes?
Foster: I do remember Starfleet protocols.
Voss: ::trying not to wince:: Wonderful.
Foster: I have a magic PADD that tells me many useful things. We’re working on keeping the Ameoneians safe and preventing any infectious exposure for the civilian population. Also apparently there is a parade.
Voss: Yes, but now we have the pressing issue of several officers losing their memories. With no apparent cause, because we were all standing in this room when it happened. And if that spreads beyond this room, it’s going to be much worse than a bunch of civilians getting a bad cold.
Dr. Wethern came back to the group with a serious expression on his face.
Wethern: Right where are we up to?
Drex: You were discussing accommodations for the diplomatic delegation. :: Raising his head from the PADD:: Can you tell me how many people you expect? I’ve reviewed some of their physiological data, and I can ensure the sensors and environmental controllers can adjusted appropriately.
Foster: Reports say about a dozen Ameoneians.
Voss: ::in pain and on her last nerve:: Stop calling it magic! ::wait… did he say that out loud?:: Arghh… the Ameoneians are not the problem right now. The memory loss is. And whether or not the memory loss could get to the Ameoneians, sure, but can we please just focus? You both need brain scans!
Drex: No. That won’t be necessary. ::He rose from his chair, gathering his PADD.:: I think we should reconvene when the geological information is ready.
Lyra could have screamed. Four for-vecking-fend, what was happening here?? Was the room getting warmer? Suddenly, her collar felt like it was choking her and her heart started to race.
Foster: Look… Corey ::he thrust a finger at Corey CMO Guy:: Told us to plant our butts because our brains are scrambled and sickbay is on lockdown. What part of lockdown don’t you understand.
Lyra had to sit back down by one of the monitors. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.
Wethern: ?
Thankfully, Drex stopped before he reached the door. He saw his reflection and was thoroughly perplexed by it.
Drex: ::frowning:: I’ll need my clothes back.
Foster: You are, in fact, wearing clothes.
Lyra snorted from her chair. That Andorian had a penchant for stating the obvious. That… Andorian… kathra… She immediately lurched back to her notes.
Memory loss starting - pressure and pain behind the eyes, flushed, disoriented, telepathy difficult to control… She knew what was coming and tried to document what she was feeling as quickly as she could.
Wethern: ?
Drex: I don’t know, and frankly, it doesn’t matter. Whatever the reason, I’m leaving and I want my clothes back.
Foster: Where will you go?
Lyra was only vaguely aware of the voices behind her as her fingers moved across the screen as fast as she could move them.
Amount of time lost seems variable. Cause unknown. Waiting on brain scans. How localized? Diplomatic team was warned to stay away from sickbay… Finally, the pain was too much, and she bent over double in her seat.
((OOC: Lyra’s not seeing this bit, but leaving it in for continuity’s sake!))
Wethern/Drex: ?
Foster: Maybe humor him, let him change clothes and see what is outside?
Wethern/Drex: ?
A young Bolian orderly with a pleasant face and a worried expression opened the door Drex was blocking.
Polni: Oh! ::She exclaimed, taking a step back away from the Denobulan:: I’m sorry, Sir…
Wethern/Drex: ?
Polni: No, I just have the brain scans from Lieutenant Voxa, the ones that Doctor Wethern requested. ::She offered out a medical dataPADD:: Excuse me! I’m sorry!
Wethern/Drex: ?
Lyra started to sit back up from her curled position on the stool. Before she straightened out though, she found herself suddenly overwhelmed by a cacophony of unguarded thoughts.
–looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong?
–sample forty-three would be the best bet for replicating our previous –
–again?! After I told her how much I hate roses? She never –
–spread across the Trinity Sector, there was no telling how dangerous they –
Nausea gripped her and she clamped her hands over her ears as if that would help. Four above, all these humans! All these non-telepaths blaring their thoughts out for the whole damn world to hear! This was why she’d left the Academy! This was why she’d gone back home! So why the hell was she…
She looked up at the rest of the people in the room with a sick, sinking feeling. Starfleet personnel. No. How could she be back here? She’d gone to sleep in her room, in her home, on her own damn planet, and this… it had to be a dream. Didn’t it?
A human, an Andorian, a Denobulan, and a Bolian. None of them were looking at her. Good. She got up and looked for a door on the other side of the room, away from all of them. But the door she walked up to wouldn’t open. She had half a mind to try to pry it open, but then she noticed the rather ominous-looking red light at the top of each wall. No, no, no… She’d taken Starfleet Operations in her very first trimester - red lights were bad. Steady red lights and a door that wouldn’t open… that was a lockdown. Panic and confusion coursed through her. None of this should be happening! She shouldn’t be here! She couldn’t… her breathing became frantic and tears stung the corners of her eyes. Sparks of adrenaline prickled over her skin. She had to shake out her hands. No. She was not doing this.
Without any other option, she looked for the farthest corner of the room, sat down, shoved herself into it, pulled her knees up to her chest, and buried her head in her arms.
Voss: ::whispering to herself:: Just wake up, just wake up, just wake up…
Wethern/Drex/Foster: ?
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