Lt. JG T’Fearne - Unacceptable Parameters
Teayl Thorn
((Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Ronin, orbiting Endicronimas V))
T’Fearne: I disagree, it’s not overworking; I’m merely optimising productivity. ::deflecting:: Besides, you think I am a workaholic? Forgive me, Doctor, but aren’t you supposed to be on Risa or something?
His eyes sparked with amusement again as he smirked, raising a hand in concession.
Beck: Okay, you've got a point, but I didn't choose to stay and get quarantined. I admit, I delayed my departure to see what was happening out of curiosity, but I was on my way out the door right before we diverted course.
His formidable chin tipped up slightly as he also somehow regarded her down his nose, eyes narrowing just a fraction.
Beck: As for being a workaholic - it takes one to know one.
She lifted her chin in response, eyes narrowed fractionally. She knew he’d seen right through her attempt to brush past another medical exam. She imagined he was used to far more seasoned avoiders, senior officers and the Captain. She was as yet no match. Still, she couldn’t help replying to his retort.
T'Fearne: ::wryly:: Your hypothesis relies on common human idioms rather than empirical data. ::conceeding with a fractional tilt of the head:: However… you may be correct, Doctor.
The CMO clicked his tongue, tapped the back of the PADD against his knuckles, then gestured toward a nearby biobed. She watched impassively, hands clasped neatly behind her back.
oO Humans make so many little noises, like babies or small animals. Adorable! Oo
Beck: If you want me to sign this, then I'd like to do a quick physical. Just to make sure everything is up to snuff. Any problems with that?
The Vulcazoid reufully accepted her fate and shook her head.
T'Fearne: The expedient resolution of this matter outweighs my objections… I have no snuff!
Beck crossed to the biobed and set the PADD down in an open corner, retrieving his tricorder again. T’Fearne followed, hopping briskly up onto the biobed and lying back as though her efficiency might hurry the process along.
Beck: You said your symptoms have resolved - I can confirm that pretty quickly. How are you feeling?
She saw an opportunity and replied with her now common response to such questions. If she said it with enough sincerity, people didn’t usually question her further.
T'Fearne: I am operating within acceptable parameters.
He snorted.
Beck: It's a simple question, Lieutenant. The biobed can grab your vitals and I can scan you myself to look for anything else unusual, but I prefer to start with how are you feeling because that can tell me where to start looking if something might be a little off.
The temptation to lie—to get through the visit and walk out cleared—grew stronger. However, T’Feane had a personal code she adhered to. If she could so often sense dishonesty in her colleagues and others, then it would be unjust to wield it herself. So she told the truth almost every time.
T'Fearne: Understood. At present… only a slight headache. ::knuckling lightly under her brow:: Actually…I would say intermittently since…
She hesitated hard.
How could she explain this to a non-Betazoid? Where did she begin? With her symptoms—or what she both feared and hoped all her life.
oO Since my paracortex got irradiated with sencha radiation? Since my third eye was awakened? Since I stood in the middle of DS33 while a Lattice Alliance incursion breached the sector? Or since I felt my mind split open as if every thought on the station poured into me at once? Yes, since about then! Oo
She couldn’t help the emotional reaction that surged in her unbidden. A sharp breath escaped her as she straightened abruptly to a sitting position, hands braced on her knees while she dragged in a deep breath to steady herself.
Beck: Response
T'Fearne: Hmm. ::holding up a hand:: I didn’t realise until just now, but I’ve had these slight headaches, ::small wave of the finger:: intermittently since my first mission…Do you recall the battle with the Lattice Alliance? I was embedded with Seiuri Squad, reinforcing defences at DS33. ::meeting Beck's gaze, brows lifting:: It was several weeks after we first met.
Beck: Response
She nodded, remembering reading Chief Carpenter's report about the events on the bridge at that time.
T'Fearne: I was shot, though not in the head—my shoulder. Some battlefield medic applied an osmotic eel to the wound. It was half-healed before I regained consciousness. ::she grimaced slightly:: It seemed a barbaric form of medicine, but effective. Battlefield casualties can't afford to be selective. ::dark eyes narrowing, seeing more than most:: You had your own battle to fight, I see.
Beck: Response
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
T'Fearne: I had experienced something… unusual. At some point, the station sector I was in was hit with a Sensha radiation wave. I don’t know if it was part of their superweapon or an unintended by-product, but both I and another full Betazoid on the security team collapsed. ::shrugging:: It could have been just a hallucination, but for several moments, I felt as though I could hear every thought in every head all around me.
She hesitated, disappointment flickering in her eyes.
T'Fearne: I never confirmed whether Ensign Valo experienced the same. But afterwards, my empathic range increased notably. I was rated an E3/T0 touch-only empath, despite my parents’ hopes and extensive tutoring on Betazed. It was determined that further development of my mental abilities would be… impossible. Yet now I can sense emotional auras without physical contact. It started as just a few centimetres, but has been subtly increasing. Lately, I can reliably sense empathic auras up to five meters—multiple individuals at once. On two… possibly three occasions, I believe I accessed surface thoughts during moments of extreme distress. ::quietly:: Do you think that could cause slight recurring headaches—especially given the timing?
She had watched Beck intently as she spoke, registering his empathic aura since she entered sickbay, and she noted the shift from orange flecks of amusement to something more like threads of deep blue intent and white prismatic reflections of clinical focus—though she hardly needed empathic senses to read his reaction.
Beck: Response
[Tags / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14