Lt Cmdr Quentin Beck - What do you call a psychic gnome who escaped from prison?
Quentin Beck
((Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Ronin, orbiting Endicronimas V))
Beck: As for being a workaholic - it takes one to know one.
His eyes sparkled a little with amusement when her eyes narrowed, even fractionally. He had quite a lot of practice at goading Vulcans by now. They all responded a little differently, but there were certain elements that were always the same. And while it was a valiant attempt to dodge the exam, he wasn't going to let it fly. Not this time, anyway.
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.
It took all of his willpower not to grin like a madman. T'Fearne's response was practically a full admission of guilt for a Vulcan. Instead, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before tapping the back of the PADD against his knuckles and indicating one of the biobeds nearby.
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?
There wasn't much hesitation before she shook her head.
T'Fearne: The expedient resolution of this matter outweighs my objections… I have no snuff!
His lips parted briefly as he considered explaining what he meant… then closed again when he decided it probably wasn't worth it. Quentin crossed to the biobed and set the PADD down in an open corner, retrieving his tricorder again. The Vulcazoid followed, hopping up onto the biobed and lying back. He appreciated the fact she didn't try to wiggle her way out of it.
Beck: You said your symptoms have resolved - I can confirm that pretty quickly. How are you feeling?
Her response came just a little too quickly.
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.
Quentin could sense the hesitation in her manner, though her facial expression didn't give away much.
T'Fearne: Understood. At present… only a slight headache. ::knuckling lightly under her brow:: Actually…I would say intermittently since…
His brow arched slowly when her hesitation became more apparent. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts and maybe making a decision… and she surprised him once again when she sat up abruptly and braced her hands on her knees to take a deep breath.
Beck: Whoa. Are you sure you're okay?
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.
The Doctor frowned deeply.
Beck: I remember. That battle was pretty harrowing for everybody, but I know you guys especially got put through the wringer. ::a beat:: Something happened to your head, then?
She nodded.
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.
Quentin's lips formed a thin line. There had been a lot going on at the time, and he'd been suffering from some form of PTSD after their encounter with the Consortium and the RoLFs. Enough so he'd made a fool of himself in front of Captains Shayne and Niac. And he'd had to put pretty much every member of the crew back together that had been on the Bridge at the time before getting stuck in an elevator, then a shuttlecraft, with Ian.
So much had happened.
Beck: Yeah, but I feel like your story is a little more interesting. ::indicating her head:: So why the headaches? Even a severe concussion would have been dealt with by now.
She paused long enough to swallow and he looked on her with concern.
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.
Quentin blinked. The last time they had talked - hells bells, had it really been that long? - they had discussed her lack of telepathy as would be expected in a Betazoid, and he had intended to do some research and take a closer look at her paracortex. They had, perhaps understandably, never gotten around to it.
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?
He blinked again, rapidly a few times this time, more than a little surprised at what she was describing. At first, he was terribly concerned for her, worried that whatever changes were happening might be doing some kind of harm to her brain as they weren't really meant to develop something like that so quickly. But that concern shifted rather quickly to curiosity and excitement as he looked her over.
Beck: What you're describing… sounds an awful lot like spontaneous development of not just more robust empathic contact but full blown telepathy. I'd say that's a helluva compelling argument as the source of the headaches.
T'Fearne: Response
He looked down at his hand, only just remembering the tricorder as he had completely forgotten he was holding it. He made a sound in the back of his throat before raising it so he could give her head a once over.
Beck: How long after your exposure to the s-waves did you notice this happening?
T'Fearne: Response
His head tipped in a slight nod as he continued scanning, his brow creased heavily over his eyes, though it was more in concentration than out of concern. Tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth, he considered what he was reading.
Beck: This is… wild. It's been a while since I looked at your brain scans from just before joining the Ronin, but I don't remember them looking like this. There are signs of extended activity right where I would expect them to be for a full telepath. And not just a touch telepath, I mean a full telepath.
T'Fearne: Response
Quentin looked at her seriously for a moment, lips drawing to a thin line.
Beck: My biggest concern is this might be happening too fast. That it could cause damage to your brain, be it the paracortex itself, or something else on the periphery. I think we need to keep an eye on this.
T'Fearne: Response
He looked upward thoughtfully before meeting her eyes again.
Beck: Brain scans once a week at a minimum. Twice would be better, if we can arrange it. And I'd like to see if you're suffering any ill affects from your exposure to the s-waves.
T'Fearne: Response
[Tags/TBC!]
Lieutenant Commander Quentin Beck
Chief Medical Officer
USS Ronin NCC-34523
A238810SA0