A Lead on the Cure

Posted on Mon Apr 2nd, 2018 @ 2:14pm by Commander Mal Xustos & Hermes (Mercury) & Captain Enalia Telvan & Lieutenant Commander T'Pral Jordan & Lieutenant Commander Eneas Clio & Lieutenant Vaemyn & Akira Zhuri & Baroness 2nd Class Schwein von Alcott

Mission: Curing the Black Blood
Location: Conference Room
Timeline: Current

The Autolycus, the sleek, ultra-fast courier ship owned and operated by Hermes, slipped quietly into the Sol system and made it's way to Mars and McKinley Station. The ship was named after Hermes' son with a Human woman, a 'mortal' for lack of a better term. Mother and son had died long ago. Hermes had chosen not to activate his cloaking device, for the same reason he chose to slow to a warp speed more commonly seen in the Federation prior to entering the Sol System. He didn't want to attract attention to himself.

Hermes, in his work as a courier, frequently worked with a courier for Starfleet Intelligence. They had given him clearance codes that would allow him to enter any Federation port under the guise of delivering messages or even goods. The codes made him look like he had perfectly boring and mundane business to conduct. He transmitted one of the codes to Mars Orbital Control and was given permission to dock at McKinley Station. Once there, he sent a coded message to the descendant of his son Pan, Commander Mal Xustos, executive officer of the Hera. Not long after, he and Mal were waiting in the Hera's conference room for a few other officers to arrive.

"They'll be here shortly, Grandfather," Mal said. "Then we can begin."

Hermes nodded but said nothing. He had news for his new friends, just not the news he'd been hoping to bring them.

The first to arrive was Enalia, followed closely by the Baroness. "I heard that Hermod would be visiting us shortly. I assume that that's actually you, just your name from the Norse pantheons. We won't be to have a full staff meeting - some of the staff are tied up with repairs and won't be able to make it. I think once Clio, T'Pral, and Akira get here that should be enough. Vaemyn might be able to make it, but we'll see."

Hermes groaned.

"Ugh," he said. "Don't remind me of my time with the Norse Pantheon. Plenty of sex and booze and carousing, with a side of bad personal hygiene."

"Personal hygiene aside, Odin sends his regards. His ravens said you may have found a lead and will be visiting soon. Of course the one eyed bastard didn't have anything other than that to say... So it's all on you." Taking her usual seat, Enalia relaxed into it as Schwein took up a seat at the other end of the table.

Akira was already on a break when the call came in for a conference, having made time to help care for Daytona as he recovered from the leg amputation and subsequent bio-synthetic replacement attachment, and while she hated to leave him in the hands of the nurses helping him through his physical therapy, duty was duty and she responded promptly to the summons. Normally, she would simply blink into the room, but the computer was still being rebuilt so she was relying on the Herald probe android to sustain her, and so she entered the through the doors like a normal person then took a seat at the long table.

"How is Daytona doing?" Mal said. "We need him up and running as soon as he can be."

"He is well, very optimistic," Akira answered. "The biosynthetic limb attachment went well and now it's up to Daytona and his therapy. I have no point of reference for what a 'normal' or healthy reaction might be, but I think he's dealing with it well; he was clearly upset at the loss in between surgeries, but he's staying positive."

"Good to hear," Mal said. "And you? How are you adjusting to your new body? We need you, too, you know."

"I am well enough," Akira said uneasily. "The body is fine, more or less, it's an adjustment and I will be fine, but I'm finding myself quite rattled by Daytona's injury, and I'm not sure why; he is fine, I shouldn't have a reason for worry now, and yet I can't seem to stop worrying."

"That's perfectly normal," Mal said. "Daytona is strong and capable, even dangerous, both mentally and physically and now he's been temporarily hobbled, weakened, and it's hard seeing him that way. I'm sure he feels as rattled as you do. He's been wounded before, I'm sure, even seriously. But I don't think he's ever lost a limb before. Physically adjusting to the new leg will be only part of the battle. The mental and emotional battle will be just as difficult to win, if not more so. Just be there for him. Balance honesty with kindness and compassion. Daytona Ral is as close to being an inescapable fact of the universe as you're likely to see in a living being. He'll recover in time, and you'll do fine supporting him."

"Thank you, sir," Akira said with a small smile. "Also, repairs are coming along on schedule, no foreseeable delays at this time."

"Excellent," Mal replied. "Keep up the good work."

T'Pral entered the conference room, feeling unsure about being near anyone. She felt her Vulcan antibodies would fight the black blood more efficiently than non-vulcans but she was discovering that was not the case--even progressing faster than others. She felt on edge all the time for the past few hours. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, ignoring the thoughts in her head to rip the others' throats out. Recently her thoughts have included violence and suffering of others, which she attributed to the Black Blood. She sat down at the far end of the table. "Greetings," she said finally.

"Welcome, Commander Jordan," Mal said. "Please, sit, relax. We'll begin in a moment or so. How are you faring?"

Clio was usually a bit more prompt than this, but she was at least relieved to see that the meeting hadn't started yet when she arrived. There were, however, some unusually strong emotions running through the room, and she wasn't entirely sure just who they were coming from. She did notice how tense T'Pral seemed and gingerly placed herself some distance down the table from the Vulcan woman. She trusted T'Pral, but she didn't know how the black blood infection would affect either of them in close proximity.

Mal nodded and smiled at Clio.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said. "We'll go ahead at begin. Lieutenant Vaemyn can be caught up when he arrives. As some of you know, Hermes offered to seek the aid of his kinsman Asclepius the former Greco-Roman 'god' of medicine in finding a cure for the black blood infection back when our only infected crewmember was Nexi. Now that there are so many others, his report is even more important than ever. Hermes?"

"Yes," Hermes said. "Thank you. First, the bad news. While Asclepius has heard of similar infections, he was not able to offer a cure himself. The good news is that he thinks he knows who might have a cure for the disease. He believes that Celtic 'goddess' Danu may have the ability to cure the black blood infection, possibly involving the use of her cauldron. The different pantheons have had varying degrees of contact with each other over the years. As you know, most of them have been away from this plane of existence until recently. Like me, Pan, Hera, and Apollo, and a few others, never left this plane of existence. Danu is one of those. Asclepius believes that he knows where she set up shop after leaving Earth. I've given Mal the coordinates. Mal?"

"Thank you," Mal said. He called up an image of a star system, followed by a planet. "We believe that Danu and her 'cauldron', whatever it actually is, can be found in this system, on a planet known in Federation records as NGC-193475. A Nova Class survey ship recently visited the system and the planet. From orbit they took scans and even sent down a few covert survey teams once they realized the planet was inhabited. Civilization on the planet is pre-Industrial, roughly similar to Earth's Iron Age. According to Hermes, Danu has not been very social with the other pantheons since their return and Asclepius can't get us an audience with her. We're going to have to go there and find her, or at least her cauldron, on our own. Captain, with your permission, I'd like to start making preparations to leave for NGC-193475 as soon as repairs to the Hera are complete and we've been restocked and rearmed. The sooner we get our people healthy again, the better for everyone."

Enalia was already looking over the survey reports of the planet as soon as the name was mentioned. "Please do so. And begin picking your away team, Commander. It seems initial reports indicate that people like yours live in the mountains and are sometimes revered as spirits. I also want the entire crew screened before then to make sure we don't miss anyone. I know medical has had their hands full, which is why I wanted Lieutenant Vaemyn's department to head that up. As for Danu... Let's try going about this the right way first - ask for an audience the same way her current followers do and go from there. That way we seem respectful at the very least."

"You might want to do more than 'seem' respectful, my dear Captain," Hermes said. "Danu was a Celtic goddess. You can be sure she's probably got a 'Celtic' temper."

"And I have a Pirate Queen temper." Enalia looked up at Hermes with a glare that would wither most mortal men instantly. "You, her, Odin, Hera, Apollo, Q, Prophets, Founders... None of you are gods. You are merely more advanced aliens. If you deserve and earn our respect then you receive it. If not, there are Starfleet protocols and they will be followed." Looking back down at her files, Enalia continued. "As for Danu, she is as yet an unknown entity in that set of protocols so she will be afforded every respect, courtesy, and opportunity by doing things the way she's chosen to do business before we do business our way."

"We'll be fine, Hermes. Daytona and I handled Hephaestus well enough, and as far as her Celtic temper... my people are well-known for having fiery tempers of our own. And yeah, Enalia's a pirate princess. And somehow Mal puts up with us." Clio smirked just a little. "Probably best to be judicious and not send anyone who will piss her off though."

T'Pral glared at Hermes. She was sick and tired of hearing about customs and as far as she was concerned these so-called greek 'gods' could sit on a Vulcan Lurpa and rotate. She felt the anger grow within her--a part of her wanted to leap across the table and beat the living tar out of this so-called 'god'. She could feel the black blood wanting to take control as violent thoughts ran through her mind. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the arm rests of her chair tightly as her fingers dug into the fabric of the seat. She closed her eyes as she took a slow deep breath in an attempt to slow her heart rate and calm herself down.

Clio blinked and reeled slightly as the ferocity of T'Pral's anger slammed into her. With how the blood amplified her telepathic abilities, it was almost overwhelming. She didn't know precisely what had T'Pral so riled up, but she had a few ideas. "Simmer down, Jordan." Maybe T'Pral would hear and maybe she wouldn't, but it was worth a try.

"If you do anger her," Hermes said, ignoring what he deemed pointless bravado on Enalia's part. "Your best bet is to target her power sources, if you can find them, or the control center for her technology if you can find that. If she's been able to work fast enough, she likely has more than one power source already and possibly an auxiliary computer core or two. They'll all be shielded from your sensors. She would have learned from Apollo's mistakes. However, if you target her tech, you run the risk of disabling or even destroying her 'cauldron'. So, again, probably best if you don't piss her off. She may not be an actual 'goddess' but she is a highly intelligent being with access to highly advanced technology."

"Alright, Grandfather," Mal said. "We understand. We'll tread lightly and do our best to reason with Danu. Does anyone have any questions?"

"Ah, yes, actually I have a question," Akira spoke up timidly. "But it's not mission related, so maybe could I have a moment of Mr. Hermes time after the meeting?"

In a classic example of terrible and inconsiderate timing, the room was then filled with the loud whine that signalled an incoming transporter beam. Sure enough, moments later a somewhat dishevelled Vorta appeared in a whirl of sparkling blue next to one of the empty chairs, as if he had somehow planned it exactly so. Vaemyn looked somewhat off-kilter, his uniform jacket a little ruffled and half open, but even so, he sat down smoothly in his chair as if nothing was amiss.

“My apologies for my tardiness, Captain,” he said, inclining his head politely at Captain Telvan, before looking around the room, reading the various expressions. He smiled sheepishly. “Ah...I do believe that I have interrupted something. My apologies to you as well, Miss Akira, Mister Hermes. Please...um...continue as if I’d been here the whole time.”

T'Pral looked at Vaemyn. He had impressed her during the recent mission but his recent act was causing the Black Blood to stir even more. It was undisciplined, tardy, and disrespectful. 'Don't lose it T'Pral,' she mentally told herself as she fought the evil thoughts swirling in her mind.

"That would be dumb, Lieutenant," Hermes said. "You don't know what's going on and you won't be able to contribute intelligently. I suppose it's possible that you're an idiot and don't have anything intelligent to contribute, but as I understand things, Starfleet tends to attract the best people it can find, so I assume you're intelligent."

"Grandfather," Mal said. "If you don't mind, I'll take from here."

"Of course, young one," Hermes said, graciously.

"Ahem," Mal said. "You know, Lieutenant, about our recent encounter with Hermes, who he is, who his people are, and about their time impersonating deities on Earth, and that though most of these 'gods' left this plane of existence, some stayed behind, and that the rest appear to have returned. Hermes, upon learning of Nexi's condition prior to our experience on the Dyson Sphere, offered to seek out the aid of the Greco-Roman 'god' of medicine Asclepius in finding a cure. Asclepius does not have a cure, but believes that one of the Celtic 'gods', Danu, might. The cure may have something to do with Danu's 'cauldron'. Whether there is an actual 'cauldron' or if the term 'cauldron' refers to something else, we're not sure. However, we think we know where to find Danu. The information is on the screen now. It is a pre-Industrial society, primitive, and apparently loyal to Danu. As soon as the ship is ready to leave, we will be heading out in hopes of finding a way to cure our crewmates...our family of the black blood infection."

"Yes, which more are infected due to dealing with that damn Master!" T'Pral spoke up, her voice filled with anger. She felt herself lose control as the Black blood within her took over, filing her head with thoughts of violence, pain, and suffering. She was now suffering--all because this damned Hermes and his race of supposed 'Gods'. "I would also expect a fake 'God' to have more insight and stop criticizing others as if you are better than them!" T'Pral's hand rested on the grip of her phaser as she glared at Hermes--her eyes were bloodshot with an edge of blackness around the outer edges of her Scleroses.

A voice inside Akira sounded off in her mind; until now she had never displayed any sort of instinct or intuition, and maybe she wasn't now, maybe it was simply the remnants of her father's experiences guiding her, but Akira reached over to the Vulcan woman sitting next to her and grabbed T'Pral's phaser hand, holding it in vice-like grip to keep the weapon holstered.

"These gods are not responsible for the infection and are under no obligation to help us," Akira reminded T'Pral with a sternness that was uncharacteristic of her normally soft-spoken demeanor. "Demands and aggression will not get us what we want, you need to calm down."

T'Pral looked at the program as the blackness around her eyes seemed to increase. "Aggression? My dear, you have no idea how much aggression I am capable of. Now, release me or I'll reprogram your matrix to make you believe you are nothing more than a simple cleaning program. Then again, how is a mere program even allowed to intermingle with biologicals? Go back to the holodeck where you belong, program! You'll never be considered sentient." T'Pral felt herself lose control more by the moment. She truly respected Akira but at the moment, the Black Blood was taking control--it seemed the harder she fought, the harder it was to keep the blackness at bay. Was her life doomed already? Would she become like the Master? Would she end up killing those aboard the Hera?

There was a blur and a gust of wind and suddenly Hermes appeared behind T'Pral with a hypo-like device in his hand. He quickly injected the Vulcan in the neck and relieved her of her phaser. He stepped back from T'Pral and tossed the weapon to Mal, who caught it easily.

"What did you inject her with?" Mal asked.

"Something Asclepius whipped up," Hermes replied. "It was designed to keep Nexi calm. If I'd known that a Vulcan was infected, I would have had him concoct something stronger. Still, this should take the edge off."

There was another blur and gust of wind combination and Hermes was back on the other side of the table from T'Pral.

"Now that I'm out of reach," he said. "How are you feeling, Commander Jordan?"

T'Pral blinked several times. She looked at everyone, recalling what she said to Akira. "I am obviously not doing well...I apologize for my words, Akira."

Akira withdrew her hand from T'Pral now that she had been pacified and disarmed, but she remained in stunned silence in her chair, looking very much like she had been physically struck by T'Pral's words; no, T'Pral couldn't reprogram her, would never do it even if she could, but why did that not bring Akira any solace?

While everyone was distracted by T'Pral's outbursts, Clio quietly clenched her left hand into a tight fist under the table. The sharp pinch of her nails digging into her palm kept her from losing control, but it was a close thing. She was shaking ever so slightly under the strain of her own impulses combined with the anger and aggression she felt from T'Pral, and she didn't trust herself to address the situation without making it any worse.

Enalia was torn between having the room vented with anesthezine gas and continuing the meeting. Her grip on her own retro phase pistol did ease up a bit in the hopes that they could continue though. Yes, she constantly had her old pre-Federation days phase pistol on her at all times now. What the rest of the crew didn't know is that it had been modified to fire a normal stun beam or a calibrated transporter beam that simulated full disintegration but actually beamed the target to a secret and secure room in sickbay. She'd only had need to use it once in her time as Captain of the Hera so far, but it was always an option.

Glancing around at everyone in the tense silence following T’Pral’s outburst, Vaemyn looked supremely awkward, still an outsider to the crew who had clearly been through a lot. It didn’t help that T’Pral was clearly not doing well, a deeply troubling fact given that she had selflessly saved his life back on the Sphere.

“I suppose this would be a good time to mention that we have developed a procedure to mitigate the black blood’s more deleterious effects,” he said hesitantly, glancing sheepishly at T’Pral. “With...um...with your permission, Captain, we have a team standing by to convert one of the decontamination chambers near Sickbay. Forty minutes in the chamber a day should be enough to bolster the infected individual’s control of their emotions, and hopefully retard the progress of the black blood infection. It’ll be quite hot in the chamber while the procedure is ongoing, rather like a sauna, but it should help.”

Enalia nodded. "If you think it'll work, then let's give it a try. And see if you can get more of those belts that Crewman Dedjoy created made up. I'll take any little advantage we can get right now."

T'Pral feeling hopeless and depressed and yet she still felt the anger stirring within her at her predicament. "Captain, I am obviously not well and request to be relieved of duty and restricted to quarters for the ship's safety. Fail that, it will best to simply kill me before this disease progresses any further."

"We have yet to kill anyone else yet and you seem to still be able to carry out your duties for now. Request denied. However, I want twice daily medical checks and reports on any changes in your condition." Enalia needed her Security Chief as long as possible and wasn't about to give her up now. "If there comes a time where we need to confine you to sickbay, we will. Until then, you have a responsibility to this ship and crew. Now is there anything else?"

T'Pral bit her lip to keep from protesting as that would likely cause her to anger again. "No, Captain," she replied through a strained voice as she sat back down slowly.

"Alright then," Mal said. "I'll have my recommendations for the away team to the captain for approval shortly. Those crewmembers who will be joining the team will be informed shortly there after. Until then, you are all dismissed. Please be prepared to leave as soon as the Hera is mission capable. Thank you all."