Researching Rita

Posted on Sat Sep 29th, 2018 @ 12:34am by Lieutenant Asa Dael & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Hera v Hera
Timeline: After Anamolies and Anachronisms

The beeping alarm jerked Asa out of their reverie. The "Rita's Turbolift Rides Scanner Program", as the leggy lieutenant commander insisted on calling the medscanning program, was giving an alarm that the quantum field surrounding Paris was in flux.

"Computer, where is Lieutenant Commander Paris at the moment?"

"Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris is currently on Deck 6, in the corridor outside Transporter Room 4," the soothing artificial voice replied.

=^= Doctor Dael to Lt. Commander Paris, Ma'am, can you please come to sick bay? =^= , Asa paged, hoping they didn't sound as panicked as they felt.

As her com chirruped and the doctor's message came through, Rita Paris paused to respond to the clearly concerned ship's surgeon when she realized where she was. One of the main thoroughfares was the gangway through Deck 6, which took you past transporter rooms 1-4.

"Paris here, Doc... am I in serious trouble trouble or just 'say, that's interesting' trouble?" Deciding on the better part of valor, the fleet-footed first officer accelerated down a side corridor away from the transporters as a pit of fear yawned in her stomach. Moving at a double-time, tapping at her PaDD for navigation the excitable executive headed for the nearest Jeffries tube. They were insulated, after all.

"Um, say that's interesting? Just whenever you can, and making sure you were ok," Asa responded.

OK, Paris sounds like she is feeling ok. But then again, she always does. Woman would probably sound chipper whilst being fed into a wood chipper just to spite her captors. Even so...likely not mortal peril. Steady, Asa. Don't freak out the patient.

Even as they finished speaking to the first officer, the doctor was pulling up a screen to monitor her progress and vitals, noting that as soon as Rita entered the Jefferies tubes, her vitals seemed to normalize.

In short order, the feisty first officer arrived in Sickbay, making her way through the enormous medical facility that occupied the largest deck of the USS Hera’s saucer section. Long legs and a military stride propelled the woman about the ship, and when she wasn’t making allowance for anyone else, Rita could cover a surprising amount of distance in short order. In this case, to arrive at the Chief Medical Officer’s office within a minute and a half of being called. Posing in the doorway as if she were a model for a pulp paperback fiction novel of days long gone past, a sly smile settled on her face. “So… what’s up, Doc?”

Which definitely wasn’t the sort of behavior one would use to conceal vast insecurities or considerable anxiety, of course.

“Your bosons and charms based off your readings. Are you feeling all right? When you passed by the transporter room, you went a bit…….wonky,” Asa replied, chiding themselves for saying “wonky” as it if were an actual diagnosis.

“My what now, Doctor? Bosons haven’t been a thing since way before my time- did you means bosoms?” Paris asked with a peal of musical laughter, letting herself into the ship’s surgeon’s office. “And wonky… do we know what ‘wonky’ means, or is this a science that we are developing so just about any data is new data?” For a pilot, Paris seemed to have a reasonable layman’s grasp of how scientific method worked. But then, she did spend an awful lot of time sharing minds with a Vulcan scientist, so perhaps it wasn’t so surprising after all.

Asa turned red as a tomato. “Bosoms?” they replied, a slight panic in their voice, “I…I….I wouldn’t discuss such things…certainly not with…..right, sorry. No, that is to say, something in your quantum signature is acting like the 21st century understanding of boson particles. Something that I will be presenting to Sonak as soon as I can compile the data. I wanted to check in with you though, to make sure that a.) You are well, and b.) Inquire as to what sensations, if any, you experienced right before I called you.”

Moving as they spoke, the doctor acquired a tricorder from the side table in their office and began to scan Rita. Noting on a PaDD that all scans were normal and no anomalies were reported from the blonde's medscanner bracelet, Asa moved to sit down at their desk again, facing the first officer with a look of amiable concentration.

“Boson… Higgs-Boson particles, right, the model for all particulate physics in Earth science,” the leggy lieutenant nodded, recalling her studies at the Academy. “As for feeling… honestly Doc, I don’t really notice a lot when I feel when I am between point A and B and locomoting at high speed. I can tell you what it feels like when I am in the room, if that would help?”

Asa nodded, Padd in hand.

“When I was greeting the onboards…. I know this sounds crazy, so please just bear with me. But I can feel it…” Paris relayed, and as she spoke, her hands came up, expressing along with her words, which began tumbling out faster, a far cry from her usual easygoing calm and confident demeanor. “This pit opens in my stomach, and I just know when the transporter is activating, even when people are beaming in. A jet of fear races down my spine like cold water. Then the hairs on my arm stand up and I start sweating, because my heartrate takes off, and it’s all I can do not to run out of the room, because I’m afraid that I’m too close, and and and that it’s…”

Hands clawed the air until Paris grasped the arms of the chair, her grip a bit too tense for comfort. “I can feel it tugging at me, and it’s like it’s trying to... it's trying to get me. And I know, I know how that sounds and it’s stupid and it doesn’t work that way, I know it doesn’t, but…” Struggling to compose herself, breathing rapid and shallow, pupils dilated, Paris’ brow furrowed as she muttered to herself. “Pull it together, girlie.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds like something quantifiable is happening to you, and that you are experiencing a physiological effect. It also sounds like this quantifiable event combined with repeated traumatic events is having a predictable, understandable, and again, quantifiable impact on your personage. You know anxiety and mental stresses can be measured through scans, correct? Are the scans stupid? Are other people stupid for experiencing trauma reactions, or is that an assessment you save for yourself, lieutenant commander?” their words were strong and confident, but delivered with a kindness in their tone. Asa knew something was happening, although they had no idea what. But no matter what the cause, they weren’t going to let Rita doubt herself over something completely beyond her control.

“Easy, Doc, easy.” A wry smile curled the left corner of the lost navigator’s lips. “Just me, I guess. I’ve been told my phobia is just fear for so long, I guess it’s a little hard for me to not apply my usual ‘buck up and get over it’ strategy. As fantastic as my life has been in my however many years I’ve been around, I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me, but… yeah.” Releasing her death grip on the chair, Paris exhaled long and low.

“Sorry to be a bit intense,” Asa replied sheepishly. They shifted in their seat, and began to rub the back on their neck with a distant expression.

“When I was a child my mother became pregnant with my baby brother. She knew something was wrong. She told my father multiple times that things felt wrong, that she knew something was off. He never listened. He convinced her she was giving into hysteria and it was all in her head, and that faith in the prophets would save her. She died in childbirth. I don’t tell you this for pity…I tell you this so you understand, I firmly believe our bodies tell us when things are wrong, and we should listen to them.”

The young doctor flushed, embarrassed at the outpouring of emotion. To hide their discombobulation, they reached for a PaDD to hide behind and pretend to be reading it while they got their ragged breathing under control.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Doctor,” the first officer offered, thinking a pat on the shoulder or a hug might be called for, but not wanting to further embarrass the physician. Change course, Rita. Get them back on familiar ground. “That does raise a question of my own… and this might sound odd, but… do you know how old I am? I mean, physically? It’s been… I’m not sure anymore.”

The doctor quirked a smile and quipped, "Sure sign of old age, that. But jest aside, let me see."

"Well, I am 162 years old according to my birthday," the cheerful commander shot back. "Not bad for a supercentenarian, eh?"

They scanned the blonde quickly and responded, "Based off the enamel on your teeth, given your likely diet during your youth based on your year of birth, combined with your genetic replication rates and the health of your bones, I would say you are 32. Happy birthday, I guess?"

“Huh… I missed my 30th birthday while amongst the living. I guess I’ll have to adjust my file,” the ancient astronaut frowned slightly. It wasn’t a big deal, but here all this time she’d though she hadn’t broken 30 yet, and the realization was mildly unsettling to her. Not important, Rita. New heading….

“Confession, Doc? I actually activate the replicator from across the room. I don’t like being near them either, but they don’t seem to freak me out nearly as badly,” the lovely lieutenant admitted. Taking a moment to steel herself, the comely cosmonaut raised her eyes to meet those of the frenetic physician. “I guess we could try a scan with me in the transporter room if you want to see what it really does to me? I mean, in the room, not on the pad, just… y’know, by the control panel but closer than the hallway?”

With an effort, Asa put on a bright smile and said, “So. We need to remove variables to get an accurate reading. While I’m 99% sure the fluctuations were not caused by another person, which is still a variable in play. Would you be able to coordinate a time where only Sonak, you, and I can be on that deck? That way we can gauge your readings as you approach the area with a limited amount of outside variables. What do you say?”

"If the scanner went off when I walked by, we should..." the internal struggle of the young woman played out over her face. Then it was clear she had arrived at a decision as her body language straightened and she looked ahead with conviction. "Empirical testing demands that we alter the conditions of the test to pursue relevant data. We should go try some proximity scans."

"Of course, but still keeping you off the actual transporter pad. I would like to extract some stem cells from you to see if we can't replicate the fluctuations without having to subject you to any more discomfort than usual. If you don't mind, we could complete that step now."

“Sure, sample away Myx Dael. I have no lack of stem cells. I can definitely cordon off one of the transporter rooms for an experiment, if you need to keep the data sample pure.” Paris chuckled. “I’d rather see them beamed around than me.”

“Um, about that. Normal extraction would involve using standard issue Starfleet medical equipment…all of which has some element of transporter technology in it. Aside from my concerns about exposing you to any transporter tech, given the data we are needing, this would contaminate our sample. We are going to need to complete the extraction through traditional surgical methods,” the doctor concluded, waiting for their patient to process the information.

The California golden girl stared blankly at the young immortal before owning up to her ignorance. “So what does that entail, Doctor?”

“Well, there is no nice way to say this, but it involves cutting into either your intestines, brain stem, or bone marrow, and extracting a sample. If there are not sufficient stem cells in the location that the sample is taken from, I will have to then cut into a different area. You will be sedated of course, but it is likely to feel decidedly unpleasant while you heal.”

“I guess medicine hasn’t changed that much in the past hundred years or so,” Paris grumbled. “Fine. Can you scan to determine if there will be sufficient stem cells where you choose to go in? I’d prefer not to do the brain stem version, if it’s all the same- I’m used to migraines and just recently got rid of them, and I’d prefer not to revisit them.” It was clear the patient wasn’t enthusiastic about the proposal, but was reasonably resigned to the procedure. “I need to be mission ready, Doctor. You can insure that I’ll be ready in a day or two, when we arrive at the Merkoset system?”

“Of course, ma’am. I will scan before I choose an incision site. I don’t want to go near your brain stem either. If we are lucky, you will have some in adipose tissues. I just wanted to make you aware of the process, and understand that I can only be 99% sure of harvesting stem cells, even with the best of scans. If you prefer, we can wait until our current mission is complete, although I’m reticent to do so as we don’t currently understand the nature of the technology you may be around.”

“Just… just get it over with,” Paris relied as her brow furrowed. “But make sure I’m not going to be an invalid for the mission. I don’t think this will be an easy one, and I’ll need my wits and physicality. But if you need adipose tissue, I do have something of an abundance in certain locales…” the ancient astronaut smirked slightly.

The doctor’s eyes took on a deer-in-headlights appearance as they felt their ears turn crimson at the implied reference to the first officer’s….well, headlights. “Um, of, of course ma’am. I will pursue the least invasive option. I recommend completing this at the end of shift so you can rest after?”

Rising from the chair with a sigh, the buxom bombardier offered a seismic shrug of resignation. “You’re the doctor.”



**After shift**

Rita was resting on one of the medical beds in Sick Bay, vital signs displayed over her head, while Asa completed preliminary scans to determine the best incision site. They never expected to be performing this kind of surgery on board- these types of things were usually reserved for the field- but Rita’s safety demanded minimal exposure to technology with any kind of transporter elements.

The instruments were thoroughly sterilized and Asa maintained an encouraging smile with the nursing staff who seemed less than comfortable with the entire affair. They considered using the EMH, but didn’t want to risk somehow contaminating the sample with holographic contact. The doctor didn’t think the EMH would impact Rita’s quantum signature, but this was uncharted territory, and the fewer variables, the better.

“Relax, Doc. If you didn’t know what you are doing you wouldn’t be here,” their patient declared, reaching up to grasp the frail physician’s arm gently. Those big blue eyes fixed on those of the young immortal. “I trust you.”

Asa gulped. Their first independent surgery, and of course it was not only a superior officer, but someone they were growing to care for. "Thank you ma'am, I'll see you in a few."

They clasped Rita's hand briefly while nodding to the nurse to begin delivering the anesthetic. The groggy look on Rita's face showed she would soon be sleeping, but Asa didn't move until Rita was fully under in case she needed anything. Then, setting their shoulders back and picking up their tools, the doctor set to work.

As soon as their patient was fully under, the doctor quickly removed a small amount of tissue from the underside of Rita’s breast, a bit from each one where the scans had indicated would have the best chance. There was a higher concentration in Rita’s brain stem and intestines, but the recovery time would be much higher, and there just wasn’t time. Thankfully each sample had adequate stem cells for testing, and Asa exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Excellent work everyone! Let’s allow the skin stimulators to do their job and then we will wake up the Lieutenant Commander. Thank you for all your efforts,” the doctor praised their staff.

Upon seeing Rita’s eyes begin to open, Asa said, “You did excellent, we had success extracting stem cells from adipose. How are you feeling?”

“Like somebody punched me in my left boob,” the starship siren smirked, wisecracking as always. “How’d it go? Success? I didn’t get a reduction while you were in there, did I?”

"You kidding me? I like my job...and my life," Asa said with a wink and a smile, "But no, we only needed to take about 2 grams of tissue. I know it feels uncomfortable, but you will be right as rain after a good nights sleep."

“Outstanding work, Doctor. Thank you,” the first officer smiled, a warm and gentle smile unlike the ones she turned on when she was trying to dazzle or the mischievous smile when she was being sly or flippant. Instead it was an expression of gratitude, and it was clearly not for the surgery, but for the care the fledgling physician showed in their treatment of the unusual officer’s unique ailment.

“I’ve got a Vulcan master of the healing trance waiting for me, so I can easily promise to get a good night’s sleep, Doc." Paris asked as she swung her legs over the biobed to sit upright. "So when do we start field testing?”

"An excellent question for said master. I will ask him tomorrow when he is available, as I would value his presence in interpreting readings in real time. What say you both come by sometime tomorrow and, barring medical emergencies requiring me, I will follow you to the transporter room of your choice?"

"Oh-nine-hundred we'll meet you... could someone get me a PaDD please... thank you nurse." The recently revived retro officer logged into the device, did a quick search, tapping away at the tablet , then speaking as she worked. "Transporter Room 4 on Deck 6 is closed at 08:50 til ten-hundred for experimentation. I've requested a liase between Medical and Science to borrow Mr. Sonak for an experiment, which you'll need to authorize as well as Lieutenant Vaemyn."

Barely awake and back to work, the woman swam the bureaucracy of starship life as if she'd been born to it. Distracted by something else that popped up on her never-ending list of things to do, she peered at the tablet for another second before looking up, smiling then leaning into the young doctor's space just a tad as her smile turned to more of a cheshire grin.

"Okay, I was a brave girl. Where's my lollipop?"