Vilanne

I think it cost some solders their sanity by repetitive use. LOL! No Use Kansas!

Took a while for STSF.net to even load. I have the latest Java, temp files, cookies and cache were cleaned a couple weeks ago. I got booted after about 10 minutes in game - and it took just as long for STSF.net to load and allow me to log in again. Vilanne Chalice - Manticore CMO.

“Computer – MT plus 15 minutes, set.” Dr. Chalice called after the 2nd TOD for her patient; the maximum medical transition time of 15 minutes was Starfleet Medical timing for humans and most alien species they came into contact, allowing the doctor’s time to revive a patient. After this set time, a doctor could confidently call time of death (TOD) without having consequences of a body still having any brainwaves or possibility of life left in it – most of the time. The computer beeped to her command and automatically began the routine countdown on the readout. <RT>18:29:22|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:15:00; ([hh:mm:ss] - Real-Time based on the ships chronometer, Medical Transition timing defined by the medical procedure taking place, Minuend less Subtrahend resulting in the difference called the Alert Limit) The patient had responded well after they brought him around the first time, but more than one episode was less than favorable. She had to bring his functions back again and get him stabilized immediately so no damage would be found from organ degradation. The team continued to work to revise him with neural and cortical stimulators and since Dr. Chalice had his heart in her hand, she carefully massaged the valves to bring them back to life. Electroshock paddles couldn’t be used at this point. Chalice couldn’t put the heart down while re-attaching the left subclavian artery to the aorta, which has nearly been severed in his injury, and the two left pulmonary arteries were draped around her left index and middle fingers to keep them from being sliced by the handwork of the laser. Nurse Bellamy glanced at the chronometer embedded in the top left corner of the biobed monitor. It now read <RT>18:31:27, with the next time field reading <MT>18:41:22, and the last field in bolded red was blinking a countdown of <AL>00:12:55 on a dark background. She did regular verbal counts at approximately 1 minute intervals. This one was called, “AL Thirteen,” 13 minutes left before a final TOD call. That was all that was to be said; the team remained silent while continuing. The medical team had already been working on patient Erick Janeak for 4 hours. The major bleeders had been manually compressed until they could be cauterized and re-attached by hand. It was rare that all of this manual work was done on any patient, but the severe phaser damage called for it. The silent alerts now stopped when a slow beep started, alerting the team that they were now hearing a faint heart beat, and blood pressure was leveling a slow increase. “Ok folks,” Dr. Chalice exhaled, “he’s back with us. Let’s get this chest into a compression state so we can start the spin.” The staff knew what that meant, so they all worked in harmony with each other to get him prepared. “Computer, clear the AL.” The computer beeped once again and reset the numbers, with the AL back in light green against the dark background of the monitor. <RT>18:34:12|<MT>00:00:00|<AL>00:00:00 “Why in the galaxy do these officers not wear body armor when they go into these situations! I know this ship developed something… why was this man not wearing it!” Vilanne grumbled while she was manually reattaching yet another aortic section. Nurse Bellamy spoke up quickly replying to the doctor’s request, “I will make an immediate inquiry, ma’am.” “No, I’m just upset. We shouldn’t ever have this much damage with the amount of technological developments we have available to us on THIS ship.” Vilanne wished it was that easy to get everyone to use the best equipment readily accessible for each mission. All of the alarms went off again. The blood pressure dropped out so quickly, the bleeder couldn’t be found fast enough. In her angry voice, she called out, “Computer, recalculate for 3rd episode.” Computer: “Medical Timing recommended at plus 11 minutes.” “Fine, computer, set.” The computer recalculated based on when the actual event alarms went off, which was standard and more accurate: <RT>18:36:26|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:10:41. As she finished the manual work, the team prepared to put the surgical support frame over his chest. Dr. Chalice lasered the chest cavity back together as neatly as she could, and then rejuvenated the skin to hide all of the scarring. She turned off the low level force field that was running from the overhead array, which was preventing the patient from the risk of foreign microorganisms from entering his chest. <RT>18:37:37|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:08:59 The team lifted the SS frame and clamped it down. One med tech started up the overhead sensor cluster and the group of biometric sensors began to beep in rhythm, creating a nice restful melody. “Good tune,” Nurse Bellamy said in her smile. <RT>18:42:02|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:05:11 The team was much more relaxed now. That tune was always a relief to the team in the surgical suite. The tone now slowed and soothed, even Vilanne’s anger turned to calm. They were still working, more like a fine musical or classical opera, where everyone has their part and beautifully laced the melody and harmonies together to create this wonderful score of music. Even though the patient was flat lining again, the tune of beeps from the sensors were telling the team that though there just minutes to still bring him back, the SSF was administering the appropriate meds through it’s hypospray nodules, the diagnostic tools attached to all of this equipment was adjusting everything as necessary, and the unresponsive body wasn’t giving negative promise. <RT>18:42:02|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:02:49 “Everyone have their clamps in order?” Dr. Chalice called out in the surgical suite. Everyone gave the affirmative. “Alright, release,” and with that, the biobed started to turn on its axis. This process was one of the latest treatments for numerous fine holds in organs. The rotations would move the organs along with gravity, allowing the sensors to get even better scans than two thin tissues lying next to each other, not showing a microscopic bleeder. After the sensors would find these microscopic bleeders, they would be able to target them without the skin being open any longer, preventing disease and microorganisms from infecting the patient. <RT>18:43:07|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:01:05 Two rotations had been successful, except that the patient was STILL flat-lining, but the blood pressure in the body soon began to hold one steady diastolic number. This was an indicator that the sensor array would identify to make the determination to stimulate the heart with a couple low voltage jolts applied through the SSF. The doctors could always override any of these defaults, but the accuracy of the equipment coupled with the perfect timing of the computer’s Medical Diagnostic and Treatment Program (MDTP) was usually trusted. A little less at ease now, Nurse Bellamy called out, “AL One!” It was going to be a close call. The body temp was kept regulated through the SSF, the sensor array and MDTP were doing so many things to his heart, the neural and cortical stimulator settings were now also being regulated by the MDTP. Nurse Bellamy called the quarter minute countdown and went right into seconds at 10… Vilanne stood frozen watching the readouts. <AL>00:00:09….. <RT>18:43:52|<MT>18:44:22|<AL>00:00:08 <AL>00:00:07… <AL>00:00:06… <AL>00:00:05… Vilanne leaned forward and with one shove, the SSF was on Erich’s shins. She hopped onto the biobed, and put her knees on either side of his body. With one swoop, her clasped hands came down onto the center of his chest with a thump! The rest of the team knew exactly what to do for this cardiac arrest episode and was right with her, performing an old fashioned bag-n-tag. Pump, pump, pump… breaaaaathe. Pump, pump, pump… breeeaaaathe! Their in sync motions created a stern rhythm in his body, chest compressions and which responded. They were barely hitting eight chest compressions second, but if they went any faster the neural and cortical stimulators would shut off because the programming was set to cease when certain physical events were taking place. This team needed every advantage. “"TIME?"” she calls out as the physical exertions continued. The call… <AL>Minus 00:00:05. Five seconds past the standard; would he have brain damage? Organ damage? He would remain in a coma for days or longer until they would find out. No one discussed it; they all knew this was a hush situation. [surgical Suite doors are secure, sorry Kebbers… you cannot come in and help!]

[Joint Log with the Admiral and the Chief Medical Officer] There was blood. There was blood Everywhere! It was bad enough that the Admiral had an intense head wound, but he kept putting his hand up to it, as if it was going to stop bleeding, then would shake the bloody hand down towards the floor to shake the new drops off. They were splattering all over the side of his chair, the side of Sovak’s chair, and everywhere in between OPS and the command chairs. It looked as if there was a war on. Dr. Chalice went through the mental checklist of available medical persons to respond to the bridge call, but found that everyone was working with someone, except herself. She left Dr. Jaz in charge and hurried to the turbolift. “Bridge - STAT” and the computer directed the turbolift not to stop after having been given the medical STAT command. Hardly 6 seconds went by when the doors swished back open, giving Vilanne a different view of the ship. It hit her like a brick! The smell was overcoming before she even got fully off the turbolift, yet no one else was affected since they did not have such a well trained nose. That thick smell that makes you want to stop breathing in mid-breath, only her nose would know. She paused before finishing the step, or her breath, and glanced around. It was immediately clear the location of the Admiral. He wasn’t laid out on the floor, but was still sitting up in his chair, with his hand to his head. She approached him quickly, not even announcing herself to the bridge. Her scanner was on and pointed in his direction before her feet even stepped directly in front of him. “Wow, Admiral, something really nailed ya here. Hate to be the other guy,” and continued her scans for a moment. Atragon looked up as Vilanne approached and smiled to her, but it was a lopsided smile as his forehead was really stinging him now. The age-old tendency of ‘showing the doctor where it hurts’ made him bring his hand down to his lap and he noticed his hand was sticky with his blood. “Hey Doc, I’ve got a whopper of a headache, y’know? And I’m a bit light-headed. You got something for me?” She placed a gauze like covering upon his gash. “Of course, we always have something special to take care of you, Admiral. Let’s go down to sickbay. You have a pretty good knot on your head here, and I want to get the swelling down and check some things.” She took couple steps back to see how he was going to move around. A9 stood up slowly and his head started to spin, so he gripped the arm of his chair firmly to steady himself. Noticing his balance wasn’t really what it usually is, Vilanne reached over and helped steady him. She motioned to security to come help get him moved. Speaking a little softer, so his condition wasn’t known to all, she whispered, “Sir, would you like a site-to-site, or do you think you can make it?” She continued to assess him, including his speech when he responded. “I think I can walk there, but I would like to take it slow, if it’ all the same to you.” Once they reached sickbay, the doctors joined Chalice in making the Admiral comfortable and fussed with him as well. One tended to his uniform, trying to get the blood off of it, another was cleaning his head wound, another regenerating the skin and taking down the swelling. Vilanne finally stood back and just watched her team work in harmony. It was only a few minutes until the result of the head wound was cared for and Atragon was ordered to rest. “There isn’t much else we can do now, your headache should feel better. The bleeding has been contained, and the swelling is as far down as it’ll go until it has time to absorb the injection throughout the tissues. How are you feeling now, Sir?” “I’m feeling much better, so much so, in fact, that I’d even argue with you over the order to ‘rest.’ To be honest, however, I think I will spend a little time down here and let the Bridge and Science take care of our latest puzzle for awhile.” “Well, a little R&R never hurt anyone, even Admirals.” She turned to mark the chart with her orders, noting that he can have his privacy. “I will come check on you in an hour or so, Sir. We’ll have a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you.” The nurses immediately read Chief Chalice’s orders entered into A9’s chart and they were off like the wind, to spread their little words of wisdom, especially with such a celebrity in their midst.

Meritorious Achievement Award The reading time while in Sickbay wasn’t exactly the ideal vacation, however, she was able to catch up on the Manticore’s activities while on the shuttle, as well as really read through in-depth reports about her own Nanite Antibodies, as she had grown to call them. The material was quite a crash course in nanite construction, their ability to perform various tasks, and their coded instruction and destruction languages. The development of the tiny organisms, if they could be categorized that way, were infinitely more complex than any individual study she had ever examined at the Academy, or any study aboard Ranger or Manticore that she could remember. ‘Memories’; there was a fateful word. Her memories of any prior activities with regard to the Borg or further nanite infection were still gone. There was another word, ‘infection’, as referred to in many of the notes, but were Nanites really an infection or more of an invasion. {{ Refer to attached graphic 1}} Dr Chalice was in such deep study that she missed two meal trays, allowing them to grow cold. The detailed information about the character of the remaining nanites was consuming enough for her. These microscopic machines were capable of more functions than Starfleet could identify. The gigabytes of code contained within each one was amazing to fathom, as the Borg had developed a way to shorten code snippets into single characters that would perform large tasks. She read through thousands upon thousands of pages with topics such as ‘Mechanosynthesis’, ‘Molecular Assemblers and Machines’, ‘Productive Nanosystems’, ‘Nanorobotics’, ‘Nanotechnology’s Impact, Application and Regulation’, ‘Nanomedicine: Nanotoxicology, Sensors, and Nanobiotechnology’, and so many other titles on Nanomaterials, Nanoelectronics and so many other Nanoid functions. It was overwhelming for most, but for Vilanne, she was more than engrossed, she was completely consumed. Nancy Smith, the on-duty nurse, waddled over to Vilanne’s biobed, which was overflowing with PADD’s. She bent down to pick up a few that had dropped to the floor and placed them on her tableside. “Are you sure, doctor, that you have enough reading materials?” Nancy spoke with a tinge of sarcasm. It was enough to bring Vilanne out of her nano-trance. “Oh, sorry Nancy. I was just trying to catch up on things I haven’t had time to thoroughly study.” {{ Refer to attached graphic 2}} “Perhaps a meal will help all this knowledge go down easier.” Nancy pushed the food tray next to all of the PADDs, making them tumble down onto Vilanne’s lap. She picked up one, titled ‘Resequencing DNA with Nanotechnology’, and paused for a moment, then tucked it next to her leg for further reading after her meal. “Thank you Nancy, I guess I haven’t been doing any good with my nutritional intake.” Nancy glanced around for a second to see who was near, before replying, “I’d hate to have to report this to Dr Jaz. She’s pretty busy filling your shoes, though if I may say, she is doing a wonderful job at it.” “I’m sure she is,” she responded while removing the cover off of the hot food. “Oh, more remorphed pot roast proteins,” with a disappointed sigh, “Wish we had some fresh food.” Nancy took the lid from Vilanne and nodded, “Agreed, but I’ll see if I can get you some fresh vegetables from hydroponics. I hear they had a rather good harvest of asparagus.” After inhaling the food, Vilanne took the tray to the reclamator, dragging the filtration machine behind her, then returned to her biobed, made up the covers and slipped back in between them with a sitting position, so she could return to her reading. She reset optimal lighting and pulled out her next selection. Vilanne had requested some diagnostic equipment, while resting in the luxury of Sickbay, which did not even include a private room this visit since so many were finishing their stays in the other beds. With her medical tricorder, she tried to locate any of the nanites, but wasn’t able to with this limited equipment. She did, however, locate all of the spinal couplings attached at the base of her skull, and noted the replaced bones were now activation units and communication like ports, but only accessible within her body to the nanites. The filtration unit had completed its cycles, reporting that there were ±.0024% chance of leftover units from the infectious nanites, though reported that 100% of them were eradicated. {{ Refer to attached graphic 3}} She began digging through the DNA Resequencing book, grasping the concepts without any trouble. After reading through some of the design capabilities that caused strength in the walls of the nanite tubule structures, she reviewed some of her own test results after the Science Department did their cleansing. She took a sample of her tissue and used the high-resolution transmission electron microscopy (HRTEM), Raman spectroscopy and density functional theory (DFT) to perform these calculations. Not only had the outer hull structure of her nanites changed, they were stronger. No longer where they single layered molecule, but dual-layered micro robots that could work on a cellular level, but in such strength that virii and electromagnetic attacks would have no effect. Each nanite examined contained terabytes of code. The DNA structure of each molecule had been rearranged by the cleansing process, causing the structure to now be a Buckminsterfullerene, a spherical fullerene molecule. This spherical design of a truncated icosahedron made of 20 hexagons and 12 pentagons, with a carbon atom at the vertices of each polygon and a bond along each polygon edge which would change the way that the nanites were worked inside of her body. Each had the potential to be free-floating in that it would no longer have to work in clusters, and could carry out individual assignments, and that these double-walled carbon nanotubes would now be able to fight off disease, but to even act like a containment field with respect to punctures to any part of the body. She called the doctors over to review her findings and remove the filtration unit, but also asked a nurse to bring over a laser scalpel. She hopped that a visual of slicing through her skin to watch the nanites in their hyper-powered state, would be the example that would convince them to take the changes she had identified seriously, and join in conceiving the possibilities of those changes and potential for their use. (Sources: http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Nanite, http://en.wikipedia....ki/Nanorobotics, http://en.wikipedia....wiki/Buckyballs, http://en.wikipedia....Carbon_nanotube, http://www.fbi.gov/n...m_content=50541, http://www.fbi.gov/n...m_content=51508, )[/center]

((Joint log between a patient (Vilanne), her skilled doctor (Eva Jaz), and any medical assistants hanging about)) Nurse Smith cared for her first patient, having been given her first “watch” from Acting Chief of Medicine Jaz. She wasn’t going to let Vilanne die, though only a nurse, while every fluctuation on the full body scan alarmed Nancy. She kept approaching Dr Jaz every time something bleeped. “Dr Jaz, the green bar that reads ’blood pressure’ is getting smaller and keeps beeping at each segment. Is it supposed to drop that quickly?” Eva turned around starting to answer for the 20th time “Yes, nurse...” but she stopped. “No, it definitely isn’t!” The Trill doctor hurried to the bio-bed, eyes on the monitors. “Her pressure is dropping and some of her organs are showing signs of shutting down.” Eva swore under her breath. “Her nanites acted as antibodies against the other ones, but now they seem to be running out of juice, which is probably causing this system wide shut down.” The plumped up orange and purple body looked like something you’d drag out of a lake or a horror video; it was definitely not a pleasant site. The nanites had overworked what resources they had during the war, so the troops were working on minimal power. They were draining nutrients from her blood, and filling up her blood and kidneys with the remains of their enemy. All of her glands were drying up, especially sweat and oil, while the nanites were trying to repair themselves. Nancy’s eyes were frozen to the monitors, because with every moment, something else was bleeping, blinking, beeping or generally moving around. She had rather good skills when it came to the equipment, but with everything moving so actively, she was taken back. Walking around the biobed, tricorder in hand, Eva said, “We need to bypass her kidneys. Start her on dialysis right away; that will take the strain out of the kidneys while we work on getting her organs back to full potential.” Eva walked to the replicator as Nancy prepped for the kidneys bypass. Walking back with an hypospray, she injected Vilanne’s neck. “That’ll take care of the blood pressure issue.” “Setting up Standard controls now, Chief.” Nancy said with a little smile, because with Vilanne in this state, Eva would now be the CMO; no one except the Admiral knew of Vilanne’s resignation. She tapped on the console beside the bio-bed a couple of times, and the renal system panel illuminated as the body shield came up out of the bio-bed and covered her mid-drift. As the controls started to light in various patterns, she alerted Eva, “Dr Jaz, and its ready for your authorization codes.” Keeping an eye on the vitals monitor, waiting for the blood pressure to rise, Eva keyed in her authorization code. “The ‘dead’ nanites seem to be discarded into the blood stream and will be filtered out.” Watching the machine come to life, Eva turned to the nurse. “Now we play the waiting game.” She started walking away towards the coffee machine. “Oh and keep a blood sample on hand in case Science wishes to examine Dr Chalice’s nanites since they seem to have gotten rid of the other ones.” “I see, doctor, then samples of the recycled material, complete with discarded nanites, will be stored. My goodness, with all of these geeks around here, do they really need more toys to play with?” Nancy was trying to make light of the situation, now that no one was going to die and the ship was relieved from its scare. It certainly seemed funny before it came out of her mouth. A rainbow of shades were hovering over her translucent skin layers now, while fluids were being exchanged through her body, into the filtration system and back. Though Vilanne Chalice had not been 100% assimilated as a working drone, the nanoprobes had developed most of the implants and definitely all of the nanites necessary to communicate with the Collective. Upon assimilation, nanoprobes are injected though assimilation tubules from a drone into the victim’s neck, which immediately begin working on assimilating its prey’s blood cells. The nanites are then sent into extreme regeneration until they are dense enough, and able to manufacture direct communications with the Hive. Once the drone is connected to the Collective’s perfection, the nanites receive instructions, some to start building structured implants, some to replace individual organic glands with bio-synthetic ones, also to reinforce communication with the hive, repair any damage created prior to assimilation, and so on. It was that repair state that Vilanne’s body was now in - again. Communication with the collective had not been reenacted, so the nanites were working in overdrive on the communication and repair aspects. There were, however, some sporadic memories being triggered while in this state of coma. ~’Existence, as you know it, is over.’~If anyone had looked under the bio-bed’s silver sheet, the tenseness of her hands would provide a clue to her mental state, as they clenched against her uniform. ~’We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Resistance is futile.’~Her fingernails were dug through the material back into her own flesh, causing holes in the palms of her hands. ~’We are Borg.’~ Her lips parted just enough to let out a piercing shriek. “NNOOOOOOO!” She was still unconscious.

[Joint log between Vilanne Chalice and Nancy Smith] The shuttle was very quiet, except for the silent-running hum of the engines. Vilanne sat down in the pilot’s seat, even though it was on auto, placed her feet up on the frame of the console, and leaned back, staring out at Manticore. She was big from this view, tremendously big. There were a lot of bodies on that ship that needed to be saved, and she had done the right thing in this circumstance. Any officer would have made the same decision. She had, however, resigned; resigned to an Admiral, of all things. Her Starfleet career was over in that half-breath. Vilanne didn’t spend much time contemplating that. It was for the best – and that was that. However, if she could be found clear of this indignant nanite threat that Kyle Mele had created, perhaps she could get a job on any planet at the public hospitals and medical centers, for there were plenty. Doctors were always in need. Thoughts stretched across the galaxy trying to figure out what her many options were. There was teaching or evening medical administration, since she did have a Chief of Medicine tag now in her resume. Being on a garbage scowl or towing ship, whatever Manticore was identified as this month, wouldn’t do much to impress future employers however, and she’d never be able to discuss the dangerous things she’d come up against. The borg implants still within her were the next series of contemplative thoughts. She was well studied with organ replications, which was certainly a field most used with the military. What sorts of non-commissioned jobs lie ahead for her was the accumulation of her thoughts, until the COM startled her out of her thoughts. “Nurse Smith to Dr Chalice.” Vilanne almost forgot who that was, and couldn’t fathom why she was contacting her. “Dr Chalice here. What did you need, Nancy?” “Doctor, rumor has it that you left the ship, and I checked your location and received the information that you left in a shuttle. For years, ma’am, you’ve never walked out of any situation. I am concerned.” That left Vilanne thinking for a moment on how to respond. Nancy had been on the ship almost as long as she had. Nancy had never been known for socializing with most anyone on the ship, and as far as Vilanne knew, was only a great nurse; there was no clue why she’d be looking for her. “Nancy, there is no cause for alarm. I’m alongside the Manticore in a shuttle.” Vilanne discussed the reasons for being there and Nancy came to understand the why Dr. Mele was giving orders around sickbay. The conversation took approximately 4½ minutes, but during that time, Vilanne found out just how dedicated she was to the ship and its crew, and how much in love she’d become with Mitar Precip. The conversation was cut short, in order to address station issues. Vilanne was glad; another 30 seconds about Precip and she’d throw up. ((And that’s it, since our TBS was only 5 minutes. LOL))

[Joint log between doctors Chalice and t’Tamarak] The office closed behind Jaiysa, giving them a private area to chat. Vilanne stayed standing, following what Jaiysa was doing, not knowing if she was going to bolt after approaching the subject or not. “I was rather floored when I came across a pile of files that Chief Mele was still processing. My medical file was in there. I thought all my issues were resolved when my fever broke and I was released to active duty some time ago. I assume you know why they .. well, you... held this BORG information from me?” Vilanne’s tone and words were very similar to the conversation she had recently with Jami. Vilanne had went through her emotional upheaval over this topic after finding it out and talking to Jami, so she wasn’t as wound up now. She felt wounded when Jaiysa left sickbay for science, but now she wondered if this was the reason. Jaiysa said nothing for a considerable time, framing her thoughts. Vil’s hurt tone was obvious and Jaiysa felt a sense of guilt incongruous to what she had actually done, which was nothing but her duty. “I do na know everything,” she finally said carefully. “Au remember that I had only just arrived on board the Manticore at the time, and that my security level was -- and is -- limited. I removed one of the devices in the wake of au thoracic injury and evoked a severe hyper-immune response.” The calm tone in her broken Federation standard really soothed Vilanne’s response. She continued to listen, while changing her elevated forethought to a more calm investigation of the facts, instead of what she was probably to build into as a war. She kept her tone steady, hoping the familiar medical jargon would provide Vilanne with a certain amount of comfort and insight. “I requested to know more about what it was I had taken from you; Erei’Riov Farrington denied the request. Rather forcefully, actually.” Jaiysa’s lips twitched in a faint, rueful smile. “It was na my secret to learn and therefore I could na divulge it to au.” There was a long dramatic pause, as Vilanne’s expression changed, and the tension in her shoulders released. “Oh wow Jaiysa,” she admitted in response, “I am ashamed of my thoughts in my witch hunt. I cannot imagine how you felt not being given information to such a strange situation. It never dawned on me that you were being held in the dark as well. Did you suspect they were borg materials when you removed them?” She leaned over to Jaiysa to give her a hug before slumping back into the chair now, much more at ease, trying to get Jaiysa to join her in a more friendly conversation. “Na. I did na,” Jaiysa said with a slight shrug, waiting out the hug patiently before continuing, “Au surgery was in...less than ideal conditions, rokhinu. At first I believed it merely more shrapnel...” Her voice trailed off and she looked past Vilanne into the wall, remembering those taut, exhausting hours, sitting next to a makeshift drip as T’Prise held the rib spreaders apart and she extracted the bits of a shuttle console from the inside of a woman who at the time was a complete stranger, one of several, so recently the enemy, to whom Jaiysa had blindly entrusted her future. “It was clearly na, of course, when I looked more closely. But it was na until I arrived at the Manticore that I could make any guesses at all, and by then, much of it was out of my hands.” “They never told me, Jaiysa. Like I said, I just found out - I guess - by mistake. This file has information that goes back years, when it actually happened.” She waved the PADD with the information on it, then set it down in case Jaiysa had any interest. “My parents are gone, my relatives all passed on, I was put in statis for many years until they could effectively remove all of the implants. The last of those left,” Vilanne gestured at the base of her neck, “are up here at the brain stem, according to the charts.” “Ie. There were some which could not be removed safely,” Jaiysa answered slowly. “Au suffered a severe febrile response even from the imbalances caused by the surgery I did. It was deemed that maintaining what equilibrium we could was best.” “Now that I know,” Vilanne went on, “I am hoping that my emgrams can be restored, so I have all of my memories back - good and bad. Maybe I could get your help with that.” She paused to think about the mammoth amount of resources the ship had, including those in Science that Jaiysa would now have access to. Jaiysa stiffened involuntarily at the suggestion. She had never properly explained to Vilanne the reasons for her departure from medical, which had been so tied up in the unexpected and terrifying déjà vu which she had found in her first neurosurgery aboard Manticore. She had not described the fear of her own capabilities which it had inspired in her, or the memories that she tried so hard to avoid. She had not explained any of this and therefore Vilanne could na be blamed for expecting that Jaiysa would happily turn her expertise for her benefit. But Jaiysa could na be blamed for being discomfited by the idea either. “Perhaps,” was all she said, after a short awkward silence.” “I’m not sure who holds them, aboard Manticore or who knows where. I’m sure that information is somewhere in these files, so it won’t be tomorrow, of course.” She hardly noticed that Jaysia was pausing for serious thought about the whole thing, because Vil was having a hard time seeing past this issue. “I’m going to have to go through command and get permission. I hope they don’t deny it.” Jai smiled faintly. “Perhaps au will have better luck than I did.” “Than you did? Oh, being denied the info because of your security clearance?” Her forehead crinkled with minimal ridges, clearly indicative of her age. “Ie.” “Starfleet obviously had reasons to hide these things from me, but now that I know, there have got to be benefits to having nanites permanently in my blood, and those nanoprobes that release anytime I’m injured or stressed. Goodness, there would be some major benefits for the whole ship if we can contain what’s in here.” “It is a powerful technology,” Jaiysa agreed. “I will do what I can for au, when au require it. But do na trivialize the technology.” She paused, then added quietly, “Au did na see what it did to au when we lost control of it.” That simmered for a moment for both of them, and then Jai nodded, satisfied that she had made her point. “But as I say. I will do what I can.” Vilanne really hadn’t had any time alone with Jaiysa to talk since she transferred out, but she was afraid to bring it up, hoping to hold onto the friendship - so she tucked away her fears and questions for another time, glad in that they were talking at all. The conversation seemed to be winding down and Vilanne knew that they both had to get back to work. She was feeling that friendship again with Jaiysa, not the false abandonment that was created in her mind, and Vil wanted to build on that. “I hope that you can forgive me for seeing this so selfishly one-sided, and that we can hang out again very soon.” Jai puffed out a quiet laugh through her nose. “Au have been given a lot to deal with. I could forgive au for greater anger if au had felt it. Au are na, in the end, an angry person, rokhinu...and for that au are lucky. Au need no forgiveness.” Vilanne attempted the warmest “Hann’yyo” she could, then let out a giggle to cut the tension. “When I hear from command, I will let you know - then maybe we can come up with a plan on what to do and how to do it. I’m so glad you have my back, well... my brain on this one. There’s no one I’d rather leave it to, than you.” Jaiysa smiled faintly again and stood, turning towards the doors of sickbay without a word. I may know her forever and will never understand her, she thought, with a sort of dark amusement. Where does one learn to trust like that?

Officer Specifics: Vilanne Chalice, Lieutenant Commander aboard USS Manticore, Chief of Medicine Physical Stats: Long brown hair, typically pinned up on duty, brown eyes, fair skin, but recently went through a "shedding" of grey skin and hair that had to be treated with rather powerful drugs. Recently used as a beacon for Admiral Atragon to locate the USS Manticore crew while on mission in Romulan space, due to her borg implants that were damaged during a console explosion that she was the unfortunate recipient of first hand. The remains of her bio was rather boring, a new cadet, placed on USS Ranger, then onto USS Manticore. Studies in medical science and basic Starfleet Officer training.. but now, the full capacity of her depth, and character, has been revealed. Finally, she'll have to learn about this herself. (See http://www.stsf.net/...showtopic=23467 and http://www.stsf.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=23509 for a tear-jerking exposure where Vilanne finds out who she really is... or was.) With the borg implants that cannot possibly be removed in their entirety, Vilanne has had to learn how to deal with this, especially in stressful times, such as the whole ship being exposed to the IOTA Experiment, conducted by Dr Kyle Mele, that infected Manticore. Dr Chalice had to remove herself from the ship in order for the Science Department to eradicate the entire ship, including the bodies of some unfortunate SF Crew that fell prey to the nanites from the IOTA experiment. Vilanne's DNA structure was changed in that the Nanite Antibodies that freely flow through her body are no longer single nanotubes, but double structured in their covering, able to contain terabytes of instructions, and able to act independent of each other. (See http://www.stsf.net/...showtopic=24021 for further details.)

Vilanne didn't exactly believe what she was reading. Everything sounded so foreign to her and none of it made sense; withstanding the timeline that really did work. She wasn't ready to accept it. Somehow, in the back of her mind, she always knew that Starfleet played games for their purposes, but never something as malicious as holding someone's life on hold for so many years and bringing them into a different era without them knowing it. This was incomprehensible. The files on the PADD looked legitimate. The links and permissions all seemed plausible. The command sign-offs appeared real. The timeline was right in front of her, but why did she have so many memories that didn't fit. She continued to dig through the mess. The scattered set of dates started to mesh when she got down to one of the notes from a Starfleet Specialist, who wrote about memory em-grams being written for this specific timeline and patient. In a way, it was honoring that Starfleet thought enough about her to implant so much time and many resources into her - if it was all true. But why? She wasn't that special. Anyone could have studied all of the things she had. And what was up with this Borg implant submission in the file? She kept trying to turn her mind away from these awful things that she just couldn't believe to be true and focus back on the horrors of the Wyvern and the upcoming memorial service; even going to the lengths of putting Eva's picture up on her console, trying to distract herself and get some real work done, but in these 10 minutes she had in her office privately, she could not pull herself away. It was like that novel you start on a Saturday afternoon, and you cannot put down the PADD to even make a meal in the mess hall because you just have to know what happens next and how the thing ends. This wasn't a novel though, it was some strange life that someone else had, before she did. She'd been living the afterthoughts of all this research, surgeries, em-gram implantation's, experiments, and whatever else they've done to her. Was it the Borg activity she'd experienced that Starfleet felt so important to keep her on board such an important ship? Would it be her nanites, that clearly were still in her blood, according to the most recent incident. She paused for the longest time, however, when she saw that Dr t'Tamarak was her attending, and even signed off on the blood results and surgery of one implant. 'One implant?' she thought, there are more? She pulled through the digital data stream, there were so many files on her medical situation. Where in the world was she when this was all going on. The very thought that her supposed friend, the friend that bailed on her out of medical for some other department, would hold this information from her. Vilanne wasn't ready to go there. The medical notes referred to her as "the subject", "drone", and "assimilated". It described her medical situation in depth. There was a myo-neural cortical array implanted, which according to Starfleet Medical was standard in all Borg assimulants. They dealt with her grey-ashen skin back then with many combination hormone-pigmentation injections through osmosis. The exterior cybernetic implants were removed and multiple skin grafts and other biomolecular techniques were applied to make her appear normal. She was even given, which one doctor described as, "fountain of youth" therapy, to keep her at her current youthful age while they kept her in stasis for many years until they could full restore her to Starfleet as an officer. She found it unsettling, however, that there was no result listed in the blood filtration techniques used to try and rid her body of the nanoprobes that had originally been injected to complete the drone assimilation process. Starfleet's medical techniques were certain far advanced, but they did not have a way of removing every drop of fluid from a body, sans killing them, to remove these. The final notes from the Chief of Medicine at Starfleet HQ determined that since the nanites were relative to maintaining the health of the subject, that they would cease all treatment and research to remove such sustaining mechanisms." They were leaving her with these foreign bodies floating around her body. She had not been sick very often, in fact, she had studied these foreign bodies at the academy. The academy - there's a thought, or was it. Were her memories of the academy real? Was the USS Ranger really her first ship, and USS Manticore her second? At this point, Vilanne couldn't keep her thoughts straight. She wanted to cry, and yell, she felt like grieving, as if she needed to go kill something in the holodeck, and a plethora of other emotions. It was too much for her. Without being able to make a decision, she decided that Jami was probably the most likely candidate to hit this full on. She would have information others would not; and her hands were in this too, according to the files. She decided to send the message and have some face time, before her brain blew up. * * * * * It was a message she didn't quite expect to see, at least not now. Everyone on the ship was focused on the apparent destruction of the Wyvern and its crew. In fact, Jami had just returned from planning their memorial service with Vilanne and was about to begin sorting through medical files when rumors that the Wyvern had been contacted brought her to the bridge, where she now sat, next to her husband, listening to the discussion going on around her, not wanting to interject for fear of breaking their concentration. "So, we need to see what is behind that distorted space." "If possible, yes. Whatever is out there, our sensors are not detecting it. However, the absence of any data is data in and of itself. We can make inferences regarding size." "What about scanning in the theta band or one of the bands that our sensors don't normally use?" "...and can we see what's back there?" "We have run sensors at full spectrum, we are not receiving data at any band. It appears as if there is nothing in front of us." And on it went. Jami's eyes shifted from Atragon to T'Prise to Faldek and back, wishing she'd been there from the beginning, her head spinning with the possibility that the Wyvern's crew was still alive. Then came a tethered probe, another attempt to contact the crew after receiving what they all believed might be a message from them, and then a text on the XO command console: ~I have read my personal files. I presume you and I need to talk - in depth.~ Vilanne. Personal files. It took a while, but Jami finally sifted her memory enough to realize what Vilanne was talking about. Oh gods. With all that had been piled upon her lately - the shift to counseling, the loss of the Wyvern, and everything that went before - she had totally forgotten, and apparently Vilanne, as the newly appointed Chief of Medicine, had finally read her own file. How could I have been so stupid? She excused herself from the bridge. Swallowing her self-deprecation and resolved to not make any assumptions, she vowed to let Vilanne lead the discussion.

The whispered chatter from the nurse station was starting to get on Eva’s nerves but the unexpected comm from Tang announcing he would be spending the evening with her lightened her mood considerably. She shot one last dark look towards nurses Nancy Smith and Anastasia Bellamy before heading back towards the coffee machine to start a new pot. Vilanne would soon be back from the senior staff meeting where she stood in for Dr Mele and she hoped some delicious caffeinated beverage would helped her foul mood. How true that statement rang. Vilanne had not had coffee in about 18 hours and was way overdue. Her cup went cold that was poured at the end of the previous shift, and she didn’t refill. Her trip back from the meeting of the department head minds was unremarkable. She thought about the mission announcements, and her mind was tabulating the workload. Her new-found seriousness and dedication to her commission aboard Manticore was at the forefront of her mind. Upon approaching Sickbay, for one brief moment, she was about to step in and consciously look for Jaiysa... but it broke her step; she lightly stumbled and nearly took out one of the patients leaving sickbay’s doors as she approached. Dr t’Tamarak had been assigned to the science department; Dr Chalice had to get used to that. Pausing at the door, while it swished open, she cleared her head, remembering, then assumed a more somber expression and entered. Eva did not need to be a telepath, nor privy to Anastasia’s gossip, to know that Dr Chalice’s Andorian-winter-cold attitude towards her had something to do with Jaiysa’s transfer to the science department. She’d be the first to admit that there was no lost love between her and the Romulan, but Eva knew better than to think she had anything to do with Dr. t’Tamarak’s decision. The hush took over sickbay in a wave as Dr Chalice stepped past the nurses’ station. Even the nurses developed an eerie hush as she passed. Vilanne parted the silence as she passed through and made it safely to Chief Mele’s office. She sat across from his empty chair, leaned up on his desk and started poking at his console after flipping it around to face her. . Eva spied Vil entering Mele’s office without a word. Starring at the door, she finished her coffee debating if she should wait or bite the proverbial bullet and be over with it. Now was a good time as any, Eva walked to the office, hesitating a moment before hitting the door chime. Vilanne had tapped the console that started the pass of all of the notes from her PADD from the meeting to the console when the door chimed. She reached over and manually hit the button to open the door. “Yes?” “Have a moment doctor?” Eva asked, keeping an unreadable expression. “Of course, come in,” Vil said as she scooted over to allow Eva room to also sit across from Mele’s empty desk. “What’s up?” Eva sat down in the empty seat. “ I was wondering if I did something wrong? You seemed... upset with me earlier.” “Wrong?” Vilanne was a bit taken back, but it only took a moment for her to know why this confrontation had come about. “I am just taking my commission on Manticore more seriously. I have more work to do and need to be more responsible to the ship since Chief Mele has been tied up, and backing him up takes a lot of my attention.” She hoped this response was enough for Eva. The previous night’s dinner with Jaiysa was still bearing hard on her mind. She didn’t want to rehash all of that with Eva, or anyone else, because it hurt. It hurt really bad... and she was finding the only way to pass through this was to totally, and consumably, throw herself into her work. Eva nodded, knowing this wasn’t the real reason but not pressing the issue. “Alright then,” she said, getting up. “I have divided Dr t’Tamarak’s patients between Dr Raleigh and myself, everyone’s been contacted.” She walked towards the door. “Oh an there’s a fresh pot of coffee on.” Eva added with a small smile. Vilanne would talk whenever she wanted to, no need to press the issue. Before Eva could get out of the door, Vilanne jumped in to respond. “You could lighten both of your loads and keep me in the loop. I probably have room for some more patients as well.” Eva nodded again, “I just thought with the added responsibilities around here... but if you want to I will assign some to you as well.” “Yes, go ahead and give me some. We have annual physicals that need to be done over the next few days before we get into the badlands mission.” She paused for a moment, knowing she hadn’t briefed Eva yet. “You better come back in and let me explain.” Eva smiled slightly before doing a double take and walking back in the office, sitting once again in the same chair before picking up her PADD to take notes. “What do you know about the Badlands?” Vilanne began slowly. She didn’t know much herself, so she reached over and pulled some information up from the ships computer while waiting for Eva’s response. Eva took a second to think, “Err, beside the fact that it’s close by Cardassian space and known for wicked plasma storms... Not much.” Vilanne put the computer in audible mode so they could both listen, and the familiar LCARS voice began, “The Badlands are located in Sector 04-70, was a region of space along the border between the United Federation of Planets and the Cardassian Union, that are known for intense plasma storms and gravitational anomalies. For that reason, it was commonly avoided by most interstellar traffic. During the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, the Bajoran Resistance frequently used the Badlands as a refuge from Cardassian patrols. Because of the severely limited sensor ranges in the area, the Bajorans used echolocation techniques to navigate and detect other ships. Because of its strategic location inside the Demilitarized Zone...” Vilanne stopped the computers recitation of the initial facts and turned back to Eva. “My orders are to get some serious radiation treatments ready. I will need you to slice out some lab time to help with this project as well, ahead of all patients at this point. We are suppose to arrive in about, oh, 48 hours I think or less now. We’ll have to inoculate every crew member and department head that could come in contact with the shuttles.” Eva nodded, head down, making some notes on her PADD. “I will get Josh to start replicating the needed doses for both the inoculations and hydronaline for emergency treatment. Can you set up a rolling schedule for crew members needing the original protection?” “We may have to go to the shuttle bay to get all of them injected for this mission, as time is very critical. They are only giving us less than 48 hours at this point. There could be a need to formulate alternate hypo’s to cover types of radiation we do not regularly come in contact with.” She stopped again, there were so many items to coordinate with. Chief Mele typically did all of this type of organization, so having all of this on her shoulders felt overwhelming, but she was embracing it, especially under the circumstances in her personal life at the moment. “Oh and Science is using a ‘bioarmor” for this mission. I am not sure if we have to medically or chemically treat it to assist with the radiation poisoning or whether our inoculations will be sufficient on the away team alone.” Vilanne paused for a moment, thinking about how she needs to coordinate with the Science Department about this. She couldn’t do it, it just wasn’t within her, so she had to pass it off. She put on her authoritative voice, something she’d used a lot in the last 24 hours. “I need you to coordinate with Science for the answers to those questions. I will get a list of all of those that are going to be going on the shuttles or be near them when they return so we can confirm their inoculations.” Eva cocked her head sideways, trying to read Vil. She would have normally took it upon herself to be the interdepartmental liaison. She guessed the entire thing with the Romulan was still too raw for her to handle. For some reason Eva had never able to figure out why Vilanne had become quite so attached to Jaiysa. The Trill doctor, nodded once more indicating she understood. “I’ll get right on it then” she said, matching Vil’s professional tone. “Anything else?” she asked. Vilanne did not want to think about ‘it’, so she was thrilled to bury herself in a mission such as this. “No, I will meet you in the lab in about an hour. We’ll need to research possible antidotes for extremes that we’ve not encountered. First, I have a project to keep our nurses busy.” [source for the computer’s Badlands information was Wiki: http://memory-alpha.org/wiki/Badlands]

It wasn't pretty. Vilanne had managed to heal quickly from the past surgery. She always healed quickly. However, her body was out to get her now. She didn't want to wander around sickbay, and wasn't scheduled for a break. She had hours before her shift ended. She sat in the lab holding her abdomen through each of the cramps, while toying with some recipe from an Ensign Ghardelli she met briefly on the station days prior. - - - - - Vilanne wasn't one to normally complain about stuff like this, but the chicken in her salad was certainly not cooked – and Vilanne knew better than to eat raw chicken. She whispered to the waitress about the problem with her chicken. The waitress apologized and swiftly removed the dish from her table, returning shortly with a freshly cooked version. It was too much at that point, because her stomach was already churning. She turned down the replacement. The waitress tried to please her with any dish, but Vilanne continued to refuse, opting for a rain-check. Morsel Ghardelli worked in the kitchen on the station and was the one honored with handling complaints. The waitress explained to Morsel why the replacement food was refused, and that all other offers were also refused. Morsel had a way with customers, but loved being in the kitchen even more. She found out which table the unsatisfied customer was and paid her a visit. Upon approach she saw a sour look on the officer's face, but hoped that she could help satisfy her. "Thank you for coming into our restaurant. We never hope to have something happen to the food that would displease our clients." She paused and watched the lady look up without response. "I had hoped to replace the faulty meal with any of our other delicacies. Anything, truly, Lobster Tail, Steak Diane, anything your heart desires. We wish to make it up to you." Without releasing her cramping innards, she looked to the Chef, who was also an Ensign, according to the pip on her collar. "You are with Starfleet?" Morsel began to explain how her marriage displaced her at times at this station while her husband was on certain missions, since she was with child. She explained how she loved being in the kitchen and was taught by some of the finest culinary artisans in the quadrant. They spent an hour talking, sipping various teas, then finally sharing a couple sample desserts. After this long, Vilanne was starting to find herself feeling confident in her new friend. She finally explained that it was not only the chicken that caused her distress – there was a monthly friend visiting that wouldn't give up. Morsel excused herself, then returned momentarily with a data crystal in hand. She turned Vilanne's hand over gently, and dropped it into her palm, then slowly closed her fingers around the object. "This will be the best thing you've ever desired." The tab was picked up, and Vilanne eventually returned to the USS Manticore with the crystal in her belongings. - - - - - Her cramping had not stopped. She found ways to stay seated for some relief, but eventually found time to hide in the medical lab. She pulled the crystal out of her pocket, and toyed with the ingredients. She didn't have the proper cooking appliances, but the medical equipment had certain settings that would find a good replacement for such. After replicating all of the intricate delights, mixing as defined, and finding a way to cook the thing in the lab, the timer finally beeped and the machine shut off. She slid her hover-stool over to the machine and pulled it from the enclosure on the unit. The wave of deep dark chocolate filled the lab, and probably not only leaked out into sickbay, but through most of the ship. You could almost taste it in the air alone. The Brownie Delight was warm, and laced with more chocolate and vanilla sauce. This had to be the best tasting dessert she'd ever had. She dipped her spoon into the soft cake-like fudge and cleaned the spoon after each bite. She knew this was good, and knew she had to upload the recipe to the chef onboard, as well as release the process to the replication data, so that others could order portions in the privacy of their quarters. While others started coming into the lab to find out where that delicious smell was coming from, she noticed that there were no more cramps. No more pain. No more distress to her body to keep her from being mobile. She wasn't moody. She was delighted to have found a replacement for those monthly irritations, and was thrilled to share it with the rest of the female crew. ((::uploads a rather large bowl to Commander Farrington::D)

The invitation reached her COMM badge while she was still roaming and shopping the station to death. She was very excited to hear about the party, and that she could shop for even more goodies that wouldn't fit in her small quarters. There was no way she was going to have a replicated costume, that was the best fun! Most of her purchases had already been shipped back to Manticore, because she clearly couldn't carry it all. She decided to wear the costume back to the ship once she found what she wanted to wear. The costume store was full of people preparing for the party that evening, but Vilanne's party had been announced for the next eve aboard Manticore. How exciting this was for her, since she'd love dress-up games all of her life. She flipped through the many costumes, turning most away. She pauses at one, what was a green Orion woman's scant costume. She considered for a moment then went into the dressing stall with the small garb in hand. She put it on, what was to put on, and looked in the mirrors. The revealing aspect of the costume, even before the green skin tint was applied, made Vilanne blush even though she was alone. She removed that outfit and went out to find another. Rack after rack, she contemplated her options of ruffles and plumes, feathers, steel and leathers. "Vulcan or Romulan, we already did that for a mission." She continued to look through: Tellarite – not cute enough; Andorian – Not cool enough. She paused at one of the reptilian bipeds and read the tag, 'Alphan Reptilian Biped – guaranteed to fit anyone below 1 meter and 30 kilos.' She knew that ruled her out. The Vagan Scora costume caught her eye, but when she tried to lift it off the rack for a try-on, she couldn't get the hanger off the rod. There was no way she could carry that all night. They even had a Piersol's Traveller – which resembled a large tree with a million root-like legs – enticed her with his vivid blue leaves and royal purple trunk and roots. That tree-like beast was from Marcos XII where the travelers weren't intelligent but roamed blindly to seek food. Unfortunately, this creature's costume wasn't build for a biped human type. Upon coming across a Caitian costume, she petted the thick orange mane and long tail. She inspected the parts that came with the costume; a set of contacts that gave the perception of large golden eyes which in a real Caitian, would provide low-light vision. This costume kit even provided a language cube, when worn would translate certain languages into the deep, purring resonance of communication of the Caitian. The fur legs and arms looked terribly hot, and the headpiece didn't seem to have good circulation for air, so she turned this one down also. She passed up the Tiburonian with winged ears and bald head, and couldn't see herself slithering around on the floor all night in an Aldebaran shellmouth costume. In her search, she kept passing up anything that looked near-human such as a Corian, Deltan, Fabrini, and Betazoid. For a moment, a Bynar got her attention, until she tried on the skin-tight outfit and found it to be made out of an itchy fabric that she couldn't stand still in. There were costumes for non-human species that she wouldn't fit into. It seems that Phylosian's, with their many arm and legs, enjoyed costuming also, but humans wouldn't fit properly into them. There was a beautiful Berengarian Dragon costume of 15 feet long, but it required four people to harness. There were Eels, Horta's, Tholian's, Targ's and even a Denebian Slime Devil, but they didn't suit her. The Mugato, with large white cone shaped horns along his back, was interesting, but again – Vilanne didn't feel she could be comfortable for an entire evening of dancing and such with all that white fur. The Guardian of Forever costume was made of papier-mâché, but it looked as if some kid wore it through a holodeck training series. She had to find something fitting! She passed up a Gorn, Ferengi and many other bipedial costumes until she came to one in the back of the store. She stood there looking at it. It was her size, the headpiece even fit. She took it into the stressing stall and put it on. It fit like glue, so much so that she didn't want it take it off. She changed back into street clothing and paid the checkout machine. She planned on wearing it just before she returned to the ship. She was truly excited about this one! <Graphic modification provided by 'unusedbagels', and yes - that's my real face and ear. Cute, eh? :P LOL>

Dr Chalice never thought she would encounter such behavior by a Starfleet officer, but she had. Commander Faldek's direct response to Vilanne's silence, though there was a delayed response from her, took her back a few steps while she continued to digest all that transpired. She sat quietly in Chief Mele's office putting the medical report, and her professional opinion, into a draft to run by the Chief before releasing it to Faldek's supervisor. By the end of the report, she was in tears trying to figure out why a newlywed with a fantastic job and life would put his life in such danger. Quietly she exited Mele's office after writing her overall recommendation knowing that she would be marking this officer for suicide watch and permanently marring his Starfleet service record. Signing her digital signature slowly, "Lieutenant Commander Vilanne Chalice, MD, USS Manticore", the file closed and sent to the Chief. The torn doctor slipped out of sickbay to hide in seclusion of her quarters with a brownie surprise and milk, her favorite comfort food.

Dr Chalice gave way to taking a break from sickbay and visited the commissary. She picked up quite a few items and put them into her recycled shopping bag, which she often had in tow, "just in case." She made her way back to the crew quarters area and rang Dr t'Tamarak's door. There was no answer. She inquired of the computer where Jaiysa had gone off to -- she had just departed the mess hall, the computer informed her, and was moving back towards the quarters as well, so Vilanne waited by her door, bags under her arms and in her hands. She waited... and waited... and waited... She returned to her quarters, and put away the items she had gathered. She soberly went to bed. She laid there with her eyes open, thinking. Eventually, she sent a COM to Nurse Nancy, "Nanc, come talk to me, after your shift, ok?" A little while later,, Nancy rang the door and Vil opened it. She began to explain that Jaiysa took her up on this get together, but stood her up. She continued. "I waited," Vil explained, "only because she said she'd have a pajama party with me... so I brought pajamas, and a few other things." Vil pulled out the "other things" and Nancy and Vilanne did a little taste testing of their own while they experimented with the drink recipies that Vilanne was given at the commensary. A few hours later, Nancy waddled from Vil's room where she left Vilanne sleeping soundly. "Glad I could help her, she's had enough stress."