kyle_mele

Shadows. A joint log by: Commander Kyle Mele [Chief Medical Officer] Lieutenant Commander Garnoopy [Chief Engineer] The doctor paused before entering Sickbay. A deep breath was necessary to calm himself, regaining his composure before presenting a game face, if you will, to his department. He entered, allowing his gaze to drift over the spacious cove that had, in the past years, become a haven for him amidst the cloak-and-dagger fog that hung about Manticore. Here, events made sense. Here, moral issues seemed a little less grey to him. Here, things were seen in a new light; well, except for now, as the lights were extremely dim, even for his Trill eyes. As per the Department Heads meeting, power had been reduced to a minimalist level to conserve power. Life support had been cut in non-essential areas, reduced in others, and rationing had begun in an all-out effort to ensure their supplies lasted heavens knew how long as they began plotting their exit strategy. A way home. Was there a way? Mele caught himself, reminded that his staff looked to him for guidance, for support. The calm look washed again over his face - a pained effort, to be sure - and he strode across the Sickbay toward his office, weaving through the spattering of powered-down biobeds and dark medical consoles that dotted the room. The glass doors swished gently open, revealing the inner sanctum of his little haven. Here, his glass-topped desk. The decor, memorabilia of his years in medical service. A plaque noting his contribution to the Starfleet Medical Journals, an antique hypospray given by a trusted tutor some years past, the framed yellowed parchment bestowed by the Trill Medical Commission, recognizing and authorizing the undersigned to perform medicine; it bore both his name as well as Caren's, the former host who'd dedicated her life to the medical field. His eyes flitted briefly over the dimly-lit items accumulated over the years before he took to his chair, allowing a much-needed sigh. It wasn't that he didn't like adventure; no, if that were the case, would he have joined Starfleet at all? What of his past hosts? Hashna, who'd toured the galaxy for nearly sixty years, puddle-jumping from one world to another, gathering treasure tomes of xenobiological knowledge . . . even Marem, the daredevil pilot whose life ended far too soon. In the Mele Symbiont's short life of less than two and a half centuries, it'd had its fair share of adventuresome hosts. No, that wasn't the issue at all. Every host was trained - some would say brainwashed, even - to protect the symbiont. Now, Kyle found himself far removed from the quadrant he called home . . . no, the very GALAXY he called home, and other department heads were suggesting that they wait for some hazy event to occur that could possibly send them hurdling back through whatever mysterious conduit tossed them here in the first place? Well, fie to that, he thought. The more he thought on the situation, the more he was convinced that the Chief Engineer's ideas were more to his liking. Through what little contact Starfleet had with Voyager, the entire Fleet had learned that they'd immediately struck out on the fastest route home. Instant action taken to correct the problem at hand - namely, being millions of light-years away from home. Why, even the Prime Directive had been bent more than a couple times to facilitate easier and / or faster passage through areas of space - now if the powers-that-were in Starfleet Command hadn't ruled that a complete disgrace, why should Manticore's situation be any different? Meanwhile, not too far away, the eerie glow in the hallways only infuriated Garnoopy more. There they were, running on emergency power in order to keep life support online as long as possible and half the staff wanted to sit around and wait until utter darkness engrossed them all. The thing was, utter darkness wasn't like a dark, eerie night where the daylight was only around the corner. Utter darkness was when there was no knowing if the wall was two inches in front of your nose or miles off in the distance. That kind of darkness . . . there was no salvation from it. There was no going back at that point. That point, Garnoopy knew, was rapidly approaching. There was simply no running the ship on dreams and hopes that the galaxy would somehow right itself of the wrong that had been done to Manticore. The engineer moved quickly down the hallway, in need of help. Something had to be done - he knew he didn't want the kind of dark that was on its way to pervade the ship. Mele glanced up as the door chimed. A look of annoyance flashed across his face, but was quickly vanquished by a look of what could only be described as relief. Someone else was out there, and whilst that someone was trespassing in his chosen haven, it beat the hell out of musing over what seemed to be an inescapable paradox alone. Garnoopy pressed the chime button again, wondering if Mele was in. Mele was jolted from his thoughts - it was an impatient someone waiting. "Come," he called out, squinting against the dimness of the room to see who might enter. Garnoopy stepped into the room, noting the darkness and how quiet it was. Strange how the noice was never noticed until it was gone. He looked at Mele seated behind the desk. "Mele," he said with a note of exhaustion in his voice. Kyle's eyebrows raised every-so-slightly at the Chief Engineer. He regarded him for a moment, noticing the darkness of his face - wondering whether it was a product of the shadows in the room or a symptom of something deeper. "Garnoopy," he responded, calmly leaning back in his chair, interlacing his fingers as he did. "It's always a pleasure." Almost collapsing into the char across from Mele, the tension in the Engineer's shoulders was clearly evident, even to an untrained eye. "Same to you Kyle," Garnoopy began, "but, as much as I wish I were here to chat, I have a problem." The Doctor's expression changed not at all, save an even higher eyebrow-rise. Problems and Garnoopy seemed to go hand-in-hand, and recently, he'd been the go-to tell-all counselor of sorts for the troubled Commander. "You never do exchange many pleasantries - always to the point," Kyle resisted a smirk, noting to himself that the Engineer was nearly as bad as Atragon in that aspect, but pushed that thought aside, continuing, "What seems to be the problem?" A small smile was evident at the corners of Garnoopy's mouth. Mele was often rude and brash, but his intelligence had been impressing Garnoopy and lately he had begun developing quite a fondness for the man, despite their tendency to be at-arms with each other, sometimes nearly caught about to engage in the proverbial duel at high noon. "The subspace corridor will work," he began to explain, "However, the risk is that we may end up destroying a sector of space." Kyle leaned forward, his raised eyebrows now furrowing. There was no mistake to be made, he wanted to get home - no, needed to get home - but destroying an entire sector . . . well, the doctor in him cringed at the thought of the possible loss of life and the damage it could cause for years, centuries, perhaps even millennia to come. His lips pursed for a brief moment before he responded, "Define . . . 'destroying'." "The sector of space would be desolated," Garnoopy explained. "Possibly pulled into subspace itself. Nothing in it would survive." The information sank in slowly. Were there any sector of space that *didn't* contain life of some sort? Could they ever be sure? Mele didn't know what he was more disappointed about - the possible destruction, or the fact that a growing part of him simply didn't seem to care. A worried look presented itself after another moment's thought, before he asked, "Will it emerge on 'our' side?" Garnoopy's shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh, "There is no way to know." He sat up a bit straighter. "We're dealing with complicated subspace physics - you were an engineer, you understand." He paused. "But Escher . . ." his voice trailed off, the anger settling into his face, "Escher would rather just sit around and hope the galaxy rights itself in his eyes." The frustration was evident in the Chief Engineer's voice as he continued, "Kyle, we don't have forever. We have to get out of here, or we will die." The hardness in his eyes was clearly evident to Mele as he continued, each word said with complete determination, "We will die." Kyle nodded somberly, looking down to observe intently a randomly smudged fingerprint on the glass-topped desk. He'd made it clearly evident at the debacle of a Department Heads' meeting that the "whatever will be will be" mindset was unacceptable, as far as he was concerned. He glanced back up at Garnoopy inquisitively, "So . . ." he raised his eyebrows a touch, leaning back again in his chair, "Why have you come to me?" Garnoopy leaned forward, the look on his face intent. His eyes locked with Kyle's, the determination emanating from them like tendrils of heat from a bonfire as he replied, "I need someone to help me cut through the hypocritical bull###### this command staff pulls." His voice grew a bit louder - indignant, even, as he continued, "We murder thousands of innocent people on planets to stop technology from being developed, we allow rampant corruption to occur deep within the Federation, we destroy Federation ships, and yet now everyone is screaming about the all mighty Prime Directive." There was a slight pause as he gathered his thoughts. The outburst was succinctly put, and he nodded inwardly with approval. He glanced at Kyle, his voice lowering. "I need you to stand with me when it comes time to discuss this again. With your help, I think we might be able to cut through the constricting self-imposed bonds of the pointless red tape." Kyle gave what could only be described as an exasperated snort. "I think the better bet would be sedate the ones who object," he chuckled, "and go ahead with the plan." Mele smiled to himself before continuing, "If only it were that easy, I suppose." There was barely a pause before the Engineer, obviously unphased by the absurd suggestion retorted, "It would be that easy, hypothetically, if I had something that could sedate people." Mele's grin widened at the thought. He refocused on the issue at hand, pondering the situation for yet another moment, Garnoopy awaiting his answer, before continuing. "You have my support, provided we find a relatively if not completely empty sector of space." The Chief nodded, "Thank you Kyle." He stood, turned toward the door, then paused on afterthought. The yellow of his collar seemed to gleam, illuminated by some nearby brightly-shining sun. A glint off one of his Commander pips flashed momentarily as he stood, poised at the door, glancing back at Mele. Oh, and Kyle," he began, "hypothetically, if I had the right medicine, it *would* be that easy." He smirked - one of those half-joking, half-serious smiles that were rarely either. "Keep that in mind," he finished, allowing the smirk to spread into a wider smile. The doctor returned the smile - then the engineer was gone, striding back down the hallway towards his domain in Engineering. He knew what was about to happen; he knew they were going to do everything in their power to fend off the darkness. The doors swished closed, and Mele leaned back in his chair, again interlacing his fingers, face contorted in deep thought. What were the chances they'd find an area of space uninhabited, so conveniently devoid of obstacles to the crazy yet completely plausible plan hatched by the Garnoopy? What's more, he wondered, how would those ever-present soft-spined do-gooders be convinced - or would Atragon need convincing so he could pull out his trump card as done countless times before - the almighty Admiral overrule? Kyle sighed. It was going to be a long trip home. He glanced toward the ceiling, again noting the dimness of the room - and a dark one.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7354458.stm The man who grew a finger By Matthew Price BBC News, Ohio In every town in every part of this sprawling country you can find a faceless sprawling strip mall in which to do the shopping. Rarely though would you expect to find a medical miracle working behind the counter of the mall's hobby shop. That however is what Lee Spievak considers himself to be. "I put my finger in," Mr Spievak says, pointing towards the propeller of a model airplane, "and that's when I sliced my finger off." It took the end right off, down to the bone, about half an inch. "We don't know where the piece went." The photos of his severed finger tip are pretty graphic. You can understand why doctors said he'd lost it for good. Today though, you wouldn't know it. Mr Spievak, who is 69 years old, shows off his finger, and it's all there, tissue, nerves, nail, skin, even his finger print. 'Pixie dust' How? Well that's the truly remarkable part. It wasn't a transplant. Mr Spievak re-grew his finger tip. He used a powder - or pixie dust as he sometimes refers to it while telling his story. Mr Speivak's brother Alan - who was working in the field of regenerative medicine - sent him the powder. For ten days Mr Spievak put a little on his finger. "The second time I put it on I already could see growth. Each day it was up further. Finally it closed up and was a finger. "It took about four weeks before it was sealed." Now he says he has "complete feeling, complete movement." The "pixie dust" comes from the University of Pittsburgh, though in the lab Dr Stephen Badylak prefers to call it extra cellular matrix. The process he has been pioneering over the last few years involves scraping the cells from the lining of a pig's bladder. The remaining tissue is then placed into acid, "cleaned" of all cells, and dried out. It can be turned into sheets, or a powder. It looks like a simple process, but of course the science is complex. "There are all sorts of signals in the body," explains Dr Badylak. "We have got signals that are good for forming scar, and others that are good for regenerating tissues. "One way to think about these matrices is that we have taken out many of the stimuli for scar tissue formation and left those signals that were always there anyway for constructive remodelling." In other words when the extra cellular matrix is put on a wound, scientists believe it stimulates cells in the tissue to grow rather than scar. If they can perfect the technique, it might mean one day they could repair not just a severed finger, but severely burnt skin, or even damaged organs. They hope soon to start a clinical trial in Buenos Aires on a woman who has cancer of the oesophagus. The normal procedure in such cases is often deadly. Doctors remove the cancerous portion and try to stretch the stomach lining up to meet the shortened oesophagus. In the trial they will place the extra cellular matrix inside the body from where the portion of oesophagus has been removed, and hope to stimulate the cells around it to re-grow the missing portion. So could limbs be re-grown? Dr Badylak is cautious, but believes the technology is potentially revolutionary. "I think that within ten years that we will have strategies that will re-grow the bones, and promote the growth of functional tissue around those bones. And that is a major step towards eventually doing the entire limb." That kind of talk has got the US military interested. They are just about to start trials to re-grow parts of the fingers of injured soldiers. They also hope the matrix might help veterans like Robert Henline re-grow burnt skin. He was almost killed in an explosion while serving in Iraq. His four colleagues travelling with him in the army Humvee were all killed. He suffered 35% burns to his head and upper body. His ears are almost totally gone, the skin on his head has been burnt to the bone, his face is a swollen raw mess. So far he has undergone surgery 25 times. He reckons he has got another 30 to go. Anything that could be done in terms of regeneration would be great he says. "Life changing! I think I'm more scared of hospitals than I am of going back to Iraq again." Like any developing technology there are many unknowns. There are worries about encouraging cancerous growths by using the matrix. Doctors though believe that within the so called pixie dust lies an amazing medical discovery.

"Twenty milligrams Lectrazine." The surgery was not going well. Twice the Lieutenant's heart had stopped altogether; twice she'd been resuscitated. Even now, her body was caught in convulsions that threatened her very life. Lectrazine, Mele hoped, would quell those, allowing him to continue the delicate work on one of her body's most vital organs. Originally brought in for minor burns, it'd quickly become evident that Lieutenant Aross was suffering from major complications. Her previous condition involving heart weaker than normal, combined with the trauma her body had suffered from the hull breach and subsequent plasma burns - well, it all added up, and it didn't add up to a good combination for the Lieutenant. Mele reached in a bit further, trying his best to reinforce weak walls, doing all he could to rebuild muscles that never were that strong to begin with. It seems fruitless. Tedious work, and the result was barely noticeable. He sighed, taking a small step away from the table. He glanced at the chronometer stationed on the wall, noting that even forty-three minutes into the operation, it seemed as though he could use that time twice over and still have work to do. Her body gave another spasm. He waited a brief moment for it to relax away, then stepped back in to resume his work. This damned simulation, that damned Admiral, and his damned time limits set on things that should never be timed. How would he, in such a short time, rebuild the very muscle of her heart that was too weak to support her life-giving blood flow? Admiral and his time tables aside, he was sure going to give it a try. "Ten CCs alkysine."

whoa! who are you calling mr fuddyduddy?? or have you jobbed out my rightful title of cabana boy so quickly?! if so, i have half a mind to be quite shocked and appalled! :lol: oh, and yes.. i'm planning on attending. heh heh heh.

[From the Medical Station on the Bridge of the USS Manticore] Chief Medical Officer’s log, Stardate 58583.9. Lieutenant Commander Kyle Mele recording. It is official. For weeks now I’ve been questioning in my mind whether Admiral Atragon is fit for duty. Today, that question presented itself in a manner that could not be ignored. The Admiral gave a direct order for our phase-cloaked shuttlecraft to change course and to completely pass through another Federation starship, with direct disregard for human life. Based on this and previous concerns, all of which are documented in my official medical logs; I found no alternative but to relieve the Admiral of duty. As per Starfleet regulations, a concurrent officer was required to fully effect the relief of duty – Captain Sovak. As dictated by Starfleet code Section 119 subsection 31D, Atragon-9 was removed from the Bridge, after a necessary incapacitation by Captain Sovak, and was retired to his quarters, where he was placed under house arrest. Pursuant to Starfleet Medical code, I am also recommending Atragon undergo an immediate psychiatric evaluation. Until then, however, I have no choice but to insist that he remain under guard to prevent an attempt to retake command of the Manticore. I also concur with Lieutenant Commander Mitar Precip’s recommendation that the Admiral be guarded carefully, as he does possess a certain telekinetic skill which would aid any attempt to escape. And now we find ourselves in a precarious situation. While I have the utmost confidence in Captain Sovak’s abilities, the truth remains that in the areas of Black Operations, there is none quite so brilliantly dubious as Atragon. I can only hope that our mission is as straightforward as it seems. Indeed, if it is not, I shudder to think of the consequences we as a crew may be forced to face as payment for the safety of those crewmembers in the shuttlecraft. I believe my choice to relieve the Admiral of duty was completely necessary, and were I placed in the same situation, I’d do it again. However – I cannot help but wonder if I have gotten us in over our proverbial heads. Only the passage of time will tell. I only hope we will survive that passage of time. Computer, end log.

Biography: Lieutenant Commander Kyle Mele, USS Manticore Race: Trill Name: Symbiont: Mele Host (current): Kyle Gender: Symbiont: N/A Host (current): Male Age (Standard years): Symbiont: 226 Host (current): 27 Physical appearance*: Build: Lean, muscular, but without an overpowering demeanor. Height: 6’ Hair color: Light brown, streaks of blond apparent. Eye color: Blue. Health (Dr. Gerald Fitzhugh, Starfleet): Physical Due to a rigorous exercise program and healthy eating habits, Kyle is in excellent physical condition. The high points of his physical abilities include bursts of strength in extreme situations, agility, and excellent eyesight. His lower areas include lack of long-term physical stamina and an inability to maintain high speed. Mental: Kyle’s mind is sharp; he picks up on things quickly, and loves learning. His attitude is usually cheerful and his outlook on life in general is bright. Mental assets include long-term brainstorming stamina, decision-making processes, and computational skills. Low points include his tendency to make snap decisions under stress, and his painstaking attention to minute details. History (Symbiont and Hosts): Mele [symbiont] {2151- } Bred in the year 2151, the Mele symbiont spent the first seven years of its life underwater. The small, sightless, sessile creature, after having completed its maturing the pools located in the underground caves of Mak’ala, was joined to its first Host, Kyp. Being its first joining, the Symbiont gained most of its information on trill society from Kyp. Since leaving the caves of Mak’ala, Mele has always had a Host waiting to be joined when its current Host died. As a result, Mele has not returned to the underwater pools since it left in 2158. Mele is relatively young for a Symbiont, at only two hundred twenty-six years. Kyp [Host, male] {2137-2235} Kyp, a very successful businessman on Trill, was the first Host to the Mele Symbiont. As he was the first Host the Symbiont had ever joined to, Kyp’s personality remained much the same as it had before the joining. Kyp married in the year 2164 at the age of twenty-seven to an unjoined Trill female, Yrem. The marriage produced two children, Risila and Manea. Though both applied for Host, only Risila received a Symbiont, Hizal. Kyp died on 2235 of natural causes at the age of ninety-eight. He had been joined to the Mele Symbiont seventy-seven years, the longest of all Mele’s Hosts to date. Marem [Host, male] {2216-2238} Born in the year 2216, Marem soon found his “calling” as a smalltime cargo pilot, adventurous and dare devilish. In 2235, Marem was joined with Mele at the age of nineteen. After only three years, Marem was involved in a fatal piloting accident in which his ship was unsalvageable. The crew of the other ship involved in the accident was able to beam Marem onboard shortly before his ship was destroyed, thereby allowing the Mele Symbiont to be joined with another Host. In light of this and several other cases involving younger Hosts and immature decisions, the Symbiosis Evaluation Board began its policy of joining Symbionts with Hosts at least in their mid-twenties. As a result, only in special cases will a Symbiont be joined with a Trill Host any younger than early twenties. Caren [Host, female] {2214-2300} Joined with the Mele Symbiont in the year 2238 at the age of twenty-four, Caren was the third Trill to host Mele, and the first female. She had married only a year before her joining, to a joined Trill, Cunz Tarzil. The Symbiosis Evaluation Board joined her with the Mele Symbiont simply because Mele was the only Symbiont who had not been previously associated in marriage via Host to the long-lived Tarzil Symbiont. Because Caren and Cunz had no offspring, she was left free to pursue her career in the medical field. Though her ideas and solutions were cutting edge and forefront in the early to mid part of her life, she found that the advancement of technology in the medical department left her ideas obsolete and old-fashioned. After Cunz’s death, she took what was left of their estate and moved to a small island in the southern hemisphere. She died there of natural causes at the age of eight-six, having been joined to the Mele Symbiont sixty-two years. Hashna [Host, female] {2278-2370} The second female Host to Mele, Hashna was born in 2278. She was joined to the Mele Symbiont in the year 2300 age of twenty-two. She married at thirty, though the marriage ended in disaster only four years later when her husband, an unjoined Trill, died. Lacking any interest in the jobs available to her, she took the small fortune left her by her belated husband and departed on Trill on a trek for adventure. For fifty-eight years she spent her time visiting planets, vacation spots, and the like. It is believed the Mele Symbiont’s vast knowledge in the realm of xenobiology likely was accumulated in this time period. Hashna’s travels eventually led her to a small, neutral station in 2370, where she died of a heart attack. Hashna spent seventy years joined to Mele. Kyle (current) [Host, male] {2350- } Kyle, the latest Host for the Mele Symbiont, entered his application to the Symbiosis Evaluation Board in 2369. After completing the initial Host studies, Kyle left Trill to “find himself” before beginning the more intense training a Trill host receives prior to being joined with a Symbiont. He ended up on the same station Hashna was visiting and witnessed her death after only a few weeks on the station. Because the station’s stasis units were inoperational, the station’s medical staff contacted the Symbiosis Evaluation Board, asking permission to join the Mele Symbiont with Kyle. The Board gave its consent due to the fact that unless it joined with another Host, the Mele Symbiont would surely not survive. As a result, in 2368, at the age of eighteen, Kyle was successfully joined with Mele. After undergoing the routine personality change and talking with the station’s patrons, some of whom were in Starfleet, Kyle decided on a career as a Starfleet Officer. He traveled to Uridian II, where he passed the entrance exam, coming out barely ahead of another applicant. From there, he traveled to San Francisco, enrolling in Starfleet Academy with a major in the medical field, as well as a minor in the engineering area. He graduated near the head of his class, and was soon posted as Assistant Engineering Officer onboard the USS Illustrator-B (NCC-4000-B). In 2373, after a freak accident in the Engineering department, Kyle was transferred to the Medical department. Since that accident, Mele has developed what appears to be an extreme sensitivity to fluctuations in his host/symbiont borozine levels. As such, such minute things as bug bites can be dangerous or even fatal. After his transfer to Sickbay, he served as Assistant Medical Officer until 2373, when after the departure of the Chief Medical Officer, he was promoted to Chief Medical Officer. Kyle served on the USS Illustrator-B (NCC-4000-B) as well as the refitted USS Illustrator-C (NCC-4000-C) until 2374. Early in the year 2374, Kyle stepped down as Chief Medical Officer onboard the USS Illustrator-C (NCC-4000-C) and took an extended leave of absence. Upon returning, he put in for and received a transfer to the USS Manticore (NCC-5852) as Assistant Medical Officer. Kyle continued to serve onboard the USS Manticore (NCC-5852) as Assistant Medical Officer until 2376, when he was promoted to Acting Chief Medical Officer. In 2377, Kyle was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and given the official post of Chief Medical Officer.

i cry that you forget i went as well. :|

i expect someone to send me a glass of some sort! margarita, cocktail, martini, whatever.. i need *something* to remember you guys by for this year!

hello. i'd like: STSF's Official "Cabana Boy" as my title please. thanks so much. :D

i've been buuuusy this summer. trips everywhere, it's been awesome. so far i've been to indiana, snowshoe resort, massanutten resort, the beach (winnar!).. and i still have another trip to indiana scheduled, a trip to the rivah with a friend scheduled, another trip to the beach scheduled, and who knows what else! i'm so sad to miss this year's vegas trip though :D