Second Officer's Log

[Cmdr JFarrington 0]

Cmdr JFarrington, MD

USS Manticore 5108011.4

 

Dissection

 

Starfleet Academy

Stardate 5094122.6

 

Securely pin the living organism to a suitable dissection tray with a fitted tissue culture assay plate well. Note the condition of the dermis and epidermis – does it offer moderate to hard resistance to pinning, or are both soft and pliable? Once the organism is secured, fill the well with an approximate pH 7.0 phosphate buffered saline solution to completely cover the organism; saline keeps the tissues moist, maintaining correct osmotic conditions so the tissues will be in relatively good condition for the duration of the dissection . . .

USS Manticore

Stardate 5107121.0

 

Atragon lay very still, twitching ever so slightly, just enough to let Jami know he was alive . . . breathing . . . enduring whatever agony the silicon entity propelled along his neural pathways. It had wrapped itself around his brain stem. Not a good sign. And Jami Farrington – with her multiple medical degrees and years of experience – could only watch.

 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” muttered Commander Precip to Dr. Kyle Mele, who stood over Atragon, regarding him with a disconcerting look.

 

“Agreed. We cannot remove the exoskeleton, as necessary as it is at the moment.”

 

Necessary. It was Atragon’s own doing – his undoing – allowing the entity to use his exoskeleton as . . . as what? An apartment? A conduit? An incubation tube? What the hell was he – were they all – thinking? They needed to stay alive in a safe environment. And what about Atragon? What about his safe environment?

 

USS Ranger

Stardate 5096030.5

 

Lt. Cmdr Jami Farrington, Chief Medical Officer, stood over Lt Cmdr Topan of Vulcan, her husband, her bond-mate, as his life faded. The hand that had transferred his katra to her a few moments before, slipped to her belly, now seven months swollen with their first child. “Ashaya,” he said, barely above a whisper, then sighed as his hand dropped to hers, closing on it for the last time.

 

She could only watch.

 

USS Manticore

Stardate 5107121.0

 

“What if we give them something else to cling to, to feed on, to . . . do whatever they are doing? Something – anything – besides his exoskeleton?” There had to be something they could do. She would not let it happen. Not this time!

 

Silicon. Someone said silicon. Silicon wants more silicon. Jami spun around; Atragon was speaking. He was awake. Taken over by the entity, controlled by the entity, but awake and, as Captain Sovak so typically worded it, he was coherent. He was awake, and, through him, the entity was communicating with Kyle as to the best way to ensure the safety of both themselves and Atragon.

 

“We still require the safe . . . haven.”

 

“A safe location, such as the holoemitters?” offered Kyle.

 

“We simply can't give that to you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but growth would be expansion throughout a silicon computer matrix. We have only one of those here on Manticore: the computer core and its subsystems. And we can't let you into that.” Malcolm Escher was adding his feed to the mix. He was obviously frustrated, but in Jami’s frame of mind it didn’t take her long to mentally translate his frustrated expression into that of a calculating scientist. It was more than she could take, and as the conversation progressed she backed against the wall.

 

Securely pin the living organism to a suitable dissection tray with a fitted tissue culture assay plate well.

“You were there before, and you almost threatened to consume the entire core.”

 

“As before, we ask for relocation to a facility that can house us now and when we continue to develop.”

 

“And if we were able to accommodate that request - would the vessel you're currently in, Atragon, stay with us, or be destroyed in the waiting process?”

 

“The merge with him is not as invasive as with Watson.”

 

Note the condition of the dermis and epidermis – does it offer moderate to hard resistance to pinning, or are both soft and pliable?

“We can withdraw with nominal effect.”

 

“But we have no where else for you to go. Don't you see that? If the ship isn't good enough for you, what else is there?”

Once the organism is secured . . .

 

Jami returned to the bridge, no longer able to endure the discussion. Her husband was there, but not there. He was a mere housing for the entity. Not that those around him did not acknowledge his presence, but the immediate consideration was – it had to be – the Manticore and her crew.

 

The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one.

 

That’s how she left them, discussing the disposition of the entity, the disposition of the body that housed them. Given the choice between watching the slow dissection of her husband and his situation or tending to mundane matters, she had chosen the latter and had returned to the bridge.

 

Thirty minutes later Atragon was down, shot by Captain Sovak. Minus the entity, he was alive. Barely. His exoskeleton fused to his body.

 

Saline keeps the tissues moist, maintaining correct osmotic conditions so the tissues will be in relatively good condition for the duration of the dissection. . . .

 

A surreal déjà vu overcame her as she found herself pacing sick bay once more.

 

And she could only watch.