An Accident Waiting to Happen (RP Log)

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Roleplay Log
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20 Feb 2014
Quarters B103 [Deep Space 9]
In layout these officers' quarters appear like those of any other quarters in this part of the Habitat Ring. Particularly noticeable are the floor to ceiling windows in the sitting room which offer a view of the stars rotating as the station turns on its axis. Several pieces have replaced the standard furnishings and color scheme, among them a handmade pair of Vulcan-designed side tables that sit on either end of an Earth-designed sectional sofa. you see a stone slab suitable for a single adult male of average height in one corner of the sitting room. Several paintings adorn the walls, the centerpiece being a depiction of a man and woman in a desert, looking back over their shoulders at a luscious garden. A cooking console and storage cabinets line one wall. Through the bedroom door, you see a standard-issue bed and clothing racks containing dress uniforms and civilian clothing. From what you can see, the bedroom is neat and fastidious. The air is somewhat redolent of Vulcan incense.


Senka nods. "Our people's mutual pursuit of science and knowledge is, as you correctly point out, a substantive area of commonality. The records of the old Vulcan Academy of Sciences are replete with the contributions of Trill students and visiting Trill scholars."

Seryl smiles and shakes her head. "I always wished I had visited as a scientist." Jezer was too early and Moriah was too late. "Vulcan music, though, is sadly underappreciated." She looks with fondness to the harp besides her. "I admit I played quite a bit last night. It's very calming. And the light of the stars, and knowing the Celestial Temple is right there..."

Senka nods. "I am pleased," he says, deliberatly using the more emotion oriented term, "that you have found these quarters so amenable." A beat, and he shifts gears. "Admiral, perhaps we could discuss your travels. You pinpointed a starting point for your memory loss as beginning approximately 5 standard years ago. Can you tell me some of the places to which you traveled starting around that time and leading to the present?" His tricorder has continued scanning throughout.

Seryl pauses. "The Palmer and the Picard would have most of the data, either of runabout launches or transporter logs. But it was mainly between Earth, Trill, and Bajor - maybe a trip to Risa in there? Nowhere exotic, if that's what you're thinking."

Senka nods. "Emotional overtones aside, that is what I was thinking."

Seryl looks up with a baleful expression. "I may admire your mental discipline, but alas, I'm not one to emulate it," she says. Her expression then grows more serious. "Are you still thinking it was exposure? To a biological agent, or energy field, or something external?

Senka considers you. He hates saying what comes out. "Admiral, I cannot rule out any possibilities as yet."

Seryl nods slowly, in seeming understanding, even if she's frustrated and confused and not a little bit scared. "I don't suppose there's a fancy scanner up there on the Crusher that you missed?"

Steepling his fingers, Senka thinks about it. "There is something that can be attempted. I have examined your most recent transporter logs, and I propose locking your pattern into the transporter and examining you while in a recursive pattern loop."

Seryl tilts her head. "A recursive loop?" She doesn't exactly seem thrilled at the prospect.

Senka nods. He explains for Astor's benefit. "We will initiate transport and hold the admiral in the matter stream while I examine her in a disassociated molecular state. Perhaps it will clarify matters."

Astor-Cross nods, "We can certainly use the Crusher for that."

Senka stands. "Shall we proceed," he asks the two ranking officers?

Seryl stands and nods. "Here's hoping," she says, trying to manage a smile.

Astor-Cross looks down at her feet, "I should probably leave these in my quarters and put on my uniform shoes again."

Senka looks at Astor. "I will beam aboard and order the preparations. Would it be an imposition to ask you to escort her to the ship?"

Astor-Cross nods to Senka, "Yes. I will escort the Admiral aboard." She grins and teases, "The way he takes charge I have accused him of wanting my job."

Senka beams out on her teasing words.

Transporter Room [USS Beverly Crusher NCC-87802]
<< External Support Mode >>
The standard six-person personnel transporter pad seems to be augmented with a few larger cargo-looking pads, undoubtedly for transporting patients from the surface of the planet to the transporter room, or vice versa. This area appears to be rigged for emergency medical treatment, with a medical locker located opposite of the transporter console upon the bulkhead.


The door leading to Corridor slides open.
Astor-Cross arrives from Forward Section - Deck 2.
Seryl arrives from Forward Section - Deck 2.
The door leading to Corridor slides closed.

The Crusher's transporter room now contains a rigged sensor aray and a series of scanners. Techs scurry around under Senka's watchful eye. As the last test pattern is run on the transporter and the last sensor calibration is made, the last two techs come up to him. "Sir," the Andorian says, "all is in readiness." "That will be satisfactory," Senka acknowledges. He gestures for the techs to leave, which they do.

Astor-Cross steps into the transporter room with the Admiral close behind her. She looks around and chuckles as she turns toward Seryl, "I think we were both correct. My ship, but your job."

Senka affects not to hear the byplay. "Admiral, if you are ready." He explains. "We will initiate transport and hold your pattern at the point of maximum dispursion, maximal during normal transportation. I shall run a series of scans at that point."

Seryl chuckles as she looks at Senka. "I think you're right. As the line goes, he has a lean, hungry, and logical look," she says as she moves towards the transporter pad, looking rather approvingly at the sensor array. "I'm ready as I'll ever be," she says, stepping onto the glass.

Senka nods to Seryl. "Patternlock established. Energizing." Seryl's pattern disappears in the normal bright shimmer of the transporter effect. Rather than dissipating, the shimmer simply goes on and on. "Recursive patternlock established. Negative loss in pattern cohesion." He turns to the sensor aray and activates it. "All of these sensors," he explains to Astor, "are calibrated to detect quantum discrepancies of the sort I discovered during her last physical." He watches data scroll onto the portable master monitor he's hooked up in the room.

As the matter stream continues to cycle, Senka points to patterns on the monitor. "I am detecting increased quantum disruption. I shall attempt to compensate." He works over the console for a couple of minutes. Opening a commline to engineering, he summons the Chrusher's systems diagnostic engineer. A young Vulcan male shows up and Senka outlines the problem. The two work over the transporter, exchanging ever increasingly technical bits of information about annular confinement beams and boosting the gain to the signal. Senka is starting to be concerned.

At an exclamation from the Vulcan engineer, Senka lunges for the controls. "We are losing her," he reports calmly. "Pattern cohesion at 68% and dropping." The two work over the transporter, trying all the normal engineering tricks for reconstituting a pattern. In her mind, Astor can sense the engineer, who is simply concerned about not losing a pattern as a point of technical skill. Senka is getting desperate, in a logical manner, of course. He doesn't want Astor to be standing there watching while her friend dies in a transporter malfunction he, Senka, caused, and he will not be telling Roana Kyle that he lost her grandmother in a science experiment.

Astor-Cross hears the alarms and shouts, "Get her back!" She taps her commplant, "Medical, prepare for one patient" Then she says, "Beam her directly to medical."

Senka works over the transporter with the engineer. "Sir," the engineer says to Senka, "there is nothing more that can logically be done." "Kroikah!" Senka snaps out. "Our people's greatest weakness, Lieutenant, is that we do not improvize." So saying, he reaches back behind him and rappidly rips the guts out of one of the sensors, ignoring the transtater currants that burn his hand. Yanking the power cell from his phaser, he slots it into the open guts of the running transporter and begins wiring the new circuitry in. The result looks like jumbled pasta, a complete mess. The younger engineer can't conceal his surprise for a moment. "Sir, pattern cohesion at 60% ... and rising." "We require more power and more circuits through which the augmented pattern can run," Senka says calmly. He disassembles another sensor pannel, the snap hiss of transtater currant and the smell of his sizzling flesh adding to the scene. He ignores it. Slotting more circuits and power modules into place, he finally reports. "Rematerialization now." He spares a look for Astor. "She will have no need of medical, Doctor." Tapping a final control, Senka watches as Seryl materializes, whole and seemingly unaffected, on the Crusher's transporter pad. Senka's expression is reserved. "Admiral," he murmurs. Greenish blisters are rising on both his hands and Astor can sense the intense pain he's in. None of this is obvious in his voice or on his face. "Thank you for cooperating," he goes on. "That was most illuminating."

Seryl rematerializes, whole, yes, but not quite unaffected. She stands there for a moment, not responding to any of the technicians who go to make sure she's all right. Finally, she blinks, looking around, as she reaches out for a handhold, feeling - not quite dizzy, but far from level headed. "Is it done," she asks, slowly, cautiously, as if trying to remember what she was doing here in the first place. Some kind of test?

Astor-Cross turns and glares at Senka and says, "Lieutenant, you are ordered to medical to get yourself taken care of, and then you are ordered back here to clean up this mess." Yep, she pulled the rank card. Turning to Seryl, she moves over to help her off the transporter, "Admiral, are you ok?"

Senka nods, exiting the transporter room. Returning several minutes later, his hands are no longer blistered, and he supervises the Vulcan engineer as they together remove the augmentations to the Crusher's transporter systems. Some of the new circuits are burnt out and can't be used anymore, and the younger Vulcan orders replacements sent up from engineering. After about 20 minutes of work, Senka and the engineer have restored the Crusher's transporter systems to spec and reassembled Senka's sensor apparatuses, slotting pannels back into place. Senka looks over at Astor once it's done. "Transporter systems and diagnostic equipment have been returned to standard specifications, Commodore." He too is using her rank, and she would sense his uncertainty at the plethora of her emotional reactions, particularly what he reads as anger.

Seryl wobbles slightly against Astor's arm. "I just feel..." She searches for the words, feels a surge of frustration when they don't come, when she can't describe this uncertainty that has seized her. "I feel wrong," she says, and there's a deep and horrifying dread underpinning that wrongness.

Senka's medical scanner is in his hand at once, whirring.

Aly's focus is on Seryl currently. She asks her "Can you describe or tell us what is wrong?" She looks at Senka, "Be sure and check her symbiont as well." Of course he knows to do that, he is Vulcan and that is the most logical course of action, but she has to say it. She continues to help the Admiral.

Senka speaks to both of you, a bit more so to the admiral. "I am detecting the residual effects of mild neuraleptic shock in both the symbiont and the host brain. It is rappidly dissipating, but logic suggests that we escort you to medical for the moment."

Seryl puts a hand to her temple and really, really wants to sit down. "A biobed sounds okay," she says, looking with a pained expression to Aly. "It's like sometimes...I feel like I'm not here," she says. She truly can't explain the feeling, but it's terrifying.

Astor-Cross nods, "Medical sounds like an excellent idea." She motions to the door, "Shall we?" Senka flanks Seryl on her other side and they exit.

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