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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">Mission: A Cure
Delayed</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">Day: 3</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">Stardate: 2445.10.27</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">(Vulcan - ShiKahr-
Nivar Institute-Director’s Office- CTO Ensign T’Mur – 1546)</font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial"><br>
</font></span></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><font face="Arial">The wait for the
two doctors to finish their conversation had allowed T’Mur enough time to center herself and bring her body back into alignment with her mind. There was a quick walk to the director’s office. The continuous hum of the air conditioner buzzed in her ears, reminding
her of a time that seemed so long ago now. Doctor Tate sat behind her desk and offered a seat to T’Mur and Solice. T’Mur sat down taking the glass of water offered. She looked into the water as if contemplating the secrets that it held. Then she raised the
glass to her lips and too a long sip. </font></span></p>
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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font face="Arial">"The only way I know to begin this Ms.
T'Mur is by asking questions,” Tate said breaking the moment. "I have some concerns about the course of your treatment and I'm hoping you can provide me with some answers or at least clues that will lead me to the answers. Can you tell me about the healer
who was treating your case? I don't mean physical characteristics or anything but his manner, the questions he asked and any insight you might have on him.</font></span><font face="Arial">”</font></p>
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<span style="font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font face="Arial"><br>
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<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><font face="Arial">T’Mur
continued to look deeply into the water. She knew that this was possibly going to be the question asked. How could she tell them. After all, she got the treatment she deserved, did she </font></span><font face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="font-family: Arial;">not?
Then she looked over at Quinna, who continued to look worried. How much did she really want to reveal. That was, of course, an emotional response. Logic would dictate that she </font><font face="Arial">inform</font><font face="Calibri,sans-serif"><font face="Arial"> both
doctors to benefit from their mutual treatment. She took a deep breath, opened her </font>eyes<font face="Arial"> and looked up. </font></font></p>
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<font face="Calibri,sans-serif"><font face="Arial"><br>
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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><font face="Arial" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">“<font face="Calibri,sans-serif">The doctors who treated me after the attack gave
me adequate </font></font><font face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">initial first aid treatment. That is, they cleaned my wounds and </font><font face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">…
well, cleaned me up. However, I will say that there was very little done to address the</font><font face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">…,” she looked over at Quinna, a guilt welled up
inside her, “the rape. My parents felt that it would be most logical if we could put it behind us and definitely not bring it up in polite society. Nor even within ourselves. It wasn’t until three months later that the diagnosis of Pa’Nar syndrome was discovered.
I had started to lose strength in my left hand periodically. It was given some attention and I was given a cortical stimulator with a some directions of its use, but again, my parents wanted to keep the information very</font><font face="Calibri,sans-serif">…
discrete. The doctor agreed that it would be best that few new of the diagnosis. It might cause problems for their business. True to their concerns, anyone that knew of it wanted nothing to do with me. The doctor and medical staff could barely look at
me.</font><font face="Calibri,sans-serif">”</font></p>
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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><font face="Calibri,sans-serif">T’Mur realized that her heart had began to beat faster, and there was a burning sensation in her eyes. Her body temperature had risen 2%, and she had
begun to shake. She closed her eyes, breathed and brought herself back into control. </font></p>
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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><font face="Calibri,sans-serif">“Is that the information that you were seeking?” she asked.</font></p>
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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><font face="Calibri,sans-serif">(reply Tate)</font></p>
<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><font face="Calibri,sans-serif">(posted by Al Muir)</font></p>
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