ILLUMINARRPG: Illuminarrpg: (3-1457) CTO- Ensign T'Mur

[Al Muir]

Mission:  A Cure Delayed

Day: 3

Stardate: 2445.10.27


(Vulcan - ShiKahr- Nivar Institute - Exam Room1-  CTO- Ensign T'Mur- 1457)

T’Mur looked at the gown that the doctor had provided her with with a questioning glare.  If she were concerned about the Vulcan’s modesty, she should not have bothered.  Modesty was not really a Vulcan trait.  Of course it wasn’t like Betazoids, however, to alleviate the doctor’s own sensibilities T’Mur opted to put the gown on.  Of course, once on, she really didn’t see the point, as it barely covered her body and had a large gap that openly displayed her back.

When Tate returned she directed T’Mur to lay on the exam table on her stomach.  T’Mur complied feeling the gown separate and display even more of her body.  She wondered who would design such a garment, as it’s apparent purpose was antithetical to its actual usage.  Then she felt something cold and viscus being applied to her spine.  She momentarily tensed.

"These sensors I'm attaching along your spinal column and running along your legs and arms will give us a good view of your peripheral nervous system” Tate explained. "Once the series is completed you will turn over and we will do a scan of your brain. The data will be accessible later today and will give me a good idea of how long to keep you in neural regeneration."

“I understand,” T’Mur said.  “I would like to have a copy of the data as well.”  Then she attempted to lighten the moment by using a comment she had heard Andrea use at the academy.  “For my scrap book.”

To be honest T’Mur was uncertain as to why anyone would have a book scrap.  But it seemed to be an activity that allowed people to reminisce over events.

“How long do you estimate the regeneration process to take?” T’Mur asked.

"The neural regeneration will take anywhere from 10 to 15 days, there's no way for me to give you an accurate timeframe until I have all of the data. You have no need to worry. The procedure is safe and at your age the side effects should be minor."

T’Mur frowned a little and asked, “Could you please quantify the word “minor”?  It has been my experience that, especially human doctors, tend to make the information seem less accurate in an attempt to alleviate their patients uneasiness.  The concern would not be necessary for me.”

The doctor seemed to ignore the question and went to the controls for the sensors.  Suddenly there was a light hum and a tingling sensation that moved out from the sensors on her back.  It was not uncomfortable, just noticeable.   In some ways it was almost relaxing as her spine began to warm, and the pulse of the intermittent electrical charges.  After a time the pulses became stronger and caused her muscles to twitch.  It still wasn’t painful, but disconcerting as her body reflexively reacted to the charges.  Then her left hand began to tremor as it lay beside her body.  She concentrated against the motion little avail. The shaking moved up her arm and into her shoulder.  Then it moved into her facial muscles.

As she lay there her mind wandered through a memory.  She went back to the initial doctors assessment after her attack.  She was laying in a room, not dissimilar to this one.  Her body had been abused, and her mind was in tatters.  The psionic rape from the forced mind meld had originally left her near catatonic.  Mind melds were no longer as taboo an activity as they had once been considered, but they were meant for a more… intimate means of communication, and it seemed that it was believed that she did not “fight enough.”

“It’s called Pa’nar syndrome,” the doctor was informing T’Mur parents.  “It is a neural disease that results in …”

“We are aware of the … “ her father’s voice said, there was a deep breath, “affliction.  There is a treatment but that treatment has a high price.”

“The price of not treating it properly could be fatality,” the other voice, the doctor?, said.

“We need to keep the news of this as quiet as possible,” father went on.  “How can we do that.”

“There is a place,” the doctor said, “but there are no guarantees.”

“We do not require guarantees, we only require to get past this.”

T’Mur opened her eyes and moved on the examination table.  Her breathing had become eratic.  She focused and brought her breathing under control.  She could feel her skin cool with the perspiration that she had begun to expel.  Suddenly she realized that she had lost track of the passage of time.  Then she could feel fingers on her back, and the electrodes being removed.

(reply Tate)
(posted by Al Muir)
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