"Dr. Crusher here. If this is a medical emergency, please go directly to audio. If not, please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible."
[Julian isn't normally overly tactile, but over a month of little contact with people outside violence has left him shaken and in need of a bit of friendly contact.
He steps in and hugs her, a little shaky and working very hard to not cling, not squeeze hard, just a brief, firm hug that undoes a couple of the knots in his spine and relaxes him into it.
Then he steps back. He's very aware of not making her feel uncomfortable.]
[Beverly senses his shakiness as the hug, filling her with even more compassion, and maybe more than a little anger on his behalf. Unlike Julian, she is a very tactile person, so even when he pulls away, she leaves one hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.]
Of course. Whatever I can do to help... don't ever hesitate to ask, alright? I'm here for you.
[He ducks his head, his arms folding back over his chest protectively.]
Klingons, Romulans and the most evil Cardassian to ever plague the sector don't make for the most cheerful company in a cell. Anyway, enough about that, it's good to see you again, however brief the last time.
You sound like you needed the hug as much as I did. At least I was surrounded by familiar faces and species.
Four months. That's a long time. I might not be from your ship, but at least, I know what 'Prime Directive' means, even if these reality show people don't seem to.
[She nods.] It's been... difficult. Particularly these last few days.
[She desperately wants to talk to him about recent events, about the guilt, but she also doesn't want to burden him with so much when he just got here.]
[She takes another breath. Might as well launch into it.]
I'm sure you've noticed by now the large ship we've been orbiting. It was sending out a distress signal, which we received about a week ago, and found the ship overrun by what we thought at the time was an infestation of large insects. It turns out they were the ones who sent the signal and they've been infected by some sort of fungus that has interfered with their normal neural patterns. They don't respond to any attempts at communication and have become hyper-aggressive, with roaming bands throughout the ship who will attack on sight. Fortunately, the fungus only seems to affect insectoids but...
[Pausing, she tries to not let her voice crack as she continues.]
Before we knew about all this... I... killed many of them. I can't stop thinking if I had just seen the signs earlier, if we could have developed some sort of sedative, given them some time until we could find a cure but now... I don't know that I will be able to develop one before they're wiped out, either by the fungus or our fellow fleet members.
[Merciful- that was terrible. That was really terrible. Both for the infected and for those who had been fighting them.]
It's not your fault, doctor Crusher. Beverly. Fungal parasites are notoriously difficult to identify even in familiar species, let alone as part of a First Contact. This isn't your fault, and while I can't absolve you of the guilt, I can tell you that I probably wouldn't have done anything different from what you did.
And now we know, we can try and help. Containment, so that the infection doesn't get off the ship, and start developing an effective anti-fungal but- it's rare to be able to save any organism in the advanced stages of a parasitic infection, especially in the neural systems. But we can still try.
[We, because he sure as hell wasn't walking away from this.]
Let me see your data. I might not have a medical implant, but I'm still a doctor and Starfleet.
[He's right, she knows he is... she was protecting herself and Allen and many others but the guilt's still there. She's supposed to preserve life, not destroy it. For now, she pushes that guilt down to focus on practicalities, gesturing for him to follow her as she talks.]
The people here... we can't expect them to react to a situation the same way we would. We've been pulled from all sorts of different universes and we're only a fleet in the sense that we are a group of ships who are traveling together. Even then it's by force: where the Marsiva goes, we go. There is little to no coordination between ships. I'm fortunate in that my crew works together well but ... containment is simply out of the question. People are even talking about refurbishing the ship and taking it with us. Convincing them not to do that will be hard enough, much less getting them to stay off of the ship altogether.
No, whatever we do, we'll have to do without expecting much support from the rest of the fleet. Or most of it anyway. My crew and several friends on other ships I'm sure will be willing to help.
[They reach the sickbay of the Blue Fish and she steps in. Though the room is very organized and clean, the evidence of her work can be seen everywhere: fungal samples in stacked petri dishes by the microscope, bottles of various chemicals, scribbled notes tacked to the wall, and carefully labeled insectoid body parts (courtesy of Hawke) floating in formaldehyde.
The first thing she picks up is her tricorder, which she hands to Bashir.]
Most of my raw data is on here. I haven't had the time to transfer it to the ship's computers yet.
I'm not worried as much as one of them contracting it... we can't take that ship with us unless we've purged it of the parasite and we do so to provide information to their people, or with some of the crew saved and on board. We can't just... claim shipwreck rights!
[He takes a breath to stop himself getting more worked up and starts looking through her samples, smiling and actually kissing the tricorder.]
Familiar medical technology, I've missed you so much.
As I was saying, cordyceps on Earth control the minds of insects and arachnids, or rather, control the neural system to force them to an advantageous point before the fungal bloom manifests, to maximise spore dispersal. We should witness some kind of similar behaviour in these, or possibly be able to find an infection source from a body which has already bloomed...
If it's already controlling their actions, it's thoroughly integrated into the neural system. Any fungicide treatment is going to need to be delivered fairly directly. Hypospray, whatever similar delivery system they have, I can't seem anything inhaled working, not fast enough to be effective...
[He's used to talking to himself. His medical team is fairly limited most of the time.]
[Despite the seriousness of the circumstances, Beverly can't help but be somewhat amused by Bashir's monologue. A small smile plays about her lips as she watches him poking at the items around the room. When he finally pauses to take a breath, she interjects.]
Julian. I've already taken all of that into account.
[Head of Starfleet Medical, remember?]
I have developed a few fungicides that have so far proved promising, at least on spores in the lab. However, as you say, the delivery is the problem. We have traditional needles, but I'm not certain that will work, seeing as their circulatory system is very different from any I've encountered. I'm hoping that with your engineering augment plus your knowledge of our medical technology that you might be able to design a better system of delivery.
[Julian looks up at her sharply, like he's just remembered she's there and then gives a bashful smile.]
Yes, yes, of course you have.
I... might be able to. I really need to see a fairly intact body. I know there's data, but I find it easier to think with the actual evidence in front of me. Namely, if they have a typically insectoid respiratory system. I don't see how they could, at this size, but if they do, then something airborne is probably the best chance.
[First putting on a pair of gloves, she crosses over to a large, rectangular container that she's managed to make into a makeshift freezer, with some help from stolen kitchen equipment. Opening the top, she reaches down and comes back up with one of the bodies she and Allen brought back from the ship. A couple of legs are missing, but otherwise, it's in good shape. She hauls it up onto the lab table, then looks back at Julian.]
I've already performed an autopsy on one of them - that record is actually on the ship's computers - but I welcome a second opinion.
[Julian helps himself to gloves and then hurries to help her with the large body.
It's fascinating, no doubt, but he focuses and starts looking for the normal things that are relevant. Basic systems, external openings into the body, mouth, pores, slowly going over it.]
I'm still inclined to think airborne, some kind of spray, maybe... You know, their ship should have medical records of some kind. There has to be a medbay on board.
[She nods.] There is. They seemed to have been working on a cure before their neural systems were completely overwhelmed by the fungus. Unfortunately, a lot of the data has been corrupted or destroyed, so I haven't been able to make much sense of it. Perhaps you'll have better luck.
[She watches him work for a moment or two more, then adds:]
Even if... even if we can't save this crew, I want to be able to send their people something, anything that might help them prevent this from happening again. [She shudders.] I know it's different, but the way they were acting on that ship... it reminds me too much of the Borg.
Even without that, they'll have medical records for themselves. How they most commonly deliver medication, what chemicals are poisonous, which are beneficial to them... that's what I'd really like to see.
[He pauses, not looking at the body or her, just somewhere else for a moment.]
I never encountered the Borg. I consider myself very lucky for that. But yes, even if we can't save this crew, if we can crack a chemical treatment for stopping it before it reaches this stage, we can leave that for them.
[Her voice is quiet, barely audible, as she thinks about Jean-Luc, about Hugh, and wonders what the insectoids last days must have been like.]
Let's hope you never do.
[Taking a deep breath, she turns away and starts busying herself with various tasks about the lab, picking up what she had been doing before Julian called, which was namely testing out batches of fungicides she's developed. For a long time, she's quiet, absorbed in her work and her own thoughts, but eventually she does speak again.]
[Julian chooses to not think about it. He thinks about this, running chemical chains in his mind as he keeps looking through the basic analysis data they have.]
Hm? Oh. Yes. I suppose so.
[He sort of... came straight here. So that counts as sort of, right?]
Because if you're not... well, you're always welcome here. I'll have to introduce you to the rest of my crew of course, but I can't imagine they'd have a problem with it.
[She smiles then again, clearly very fond of her crew.]
[Beverly sets down her beaker with a small sigh. She gets it, she really does. After all, she did the same thing when she first came. Hell, she's doing it now, throwing herself into discovering a cure so she doesn't have to think about the guilt.
She turns back to Julian and tries to catch his eye, tries to force him to look at her.]
You're right that dwelling on our situation doesn't do anybody any good, least of all ourselves, but ignoring your feelings won't either. Atroma can and will use your emotions against you. I've learned that first hand.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He steps in and hugs her, a little shaky and working very hard to not cling, not squeeze hard, just a brief, firm hug that undoes a couple of the knots in his spine and relaxes him into it.
Then he steps back. He's very aware of not making her feel uncomfortable.]
Thank you. It... means a lot.
no subject
Of course. Whatever I can do to help... don't ever hesitate to ask, alright? I'm here for you.
no subject
[He ducks his head, his arms folding back over his chest protectively.]
Klingons, Romulans and the most evil Cardassian to ever plague the sector don't make for the most cheerful company in a cell. Anyway, enough about that, it's good to see you again, however brief the last time.
no subject
It's good to see you too.
[She lets out a long breath.]
Really good. I've been here for almost ... four months now and I was beginning to think I wouldn't ever see anyone else from home.
no subject
You sound like you needed the hug as much as I did. At least I was surrounded by familiar faces and species.
Four months. That's a long time. I might not be from your ship, but at least, I know what 'Prime Directive' means, even if these reality show people don't seem to.
no subject
[She desperately wants to talk to him about recent events, about the guilt, but she also doesn't want to burden him with so much when he just got here.]
no subject
[He turns serious, attention focusing.] How can I help?
no subject
I'm sure you've noticed by now the large ship we've been orbiting. It was sending out a distress signal, which we received about a week ago, and found the ship overrun by what we thought at the time was an infestation of large insects. It turns out they were the ones who sent the signal and they've been infected by some sort of fungus that has interfered with their normal neural patterns. They don't respond to any attempts at communication and have become hyper-aggressive, with roaming bands throughout the ship who will attack on sight. Fortunately, the fungus only seems to affect insectoids but...
[Pausing, she tries to not let her voice crack as she continues.]
Before we knew about all this... I... killed many of them. I can't stop thinking if I had just seen the signs earlier, if we could have developed some sort of sedative, given them some time until we could find a cure but now... I don't know that I will be able to develop one before they're wiped out, either by the fungus or our fellow fleet members.
no subject
It's not your fault, doctor Crusher. Beverly. Fungal parasites are notoriously difficult to identify even in familiar species, let alone as part of a First Contact. This isn't your fault, and while I can't absolve you of the guilt, I can tell you that I probably wouldn't have done anything different from what you did.
And now we know, we can try and help. Containment, so that the infection doesn't get off the ship, and start developing an effective anti-fungal but- it's rare to be able to save any organism in the advanced stages of a parasitic infection, especially in the neural systems. But we can still try.
[We, because he sure as hell wasn't walking away from this.]
Let me see your data. I might not have a medical implant, but I'm still a doctor and Starfleet.
no subject
The people here... we can't expect them to react to a situation the same way we would. We've been pulled from all sorts of different universes and we're only a fleet in the sense that we are a group of ships who are traveling together. Even then it's by force: where the Marsiva goes, we go. There is little to no coordination between ships. I'm fortunate in that my crew works together well but ... containment is simply out of the question. People are even talking about refurbishing the ship and taking it with us. Convincing them not to do that will be hard enough, much less getting them to stay off of the ship altogether.
No, whatever we do, we'll have to do without expecting much support from the rest of the fleet. Or most of it anyway. My crew and several friends on other ships I'm sure will be willing to help.
[They reach the sickbay of the Blue Fish and she steps in. Though the room is very organized and clean, the evidence of her work can be seen everywhere: fungal samples in stacked petri dishes by the microscope, bottles of various chemicals, scribbled notes tacked to the wall, and carefully labeled insectoid body parts (courtesy of Hawke) floating in formaldehyde.
The first thing she picks up is her tricorder, which she hands to Bashir.]
Most of my raw data is on here. I haven't had the time to transfer it to the ship's computers yet.
no subject
[He takes a breath to stop himself getting more worked up and starts looking through her samples, smiling and actually kissing the tricorder.]
Familiar medical technology, I've missed you so much.
As I was saying, cordyceps on Earth control the minds of insects and arachnids, or rather, control the neural system to force them to an advantageous point before the fungal bloom manifests, to maximise spore dispersal. We should witness some kind of similar behaviour in these, or possibly be able to find an infection source from a body which has already bloomed...
If it's already controlling their actions, it's thoroughly integrated into the neural system. Any fungicide treatment is going to need to be delivered fairly directly. Hypospray, whatever similar delivery system they have, I can't seem anything inhaled working, not fast enough to be effective...
[He's used to talking to himself. His medical team is fairly limited most of the time.]
no subject
Julian. I've already taken all of that into account.
[Head of Starfleet Medical, remember?]
I have developed a few fungicides that have so far proved promising, at least on spores in the lab. However, as you say, the delivery is the problem. We have traditional needles, but I'm not certain that will work, seeing as their circulatory system is very different from any I've encountered. I'm hoping that with your engineering augment plus your knowledge of our medical technology that you might be able to design a better system of delivery.
no subject
Yes, yes, of course you have.
I... might be able to. I really need to see a fairly intact body. I know there's data, but I find it easier to think with the actual evidence in front of me. Namely, if they have a typically insectoid respiratory system. I don't see how they could, at this size, but if they do, then something airborne is probably the best chance.
no subject
[First putting on a pair of gloves, she crosses over to a large, rectangular container that she's managed to make into a makeshift freezer, with some help from stolen kitchen equipment. Opening the top, she reaches down and comes back up with one of the bodies she and Allen brought back from the ship. A couple of legs are missing, but otherwise, it's in good shape. She hauls it up onto the lab table, then looks back at Julian.]
I've already performed an autopsy on one of them - that record is actually on the ship's computers - but I welcome a second opinion.
no subject
It's fascinating, no doubt, but he focuses and starts looking for the normal things that are relevant. Basic systems, external openings into the body, mouth, pores, slowly going over it.]
I'm still inclined to think airborne, some kind of spray, maybe... You know, their ship should have medical records of some kind. There has to be a medbay on board.
no subject
[She watches him work for a moment or two more, then adds:]
Even if... even if we can't save this crew, I want to be able to send their people something, anything that might help them prevent this from happening again. [She shudders.] I know it's different, but the way they were acting on that ship... it reminds me too much of the Borg.
no subject
[He pauses, not looking at the body or her, just somewhere else for a moment.]
I never encountered the Borg. I consider myself very lucky for that. But yes, even if we can't save this crew, if we can crack a chemical treatment for stopping it before it reaches this stage, we can leave that for them.
no subject
Let's hope you never do.
[Taking a deep breath, she turns away and starts busying herself with various tasks about the lab, picking up what she had been doing before Julian called, which was namely testing out batches of fungicides she's developed. For a long time, she's quiet, absorbed in her work and her own thoughts, but eventually she does speak again.]
Your ship. Are you settling in alright?
no subject
Hm? Oh. Yes. I suppose so.
[He sort of... came straight here. So that counts as sort of, right?]
no subject
[She smiles then again, clearly very fond of her crew.]
I've been very lucky, having them here.
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I came straight here. I didn't really... have a chance to meet anyone. I wanted to get straight to work here.
[He wanted to find a familiar face, familiar words and understanding.]
no subject
[Besides, you know, Garak]
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[He's always coped by pushing his mind.]
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She turns back to Julian and tries to catch his eye, tries to force him to look at her.]
You're right that dwelling on our situation doesn't do anybody any good, least of all ourselves, but ignoring your feelings won't either. Atroma can and will use your emotions against you. I've learned that first hand.
no subject
He looks up, looking young and open for a moment before he closes down, still smiling slightly and relaxed but his eyes are no longer soft.]
I'm from an English family. Stiff upper lip has been bred into us for hundreds of years.
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