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* mrht Heis'he ehl'ein qiuu * --Rihannsu Proverb *<br>
* mrht Heis'he ehl'ein qiuu * --Rihannsu Proverb *<br>
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<nowiki>***************************************************************************</nowiki><br>
<h3 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">USS FEYNMAN: Charcoal Man</h3>
<h4 style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','Arial'; color: royalblue; font-weight: bold;">by
Kevin Thigpen 8-21-1997</h4>
[NRPG: With title, no disrespect intended towards burn-victims.]
Stardate: 90821.2331<br>
Scene: Bridge--->sickbay<br>
MD: [NRPG: Not too sure about the MD. None on Jason's last post, and the
others have gone to the digital afterlife :).]
The FEYNMAN eased into place to the port side of the DEFENDER as the last
of the enemy fighters fled the immediate area of space or were mopped up
by the remaining Star Fleet fighters.
Zane glanced around his somewhat damaged bridge. One of the science
consoles aft had taken a beating and showed some severe charring as a
result. Other than the that, the only evidence on the bridge that a
battle had just taken place were the sharp, alert looks the bridge crew
possessed.
Koreth was already in the turbolift heading to 'his' engineering section
to effect what repairs he and his team of miracle workers could. J.C.
remained standing solidly at his station, not even the slightest hint of
anxiety present on his face. Maril looked just as impassive in his seat
to Zane's right.
The faces of Krysa and Jerran were obscured as they focused on the main
viewscreen communicating with the DEFENDER and various other fighter
squadrons.
The ship's counselor, Loren Landers, was doing some one-way communication
of his own. Calming his mind, he evicted the tremendous tension of the
crew from his own mind. Unlike Vulcans, Betazoids, lacking sheer
telepathic power, made up for this shortcoming with their range. Right
now, the tense feelings and pent up anxiety of the entire crew was
crashing down on Loren's mind.
Training prevented him from succumbing to the debilitating effects of
these emotions.
"Captain, permission to head to sickbay. I'd like to see if there's
anything I can do with the captured enemy pilot," quietly asked Loren.
Zane shifted slightly, taking note of the counselor's quiet tone. He knew
of the hardships endured by many strong Betazoid telepaths when the
feelings of those around them were peaking. Zane could imagine that what
Loren was enduring now wasn't pleasant, but then again there was
absolutely nothing pleasant about what had just transpired. Nodding, he
gave his silent assent.
[SNIP]
Loren stepped gingerly in sickbay, rubbing his temples. Straightening
himself physically and mentally, he moved into the main sickbay area. No
sense in presenting himself as another possible patient for Mary. She and
her staff already had their hands full as it was. He wasn't about to give
them more to do.
Sickbay was more of a triage center than a real sickbay. Injured bodies
covered all of the available bio-beds. In a glance, Loren took note of
those bodies with sheets covering them from head to toe.
"Hand me that dermal regenerator!"
"Doctor! Over here!"
"Give him this and move him over there."
Quiet moans of pain punctuated the hurried voices of the medical staff,
who were doing an admirable job in the face of tremendous difficulty.
Flashes of green moved from bio-bed to floor to corner, wherever lay a
patient a green form hovered over it for a few minutes before moving on to
another. Those in pain received a quick hypospray before bliss took them
off to the painless land of unconsciousness.
"I'm a little busy right now counselor..." began Mary as she moved to a
patient next to the door through which Loren had entered.
"I know...I just want to see the pilot that was captured."
"In a moment," Mary pressed the hypo to the groaning man's neck after
determining that his wounds were not life-threatening. "Damn," she
muttered as the hypo sputtered, notifying it's user that it was completely
empty. "Dr. Scully! Another sedative over here!"
No answer, as Scully was busy with patients of her own. Loren leaned down
to the man propped against the bulkhead, next to Mary. For half-a-second
he caught a whiff of her perfume. Funny, he'd never noticed it before,
but he put these thoughts aside as he smoothed the man's hair, trying to
impart some of the calm in his mind to ease the man's suffering.
Less than half a minute passed before the man's groans became mere
whimpers. "Can I see the pilot now?" queried Loren to an on-looking Mary.
"He's over there," gestured Mary to the far corner of sickbay, before
moving on to other injured parties.
Lithely, Loren moved among the med staff and injured approaching the
blackened body that was the enemy.
There was no way to even visually identify the man's race the dermal
damage was so bad. Quietly, Loren stepped up the man, looking carefully
over the damaged flesh that was his face.
Calming his own mind some more, he reached out, hoping to catch a whisp of
something that floated free of the man's mind. Just as quickly, he felt
the nothingness that comes from a species whose minds are closed to
telepathic contact. But somehow, this closedness was nothing like the
Ferengi, a race whose brain structure prohibited telepathy. This
'closedness' seemed almost artificial.
Loren would have to talk to someone who was far more proficient at dealing
with mental blockages than he, a Vulcan, or half-Vulcan even. Loren
reached to tap his comm-badge, just as blackened hand grasped his own.
Nearly jumping onto the adjacent bio-bed, Loren instinctively tried to
twist his wrist away from the charred man. No avail, as the man's grip
was tremendous, even in his condition.
A wicked smile played across his flaky lips, as he muttered, "No
use...we've won." A slight, weak laughter followed that stood Loren's
hairs on end.
Success! Loren twisted his wrist free leaving the man's hand hanging
limply at his side. Taking a few steps back, Loren moved away from the
horrible visage of the pilot.
"Counselor?" spoke Scully whom Loren had just nearly run into in his haste
to back away from the enemy pilot. Immediately, she caught the direction
of Loren's gaze before he could reply. "He'll be up and about in no time.
We just haven't had time to run the regenerators over him. Right now,
he's in no harm. Furthermore, he can't get far with the force field we've
thrown over him."
Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Loren nodded. "Thanks
Dr. Scully."
"No problem," she added winking an eye as she glanced from him to Mary.
Loren nearly opened his mouth, but she was off before any words could come
to mind. Instead, he left sickbay for the bridge to report, in person,
what had been passed along to him about the enemy pilot's condition as
well as his own encounter.
Respectfully submitted,<br>
Kevin Thigpen<br>
Lt(jg) Loren Landers<br>
USS FEYNMAN CNS<br>
[NRPG: Just a little something to move us along a very teensy weeny bit
:). Also, I was just going through my files (cleaning up my account
actually) and I realized that Loren never finished the BrOT tests. I know
we got busy towards the end, but I was wondering: Are we going to assume
that he passed or do we have him finish up the last parts now that we are
back at base?]
<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>
"Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so each small<br>
piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry."<br>
---Richard Feynman<br>
Is there evil in the universe?<br>
---Anonymous<br>
<nowiki>***********************************************************************</nowiki><br>
MDailey
5,451

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