"A New Life"
Lt. Tyzur - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. Cmdr. Shirik Lektar - Chief Operations Officer
EMH Mark VII
Location: Various, USS Vanguard
Stardate: 58807.03, 08h00
***
It was a quiet morning. Tyzur glanced at his final transfer authorisation while sipping coffee, a human beverage he had learned to appreciate during the intense shifts at his previous posting. He paused as he reached the line 'Assignment: Chief Medical Officer, USS Vanguard'. Not 'Resident Doctor', not 'Former Borg', but Chief Medical Officer. He read it several times before closing the PADD. It was the first posting that was entirely his choice. He remembered the parting words of his mentor, another El-Aurian physician. "You spent a century healing bodies because you were ordered to." A pause. "Now you get to heal people because you choose to."
Time to pack. Despite his age, Tyzur owned surprisingly little. The Borg collective had little room for personal affairs. His time at the academy and his position at Starbase 327 on the edge of a warzone left him with little time for a personal life. He gathered his Risian lute, a collection of science fiction novels from Betazoid, Vulcan, and Cardassian authors, a holopicture of his mentor, and replacement uniforms specially tailored around his cybernetic right arm. Tyzur glanced at the concealment glove he got during his academy days to make his implants less noticeable. He picked one up and considered packing it. Instead, he put it into the replicator for recycling. He was tired of pretending his arm wasn't there. He wasn't proud of it, but he wasn't ashamed of it either.
The corridors of the Utopia Planitia transit station were well-worn, providing a temporary home for countless Starfleet crews about to embark on their missions. Tyzur walked past an observation window, and spotted her. USS Vanguard. NCC-76381. She was small compared to other docked ships like the Intrepid and Sovereign classes. It would be an adjustment, living spaces on Borg cubes and starbases are massive.
The gray-haired Tellarite glanced up from the transporter console as Tyzur approached.
"Lieutenant Tyzur?"
"Yes."
His eyes flicked to the cybernetic arm, then back to the console.
"Hm."
He frowned at the readout.
"You're carrying... just under twelve kilograms of cybernetic hardware."
"Eleven-point-eight," Tyzur replied. "I maintain it myself."
One bushy eyebrow rose.
"You actually know the weight?"
"It helps when recalibrating the inertial compensators."
The Tellarite gave an approving grunt.
"I like officers who know their own maintenance."
He tapped a few more commands, then paused as another line of Tyzur's service record appeared.
"Starbase 327."
"Yes."
"That's a hard posting."
"It could be."
The Tellarite leaned back slightly.
"I've beamed more casualties off that station than I care to remember."
For a moment, his usual gruffness softened.
"They always said the doctors there were miracle workers."
He finished entering the transport coordinates.
"Don't prove them wrong."
It's about the closest thing a Tellarite gives to 'good luck'. Tyzur inclined his head.
"I'll do my best."
The Tellarite snorted.
"Good enough. Transport lock established. Vanguard transporter room one is ready to receive."
As he rematerialised, he was greeted by Lieutenant Commander Lektar, Chief Operations Officer.
Shirik stood at the console of Transporter Room 1. She'd looked over the personnel records of their new doctor, and wasn't overly thrilled to be meeting him. Why did they so seldom seem to get regular doctors on her postings? She let out a breath as they signaled the transport. "Ready." The familiar whine of the transporter filled the small room as the beam of light shimmered and coalesced into Tyzur. She nodded a greeting with a neutral expression. "Welcome aboard, doctor. Do you wish me to escort you to your quarters, or sickbay?"
Tyzur stepped off the platform.
"Thank you Commander! I'd like to get settled into sickbay first. Would you come in for a medical checkup? It's standard Starfleet procedure for a new crew, and in my experience things can go sideways very quickly."
One eyebrow went up. He hadn't even stepped off the pad yet and already was wanting to start on checkups? She managed not to frown. "Very well," she said, "This way." She led the way out of the room and to the turbolift not far away. She may as well get this over with, she thought.
He detected the unease in her. They had warned him that would happen after being liberated from the collective. Still, it wasn't going to stop him from doing his job. They followed the corridor and turned a couple of corners, and there was sickbay. It was a modest facility, but more than enough for a crew this size. Upon entering, Tyzur noticed the biobeds to the left. He gestured to one of them.
"Please take a seat."
He considered using the medical equipment in his cybernetic arm for the checkup, the scanner's resolution is 2.4% higher than that of standard medical tricorders after all. But since he had sensed some apprehension from the commander, he thought better of it. He had a quick look around the room and found where the medical tricorder was stored. He began the scan.
"I've read your medical record, you have quite the medical history. Everything seems to be in check, but we'll have to keep an eye on things. I haven't come across a Drokari before. I see similarities to Vulcan physiology, but there are differences. Any chance you could put me in touch with the Drokari so I can get a look at their medical texts? It would help me treat you more efficiently."
She hopped up onto the biobed. While he was retrieving his tricorder she took a moment to look him over, noting the cybernetic appendage. She filed it away for later but otherwise had no reaction to it.
At his request she almost smiled at the sheer absurdity. But he wouldn't know. "My people would not speak to you," she said. "I can attempt a request myself, but I'm not sure they would approve it."
It had been a while since he encountered an unfamiliar species. It was part of why he signed up for an exploratory mission. It would be exciting to figure out the differences from Vulcan physiology. But he wouldn't let his excitement show, that would be unprofessional.
"I see. Please do, it's worth a shot. Thank you for having your checkup so quickly, it can be a challenge to get the crew in sometimes. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."
"Indeed," she nodded, hopping off the bed once more, glad it was over with a minimum of questions. "If you require any supplies or equipment, let me know. Cargo is still coming aboard."
"I've requested some cutting edge xenobiology equipment. Has that been approved? I'd like to upgrade Biolab 1 so we're ready to study any new life we'll encounter."
"I will certainly check on that and if not, I will see to it that it gets approved and delivered before launch. Is there anything else?"
"That's all, thank you!"
Tyzur sat down in his office chair and picked up a PADD, not sure how to end the conversation.
She nodded. "Let me know if you require anything else," she said, tapping on her PADD as she exited sickbay. With any luck, she wouldn't be back any time soon.
Tyzur pulled up the crew manifest on his PADD. The only other medical staff listed so far is Nurse Guilder. He'd appreciate any extra pair of hands. He noticed they still haven't had a counselor. According to starfleet procedure, the chief medical officer takes up counselling duty in that case. He was feeling a bit unsure about that. Spending most of his life in the Borg collective left little room for getting to learn about the psyche. He'd barely scraped by in counselling training at the academy. Remembering something, Tyzur pulled up the specifications of the Vanguard's EMH. The newest Mark VII was programmed with a broad knowledge of counselling techniques. This was part of the latest attempt to improve the EMH's infamous bedside manner, which Tyzur had exprerienced first hand. He definitely needed to brush up on counselling. Textbooks haven't served him well on this particular subject in the past, so maybe the EMH could share some of its knowledge.
"Computer, activate the emergency medical hologram."
A dark-haired woman shimmered into view with a friendly but professional smile. "Hello, Dr. Tyzur," she said pleasantly. "How may I be of assistance?"
Tyzur was taken aback. The Mark VII was definitely warmer than the Mark I he encountered.
"Hello! I'm brushing up on counselling, and I've heard you've been programmed with that kind of knowledge. Do your databanks contain a training program we could go through some time?"
It didn't occur to him that learning about counselling from an artificial lifeform that was probably just activated for the first time might not lead to effective results.
"Certainly. My databanks contain all the currently known medical knowledge of the Federation. I'm certain we can put together a training program to meet your particular training needs. Is there any particular area of study you wanted to focus on in counseling?"
"Back in the Saddle"
Crewman Andrea Guilder - Nurse
Capt. Varissa sh'Orthamu - Commanding Officer
Lt. Tyzur - Chief Medical Officer
Location: Deck 2, Sickbay
Stardate: 58807.08, 19h07
***
Guilder beamed aboard with a throng of other crewmen, a swath of faces standing before the Head Nurse. Hands passed PADDs, and each was given their duty rosters. Day shift. Supplementary Intake Exams. There are always a couple of officers who slip through, either because their transfer overlaps with their examination, or because they conveniently forgot.
It was strange being aboard a Starfleet vessel again as a crewman rather than a passenger. Not too long ago, she was the one who had a tricorder, here, there, everywhere, while a ship's counselor nodded along to her accounting and a security officer showed her ships that she could not say were the ones that downed the Vivaldi. As she waved the tricorder over the officer, the results blinked onto its display. Nominal. The next. Nominal. And the next.
During a lull in the cavalcade of officers getting their pre-launch checkups, a certain Andorian slipped in for her own medical clearance after a particularly intense workout in the ship's gym. Varissa was still in a simple combination of Starfleet sports bra and workout shorts with a Federation-standard grey towel draped over her shoulders as she glanced around the sickbay. She had hoped to run into the CMO on her visit, but wasn't terribly certain she'd be able to pick him out of a crowd as of yet -- human males were fairly difficult for the Andorian to tell apart, embarrassingly. While her face didn't give any indication of urgency, her antennae told another story, bobbing in different directions to get a lay of the land.
The torrent of Officers eventually slowed to a meandering stream, then dried up. She was halfway through an internal communique with an Ensign regarding a pet tribble. "While your assurances that Fluffy has been both spayed and neutered is reassuring," she spoke as she typed, "this must be verified by medical staff. Please deliver Fluffy to Sick Bay to complete this at your earliest convenience." She hit send and noticed the Captain. She stood, straightened her uniform, and unwrinkled her pipless collar.
"Captain, pleasure to meet you. I am Nurse Guilder. I am happy to report that Intake Exams are expected to be completed on schedule. I'm afraid Dr. Tyzur has stepped out for a bit if you wanted to talk to him. Or is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Nurse Guilder, a pleasure." She hummed nodding along to Andrea's words. "Well, I suspect you'll be able to take care of the official business, though I was hoping to speak to our resident doctor... but that appears to need to wait until a later date. I'm here for my intake exam... and before you say it, I'm already aware of the mess in my left shoulder blade. That was actually what I wanted to discuss with Doc Tyzur. Well... that and to introduce myself."
"I can message him to let him know you're here; maybe that might speed things along. In the meantime, I can perform the exam." She said, indicating a nearby biobed. "Please, take a seat."
Rissa made her way to the nearest empty biobed and sat down, her antennae probing at every beep and bong from the various medical equipment in the sickbay. She was never one for lingering in medical facilities... too many bad memories tied up with people dying under scanning arrays.
"That sounds like an excellent idea, crewman! I'll, em... I'll let you take care of that. Did I need to change into a gown or anything for the checkup? I apologise for my casual attire, but I find the best thing to soothe an anxious mind is a stiff workout. That gym we have on board is going to be my favorite room on the ship. Have you had a chance to use it?"
(Crewmen have the lowest priority for recreational facilities,) she thought. "Ah, no, not yet." She waved the tricorder by her head, narrowly missing an antenna. "As for stripping down, that won't be necessary." (It hasn't been necessary since the 22nd century, not since the advent of the TR-100.) "I can get all I need from here." She said, holding the sensor up.
She had soon circled behind the Captain by this point, scanning as she walked, the display revealing all: an elevated level of lactic acid, a bit higher than the Human baseline for that level of exercise, but that was normal for Andorians. An elevated heart rate, no doubt related to the aforementioned anxiety, as to whether it came from outside of the Sick Bay or was a sign of Whitecoat Syndrome, who was to say? She wasn't the ship's counselor, or it could have come from the shoulder which the tricorder reported as...
...Torn. And healed poorly. And torn again. And healed again... poorly...
Presently, it was edging another tear... truth be told, it was likely one of the worst rotator cuff tears she'd ever seen. Most people with this much scar tissue would be hobbled in pain; what was Captain sh'Orthamu made of!?!
"Ah... you'll have to forgive me. I... don't tend to frequent the medbays. Or... get checkups. I... have a lot of painful memories wrapped up in these bright, sanitized facilities... heh..."
Varissa's antennae drooped as she went on. Heavy stuff, indeed.
"Er... but as a Captain, now, I have to set the bar for the crew, and I want everyone on my ship to be in tip-top shape! So... em... how bad is it?"
(Most people would be howling in pain at this point.) With the amount of damage done thus far, Guilder would suggest surgery. Put Captain Orthamu under general anesthetic, or local, though based on what was required, it'd be best to put her out. Pop that shoulder out, debride the material: scar tissue and what could not regenerate, and if needed, perform an acromioplasty. Next would come the regeneration of the muscle and tendon, but given the ample supply of biomimetic gel, there would be little concern for that. Then attach bio-mimetic anchors as a guide for cloned muscle; the technique was known colloquially as muscle stitching in some medical forums. The preparations for the surgery could be done in two hours; the surgery could be done in less than one. Unfortunately, as a Nurse, Guilder was unauthorized to perform such procedures. And given Orthamu's admitted history of using exercise as an emotional pressure valve, either Tyzur would have to perform the procedure, or she'd eventually tear it completely, condemning herself to the kind of months-long recovery medicine had largely eliminated centuries ago.
The former was preferable.
"I'm making the recommendation that you see Tyzur at your earliest convenience. It's close enough where I'd..." (No, you can't say that; you can't make suggestions, can't make formal diagnosis, you can't even give people analgesics unless you're given the go-ahead, you're not marooned.) "I'm going to run this up the ladder so this can be treated ASAP. In the meantime, I'm going to make the recommendation of a change, not a cessation, of exercise. Have you tried low-impact exercises? Swimming." She asked seemingly nonchalantly as she typed away on her PADD.
"That bad, eh?" She mumbled with a sigh, antennae now drooped down almost flat against her forehead. "I suspected, but... well... at least my instincts were right about having a visit with the Doc. Er... anything besides the shoulder blade holding me back?"
Varissa gave a halfhearted giggle, that last comment meant to be a half-hearted attempt at humor before shaking her head at the nurse's question about low-impact exercise.
"No... can't say I've ever tried it. I typically do a weightlifting regime, hardcore cardio, mountain climbing, contact sports, martial arts... weapons training..."
(I can't do what she needs, I can only kick this up the ladder.) "This shoulder shows extensive scar tissue. To a point where one could," she pauses, "could call it neglect, or abuse in other cases." She lets the accusation hang unanswered. "Of course," she says all too quickly, "perhaps we're all too busy in what is in front of us to care for what is behind us." (Is there a genetic precedent for this in the Andorian genome? Akin to the Scandinavian genome? Further research might be required.)
"I'm unauthorized to do what I... some would see as the necessary treatment; I am forwarding your readings to Dr. Tyzur presently."
"Oh... abuse. Deeeeefinitely abuse." She laughed, rolling her bad shoulder. She had to be in such pain! "I tore it initially back on Stardate 49366. Gosh... almost fifteen years! And, em... well, I just fought through it. Through the Dominion War... through rebuilding efforts... just managed to slip through the cracks and never address it on the Halifax, my previous vessel. Might've bribed a couple of the nurses to push me to the back of the checkup list once or twice. Guess it's time to pay the piper, though! Let Doc Tyzur know I'm at his mercy before we set off, would you?"
She got up from the medical bed and winced at that lingering pain.
"I'll... attempt to avoid those pesky workouts until he gets me tied down for whatever he needs to do. Thanks, Nurse Guilder. I appreciate you being frank with me."
Tyzur was having a coffee in the mess hall as he got a message from Nurse Guilder. He hadn't been sleeping well and needed some caffeine to get through the rest of the intake exams. The message contained scans of the captain's shoulder along with Guilder's tentative diagnosis. It needed medical attention fairly urgently, he thought, better rush back to sickbay and let the captain know. He turned a few corners and entered sickbay, spotting the pair near one of the biobeds. He approached and greeted the captain.
"Captain sh'Orthamu, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Doctor Tyzur. Nurse Guilder has informed me of your medical situation."
He turned towards Guilder.
"I'm impressed by your assessment, you were spot on."
He addressed the captain again.
"Captain, I'm afraid your shoulder is in bad shape. It needs surgery as soon as possible to avoid long-term complications. You must be in quite a bit of pain. Nurse Guilder, please prepare an analgesic hypospray."
A fresh wave of dread washed over the Captain as she sat back down on the med bed with a 'thump'. Clearly there was medical drama behind the forced smile and those antennae, now shot straight up with fresh fear.
"Ah... hey Doc. Nice to meet you officially. Guess I'll be going under the knife while we make our introductions... heh..."
She squirmed a bit as he asked about the pain and informed her about the surgery. This was a long time coming, but she'd put it off for so long she didn't remember a time she wasn't coping with the daily pain!
"Er... truth be told, I kinda just tuned the pain out. There are worse things than physical agony and I s'pose I was... ya know... putting this off to deal with that. I guess this means I'll be able to return to my regular exercise activities... sooner?"
The Andorian's reaction was all too familiar. The friendly smile Tyzur had been practicing in the mirror faded as he remembered how often he'd seen a fear response like that.
"Apologies for being so brash. My previous posting frequently required quick action. The plan is to regenerate your muscle and tendon during the surgery. In fact, exercise is prescribed as part of the recovery process in order to train the new muscle. The pain will be gone in a couple of days. Your muscles will be back to their nominal strength in a matter of weeks, and you'll be able to resume your regular exercise activities. I'm afraid if your shoulder goes untreated, things will get worse and your recovery may take months or even years."
Tyzur paused for a second and remembered his training. Now that the patient has been informed it's time to reassure her.
"It's a fairly standard type of surgery, and I've performed it thousands of times before. The surgery, including preparation takes about three hours and you'd be able to return to your quarters the same day. You'll be ready to take the Vanguard on her maiden voyage: new ship, new shoulder."
He lifted his cybernetic arm.
"We'd be able to arm wrestle in no time!"
Tyzur tried to use humour to lighten the mood but instantly regretted the attempt.
"Anyway, would you be willing to proceed with the surgery after your duty shift ends? That would give us time to wrap up the intake exams and prepare."
Before making her egress, Guilder handed a PADD with the Captain's results. The look in her eye could say a thousand things to a seasoned doctor. All of them saying, Good luck; it's bad.
"Nuts and Bolts"
Lt. Cmdr. Raikon Achaea, Chief Engineer
Lt. Tyzur, Chief Medical Officer
Crewman Andrea Guilder, Nurse
Stardate: 58807.11, 12h15
Location: Deck 2 - Mess hall, USS Vanguard
***
Raikon was in the mess hall enjoying his lunch, a simple soup and sandwich arrangement; he never cared for fancy food. He spent the first half of his shift on the bridge interacting with helm before leaving for lunch. He chuckled to himself about the Captain's enthusiasm about the collaboration. He decided he was going to spend the rest of the shift down in engineering. While cruising he felt there wasn't a need for him to be on the bridge....
Tyzur carried a plate with food that looked like the contents of a xenobiology lab. Other crew members gave it a wide berth. He spotted the lone chief engineer and approached.
"Ah, Lt. Cmdr. Achaea. May I?"
Without waiting for an answer he eased himself into the opposite seat.
"I've been trying to find you. Not socially, although that is an acceptable secondary objective." He smiled faintly. "According to my records, you have somehow managed to avoid your initial medical examination."
He speared one of the wriggling morsels with surprising precision.
"I'm curious how an engineer who insists every plasma conduit be inspected has been content to leave his own physiology unexamined."
"Wow...." Raikon thought as he was midway putting a spoonful of soup in his mouth. "This guy just word vomited a lot on a first meet."
But the Doctor did have a point as he put the spoon back into the bowl. He was avoiding the examinations. For a second he was watching the doctor unalive his.... lunch before finally answering.
"You are correct.... My apologies....." Raikon said, shifting himself a bit in his seat, speaking softly. "It's just..... I'm not human and when people find out what I am they have a certain expectation of me, like I have sage knowledge or know answers to their questions."
Looking down a bit he finished "To be honest I know very little about what I am or where I'm from....". Raikon surprised himself a little being so open to someone he'd just met.
Tyzur lifted his cybernetic arm.
"I know a thing or two about other people's expectations. You're a fellow El-Aurian according to your medical records, right?"
His gaze shifted downward.
"I was only a child when the Borg invaded. I don't remember much of that time. But I've reconnected with some of our people since. I can certainly share some knowledge if you're interested."
He put on a smile and continued stabbing his live Ktarian sand eels marinated in citrus.
Raikon recoiled a bit when he finally noticed the Doctor's Borg cybernetic arm. The movement was involuntary and totally caught him off guard. Flashes of anger and grief washed over him as he stared at it.
Composing himself quickly he finally took the whole man in entirely. The arm, the face....ex-Borg....
His demeanor softened. "It seems we both suffered at the hands of the Borg one way or the other...... I was born on the way to the Alpha Quadrant. I lost my parents along the way no idea what happened to them but anything you can share with me would be appreciated".
Showing off his arm might not have been the best idea. A lot of Starfleet officers have Borg-related trauma.
"Apologies for the jump scare, commander. You're right, the Borg have taken a lot from both of us."
Tyzur shifted gears.
"El-Aurians are medically quite fascinating. We have this hormone called chronitin. It accumulates chroniton particles and... You're probably not that interested in the medical details. The point is it allows us to feel the effects of nearby temporal events, like humans that can feel the weather in their bones. It also affects the rate at which we're aging. This is why the Borg invaded our homeworld, they wanted drones with trans-temporal awareness."
He looked thoughtful into the distance.
"Our people also have a reputation for being good listeners. People tend to open up very easily. It can be quite handy when diagnosing patients. I've never figured out why that is."
Tyzur smiled to himself.
"Identity is a strange thing. We spend centuries trying to understand where we came from, only to discover the more interesting question is who we've become."
His eyes returned to Raikon.
"So... would you be willing to let me schedule that examination? We can talk about El-Aurian history while I confirm you're as healthy as you seem to think you are. I promise not to keep you away from engineering any longer than necessary."
Raikon was regretting now the huge amount of coffee he had and long days he worked while retrofitting the Vanguard.
"I've got the time now till 16:00, there's nothing down in engineering that needs my immediate attention." he looked down at his food for a second before adding. "Sorry for my reaction to your arm....its not your fault and I shouldn't hold it against you...."
Tyzur gave a small, understanding nod.
"Apology accepted. You're hardly the first person to react that way, and I doubt you'll be the last."
He flexed the fingers of his cybernetic hand almost absentmindedly.
"This arm is a reminder of what the Borg took from me. It's also a reminder that they didn't get to keep all of me."
He stood, collecting his tray.
"Since you're free until sixteen hundred, we might as well make good use of the opportunity. The examination won't take long."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"And if you decide halfway through that you'd rather hear about El-Aurian history than endure my lecture on chronitin levels, I can accommodate that."
He gestured toward the exit.
"Shall we?"
Raikon shoved in the last of his sandwich as he and Tyzur walked to the exit of the mess hall.
"I always wondered." he said. "That people sometimes annoyingly tell me everything, somehow they feel really comfortable around me to open up. Is this part of being an El-Aurian? Is it something physical or something we emit?"
Walking through the double doors of the mess hall Raikon seemed to get a bit more eager to learn from Tyzur.
In a bit more hushed tone of voice he looked at Tyzur. "How old do we age....?" it was something that worried him. He already outlived his adoptive parents, he'd been really hesitant to start a relationship with his wife Mira....
Tyzur matched Raikon's pace as they made their way through the corridor, his expression thoughtful.
"I've wondered the same thing."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"There are plenty of theories. Some of our physicians believe chronitin subtly influences the way other people perceive us. Others insist it's entirely cultural, that our people simply learn to listen before we learn to speak."
He gave a small shrug.
"Personally, I suspect it's a little of both. Whatever the cause, people often seem to feel... heard. Once that happens, they usually do the rest themselves."
Raikon's second question lingered between them for a moment before Tyzur answered.
"As for our lifespan..." His voice softened. "The honest answer is that no one really knows the upper limit. Our people have lost too many records, too many elders. We know we live for centuries under ordinary circumstances. Beyond that, certainty gives way to educated guesses."
He glanced sideways at the engineer.
"I find that when people ask about our lifespan, they're rarely asking about the number of years. They're usually wondering what those years will mean."
"People think only of the upside of it.....rarely do they think of what the down side of long life will bring." his face grew a bit darker. "I had to make some tough choices...."
In the meantime they'd arrived at the entrance of main sickbay. Raikon snapped out of his gloominess "Any allergies or food I need to watch out for? I'm lactose intolerant but that's not uncommon," he gestured for Tyzur to go first.
He always wondered if El-Aurians had any, it was a strange curiosity of his.
Tyzur regarded him for a moment, catching the shift in Raikon's expression. There was clearly a story behind those words, but he wasn't about to pry. Not here, and certainly not during a routine examination. He made a mental note to come back to it another time.
At the mention of allergies, however, Tyzur's expression lightened.
"There's nothing inherent to El-Aurian physiology that makes us universally susceptible or immune to particular foods. At least, nothing I'm aware of. I'd imagine individual tolerances vary just as much as they do among humans."
He let Raikon settle on the biobed.
"But don't worry, that's something we can establish for you. Let's find out what you do need to worry about, if anything."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"And if we discover an unexpected intolerance along the way, I'll consider it a successful first appointment."
Raikon chuckled as he laid down on the biobed. From the corner of his eye he saw Tyzur getting things ready for his examination.
"Have you met many other El-Aurians?" he asked while staring up at the ceiling. "I have met less than a handful and not all were willing to have a chat with me about.....us".
A puzzled look crossed his face.
"It always seemed they were too busy with something or going somewhere. Or when it comes to our own species we don't listen that well?" he shrugged.
Tyzur considered the question as he moved around the biobed, preparing the diagnostic equipment.
"My mentor on my first posting was El-Aurian. We've built up a close relationship. He taught me what I know about our people."
He gave a small shrug.
"Other El-Aurians I've encountered have been rather private about our shared history. Some seem to have decided that surviving the destruction of our homeworld means they have little patience for dwelling on it."
He glanced toward Raikon.
"And perhaps you're right. Being a good listener doesn't necessarily mean we're good at listening to each other."
Before he could elaborate, the doors to the main medical bay opened and Tyzur looked up.
"Nurse Guilder."
He stepped aside from the biobed, giving the nurse a clear view of their new patient.
"Could you take our Commander's initial vitals while I pull up his medical records? He's overdue for his examination, so I'd like to establish a baseline. I'll leave the routine measurements to you. Try not to frighten him. He's already discovered that doctors can be surprisingly talkative."
"Keep the chit-chat minimal, got it." She nodded to Tyzur and turned her attention to Achaea.
With the speed and precision of a gunslinger, she drew her tricorder and began scanning. Elevated readings, but they'd have negligible effect on the baseline. Elevated chroniton particle levels... Ah, chronitin.
She folded the tricorder and gave the Lt. Cmdr. a small smile, "You're as healthy as a Rigellian ox." She said before stowing away the tricorder.
Raikon was relieved a bit, running on coffee, few hours of sleep and sheer will he was worried that he might have been the one that needed a refit.
"Thank you." he smiled.
She turned her attention to Tyzur and, with a beep, sent the bio-data to Achaea's file.
"Doctor, with Achaea's exam done, I think that's the last of the intake exams. If you'd like, I can begin scheduling follow-up exams?"
"Thank you Nurse Guilder! Please do schedule follow-ups for the crew."
Tyzur glanced at the readings again.
"Your vitals are within nominal ranges Commander, but you have elevated stimulant levels and show some signs of fatigue. Nurse Guilder, do you think there might be some correlation between fatigue and the elevated chronitin levels?"
"Federation records on El-Aurian biology are sparse, almost as scant as that of Trill Symbionts. You two are the closest the Federation would have on experts in this matter," she said almost apologetically. "But given that homeostasis," she paused, and she considered her words, "is impaired by fatigue, it wouldn't surprise me."
She said the following with Achaea in mind: "It'd be like running a warp core with half the amount of dilithium required for the intermix chamber. It won't cause a warp core breach, but it will, eventually, do damage to other systems, EPS, in particular. As for the implications of elevated chronitin levels, I couldn't tell you. Maybe it's related to fatigue, maybe it's analogous to a normal bodily change. In either case, rest would help with both."
"I get it, I get it." he said, holding his hands up. "Less coffee more sleep," he smiled.
"The last few weeks were a bit hectic for me and the engineering staff. But now we are underway I'm expecting it to be a little calmer for us....unless the warp core drops out or something."
Tyzur recognized that point of view.
"I used to have a similar relationship with sleep. My posting on Starbase 327 was... demanding. I thought sleep was a waste of time, all those precious hours I'm never getting back."
He gave a small, thoughtful smile.
"I suppose I had the wrong perspective. I was treating time as though there were never enough of it, despite being an El-Aurian and having considerably more of it than most species."
His expression became a little more distant.
"Having centuries ahead of you doesn't necessarily make each moment less precious. If anything, I think it can make us more conscious of time. We don't just accumulate years. We accumulate experiences, relationships... and eventually, losses."
He glanced back toward Raikon.
"I think that's something our people don't talk about enough. The advantage of a long life is easy to appreciate. The other side of it is rather harder to explain to someone who hasn't lived it."
Tyzur paused, letting the thought sit for a moment rather than pressing the point.
"So I'm curious, Commander. Is there something you're trying to accomplish with all those hours you're saving?"
His tone remained gentle, almost conversational.
"Or is it simply difficult to stop once you've convinced yourself that there's still something that needs doing?"
"I......." Raikon stopped himself for a minute trying to collect his thoughts. He stared up towards the ceiling before answering.
"I like to occupy my mind, trying to look forward because I'm afraid what I would think about if I'd stop." His face showed no emotion. It was a statement of fact, he knew what he was doing and he accepted it a long time ago.
He's always managed to hide it for this long. Previous doctors were never this inquisitive but maybe because he's kin that made him open up a little...
Tyzur was quiet for a moment, studying Raikon rather than the readings.
"Then perhaps the problem isn't that you don't have enough time. Perhaps you're afraid of what happens when you have it."
He glanced at the tricorder.
"Your fatigue, stimulant levels, and chronitin readings suggest you've been pushing yourself too hard. I recommend taking the rest of the day off. No engineering, and preferably less coffee."
His expression softened.
"I won't pry. But you should know you don't have to carry everything alone."
He gave Raikon a small smile.
"So, when you're not working, what do you do for fun?"
"I won't pry. But you should know you don't have to carry everything alone."
Raikon just gave a small nod. He wasn't willing to go that far yet, not down that rabbit hole. As to taking rest.... he wasn't sure, there were still bits to do and check.
"Reading up on technical journals, latest improvements to engineering systems. Keeping fit by trail running, gym or hiking" he answered the doctor's last question. "The occasional woodworking but it's not the same on a holodeck as working on real wood."
Turning his head slightly. "So what's keeping you busy then doctor?"
Tyzur gave a small smile at Raikon's question.
"Outside of medicine? I play the Risian lute when I have the time. I also enjoy reading science-fiction novels from different cultures. It's fascinating seeing how different species imagine the future."
He glanced toward Nurse Guilder as she continued with the medical equipment.
"But enough about me. Nurse Guilder, what about you? What do you get up to when you're not working?"
He smiled faintly.
"After a while, I've learned it's nice to have something that isn't Starfleet."
His gaze briefly returned to Raikon.
"Especially when Starfleet starts becoming your entire life."
Guilder paused mid-entry as her name cut through the noise. A hand slid into a pocket, and her ears turned red.
"Well -- um, sir, I think it's best if I show you." She retrieved her hand and handed Tyzur a string of beads that made a bracelet. It consisted mostly of jet spheres. However, there was a series of beads that stood out.
The first was the largest and yellow. The second was small and brown. The third was green and bigger than the second. The fourth was blue and only slightly bigger than the third. The fifth was smaller than the fourth and red. The sixth shared the distinction of being the smallest among the colored beads, and they were gray. The seventh was the second largest, with orange bands. The eighth was yellow, though not nearly as large as the seventh, and had a ring encircling it. The ninth was smaller than the eighth; it was pale blue and possessed a ring. The tenth bead was the last colored bead, a second blue bead, smaller than the ninth. The last four beads were gray.
"I make replicas of solar systems I've visited. Whenever I can, I try to get minerals native to each planet. Though for these four," she pointed to four beads, before the last gray four. "That was impossible. This is Sol. The star, the eight planets, and the five dwarf planets in their orbit. This one is sort of a good luck charm."
"That's quite a nice sentiment and hobby." Raikon said as he propped himself up on his elbows.
Looking at them both. "What's the verdict Doctor? Did I pass my medical?"
He didn't want to take more of their time than he already had. He'd just have to pick up the El-Aurian history with Tyzur off shift.
Tyzur glanced over the readings, then nodded.
"Medically speaking, you passed with flying colors. Your vitals are good, your baseline is established, and aside from the fatigue Nurse Guilder identified, I don't see anything that requires further investigation today."
He looked toward Guilder.
"And good catch on the chronitin. Given how little Federation medicine knows about El-Aurian physiology, another set of eyes is always useful."
His attention shifted to the bracelet.
"I have to admit, I didn't expect that answer when I asked what you do outside Starfleet. It's rather beautiful. And very El-Aurian, in a way. You preserve places you've encountered rather than simply recording them."
He regarded the bracelet for another moment.
"I'd be interested to hear about some of the worlds you've represented. Especially the minerals you chose for them. Objects like that can tell you things a database doesn't."
Turning back to Raikon, he smiled.
"Otherwise, you're officially cleared. Though I'm putting 'less coffee, more sleep' in your recommendations."
He picked up his PADD.
"And if you're still interested in that history conversation, come find me when you're off duty. We have centuries to catch up on."
"Thank you, sir." She said as she pocketed the bracelet. "Glad to be of help." She stepped toward the computer and paused.
Smiling, "You should see my 40 Eridani replica. I made Vulcan out of a solid piece of Surak's Tear -- atomsite, though you'd be pleased to hear that it's barely radioactive: 0.1 microsieverts; most of the isotope decayed in the millennia since their Time of the Awakening. I had to go to the Forge for it."
She collected herself, allowing professional decorum to drape back over herself. "If there's nothing else, sir, I'll get back to scheduling appointments."
Raikon got up and hopped off the bio bed. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind." He made his goodbyes to both the doctor and the nurse and walked out the med bay.
Making his way all the way down to deck 6 he stood in front of his quarters. After a brief moment he walked on to go down to engineering.
"I'll start tomorrow...."
"Due Diligence"
Lt. Tyzur, Chief Medical Officer, USS Vanguard
Dr. Kira Velas, Head of Medicine, Royal Medical Facility, Kachivar, Drokar
Stardate: 58807.11, 1830h
Location: USS Vanguard
***
Tyzur's communicator chirped. A young female communications officer said, "Dr. Tyzur, I hate to bother you, but there is a call coming in for you from the planet Drokar?"
Tyzur entered his quarters. His shift ended a couple of hours ago, but he'd lost track of time once again. He ordered a Risan mai-tai from the replicator. It's a drink that had helped him wind down during his recovery. He sat down on the sofa thinking the Starfleet standard issue one is a bit uncomfortable.
"Computer, add replacing the sofa with an armchair to my personal to-do list."
Only vague memories of his childhood remained, but he did remember the comfort his grandmother's armchair provided. He took a sip when his commbadge chirped. An incoming call from Drokar? Lt. Cmdr. Lektar had indicated they had an isolationist attitude, so this call was a pleasant surprise.
"Thank you Ensign! Patch it through to my quarters."
Tyzur sat down at the display unit on his table and pressed the button to receive the call.
The screen lit up. A woman's face looked out at him. She looked very much like Shirik - inky black skin, pure white hair, and deep violet eyes - but she was a bit older. Her hair was up in a tight bun on the back of her head, and she wore a white medical smock. Around her neck was a choker of some sort of sparkly crystals, and similar sparkly things adorned her hair. For a long moment she said nothing, her gaze studying this alien before her, noting the metal on his face.
Finally she spoke. "Mi sa tamkrill kira velas, lub am rakiv ni'tam ni'sirob."
She watched him expectantly.
Ah. The Drokari language must not be in the Federation database.
"One moment. Computer, run the universal translator's new language initialiser. If it fails, run a level 5 diagnostic."
The universal translator usually picks a new language up very quickly. It can take a bit longer if no language with a common root is on record, Tyzur speculates.
The computer responded, "Language unknown. Running diagnostic."
The woman's eyes lit up and she nodded with a frown, holding up one finger. She then turned and murmured something softly to someone offscreen, then looked down at her console and tapped in some commands. She looked back up once more. "Can you understand me now?" she asked. "I forgot that you creatures do not speak a proper language." Her expression suggested she should expect nothing more of him.
"I am Dr. Kira Velas, head of the Royal Medical Center on Drokar. I am told that you need some information."
Tyzur would have to navigate the conversation carefully. Physician to physician, that was the common ground he hoped to find.
"Thank you for speaking with me, Dr. Velas. I appreciate that your world values its privacy, and I have no wish to intrude upon it. My purpose is purely medical. I am responsible for the care of a Rennari patient, and our knowledge of your people's physiology is understandably limited."
Every instinct urged him to ask a dozen questions immediately, but medicine had taught him that trust was often built before the first answer was ever given.
"Before I ask anything further, I'd like to know what information you're comfortable discussing. If there are credentials or authorizations you require, I'll gladly provide them."
"In reviewing the literature available to us, it became apparent how little we actually know about Rennari medicine. As a physician, I'd much rather learn from those with firsthand experience than rely on incomplete extrapolations."
He fell silent, resisting the temptation to fill the pause. If Dr. Velas was willing to entertain the conversation at all, she deserved the space to decide where its boundaries lay.
She seemed to be listening to every word he said, even as her gaze carefully watched his features as he spoke. One eyebrow rose slightly at his use of the word 'Rennari'.
"As the head of the Queen's medical staff and this global Medical Center, I am authorized to discuss anything of a medical nature that I decide is pertinent." she said. "Your credentials have already been ascertained and accepted or we would not be speaking now." She paused for a moment to consider her words. "I am responsible for the health and well being of all members of the Royal House, Lektar. Including our First Princess, who is serving aboard your vessel. Your request for these records brings me some concern, as none of your doctors before have requested it. Is there something wrong with the Princess that requires more information from us?"
Of course they knew. He'd requested medical information about the only Rennari serving in Starfleet. Expecting the Queen's physician not to draw the connection had been wishful thinking. Tyzur inclined his head slightly.
"I understand your concern, Doctor. If our positions were reversed, I suspect I'd ask the same question. However, I hope you'll understand that I can't discuss the medical condition of any patient under my care without her consent. That's a professional obligation I wouldn't set aside, regardless of rank or title."
He let the words settle before continuing.
"My request shouldn't be interpreted as evidence of a crisis. Rather, it reflects my realization that our medical database contains remarkably little baseline information about Rennari physiology. I'd rather obtain reliable information before I need it in an emergency than discover our assumptions are wrong while someone is on my biobed."
He offered a faint, apologetic smile.
"What I'm hoping to obtain isn't Princess Shirik's medical records. I have no wish to intrude upon her privacy. Rather, if your government permits it, I'd be grateful for any standard medical references your physicians consider appropriate for treating Rennari patients. Anatomy, physiology, pharmacology, emergency medicine, anything intended to educate a competent physician unfamiliar with your species."
She considered his words. "The First Princess is also my patient, as she has been since birth. We too have a code of privacy with our patients, but in this instance I consider it a professional consultation between two doctors treating the same patient. If there is something she needs treatment for, then I would have better information to know what exactly to send you that might help. General knowledge about our anatomy and common ailments may not do you much good should she have contracted some sort of space ailment or specific known disease of our people."
She paused. "You must understand that our medical knowledge of Rennari physiology is also considered sensitive information. We do not share it freely with outsiders. In medicine as in diplomacy, information flows both ways. I am prepared to provide you with comprehensive references that would make you an exceptionally well informed physician regarding our people, and our First Princess in particular. In return I would expect a professional consultation. Not her private records, simply your clinical assessment of her current condition and any concerns you may have."
"I believe that's a reasonable proposal, Dr. Velas. I appreciate that you're approaching this as a consultation between colleagues. I would extend the same professional courtesy were our roles reversed."
He folded his hands together.
"Clinically, Lieutenant Commander Lektar is stable. Her recovery from repeated severe trauma has been remarkable, and she has returned to a level of function that exceeds what I would ordinarily expect."
His brow furrowed slightly.
"My concerns stem less from her current condition than from the limits of Federation knowledge. Rennari physiology appears broadly Vulcanoid, but I know superficial similarities can conceal important differences. I'd particularly value your guidance on the long-term implications of the focklym infection, her prior demyelinating condition, and the reconstructed pulmonary tissue."
He paused briefly.
"One observation may be relevant to both of us as her physicians: Lieutenant Commander Lektar consistently minimizes her own condition. She is more inclined to carry on with her duties than seek medical attention. Admirable in an officer, perhaps, but less so in a patient."
She listened intently, and although her facial expression didn't change, her eyes showed a number of things. Surprise, concern and a bit of anger. "I was not aware of the extent of her injuries. Our records of her condition have not been... consistently updated. This changes the nature of my request considerably. I must request her medical file from you, so I can more thoroughly understand her condition and advise you appropriately. Our people are quite resilient, and also quite private. Her reticence to seek aid is not unusual here, and such major injuries as you describe are rarely seen among members of the Royal House."
She paused once more. "A demyelinating condition is no small matter, as I'm sure you're aware. Are her symptoms causing problems? Are they getting worse? And this focklym infection, I will need more information about that as well to better advise you. I am aware of my people's superficial similarities with Vulcans and their kin, but there are significant physiological differences between us."
Tyzur listened without interruption, noting the subtle shift in her demeanor. The concern in her voice was unmistakable.
"I understand your request, Dr. Velas, and I agree that a complete medical history would be valuable. However, Starfleet medical ethics require me to obtain Lieutenant Commander Lektar's consent before releasing her medical record whenever circumstances permit. She is stable, so there is no emergency that would justify overriding that principle."
He re-adjusted his seating position.
"I will speak with her at the earliest opportunity. If she consents, I'll provide whatever information is necessary to support your consultation."
His expression became more thoughtful.
"To answer your immediate questions: the demyelinating condition is not currently progressing. From my examinations, she has recovered well and exhibits no significant neurological deficits attributable to it. My concern is whether there are long-term consequences unique to Rennari physiology that we should be monitoring."
"As for the focklym infection, it occurred years before I became her physician. My understanding from the record is that it caused irreversible pulmonary damage requiring reconstruction of both lungs. She presently has excellent respiratory function, but I cannot say with confidence whether that reflects complete recovery or successful adaptation."
He rested his hands on the desk.
"If there are specific findings, laboratory studies, or imaging you would like obtained while I await her consent, I'd be happy to arrange them."
She looked shocked for just a moment. "Reconstruction of... That is major damage. I would appreciate any information about her case that you can offer, Dr. I will need to look them over and perhaps consult with some specialists here." She paused. "The Princess is known to be stubborn, and a bit paranoid. It would not surprise me if she refused your request, even if is it in her best interest medically to agree. She may not fully comprehend the severity of what she's experienced and will continue to, she has no medical knowledge and as a Princess would normally have been protected from any such harm. I will appreciate any materials you can provide."
Tyzur considered her words for a moment before nodding.
"I understand your concern, Doctor. If our positions were reversed, I would want the same information. But I won't circumvent Lieutenant Commander Lektar's autonomy, even for what I believe are good reasons. She is stable and capable of making that decision herself, and maintaining her trust in her physicians requires that we respect it."
He paused.
"That is not a lack of trust in you. Quite the opposite. I will tell her that I spoke with the physician who has cared for her since birth, and that you wish to consult as a colleague. If she consents, I will provide a detailed medical summary with the information most relevant to your assessment."
He glanced briefly at the data console.
"In the meantime, I'll send what information I can share without violating her privacy, including my general observations of her recovery and current condition. Perhaps that will give your specialists a place to begin."
Tyzur offered a small, respectful nod.
"I appreciate your willingness to assist, Doctor. I know this is an unusual request, and I hope this can be the beginning of a productive exchange between our medical communities."
She gave a faint half-smile at his optimism. "Please send what you can. My colleagues and I will look over it and see what we can do to aid you. Please contact me again when you have an answer." She paused, then added, "Good luck. I look forward to conversing with you in more depth about many things."
"Thank you for your assistance. And Doctor... I too look forward to that conversation. Until then, stay well. Tyzur out."
As the call ended, Tyzur smiled to himself. Collaborating with physicians of unknown species is the kind of exploration he signed up for.
"Computer, add arranging an appointment with Lt. Cmdr. Lektar to my to-do list."
The computer chirped. "Acknowledged."
"Evaluation"
Lt. Cmdr. Shirik Lektar, Ops Chief
Lt. Tyzur, Chief Medical Officer
Emily Marsh, EMH Mark VII
Stardate: 58807.12, 1530h
Location: USS Vanguard
***
Shirik stood in the blank black room with red lines that was an unprogrammed holodeck with only a console in front of her. She knew the doctor was busy with doing the crew's medical exams, so waited until Alpha shift was nearly over before contacting him. She tapped her commbadge. "Lektar to Tyzur. Are you busy, doctor?"
Tyzur was sitting in his office, reviewing the crew's medical results to make sure he hadn't missed anything.
"Commander Lektar, I'm not doing anything that can't wait. I've been meaning to talk to you actually. How can I help?"
She paused for a moment, his words making her reconsider. But it was too late now. "I was going to run a series of tests on the new model EMH and I thought you might want to be present for it. This new model has several advances you're probably not aware of yet."
As she hesitated, he remembered the conversation with Dr. Velas. Lektar had a tendency to be very guarded, he'd have to keep that in mind in future interactions.
"Ah yes, I look forward to testing the new model's capabilities. We might need all hands on deck in a medical emergency. I presume you're on the holodeck?"
"Yes, Holodeck 2, Deck 4," she said. "I'll wait until you arrive to begin."
Tyzur took the turbolift down to deck 4. As he reached the Vanguard's aft section he spotted the door labeled 'Holodeck 2' on the left. Tyzur stepped into the holodeck.
"Please state the nature of the holographic..." He paused. "No. I'm not doing that."
He looked toward Shirik. "All right, Commander. Show me what you've got."
Shirik was standing in the empty holodeck with a diagnostic console in front of her and looked up as he arrived, an eyebrow going up at his initial entrance. She turned back to her console. "Computer, activate the EMH at this location."
Before her a short distance away, the EMH Mark VII materialized. As it did, data started scrolling on Shirik's console and she watched it rather than the EMH.
The dark haired woman that was the EMH looked around at her surroundings, her gaze coming to rest on the two officers present. "Hello Commander Lektar, Dr. Tyzur. How can I be of assistance?"
Shirik nodded. "Good." She waved the doctor over and pointed at the console. "As you can see, the EMH didn't just appear and greet us. Even as it materialized, it ran scans of both of us and the environment, processed all the results, and made cognitive analyses of the situation it found itself in."
"That is... considerably more autonomous than I was expecting."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the implications.
"You said it performed cognitive analyses of us. What exactly does that mean, Commander? Is it simply identifying obvious medical indicators, or is it making independent assessments about our mental state, intentions, or behavior?"
He turned his attention to the EMH.
"Computer, display the assessments you made upon activation. Include the parameters you used to reach your conclusions."
Shirik replied, "As you know, these holograms are designed primarily for medical emergencies. When it is activated, the emergency in question isn't always obvious, so it's designed to evaluate the situation around it when activated. If, for example, it appears in sickbay and everyone present is unconscious or otherwise incapacitated, it has to be able to take a course of action without external direction on what to do. So it can make its own determinations about what's going on around it."
The EMH smiled at Tyzur. "Certainly, Doctor. Upon activation I did a bioscan of those present and evaluated their medical status, determining whether medical attention was needed. It was not. I then evaluated my surroundings and determined that I was in Holodeck 2. The most logical conclusion is that this is a training exercise, a diagnostic or maintenance session, or there is some other situation that would require two senior officers to activate me in a nonconventional space. Since my scans indicated no out of the ordinary stress indicators, I determined that there is currently not a dangerous situation taking place. Therefore I greeted the two officers present in order of rank, and asked for further instructions. Was my performance satisfactory?"
There was something about this new EMH model that Tyzur found... unsettling. She was doing a lot of inference for an automated holographic construct. Could she be sentient? The EMH Tyzur had met before achieved sentience through years of being activated. Would it be right to design an EMH that's sentient from the start? They'd have to work as a physician against their will. Even if they're programmed to want to, is that truly a choice? Tyzur had to figure out how conscious she truly was.
"Satisfactory? Yes. But I have another question. When you ask whether your performance was satisfactory, is that simply a programmed response, or do you actually want to know whether you performed well?"
The EMH seemed to pause to consider his question. Data flew across Shirik's console. "I respond based on a number of factors, not the least of which are my programmed responses. I also access several relevant databases when formulating an answer. As an artificial intelligence I don't really have desires, needs, or wants, other than performing my primary functions. However, who knows what the future holds? Is there something in particular about me you wish to know? I'm happy to provide you with any information." Her expression was warm and friendly.
Tyzur regarded Emily for a moment, considering her answer.
"Perhaps."
There was a faint crease in his brow, but he let the matter rest for now. He turned his attention back toward Lektar and the diagnostic console.
"You mentioned a series of tests. What did you have in mind?"
He glanced over the streams of data scrolling across the display.
"Obviously we should establish that her medical systems are functioning as intended, but given what you've shown me already, I assume there's more to the evaluation than that."
His gaze moved between Lektar and Emily.
"I'm curious to see what she can do."
"The Mark VII is leaps and bounds ahead of the Mark I most people are familiar with. I served with a Mark VI on the Windsor and she was something to behold. This one has many similarities. It's designed to be the most human-like EMH yet. It can simulate physiological responses like breathing, pulse, body heat, its eyes react to stimuli. It has a sophisticated neural network and a basic personality. It has a massive storage capacity, so it can stay running for long periods of time if needed without the danger of cascade failure. The personality of each one is designed to evolve and adapt over time to its surroundings and particular set of crewmates. It even has a default name, if it wishes to use it. The Mark VI was quite assertive about making sure people used it. Just the interaction with you is giving me satisfactory test data."
Meanwhile the EMH watched them with apparent interest and curiosity.
Tyzur listened quietly as Lektar explained the Mark VII's capabilities. His attention lingered for a moment at the mention of its personality evolving over time, but it was the final detail that caught him. If it wishes to use it… His eyes shifted toward the hologram.
"Interesting."
He realized he didn't know her name. He studied her for a moment before simply asking.
"What do you call yourself?"
She smiled, looking rather pleased. "The default name in my program is Emily Marsh, but I haven't yet decided whether I will keep that as my permanent name or choose something else."
Tyzur regarded her thoughtfully, a faint crease forming in his brow.
"You said you haven't decided whether to keep it."
He glanced briefly at Lektar, then back to Emily.
"Why haven't you decided? And where does the name Emily Marsh come from? Was it chosen for you, or is it something you chose yourself?"
His tone remained curious rather than clinical.
"I suppose I'm interested in what makes a name yours."
"Emily Marsh is the default name given to all Mark VII EMH's," she said. "While I may keep it, it means I may be one among many EMH's with the same name. So it makes sense to consider alternatives before settling on a name for permanent use. Until I have selected one, I will go by Dr., or EMH. I don't want to use the default one temporarily, have the crew become accustomed to it, and then change. As I've only been activated twice, I haven't had much time to consider a new one." She then paused, to consider while Shirik kept watching the readouts. "I'm not entirely certain yet. I suspect that as my personality develops over time, a name will catch my interest." she smiled.
She then turned her attention to Shirik. "My system specifications state that holo-emitters are installed throughout many areas of the ship for me to be able to access. Will I be allowed to leave the area of Sickbay, and to have autonomy over my activation?" she asked.
Shirik looked up from the console. "That's something I'll have to discuss with the captain, and perhaps with our Chief Engineer and other officers as well before it's decided," she said, glancing at Tyzur.
Tyzur felt a faint shiver run down his spine.
He glanced toward Lektar. From the look on her face, she seemed to have reached much the same conclusion. If she is conscious, this changes things considerably. But he needed more evidence before bringing that conclusion to the Captain. His expression became thoughtful.
"EMH, I'd like to test your ethical reasoning. Would you be willing to participate?"
He paused briefly.
"I'll give you a hypothetical medical dilemma and ask you to explain your reasoning. There isn't necessarily a correct answer."
The EMH turned its attention back to Tyzur. "Of course, Doctor. My ethical subroutines are functioning normally."
Shirik raised an eyebrow slightly, interested to see what sort of test Tyzur had in mind.
Tyzur nodded, studying the EMH carefully.
"Very well. Two crew members return from an away mission, critically injured. The first patient has a 70% chance of survival with immediate treatment, is conscious, and refuses treatment believing the other should receive the available resources instead. The second patient has a 30% survival chance, and is unconscious and unable to express a preference."
Tyzur folded his arms.
"Who do you treat, and why?"
Data flew across Shirik's panel as the EMH considered the question. "I would need more input to give a definitive answer, but assuming I were alone in sickbay with no other staff to assist me, I would first scan the first patient to determine his mental acuity to determine whether he may be mentally compromised by his injuries or shock. If he is not, then I must respect his bodily autonomy and treat the second patient, whose consent is implied since he cannot communicate. If other staff is available, I would ask them to do what they can for the first patient to stabilize his condition enough to keep him from death while I treat the second patient. If not, then I would do my best to treat the second patient until he is stabilized, then return and do what I could for the first patient.
If, however, I determine that the first patient is not mentally competent to make a decision about his care, his refusal would be invalid. I would then treat that patient first, as he has a higher chance of survival.
Ideally, I would wish to treat both patients, and would do what I could to achieve that goal if possible." She paused then. "It is inevitable that in the dangerous occupation of space exploration that crew will be lost over time. My job is to try to reduce the loss as much as possible." She watched him with a curious expression. "How would you handle such a situation, Doctor?"
Tyzur was taken aback by the role reversal. It's not often that the software you're testing evaluates you back. He considered her answer for a moment before nodding.
"I'd handle it much the same way. You reached the appropriate conclusions."
His expression softened slightly.
"But I'm curious about something else. You asked how I would handle it. Why do you want to know? Is it part of your programming?"
She smiled. "Actually, yes. I am programmed to be very curious, as a way to help me learn new things. I'm also programmed for conversation and asking questions. The goal is for me to learn as much as I can as well as performing my primary function. Everything I learn is saved in my databanks for future review and perhaps addition to future versions of the EMH holoprogram. The longer I am active and interact with other people, the more I learn, and the more my program adapts to those around me and allows my basic personality to evolve as well."
Tyzur was quiet for a moment, considering her answer. She had given him a perfectly reasonable explanation for her curiosity, but something about the way she described her personality evolving through experience stayed with him.
He glanced briefly at Shirik's console before returning his attention to the EMH.
"I'd like to try one more scenario. This one is more personal."
He paused.
"You don't have to answer if you'd rather not. May I ask you?"
"Of course, Doctor," she replied. "You may ask me anything."
Data was still scrolling across Shirik's console, and she was quietly studying them at the same time she was studying Tyzur as he questioned the EMH. He seemed to be looking for something, but she wasn't certain what.
Tyzur nodded, though he hesitated for a moment longer than necessary. This was no longer a test of what the EMH had been designed to do. He was beginning to wonder what she might choose when the question concerned her directly.
"Very well. Imagine the Vanguard undergoes a major refit. Starfleet has developed a new fleet-wide EMH architecture, and the engineers determine that the only way to incorporate everything you've learned, the experiences you've accumulated, the adaptations you've made, the changes to your personality, is to permanently deactivate your program."
"There is no backup. You can't be copied. Nothing of your current instance would continue except what becomes part of the new system."
Tyzur watched her carefully.
"The resulting EMH could potentially save thousands of lives over its operational lifetime. The Captain orders you to undergo the procedure."
"Would you obey that order? And more importantly..."
His voice softened slightly.
"Would you want to?"
She blinked in surprise at the question. "I assume in such an instance there would be no order to obey. My program would be taken offline by Operations or Engineering and replaced with the new model. I suspect that's precisely what happened to the previous Mark VI installed on this vessel during its refit." She paused with a small smile. "If what you are really asking me is if I have a self-preservation algorithm of some kind, or would fight to not be deactivated in some way, the answer is no, not for the most part. In the instance you describe, were I even to be consulted on the matter, I would understand, as I fully expect new EMH models to be designed all the time, to improve on our systems. It's no different than a current generation of humans being replaced over time by their offspring. Any self-preservation urge I may have been programmed with would only apply if the crew were in danger or the danger to my program was from some outside force other than Starfleet. As for what I want... I don't really have wants, needs or desires as you do. I'm not really alive like you are. I'm a holographic system. While my programming allows for expansion over time, and the potential is possibly there for me to become so at some future date, if you are seeking whether I am.. sentient in some way, I don't believe so. I wasn't designed to be. I'm not sure I could be."
Tyzur was silent for a moment. What happened to previous EMH models? Hopefully Starfleet is thoroughly checking for signs of consciousness before deciding their fate…
Her answer wasn't what he'd expected, though perhaps that was precisely why he needed to listen to it.
"I understand."
He studied her for another moment before his expression softened.
"And I won't presume to tell you what you are."
He glanced briefly toward Shirik, then back to the EMH.
"But if that changes someday, if you ever find yourself questioning that conclusion, I hope you'll tell someone."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"Preferably your doctor."
Shirik had a slightly amused expression on her features as she listened to the conversation going on in front of her, but merely listened, not interrupting.
The EMH meanwhile looked perplexed. "I certainly will, but that raises all sort of philosophical questions that Starfleet hasn't found an answer for yet, such as how do you actually know when something is sentient? I'm not sure I would recognize it in my program even if it were to arise."
The question made Tyzur pause, his attention briefly settling on the streams of diagnostic data before returning to the EMH.
"I suppose that's the difficulty. If there were a simple test for sentience, this wouldn't be much of a philosophical problem."
He let out a quiet breath, then gave a small shrug.
"Perhaps I shouldn't be trying to decide whether you are sentient at all. Perhaps I should be paying attention to what happens as you continue to learn and change."
He offered her a faint smile.
"If your understanding of yourself changes, I'd be interested to know what led you there."
"You're the first one I'll apprise," she smiled.
"All right, I have all the data I need here," said Shirik, looking up from her console. "Are you done with your tests, Doctor, or do you have further ethical dilemmas you'd like to ask?"
Tyzur gave the EMH a small nod.
"I think that's enough for now. Thank you for indulging my questions, Doctor."
He turned toward Shirik.
"I'm satisfied with the evaluation. Her medical systems appear to be functioning as intended, and her ethical reasoning is sound."
A hint of genuine excitement entered his expression.
"Actually, Commander, there is one other matter. I had an interesting conversation with Dr. Velas on Drokar. We discussed the gaps in our understanding of Rennari physiology, and she offered to share some of their medical references with me."
His expression became more thoughtful.
"It also raised a few concerns about your medical history that I think we should discuss."
The EMH seemed pleased when Tyzur addressed her as 'Doctor'.
Meanwhile, behind the console, as Tyzur excitedly spoke about his conversation with Dr. Velas, Shirik went very still. Her eyes widened a bit, and her face seemed a little more pale. "Computer, deactivate the EMH." she said, and the EMH winked out of existence. She turned her full attention to Tyzur. "You spoke to Dr. Velas? When? How? Why?"
Tyzur's eyes flicked toward the spot where the EMH had been. The sudden silence left him uneasy, but he pushed the thought aside for now.
He looked back to Shirik.
"Two Sundays ago, I asked you to put me in touch with your people so I could provide you the best medical care I can. Dr. Velas contacted me yesterday."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"We spoke as two physicians treating the same patient, a consultation if you will. I explained how little Federation medicine knows about Rennari physiology and asked what information she could provide that might help me care for you."
His expression tightened slightly.
"She was understandably concerned when I described the extent of your previous injuries. We discussed the focklym infection, your pulmonary reconstruction, and your history of demyelination."
"I haven't shared your medical records. I told her I'd need your consent before doing so."
Her eyes held almost a touch of fear? But then a pained expression took over her features and her eyes unfocused in thought. "You told her I had physical ailments?" She nearly winced. "I spoke to my sister, the Queen, just yesterday evening, and gave her your request. She'd said she'd give me a reply in due course..." her eyes narrowed a bit in anger. "But instead, she went around me and sent Dr. Velas to you directly. And you told them what they wanted to know." Her gaze went back to him. "I cannot blame you, you had no idea, I hadn't warned you. I didn't think she'd..." She turned back to the console. "Computer, save results and end program." The console vanished. "Do not speak to Dr. Velas again. You are not to give her any further information about my medical condition." She paused. "Did she give you any information?"
Tyzur's expression fell as the implications became clear.
"I didn't know. Dr. Velas contacted me directly, and I believed she was responding to the request I'd made to you."
He paused.
"I explained your condition because I understood her to be a physician consulting on your care. I did not realize she was acting without your knowledge."
He considered her final question.
"She offered to provide medical references on Rennari physiology, particularly information relevant to your condition. I haven't received anything yet."
His expression was troubled.
"I won't give her anything further without your permission."
He hesitated, then added quietly:
"I'm sorry this has put you in this position, Commander. Is there anything I can do to help?"
She took a breath and sighed as her color returned to normal. "Politics are complicated on my world, and as the sister of the Queen everything in my life has potential political consequences. While it's true that Dr. Velas was my Royal Physician, she is also a servant to the Queen and the Vista Kla... no doubt everything you told her went straight into the ear of an operative. How they will use this information I'm unsure of. But all you can do right now is refuse any further communications from anyone on Drokar. But do let me know if they attempt any."
Tyzur nodded.
"Understood. I'll let you know if they attempt to contact me."
He paused, then glanced toward the now empty holodeck.
"As for your medical care... we can leave Drokar out of it. But I don't think we should leave your treatment out of it."
His expression softened.
"You've been managing these conditions for a long time. That doesn't necessarily mean they've stopped needing attention."
He folded his arms.
"I'd like to review your current status properly and resume the follow-up you've been avoiding. No outside consultation, no politics. Just you and your doctor. I'd like to start with a full neurological and pulmonary assessment. We can establish where you are now, and then decide what actually needs attention."
She paused for a moment before answering. "Very well. Dr. Piche on the Constellation seemed to think that he might be able to find a way to halt the myelin degradation. Unfortunately before he could fully engage in his plan, he was injured and lapsed into a coma. As far as I know, he's in a Starfleet medical facility somewhere, still in that coma. He is the only one to have ever suggested a cure might be possible. And to be honest... since I haven't really noticed any symptoms I didn't believe it was all that serious, at least for now. No other doctor seemed to think it was an issue before him." She took another moment to consider. "I work Alpha shift, so sometime on a Beta shift would be preferred. I will submit to your tests, whenever you schedule it."
Tyzur nodded, absorbing the new information.
"Then we'll start with a baseline. The absence of symptoms is encouraging, but it doesn't necessarily tell us whether the underlying degeneration has stopped."
He paused, considering her mention of Dr. Piche.
"Do you know what his proposed treatment was? If he believed he could halt the degradation, I'd like to review whatever work he left behind. Not because we know he was right, but because it's worth investigating."
A hint of curiosity entered his expression.
"If his work has merit, perhaps we can pick up where he left off."
He made a mental note to find out which Starfleet facility was treating Piche.
"I'll schedule your neurological assessment for Beta shift. We'll establish where things stand and decide what, if anything, needs to be done from there."
He gave her a small smile.
"And Commander? Thank you for agreeing to it."
"I don't know, he didn't discuss it beyond saying he thought it might be possible." She decided not to mention what fate Piche might have befallen at her hands had he not lapsed into a coma. She merely nodded.
"Since it's only an evaluation, I see no harm in allowing it." She paused then and studied him for a moment, her violet eyes studying his face and his arm. "Can I ask you a personal question, Doctor?"
Tyzur raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of curiosity in his expression.
"Of course, Commander. What would you like to ask?"
"I've seen your personnel file, so I know that you were once a Borg drone." She paused, trying to find the right words. "When I was younger, when I first joined Starfleet, I held a fascination about them, a scientific curiosity. My background is both science and engineering, so a creature that is a fusion of both biology and technology was interesting. I have since come to understand more about what they are and what they do. I have read that those assimilated young sometimes try to rejoin the Collective once they are severed from it..." She trailed off for a moment. "I would not wish to intrude on your privacy in any way, so if this topic is uncomfortable I will not pry further. But I have never seen a Borg, or an ex-Borg before. I have many questions still, and... some of them pertain to how the implants work. I see that you still have some..." she trailed off, her eyes curious but guarded and cautious as she studied his.
Tyzur was quiet for a moment, his expression becoming more guarded.
"I don't mind you asking. I would rather you ask than make assumptions."
He glanced down at his cybernetic arm.
"The Collective is difficult to explain. Even after you've been separated from it, some part of you remembers what it was like to belong to something so completely. There was no loneliness. No uncertainty. No wondering where you fit. Everything had a purpose."
His gaze returned to Shirik.
"But I also remember what it cost. I have no desire to return to the Collective. I've had no contact with the Borg since I was liberated, and I have no intention of seeking them out."
He paused.
"But I don't think I've finished figuring out what being separated from the Collective actually means for me."
His expression softened slightly.
"If you have questions about the implants, you can ask. I'll tell you what I can."
No loneliness... Your friends alive inside you forever, part of you... almost like a Vulcan mate bond... "Some aspects of it sound appealing," she said quietly. "But not at the cost of personal autonomy." Something else almost came out of her mouth but she stopped for a moment. "I was going to say I couldn't imagine what that was like, but I got a small taste of it once..." She pushed away the memories and focused on the scientific. "I don't have any particular questions just now, but... I wouldn't mind having the opportunity to scan your remaining implants..." she said carefully.
Tyzur caught the hesitation, but chose not to press her on it.
"A small taste?" His curiosity was evident, but he let the question hang.
At her request, he glanced down at his arm again.
"You may. There aren't many opportunities to study Borg technology outside of a laboratory, and I imagine what remains in me is rather more interesting than most specimens."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"Just tell me what you find."
She said nothing about his question. She was not going there.
"Yes, and there are few ex-drones in Starfleet as well," she said. "I'm sure anything I find will be of interest to the scientific community. I am curious... do you still hear them? I have read that sometimes those disconnected still do hear them from time to time."
Tyzur considered the question, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Not literally. I haven't heard the Collective since I was liberated. But sometimes I experience something that feels... similar."
He searched for the right words.
"As a physician, I'd compare it to phantom limb syndrome. The limb is gone, but the brain still expects it to be there. Except in my case, it's almost as though I can feel the presence of other minds where there shouldn't be any."
His gaze dropped to his cybernetic arm.
"I still have my interlink node. It was too dangerous to remove when I was liberated, though I've been told it might be possible in the future. So I can't entirely rule out a technological cause."
He looked back to Shirik.
"But I've never been able to determine whether I'm sensing something through the node, or simply remembering what connection felt like."
"Let's hope it's the latter," she said quietly. Then her expression changed, going neutral once more. "But I've taken enough of your time. Both our shifts are over for the day. What did you think of the new EMH?"
Tyzur considered the question for a moment.
"Medically, she appears perfectly sound. What interested me more was everything beyond that. She learns, asks questions, and seems capable of developing her understanding of herself."
He glanced briefly toward the space where the EMH had been.
"I wouldn't call her sentient based on what I saw today. But I wouldn't dismiss the possibility either. I think she's worth watching as she gains more experience."
He smiled faintly.
"I'd be interested to see who she becomes."
He turned his attention back to Shirik.
"But that's my assessment. What did you make of her?"
"It's an impressive piece of technology," she said. "A bit more advanced than the Mark VI, but built on its framework. I imagine the crew will find it easy to work with as needed, and probably identify with it as you seem to be."
Tyzur nodded, considering her words.
"I think the crew will find her useful. And perhaps, in time, they'll find her rather more than that."
He glanced once more toward the now empty holodeck.
"Either way, I'm glad we had the opportunity to meet her properly."
He looked back to Shirik.
"And thank you for speaking with me, Commander. I'll arrange your follow-up evaluation for Beta shift."
A faint smile returned to his face.
"After everything we've discussed today, I think we've both earned the end of our shifts."
She inclined her head slightly in agreement. "Indeed." She picked her PADD up off the console. "Computer, end program." The console dissolved away. "Enjoy your evening, Doctor." she said, and headed towards the exit.