Star Trek: Starbase 777 - intensive-care-unit

He had wheeled her in promptly, and then had transferred the life support systems back into the station’s EPS grid. And put some nurses up to monitoring her, of course, now that was little to no use for him anymore now that there were nursing monitoring. He looked back at her one more time with a contemplative look, but his time was done. There was a nod then a sentimental look around the ICU once more before he said the commands to the computer, maybe he’ll come back online someday, maybe someday soon, to his understanding most of the medical staff had been killed, and with the way the station looked now, medical staff’s hands would be tied and he would be needed again. But the emergency was done, time for him to return to the buffer. “Computer, deactivate emergency medical holographic program.” And he had disappeared into the void again, in an eternal slumber until someone needed him again, someone had been saved but it’s almost as if someone were lost in this sickbay after all.

Vialara stepped back through to the ICU with PADD in hand. It had been a difficult few days dealing with the injured, but mostly dealing with the dead. She had lost a lot of good officers during the attack, including her chief medical officer. A position she herself now had to fulfill but despite her small breakdown in the surgical suite, she finally felt she was up to the task. She made her over to the bed of the commodore, who's life she had saved a mere few days ago. Tapping on the biobed to transfer the overnight readings. "Commodore, are you awake yet?"

There had been nothing from the Trill for a while, now. Here and there had brought brief moments of spiking neural scans and shifts in observations but any indication of wakefulness had died down, seemingly not ready for it yet. The attempt to find true consciousness in the real world had been too difficult when she was still trying to reconcile with exactly what had happened. In those brief moments which neared lucidity she could see it; not clearly, but as if she was watching a memory through tilted glass. The pain of being stabbed felt more like a dull ache and her recollection of what happened afterwards seemed to be all over the place: watching the officers being fired upon and praying that they would make it, knowing there was no way to save them, being thrown over the shoulder of the Gorn Captain, the feeling of cold metal against her face as she was lain upon the floor of the shuttlecraft. She remembered being transported. After then there was no visual input but she could recall how her own internal voice seemed to splinter into multiple, starkly clear for the first time in a way that the hadn't been since her zhian'tara. Normally the host and symbiont were one entity, they served and acted and thought and felt as one being... But here they were multiple, with the symbiont silent and the individual hosts speaking instead. "We're going to die," Osraul had stated. "At least we do so for a noble cause," Liadri had said next. "We can't afford to die," Aleto had told them as everything became numb. "They still need us." server_divider

01:11

There had been nothing since then until now. As she slowly awoke the Trill found that she could perceive; feeling like herself as one being again, hearing the sound of soft monitor chimes, smelling the clinical scent that always seemed to come with medical facilities. For a time she listened, seemingly unable to open her eyes or speak, and the more she tried the more disconcerting it became -- but upon hearing a voice from nearby she latched onto it, listening, and hoping it wouldn't leave. The voice didn't speak again after that. It was horrible how she couldn't reply, body seemingly not wanting to comply - but she felt ready, this time, and the looming desire to sink back into sleep was going to be ignored. It was a good three minutes after the question had been posed and she had no idea whether the person was still there or not but finally she managed to reply, voice barely above a whisper but still there. "'M... Awake."

Having almost finished her analysis of the previous nights readings, the woman had changed the Commodore's fluids for a fresh bag and had gone to walk out of the room, being stopped by the wakefulness she could sense coming from behind her. Then the quiet voice, confirmation that she was actually speaking to her. "Oh, you are awake. I thought you weren't talking back because you were still sleeping. Welcome back to the land of the living, Commodore. I was worried that you were never going to wake. It's been nearly three days since you came out of surgery." Vialara made her way over to the commodore once more, kicking the biobed into active scanning mode and pulling across a chair so that she could spend the next few moments overseeing her wake up.

A gentle tap came at the door. (edited)

Three days, she thought to herself, trying to muse over exactly what could have happened in that time. An educated guess - not that her brain was fully up to one right now - was that somehow the station had been saved by the raiders... Unless this wasn't their own medical bay and they had been taken to some other starship or facility. She needed visual confirmation -- but when she finally opened her eyes after a good moment of fighting her body to let her do so, the light of the presumed medical bay was far too bright and so she immediately had to close them again. If they weren't on the starbase then at least they were somewhere safe. Maybe the station hadn't been saved but they had at least been evacuated... But then there was the issue - had everyone else been as well? It was difficult to consider everything at once through the haze that had seemed to settle within her mind but that sense of urgency cut through; what had happened, and was her crew okay? ...Silly question, really, seeing as how she was well aware that far too many of them had been deceased before the raiders even made it up to the operational deck. Were the rest of them okay? Had the Eventide managed to escape? Were the civilians okay? How many of the crew had survived, what was the damage to the station like if it had remained intact at all... Where before her thoughts had been sluggish and slow everything now turned into a rather desperate jumble. It was interesting how externally there was no such display of that sort of panic. Dreaxa's empathy would have detected it. The biobed's readings would have detected it in the sudden increase of heart rate. Externally, however, there were only a few tired blinks and a matching set of slow inhales and exhales. "Three days is... A lot of time," she stated but paused at the sound of knocking on the door, thankful for that instead of the door chime being used considering how loud it would have been. "'S everyone... Safe?"

Ughaz'udan appeared behind Lilian, looming over her like a scaly golem of death. Or maybe just scaly golem.

Vialara looked over at the door as she heard the knocking. Before turning back to the commodore briefly. Standing up off her chair that she had just sad down at "Yeah, everyone is safe now, Commodore. You don't have to worry about them. We're in very good hands." Not entirely a lie. She wouldn't need to know about anything that's happened yet, recovery was more important first. "I'll be right back, I'm going to see who's at the door."

The door to Intensive Care Unit opened to Lilian.

”Hello, I was wondering if you might want someone to take over watching to commodore for a bit? I needed a break from office work.” She smiled warmly at Vialara.

She smiled back at the Lieutenant as the door slid open. Moving to stand in the doorway slightly out of earshot of the commodore. "The commodore has just woken up for the first time in three days, I appreciate your offer to help but I have to do a few mandatory medical checkups first. I know you're all raring to see her and check how she's doing, but remember it's my job to make sure her recovery comes first. I'm not sure if she's ready for visitors just yet."

“Oh of course! I didn’t realize she was awake actually.” She chuckled slightly to herself. “Would you like me to go get you anything or just wander off for a bit.”

"Here's a deal, how about I comm you once I'm finished up here? I'm sure the whole checkup thing won't take too long, I'll even run by the whole visitor idea past her. She's going to be a very popular person in the next few days. She's already got people lining up outside the door." She said with a chuckle. "Just give me an hour tops to make sure she's still stable, and I'll get back to you."

"Sure, do you want me to bring you something to eat from down on the promenade or?" She stepped out of the doorframe.

"I'll be fine, Thank you for the offer however Lieutenant. I'll be sure and let the commodore know you dropped by. You too big guy." She said with a smile to Ughaz'udan who was stood behind her. "I'll call you both when we're free." And with that she turned and headed back over to the Commodore's biobed. "Sorry about that, just a couple of excited officers who are looking forward to seeing you. They must think very highly of your leadership."

While the Lieutenant Commander had gone to physically speak with those at the door Treville had firstly spent that time trying to stay awake and secondly trying to work out exactly who was there. Pushing herself upright with the help of the biobed being slightly raised at the back – and regretting it immediately considering just how much moving had hurt – she spent a moment catching her breath before listening to the person who Dreaxa was conversing with. She didn’t recognise the voice. It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t. So many of the staff had been swapped around recently and there hadn’t been a chance to meet all of the new people before everything went haywire. It was only upon catching sight of the person – again, ow, moving forward to do so was a bad idea – that she realised that she knew this person… From somewhere. It seemed like her memory was too busy trying to file through that of previous hosts considering how her initial thought was ‘did I go to school with her back in 2242’ which was obviously incorrect. Eventually she managed to work out that she had seen the woman’s personnel file and this must be Lilian So, the CSO of the Eventide… And the person behind her was Ughaz’udan, the station’s new CTO – he was hard to miss considering she remembered him and the new COS firing upon the mercenaries from inside the roof of the operational deck. She couldn’t help but feel immensely sorry for all of the senior staff who had just come aboard. They had barely been here for any length of time – hadn’t even had a chance to settle in and meet their colleagues – and in no time at all they were being thrown into what was the starbase’s worst crisis so far. What they would have hoped to be a pleasant introduction had instead been complete and utter carnage with all of them having to take their posts without knowing their staff… And subsequently watch numbers of those people be slaughtered. divider

20:44

Even with her memory playing tricks on her, she could still remember that quite clearly. The Trill had figured by the rather brief way that Dreaxa had addressed the issue of them having been in danger that she didn’t want to say more on the topic at present… Which was understandable, given her duty of care, and despite the continued feeling that she needed to know every little detail she opted to brush it aside for now. Unsure if the two waiting outside would see she offered them a small wave just before they turned to leave – and then when the medical officer headed back over, she shook her head softly. “I’m afraid that they don’t know anything of my leadership yet… Both of them are completely knew.” She doubted very much that Lieutenant Ughaz’udan would think highly of anything she had done considering he had witnessed how her negotiation had spectacularly failed. “I’ve barely even met either of them. Both of them had been aboard for no length of time at all when this happened –“ her voice, already quiet, seemed to soften then. “- And you were in exactly the same situation, Commander. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that so suddenly – or at all.”

"Well there must be some reason that they're all coming to visit you, I've never seen a person have so many visitors pop in and out of sickbay. There's been at least four different people in here over the last day alone asking about you. Regardless of whether or not they know you very well, you are their CO and I think they care about your well-being. And don't you worry about me, I'm doing just fine." Again, not a complete lie, she was alright now. Despite how things had gone. "We managed to get everything under control just fine despite the fact you weren't there to guide us. You've got a lot of wonderful staff around here willing to help." She said with another wholesome smile she was so known for as she again took a seat by the Commodore's bedside. Picking her PADD back up from the tray and going back to her notes.

”They’re probably looking for information,” she mused, taking a moment to rub beneath her eyes. How was it that she had seemingly been out for three days and yet still felt so exhausted? “When your commanding officer has been missing for such a length of time you get curious – it wouldn’t surprise me if people were trying to work out if I was still alive or not.” In truth it genuinely was surprising that she was still alive. Her predecessors projecting through Ville had been quite convinced that they were going to die. Part of her had thought that this was the end for the symbiont and another had expected to wake up as part of the amalgam of emotions and personalities and memories that the past hosts made up, but this time, as a new person instead of herself. Whatever Dreaxa had done (for she presumed that it was the Lieutenant Commander here who had been in charge of her care, considering how the woman’s speciality was surgery and all) had evidently worked well… And perhaps the ACMO had felt that it had to. If the station’s communications had remained offline for some time then they would have had no way of contacting the Symbiosis Commission, and everyone knew that the Trill viewed the death of a symbiont to practically be a sin. “The station’s staff have always been highly capable and I don’t doubt that the newly-appointed members of the senior staff are capable of just the same,” Treville then stated whilst regarding the woman to the side. “I’m aware that Captain Clarke – the new deputy – had made it aboard as well. I don’t doubt his ability to run everything in my absence. …But speaking of which.” While her expression had remained largely neutral before her brow now furrowed, seemingly more serious. “I can tell that it’s a topic that you would rather avoid, but I’m going to end up reading the reports sooner rather than later. It would be appreciated if you could give a heads up on exactly what I’ve missed.”

"It's news that I'm afraid I don't know if you're ready for, Commodore. It's rather grim news from what I've heard... The mercenaries during the seige of the station were responsible for a large number of casualties... We're estimating around eighty percent of the crew were lost, including the chief medical officer amongst those... " She said, her voice trailing off towards the end of her sentence as she looked away and down to the floor. "...As for the station, the mercenaries planted explosives but thankfully engineering and operations managed to help disarm them. Repairs are underway across the entire station, as well as treating the injured who survived. Starfleet sent a number of rescue ships to assist, who are helping get our numbers back up again, but there is no question that has been a devestating loss for Starfleet. In better news I heard they captured the General yesterday, they caught her warbird fleeing the sector and she was handed over to Starfleet. So we can rest easier knowing another attack is unlikely." She looked back up at the Trill, giving her a sad but hopeful smile. "I know that was not the news that you wanted to hear. But it's the only news I've got. Unless you want to her about your own recovery too."

Eighty percent. That… It was genuinely hard to comprehend. If a starship went down it was counted as a catastrophe even if it was one of the smallest ships in the fleet. Every life mattered and every death was a blow not only to Starfleet but to the person’s family back home. This… This was on a far larger scale than aboard any starship. This was the equivalent of destroying multiple vessels at once; eight-thousand gone in a singular attack, those mercenaries apparently having no conscience and openly slaughtering innocent Starfleet crew. It was far more than an attack: it had been a massacre. The Betazoid was quite right in that it was news that she was not ready for (although she knew that she had to be told.) Suddenly feeling entirely sick to her stomach, the Trill had to pinch the bridge of her nose and lower her head, breathing in slowly and then exhaling at the same rate. It was a display of emotion that the majority of other commanding officers would never have allowed, but how could you not feel this way upon receiving such news? Being entirely stoic would have been practically inhumane. Imagine the families now grieving, imagine the condolence letters still being sent out (and not written by her which made things even worse.) Imagine the guilt of not having been able to prevent all of those deaths – while she knew that there was nothing that could have been done, she also knew that in particular was going to plague her. At least things had been handled. The rest of the crew – thank the stars for the rest of the crew – had evidently handled things, repairs were underway with the help of other vessels, and at least the perpetrator of the attacks had been caught. At least this offered a positive: the chance to not forget what had happened here, but to rebuild and repair and move on. It was what Starfleet did, after all. divider

23:49

“Please,” Treville stated after a minute, “you hardly need to apologise for being the bearer of bad news. I did ask… And as tragic as this all is, I would much rather be kept informed.” She managed to raise her head to look to the officer again, taking in the details for the first time; how Dreaxa’s hair was ruffled, how she looked more tired than she had done when they had met way back when. Was it recent events that had changed her or was it simply just a matter of years? “How has everyone been handling it all? Are they getting the support they need? Have you been getting right support – especially if Commander H’Nora is… No longer with us. Running medical would have fallen to you.”

"Even though you had to hear it, doesn't make it any easier for you to listen to it, Commodore. You just found out that you've lost almost your entire station in a single attack and you weren't around to help them. It's a feeling I can only imagine must be tearing you apart inside. Actually, well I don't need to, I can sense the pain you're in at just the news alone." She reached out and gently placed a hand on Aleto's as a sign of support. "It's going to be a difficult recovery for all of us, Commodore. But we'll get through it together... As for medical, you're right. I'm the acting chief medical officer these last few days. I've certainly proved I'm capable enough at managing the sickbay if that makes you feel any better. I just didn't expect to be thrust into a position like this on what was essentially my first day. I don't think any of us could have prepared for this. And I don't think you should bring yourself down because of that either. None of this is your fault."

She didn't doubt the Lieutenant Commander's ability to keep medical running without any assistance. If she had managed to acquire the position of ACMO then she had been given it for a reason, and something told her that with a staffing crisis having been ongoing before all of this had occurred then Starfleet Command would likely be willing to accept her promotion to CMO - if the Betazoid wanted it, of course. The woman certainly shouldn't have had to do this by herself (and on her first day here nonetheless) but at least she had taken it in her stride. Treville had no doubts that the rest of the staff had done the same -- if they hadn't, then she doubted they would be having this conversation right now. As for the matter of preparedness... In truth, they should have been more prepared. Vessels had been disappearing and both the Klingons and Romulans had been hit before the Federation had; they should have been informed long before so there could have been adequate time to prepare. Security measures should have been increased from the start, the Eventide should have been deployed with the civilian evacuation far earlier, there should have been defences against however the mercenaries had gotten aboard the station -- really though, how had they gotten aboard... Security should have been able to fight back but instead they were practically mown down, her own negotiation with the Gorn Captain had failed... server_divider

13:17

"There was a lot that could have been done to prepare, Commander, and a lot that could have been done differently. Unfortunately what we have to face is that there isn't any way of going back and changing what occurred. This isn't a training programme; we don't get a do-over. Our actions will be scrutinised by those who rank above us and we simply have to live with the consequences and, like you say, rebuild." Pausing then, she glanced between Dreaxa's hand upon her own - appreciative of the show of support - and offered at least a half smile. "I have no doubts about us managing that."

"I'm glad you share my enthusiasm and hope, Commodore. Many of the people I've spoken to over the past few days have had a rather upsetting outlook on the whole ordeal, which I suppose is fair given the outcome. But it's important to look hopeful and move forward. We have to stay strong and get through this together, those of us who survived..." Her sad somber smile brightened up, and she looked back up at the commodore. "Right, enough bad news. We need to focus on you first. I've got work to do and there's no point sitting around here being all sad." The woman slid up from her chair, giving the Commodore's hand a gentle squeeze as she did, before moving over to pick up her PADD. "Your injury with your fight with a rather strong and angry gorn captain was maybe not your brightest idea, but thankfully you've got a good surgeon to help put you back together." She handed Aleto the PADD as she brought up her medical file. "The knife lacerated your liver and managed to hit Treville in the process, myself and the EMH managed to surgically remove the symbiont, patch both them and yourself up, and attempted a rejoining, which thankfully was successful. You've been out for three days total, but thankfully both you and the symbiont seem in perfect sync again, and other than a little pain and discomfort, you should be fully healthy again. I'll need to keep you in for a couple more days worth of observations until I'm sure that you're doing better, but you should be out of here and back at work in no time. Any questions?" She said with a chuckle, looking back down at Aleto.

"It's just Ville," she stated in regards to the mention of her symbiont, having become well-accustomed to correcting people on the fact despite it being on her file. The matter of her surname had been a point of confusion for other people for two lifetimes now - it was almost instinctively that she corrected people on it. It wasn't as if she minded in truth: there were countless names that she responded to as if they were here own, both Ville and Treville included. The rest didn't seem too bad -- well, the diagrams and imagery upon the PADD did, but the fact that it had all been rather skillfully fixed meant that it was all fine. Only a couple more days within the medical bay was better than she expected as well. Considering how the station had been heavily damaged and they were relying on the assistance of a rescue fleet for repairs all she wanted was to be able to get back to work - and given how medical officers often wanted to keep you in for as long as physically possible, another couple of days was entirely reasonable... And at least the mention of having been unjoined and then subsequently rejoined again explained why her memory and recollection was a total mess at present. Such a procedure was a tricky thing and often performed by the Symbiosis Commission alone; Dreaxa'a completion of it just went to show how capable she was. "I don't think I have any further questions, no -- only gratitude to Lieutenant Ughaz'udan for managing to secure me from the clutches of that Gorn, and to yourself for fixing the damage. I can promise you that being stabbed by him was entirely unintentional-" she offered a light laugh then, although it broke off into a sharp inhale upon realising how that hurt. "-And I do appreciate you having gone out of your way to undo the damage caused. You have my apologies for making your first day so hectic, Commander."

"Just Ville, Noted. I'm sure I saw that in your file somewhere. Sorry about that." She said with a light chuckle, taking the PADD back from the commodore as she did so. "Your gratitude to Lieutenant Ughaz'udan can be delivered in person, I believe he was one of the two who was wanting to visit you earlier. Along with Lieutenant So, If you're up for it I'll be sure and let people know that you're taking visitors. I'd pop in beforehand and let you know you have visitors, obviously. ...As for myself." She smiled and looked down at the commodore. "It seems you owe me a great deal from over the years, Commodore. You're going to have to take me out for a Coffee or something once you get out of here." She said, having a light chuckle.

”Oh please, you don’t need to apologise,” the Trill replied. “My surname is always a point of confusion for most people, and in truth I don’t mind all that much – it’s just in case you weren’t aware.” She hardly wanted to make it seem as though she had been telling Dreaxa off; too many people thought that as soon as a ranking officer corrected them on something, and it was even worse when said ranking officer was the commanding officer of the ship or station or whichever facility you happened to be at. As the Betazoid had put it, she ‘owed her a great deal from over the years,’ and it was as such that she hardly wanted to be butting heads with Dreaxa. The woman deserved more praise than any telling off. “And I have no issue with people stopping by – it would be good to catch up and ensure that everyone is faring alright considering what’s happened.” Some might have considered doing such a thing to be ‘working,’ but to her it was just a common courtesy. Now that she was conscious and not on death’s door everything would revolve around her crew again, and there was no way that she wasn’t going to at least check in with them at least. Ideally she would be out convening with whoever was in charge of the rescue fleet to find out how the repairs were going, speaking with Command to find out the status of them speaking with the families of those who had passed, talking with the department heads to ensure that they were all on track… But those would have to wait, of course, and so the latter would have to do. “As for yourself, yes,” she then mused and offered a smile in response to that laugh. “You’re quite right in that I owe you – even if it is your job.” The statement was light-hearted and delivered with a dash of sarcasm, an effort to lighten things up in present circumstances. “With any luck this one rather good café on the promenade will have remained untouched. I have a feeling that you would like it there.”

She nodded and finished up the last of her notes, slipping her PADD away into her pocket of her coat before moving back to where she was sitting. "I'll be sure to let the others know they can pop by and visit you whenever. I'm sure they'll be glad to hear the commodore is back up and awake again. I think they've all been worried sick about you. The last thing they need after all this bad news was yet more bad news on top. I'm sure your recovery will help improve spirits." She chuckled and gave the commodore a wholehearted smile. "As for that café on the promenade, I'll be sure and book us a table for the day of your release. I'll hold you to that coffee, you're not worming your way out of this one." She said with a chuckle. "That's all your checkups finished, unless you have anything further to add, I'll leave you to rest some more. Don't want me talking your ear off forever."

If anything she was glad that the news that she hadn't perished - entirely thanks to Ughaz'udan, Dreaxa, and any other officer who had assisted - might help to ease any concerns. It felt strange to think that people might have been worried for her but that was what happened when you lived and worked aboard a station like this where you came to know every member of the crew; if something happened to someone then you worried about it. At least this way they knew they weren't going to have to go through another staffing change in the form of their station commander being replaced. Not only was she glad to be alive in general but she was also glad for that same -- her deputy having to take over at a time like this would have been bad enough, but it would have been entirely unfair on any permanent replacement of hers. "I can't tell if that worm pun was intentional or not, but either way I can assure you that I won't try to avoid such an occasion." The reply was light-hearted but also entirely sincere; a promise was a promise. "And don't worry -- I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. I understand that you must be busy. Your company has been completely pleasant, Commander." Hopefully that café wouldn't have been damaged in the raid. In fact she had no idea whether civilians had even returned to the station yet -- thankfully a PADD had been left at her bedside, presumably because the medical officers here knew that it wouldn't be long before she asked. Reading over the reports and catching up would be stressful in terms of content but at least reading was a light activity in itself; hopefully they wouldn't tell her off. With the Leiutenant Commander heading to do other things Treville offered another smile of thanks and then set her head back, closing her eyes again for a moment. Five minutes to stop her eyes hurting from the lighting here and then she would start filing through the reports.

A few hours later, after giving the two time to preform whatever checks they needed Lieutenant So knocked on the door again.

As it turned out, reading over the majority of the submitted reports was a rather dire dask. While catching up with what she had missed was her duty at the end of the day, it wasn't exactly easy when it all referenced how the ship had been completely battered, the station severely damaged on key decks (and looted on others,) and around eight-thousand of their people killed. It was honestly difficult to comprehend. 777 had survived the chaos that was 2410 and the looming threat of the Klingon Civil War on their borders in early 2411 -- only to be hit by a group of hired mercenaries in the latter part of the year. At least they had given a damned good show of holding out against the raiders. Eventide had stayed standing for over a day and the crew here had carried on with their fight despite being demoralised and terrified. It was no wonder that the Klingon Empire and Romulan Republic - both supposedly having had starbases destroyed by this new faction as well - were impressed. Treville was impressed as well; there was no denying how proud she was. These officers were not the tacticians and trained experts (soldiers, really, although Starfleet hated to employ the term) who had been stationed here earlier in the year. They had their Academy training, some had Security and Tactical training, and that was it. They had still fought just as hard as anyone else -- and the difference here was that they had won. server_divider

10:01

Eventually with the reports to go through seemingly being numerous the words began to blur together, and she was quite certain it was that plus the continued introspection on just now unfortunate all of this situation was that was now starting to give her quite the headache. It was to combat this that she eventually gave in and set the PADD down, opting to rest her eyes for a while... Only to then hear the knock at the door. It must be the same person as before, she presumed, who knocked instead of using the chime. It was polite of them considering just how loud that tone could be. Straightening up a bit and trying to look more lively, Treville called for the person to enter.

Lilian poked her head in. “Hello commodore, it’s good to see you awake. If you want to get some sleep I don’t mind waiting a bit longer.” She smiled but it was mostly a mask. She was very tired, mentally and emotionally, after the last few days.

If she had any objections to people stopping by then the Lieutenant would have been halted at the door - or she would have told Dreaxa to keep people away. Even though tired (and stupidly so, she thought, considering how she had been out for three whole days) Treville would far prefer to speak with people as opposed to postpone it. She needed a guage of how everyone was doing, whether they were coping, what sort of support they required -- and that was hardly going to be acquired by not doing anything. Not only was it her duty to do so but she wanted to speak with the officers. She wanted to make sure they were alright. It was with a friendly albeit tired smile that she reassured the Lieutenant and welcomed her in, eager to put any reservations at ease. "It's Lieutenant So, is that correct? Please, come in, don't worry about it - I welcome the company. I'm sorry that we haven't had the chance to speak until now. How are you? I can only apologise that your first week aboard the station has been less than desirable." That was quite the understatement and they both knew it, but it was a far more tacit way of addressing recent events than 'I'm sorry that everyone almost died - and that 8000 did die - on what was probably your first day.' That it like that didn't tend to make for pleasant conversation.

Lilian nodded, and pulled a nurses chair over to next to the bed. The commodore didn't seem to care if she was at attention for this meeting, and it was easier for her. "Yes, Lieutenant Lilian So, CSO of the Eventide. Please, don't worry, I've been in some heated situations before. Though, never as CSO or quite that heated."

"I don't believe that anyone thought things would get that 'heated' as you put it, I'm afraid. When Starfleet Command sent word to us we knew to anticipate an attack, but there was no predicting one of this magnitude. I hear that everyone aboard the Eventide performed incredibly, though, even if it was the first time most of you had even set foot aboard that ship. It certainly makes me confident that you'll handle any future deployments with ease." The conversation was all very diplomatic, a nice fine line where they were talking about what had happened but not delving in too deep to where the conversation would be completely grim. The latter was entirely truthful, however. If anything this crisis had shown just how capable the crew of both 777 and Eventide were, and that was something to be both thankful for and proud of. Steering the conversation into the more darker realms of this attack felt almost wrong, but at the end of the day she needed to ensure that the Lieutenant was at least coping with it all. "How have you been faring after all of this? I know that having to step up so suddenly in a crisis like that wouldn't have been easy - and I'm aware that everyone has been busy assisting in the likes of the repairs. Have you had the chance to recuperate yourself?" Her brow furrowed slightly, a look which wasn't of anger but entirely of concern. "I hope you haven't been working yourself too hard."

Lilian shook her head. "I haven't really been able to rest yet. Wanted to get all the letters out as soon as possible." She slumped over a bit in her chair. "That's actually what I was taking a break from by coming and talking to you."

The way that the Lieutenant's posture seemed to melt really explained it all. Treville was aware that Command had been handling the informing of families but she hadn't any idea that they had decided to recruit her staff into the matter. Lieutenant So here was hardly the station commander or deputy commander or commanding officer or first officer. She had barely been here for any time at all - her having to contribute seemed entirely incorrect. At least the letters might seem a bit more personable if they were signed from a member of the new ship's senior staff: when they were marked with the generic '-Starfleet Command' it could seem robotic and without care. "I was aware that Command were handling that but I had no idea that senior staff had been asked to assist. I am sorry that you've been having to do such a thing: for one I know it's not easy, and for two it's a job that shouldn't have fallen to you. I presume you've only been handling the ones from the Eventide considering you're stationed there, is that correct?" That would explain at least a fair bit -- according to the reports the CO and XO were set to be court martialled for something so they would be a little indisposed. It still felt difficult to believe; both of them seemed upstanding. Realising this was her chance to find out more in regards to that, her brown eyes settled upon the Lieutenant, head ever so slightly tilted to the side. "You didn't happen to be on the Eventide's bridge during to conflict, did you..? I've heard that concerns have been brought up but I haven't managed to find out what they are yet -- I haven't gotten through the list of reports, evidently."

“Actually I requested to do them. Wanted to make it a bit easier however I could for families. And yeah, I was on the bridge so I’m going to have to go to those hearings too.” She fidgeted awkwardly.

Her gaze softened somewhat at the mention of how So had volunteered herself to write the letters of condolence. It truly was a heartbreaking task and having to power through the writing was difficult. She was more than certain that the families of those who hadn't made it would be thankful for the personal touch; it was certainly kind of So to do such a thing. With the conversation having moved on, however, she didn't mention it again - and instead waited patiently for some sort of further explanation regarding these apparent court martials. With her having stated that she didn't know what they were for she had presumed that it was apparent that she wanted the Lieutenant to elaborate, and that was why she actually paused, waiting... Only to find that nothing further was said at all aside from the mention of having to attend the hearing. Was the Lieutenant's sudden fidgeting because she had asked, because of the prospect of a hearing, or because of the topic at hand in general..? It was understandable; people always feared any sort of formal situation like that, especially if it was one in which people were being reprimanded or you had to speak out against a senior officer. "I'm certain that they would only ask you to speak if it's required - and if they do, all you have to do is tell the truth. ...But like I say, I know nothing of the reasons behind these court martials. Tell me exactly what happened?"

"Commander Styre suggested some... troubling, methods for dealing with the perusing ships. Methods that went against certain conventions. I can't say why exactly Captain Caddel got caught up too, to my memory she didn't do anything wrong." She hadn't really wanted to talk about it, but if the commodore really didn't know it was important to tell her.

The talk of 'against certain conventions' was troubling enough even if the Lieutenant didn't state exactly which. Taking drastic measures during a crisis was something that they had to face often, but when it went against laws... Some might say that it would be justified and others would say otherwise. It was difficult to tell if a situation warranted something like that and Starfleet officers hardly had the ability to make that decision. The decision - and its fallout and consequences - belonged to people far above their rank who had the ability and experience to decide that sort of thing, not a singular commanding officer or first officer of a ship. ...But that being said. If Eventide's communications had also been down then there would have been no way of contacting Starfleet Command on priority and asking for advice -- or for permission. Both Caddel and Styre were upstanding officers going by their files. If they believed that drastic measures were required then Treville was certain they would have had firm reason of why... But it still didn't make having to face the consequences and the rulings any easier. Starfleet Command would scrutinise it all and come to a decision, and there wasn't much else that could be done about it in the meantime. "This news is... Troubling, to say the least," the Trill replied after a moment of deliberation. "But the captain and first officer are both good people - if they have done something wrong then I'm certain they had very firm reasoning behind it, and more importantly, I'm certain that they will be willing to face judgment for anything untoward that they've done. You will know that better than I, Lieutenant; a person's actions and their style of command while under pressure certainly can teach you a lot about them."

"This is true, and from what I hear you gave a good account of your own leadership. Until you got stabbed that is, kinda hard to lead well while bleeding out." It was an attempt at a joke, but the heart wasn't there with the present situation.

"I don't think that failing a negotiation - and a rather imperative one - is a particularly good show of anything," *she replied with a mock-grimace which may not have been entirely fake. "Especially when the outcome is being stabbed. It certainly wasn't my finest hour to say the least. At least it gave the medical officers some rather niche surgery practice." The pattern they had fallen into was a familiar one, quips and light-heartedness as an attempt to distract from exactly how dire things had been - and how they still weren't perfect, and likely never would be. After occasions like these things didn't go back to normal. It felt normal, but that normal was... Still different. There was no undoing the damage that had been done, whether that be physically or mentally. Normal was replaced by something new. Treville shook her head softly as if to clear her thoughts – time to move away from continually addressing how bad everything was and look to moving onwards instead. “Ah, well… As unfortunate as all of this is, Lieutenant So, there isn’t any point in dwelling on it. I’m certain that everyone acted to the best of their ability and that they still continue to do so. What matters now is our ability to move on; to repair and recover. We owe it to ourselves.”

Lilian nodded. "Well, I suppose I should get back to work and let you rest." She headed for the door.

Lilian had left in order to attend the court martial.

He chimed the doorbell.

The period of time following Lieutenant So's departure hadn't been particularly productive at all. Work has become impossible considering how the words upon the PADD had started to blur together and become unreadable. Any attempt at sleep was entirely fitful. Too tired to work, too worried about work to sleep; it wasn't an ideal situation at all. She had settled with compiling a to-do list in her head for now - one that was rapidly getting longer and longer with every piece of work she thought of or the addition of something new that would need checked up on. Apparently the admiralty had arrived on the station now - hopefully Operations and the allocated boatswain staff would have handled their arrival fine - and this court martial was supposedly underway. There really was too much to think about at once. A welcome interruption came in the form of the door being chimed. Either this was another one of the people who had tried to stop by before - Lieutenant Ughaz'udan came to mind - or it was someone else if word had gotten out that she hadn't actually died... Presumably it wasn't the latter considering how she hadn't received an influx of reports from the staff directly to her yet, they were all still generically labelled. Either way she paused for a moment to straighten up a bit and try to look a bit more alert before calling for the person to enter.

If she'd suspected Ughaz'udan she was right. He emerged through the door looking no worse for wear with maybe a new scar or two and looked her over in a sort of solemn silence. She looked... weak. For lack of a better term. Battered. Gravely injured of course, he knew that, and on the mend. He knew of all species that no one individual felt their best or wanted to be seen in this sorry state, to be less than they were, and it was along this line that he could sympathize with her. "Commodore." He started awkwardly. He wasn't good at starting conversation. Still a ways to go, ha. "I am pleased to see that you are recovering." Which was the truth, really, the simple truth. He walked slowly to her bedside but did not sit. Yet. (edited)

The Chief Tactical Officer looked more as if he had just entered into a funeral than anything, expression certainly making him seem that he would fit in at one at present. It was in a total contrast to his own that she offered him a welcoming smile and beckoned him over with a wave of her hand. This was the first time she had seen him in proper light - and the first time they had properly met, really - and so she spent a moment looking him over. A Jem'hadar exchange officer now serving within Starfleet... At the start of her diplomatic career she would have said it was practically impossible, and yet here he was right now. It was almost inspiring to see. "Come on over, Lieutenant, take a seat - don't be shy," she stated in return, having noticed him step forward but make no move to sit. She was hardly going to enact any sort of formalities here of all places and she hardly did within the operational deck; the flag officers who forced everyone to salute and stand at attention really were conceited. Rank did not mean that you had to act like you were better than everyone else. "I have our medical staff to thank for that recovery - and also you to thank as well. I certainly wouldn't be in a position as fortunate as this had you not managed to get me back." She offered him a look that was somewhat amused, somewhat impressed; eyes crinkling up at the corners as she smiled. "Chasing after that Gorn Captain was quite a feat."

"The rescue itself was... disappointingly easy. The Gorn captain and his subordinate aboard the runabout offered surprisingly little resistance." He replied flatly as he sat, more relaxed but still very much at attention. He would not allow himself to look less than that in front of a commanding officer. Fullstop. "Nonetheless I merely did what my duties demanded of me. That is all." A short period of silence. "Nonethless, thank you. I am honored."

”You don’t need to sit so stiffly, Lieutenant,” she stated once he had taken his seat but seemed to remain almost statue-still. She supposed that sort of thing was just ingrained into him, but Treville would far rather he felt comfortable than feel pressured to seem to constantly be at attention. Too many people felt pressured to always be so perfectly correct and presentable in front of their CO and she had never really cared to force them to do so. Only in matters where formalities were required would she then let them know. “I won’t tell you off for not being at attention every minute of the day.” “And please – you don’t need to thank me at all. It’s me who is thanking you.” The words spoken were solemn and entirely truthful. “The efforts of the mercenaries being well-performed or not, you still went out of your way – and singlehandedly at that – in order to retrieve an officer that you barely even know… And that was after witnessing the devastation that the mercenaries had already caused. You willingly put yourself at risk in order to assist someone else: it’s both reckless and inspiring… Both of which are well-known traits found in a good Starfleet officer,” she then added at the end with that same knowing smile.

He responded plainly and very Jem'hadar-ly - which was probably expected knowing him and his people: "My duty to you and to my comrades supercedes all other things in battle. Going out of my way and above and beyond for my given cause is what I was born to do and shall continue to do. So much the Founders demanded of me and so much I shall also give to Starfleet." He paused for effect - or maybe that too was awkwardness swiftly disguised as that. "That is all."

"Well I'm glad that your devotion to what the Founders ask of you translates well over to Starfleet," she mused, "and also that we're at least giving you the opportunity to fulfil your purpose as you see it, even if it's under unpleasant circumstances." Her word choice was very purposeful; as the individual themselves saw it and not as the Founders saw it. Treville was well aware that the Jem'hadar effectively had one purpose and that was to do as the Founders saw fit, but they were still individuals with their own lives. The fact that they were effectively used as pawns by the Dominion and never allowed to experience life had always been one of the main reasons for conflict when trying to come to agreements and formal alliances with the Dominion. The Federation were hell-bent on the correct treatment of its inhabitants and the Dominion tended to go for the direct opposite. "Aside from all of the recent carnage I hope that you've been managing to settle in well. I know that going from the Dominion to the Allied Fleet Service must have been a jump in itself, and then exchanging over to Starfleet must have been incredibly different. If there's ever anything that can be done to help you settle in then you must let us know; we are here to accommodate you, after all. How have you found things so far?" server_divider

21:43

The question was posed as an open one largely so she could see how he was getting on. It was almost strange to consider the Jem'hadar's experience. Would he have found it difficult to get used to things here, or would the transition be easy? Service to the Dominion and then the Allied Fleet Service would have been all he had ever known... But that length of time only spanned the course of two years. On Earth he wouldn't have even been able to graduate from Starfleet Academy and yet here he was, a two-year old Jem'hadar serving as the Chief Tactical Officer on a Federation base, having a conversation with a Joined Trill of 453 combined years. What an odd pair they made.

"I have found things to be pleasant." That he could absolutely say without any compunction. Everyone had indeed been absolutely pleasant and accepting of him so far, save a few (such as that one android obsessed cadet); as expected of a Federation space service. "Though I find some things Starfleet does to be... odd. Such as face value acceptance of the android designated L1. I do not like the circumstances in which she came to us; I find them far too suspect. If you will forgive me - why is the Federation so willing to take seemingly innocent others into its arms? I do not understand." Which, of course, came from the inborn Jem'hadar drive to consider everyone as a potential opponent. For some that translated to suspicion of everyone they saw and for Ughaz'udan that seemed to especially be the case as department head. (edited)

Having been away from the station at the time that they detected L1 and brought her aboard - and subsequently indisposed since then - the station commander had no awareness of what had transpired regarding the android. It was as a result that the Jem'hadar's words were met with a confused frown, but at least she understood the latter part and his question. In her time with the Diplomatic Corps she had welcomed numerous people into the Federation from external powers - including the Dominion once or twice - and so that part of the question was hardly a difficult one. "I'm afraid that I'm unaware of the circumstances surrounding any android being brought aboard - I'm evidently not up to date," she stated firstly and picked up the PADD in a gesture to indicate that she was still working through everything from since she had been off-station. "As for your question, Lieutenant... 'Seemingly' innocent says it all. People are, as you will know, innocent until they are proven guilty. Now we always have our suspicions about people for whatever reason - perhaps they're travelling from somewhere who has had a rocky relationship with the Federation, or perhaps someone has indicated that something may be suspect about this person. If we have no proof of this, however, then they are - in our eyes - innocent." server_divider

22:58

With a brief pause she settled back against the raised back of the biobed, lacing and unlacing her fingers in her lap. "Generally speaking, those we welcome in are looking to join the Federation for a reason. They're seeking asylum from something bad: persecution because of their ideology, religion, even still gender identity or sexual orientation in some places. Perhaps they're running from an oppressive society - even if the oppression isn't against themselves, but perhaps it's against someone else and they don't want to contribute to it. As a matter of security these people are still looked into - documentation of identification and travel, for example - but what matters to us is ensuring that they are safe. The Federation has always strived to be somewhere that people do not have to live in fear -- whether that be for citizens born here or for those who come from outside, we see no difference."

"'Innocent until proven guilty'." He mused. "A foreign concept to me - and perhaps my people as a whole. As the Founders' hand we fight who we are told to, terminate who we are told to. There is no space to allow for innocence." Ughaz'udan went silent afterward, a sort of thoughtful silence during which he found a finger idly tapping on his knee, out of the Commodore's sight. "Then it seems there is still very much I must learn about the Federation. The Founders have willed that I do so and so I shall do just that."

"We're still told who we need to support and oppose as well," the Trill mused, looking to the Jem'hadar at her side. "There will always be people in positions far higher up the chain than us who make those difficult decisions for on our behalf. Sometimes they're right, and sometimes they're wrong. Just like yourself and the Founders, we do what we're told. ...Perhaps what sets us apart is that we know when to question those orders, though. I know that concept will sound foreign to you considering service to the Founders is written into your DNA... But know this, Lieutenant: if anyone ever makes a bad call - something immoral, something dangerous, anything of the sort - then know that you can speak up. That it's your duty to speak up. Sometimes, one person can make a difference." For another moment she regarded the Jem'hadar, trying to just comprehend that he had been around for no time at all, knew so much, and would struggle to change so much as well. His species was a curious one and with them quite literally being made to be pawns to the Founders, it made her wonder just how much he could learn or could change. Ughaz'udan was an individual, one very capable of forming his own opinions and judgements and moral code, surely... For all Treville knew, one day he might set some sort of precedent for the other Jem'hadar out there. It was wishful thinking - and she was well aware that their service to the Dominion was simply their culture, just because it wasn't how the Federation did things it didn't mean that it was wrong... But it felt wrong, and her wishful thinking for Ughaz'udan and the rest of his people would remain. server_divider

01:47

"I'm well aware that your time in the Federation's territory is going to be quite the journey. I'll apologise in advance for anything that we do that goes against your normal code of ethics; undoubtedly you will find a fair number of differences between our two factions. You might find that you learn something along the way, though... I certainly hope that you do."

Ughaz'udan was silent for a long while as he processed what had just been said to him. Many things Starfleet did, or rather the Federation as a whole did confused him. But of course he would learn, that was his purpose in being here after all wasn't it? His mission from both Alliance Command and the Founders. Perhaps one day he might see a different way of life, but that day was surely a long while away. "Of course. Nonetheless I look ahead to the days to come. There is much to be done here on the station and I am sure that the learning shall happen as it shall. For one I have yet to properly consolidate what remains of my department following the attack - perhaps then I will find something to take away." A short pause ensued, during which he took a moment to turn recent events over in his head. "Is it commonplace for junior officers to assign nicknames to their heads of department and use them in that person's presence?"

"I'm certain that you're doing a fine job, all things considered. Not only have you taken over the department but you've taken over the department and immediately been thrown head-first into what is easily the worst crisis that we've ever seen. I haven't heard anything to suggest that you're not doing things correctly, so I'm certain you're faring alright." It was undoubted that if people thought that the Lieutenant wasn't keeping the department in line then she would already know about it. People were quick to report back to her especially when something was wrong - but she hadn't received a single untoward report, just standard updates and notings down of what had changed or been repaired. "As for the rest... I suppose it depends on who that departmental head is. Some people might welcome a nickname and a relaxed atmosphere at work where they believe that's okay. Some others prefer to simply be addressed by their name, or their rank - and then you have others who much prefer formalities and prefer to be addressed by sir all the time." Halting there, she narrowed her eyes a little as she contemplated the reason behind the question. "You're not asking in regards to yourself, are you? Whether you allow that sort of thing is entirely down to your own personal preference. Doing so without asking is generally considered to be wrong - in Starfleet's terms of upholding and showing respect to a senior officer, calling said officers by anything informal is out of line until stated otherwise."

"Then I shall be speaking to cadet Bienstadt in short order." He replied flatly. "I do not appreciate being called 'lieutenant Spikes' in the presence of the other senior staff - and when present in person." He probably wouldn't yell the poor girl down - but he'd give her a talking-to at least and drill where she stood in this particular order into her head. Some cadets needed to be put in place. "Elsewise I shall arrange for all available tactical officers to meet once I've had something to eat. Promptness is of utmost importance to me."

Treville couldn't help but feel sorry for the cadet in question - not because she feared that Ughaz'udan would be too harsh, but solely because being a cadet on a practical placement was terrifying enough and being told off was the last thing that you wanted. She couldn't comprehend what had possessed the cadet to refer to the CTO as 'Lieutenant Spikes' - well, other than the physical description - but she would certainly say a silent prayer that the discussion between the two wouldn't go too badly. "I'm certain that the Cadet meant no harm by it; it's difficult being a cadet and speaking to someone so high ranking, it is possible that they were nervous and slipped up. Do try not to be too hard on them... But I do agree that perhaps a reminder might be in order. And if you want to attend to that with haste, Lieutenant, then please feel free - I won't keep you. I do very much appreciate you stopping by," she then stated, expression softening. "It was nice to get to meet you outside of in the midst of a battle. I'll wish you well for getting settled into the Tactical division -- and please, if you have any further questions whether they be work-related or otherwise, then you know where to find me. Hopefully not here for much longer-" the Trill laughed lightly at that only to break off into a grimace, remembering that laughing presently hurt. "-But you know what I mean. Any time I can help, don't hesitate to get in touch."

"I do." He rose to his full height of six foot five once more in stoic silence. His time here was done - he had work to do and needed to find himself something to put in his belly lest he keel over and faint. He'd just have to bear with the still-remaining unfamiliarity of it. "I shall keep that in mind. Until next time..." And it was then his expression softened, becoming more rock hard than steel hard. "Rest well, sir. This crew requires a leader and it will bring fire to their being to see you where you belong." Maybe there existed some sliver of gentleness within this scaly giant after all! He glanced down at her one more time before exiting the ward in stoic silence. (edited)

Wandering through to the ICU again, the Doctor smiled and headed over towards the Commodore's bed. It had been just over three days since the commodores first awakening, and despite the fact the doctor had promised two days, slight complications had extended her stay a tad longer than she had anticipated. But the commodore was finally well enough to be released. "Today's the day, Commodore. Your scans are all good, both you and Ville seem to be back to normal again. I'd advise you take the next few days slow to begin with, but you should be back working at your full capacity by the end of the week. I'm officially ready to discharge you."

The aforementioned three days had mostly been spent catching up on everything that she had missed, firstly when she was off-station for the conference and secondly when she had been... Indisposed, to say the least. Treville had hoped that she would have been allowed out of medical earlier than now, but in typical her fashion complications had arisen (for being joined never seemed to be a walk in the park) and it had prolonged things. The good doctor Dreaxa had promised the next day, however, and needless to say the Trill was more than happy for that promise to come to fruition. It wasn't as if she didn't enjoy the company of the medical officers - they had all been lovely - but considering things work was far more imperative... And the Operations officer who was supposedly looking after Orih had reported the caracal had become quite a handful. Reports of repairs were still coming in and having caught up on them all the previous day, Treville was determined to stay on top of it all instead of allowing everything to mount up again. Perched at the edge of the biobed, she had one leg drawn up to her chin (with her chin resting upon it,) the other leg dangling off the side of the bed, one hand in her lap, and the other holding the PADD at a reasonable reading distance. With her uniform shirt on, jacket sat beside her, and boots off but still nearby it was apparent that she was prepared to leave. At the sound of the doors opening she looked up expectantly, instantly offering a smile to the medical officer (as if it might convince Dreaxa to let her leave if she was arriving with bad news)... But thankfully, the news wasn't bad at all. "I'm glad to hear that you're staying true to your promise, Lieutenant Commander - I was starting to worry that you might keep me here forever. That's not to say that I don't enjoy your company of course-" at that she offered a genuine smile of reassurance, "-but I am looking forward to getting back to work."

"As much as I love having you around, I'm afraid I cant reasonably keep you here any longer." She said with a chuckle. "Looks like you're already ready to leave, were you that desperate to get away from me? Surely my lovely medical bay cant be that bad, we've taken wonderful care of all your needs haven't we?" She made her way over to the commodore and held out a PADD. "Just need you to sign these release forms and you're free to be on your way." "As for what you do afterwards, are we still good for the Coffee you owe me? Or are you so desperate to get back to work that you're going to let me down on my offer? Surely the station wont fall apart over a quick drink? That café you told me about is still standing. I went a checked the other day, just in case." She gave Treville a smirk at her offer. "Cmon, you did say you owed me one."

"Come now," she stated whilst taking the outstretched PADD and raising an eyebrow at the officer's statement before turning her attention to the forms, "didn't I just clarify that it isn't because of your company? You've all taken perfect care of me -- and that's in terms of more than company. I'm more than aware that if it weren't for you then I wouldn't be here." The way that she spoke wasn't frustrated in any way, nor was it sarcastic. In fact she seemed entirely sincere. Falling silent while Dreaxa talked, she used the time to read over the discharge forms and fill in her signature at the bottom. It didn't take an in-depth reading to catch the gist of the forms: most of it basically stated 'don't overwork yourself, don't do anything stupid.' Truthfully Treville had no intention of doing anything stupid; her main intention was catching up with her officers and ensuring that everyone was coping okay. While Dreaxa spoke she kept listening - and at the end looked back to her, seemingly surprised. "When you had spoken about going for coffee I had presumed later, Commander, as in -- after all of this. Aren't you on duty at the moment?" It wasn't as if they weren't allowed a break, of course, but this felt... Almost wrong. The thought of not immediately diving back into work didn't feel quite right at all considering that all of the rest of the crew had been dealing with repairs and recovery and... Everything. Not assisting felt like a betrayal. The opportunity would at least give her a chance to survey the promenade, however... "I'll admit that heading straight to work was my intention, but if you don't have time at any other point..."

"As it turns out, I'm almost finished for the day. You're the last patient I need to deal with for the evening. It's entirely up to you, I'm happy to wait until you're more ready to relax a little, but it's not like the station is going to collapse if you don't watch over it. We've all been through a lot, it's important that we band together and help each other through this." She gave her a reassuring smile and took the PADD of the commodore, slipping it back into her coat pocket. In all honesty perhaps the commodore was right, with all the death and destruction the station had been though, was it really the right time to be going and getting drinks together? But she was overworked and tired, she needed a coffee regardless if the commodore was coming or not. You could see it in her face that she was tired, clearly not getting the right amount of sleep and she genuinely looked exhausted, her usual pristine look she was known for falling to disarray over several days of hard work. "Again, it's up to you. I'll go put your release form in the system. If you're desperate to get back to work you can just head off."

"If you're headed out then we'll both be going in the same direction anyway," she stated swiftly, hardly wanting to imply that she wasn't interested or willing to show gratitude for the medical officer's continued care. Treville simply had other things on her mind -- and with her having been so out of the loop, it was hard not to worry. Reports could only tell you so much and it should have been her up there coordinating things, not her deputy who had only just arrived or some miscellaneous captain from the rescue fleet. It should have been her, and it wasn't, and that was the entire issue. She couldn't protect her crew during the attack and then she couldn't help them in the aftermath; the guilt was going to continue to cut deep until she could do something about it. "My plans were to survey the promenade seeing as how a large part of the damage was done to there; we'd both be headed in the same direction. It would be a pleasure to walk you there." Sliding off the edge of the biobed, the Trill then put on her boots and then turned to pick up her uniform jacket - newly replicated considering the one she had come in with had a blade-shaped hole in the front of it. With one hand grasping the side of her jacket, ready to put it on, she then stopped for a moment and regarded the Betazoid properly. There was an elongated silence as she looked and eventually her gaze turned from analytical; softening, shoulders less tense, but brow still furrowed slightly perhaps in guilt or concern. Her tone of voice shifted too; quieter, softer, and perhaps with a weary undertone that matched how the Betazoid felt... But formal, forgoing any playful joking from before. "I promise that I don't mean any ill-will by implying I wouldn't go. I fear we simply have different priorities at present, and neither of us are to blame for that. I would be foolish to deny your company, Commander, with how kind you've been and how well you've performed. You have my apologies."

"Don't worry Commodore, I'll let you get back to work. You must be worried sick about your crew and I'm not going to be the one to stop you. Just give me two minutes to put your form in and I'll be right back." The doctor slid away out of the ICU, back through to her office, quickly running the Commodore's release forms into the system and sliding her PADD into her office drawer. She hung her lab coat up on the hook beside her door and made her way back out into the medical bay, with a gentle sigh. Another day of work done with. She popped her head back into the ICU as she returned, giving the commodore a gentle smile. "Right, come on then. Let's get you out of here."

Silently she watched the medical officer exit, thankful for the woman's understanding but still feeling as though she was letting Dreaxa down. She had promised, after all... It would just be far easier to wait until everything had settled down. Treville supposed that things had settled down for Dreaxa and this was the woman's chance to finally relax. They were both running on vastly different schedules, it seemed, and neither of them could help that. While waiting for Dreaxa to finish up her paperwork Treville busied herself with sorting out her uniform, putting on her jacket and adjusting the collar once she had zipped it up. Using the screen of her PADD as a mirror she adjusted her commbadge - making sure it wasn't crooked - and she took a moment to check that she didn't look completely awful. A little haggard perhaps but still presentable, and far better than she would have looked had medical not been so skilled in their treatment. Lingering at the doorway, when Dreaxa reappeared she was more than ready to leave - and quietly she trailed after the officer and out of the medical bay.

She entered the ICU and walked over to her office, leaving the door open. She sat down at her desk and began to read through her reports for the day. She stopped only for sips of coffee between pages.

They passed the ICU, noticing a Lieutenant Junior Grade sitting at a desk. She looked vaguely familiar, but they hadn't met. They stepped inside curiously.

She was fumbling through records on her PADD then comparing to her terminal... muttering under her breath in German. She hadn't yet noticed her superior walk through the door. After a moment she spoke out loud to herself. "Sure would have been nice if the last Trauma Physician left me organised records. Thousands of people on this ship and I can't locate anything!"

"Need any help, Lieutenant?" They asked, smiling sympathetically. Paperwork was, decidedly, the worst to have to deal with.

She popped her head up from her work for a brief second before returning to her sorting. "Oh, hello Doctor. I was just asking myself, but I guess I can ask you... The Doctor i'm replacing... not one for filing were they?"

"I guess not," They shrugged. "I never knew them, I'm relatively new here as well," They said shrugging. If only their shuttle hadn't gotten delayed, that wouldn't have been the case, but some things you can't control.

Finally she stepped from around the desk and offered her hand to M'ow. "Doctor. Odessa Steiger. I'm your new Trauma Physician and Surgeon." She looked rather out of place in the medical setting, as she opted to wear a more formal skirt, heels and uniform sweater, over which she wore her Starfleet labcoat. Never the lest she was more then qualified and wouldn't let them down.

"Lieutenant Hsarr M'ow," They said, taking her hand in their paw. "Assistant CMO. Pleasure to meet you," They wore the typical uniform for the station, with only slight alterations to fit their body shape. Namely, their tail.

"Likewise." She turned to grab her coffee. "Might I offer you a cup of coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee works," They smiled, looking over at the files she was sorting through. "What sort of things are you trying to find?" They asked, hoping they could help at least somewhat. At least to figure the sorting system out, if not find some files for her.

"Well right now I'm just trying to sort all of those data chips into files so they are easier to find. They where just in a box on the desk when I arrived... 2 weeks ago." She finished making the coffee and handed it to them.

"Alright, so how can I help?" They asked, taking the coffee and sitting beside the doctor.

She shuffled some files to show them. "Any datachip labelled 'released'... put in that box there." She pointed to a box next to the doctor.

"Alright, can do," They nodded, setting to work.

"So what brought you to Starfleet?" She spoke without looking up from her work, rapidly sorting her pile.

"A speech from a now-retired Captain when I was in high school," They replied, not quite sorting as fast as Odessa was, but doing their best.

"Oh? That's quite similar to mine... only our presentation was by the Starfleet Surgeon General." She took a sip of her coffee with a smile.

"Funny, how that works out, isn't it?" They said with a chuckle.

"Quite so." She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink.

They continued sorting in silence for a moment. “Stars, there sure are a lot of these,” They observed humorously.

It seemed that someone within the Medical staff had started using the ICU as a storage place instead of a functional ward, hence the workload. The ITU was rarely in use so it must have been the most appropriate place: at present it only housed a singular occupant. The Klingon Councillor, K'gartrern, had recently been extubated -- but he was still to wake, it seemed.

“Unfortunately.” She looked around the room at all the stuff. “This ICU needs a lot of work. It’s a valuable asset and it’s being used for storage.”

“Storage? What if there’s a medical emergency?” Hsarr said, clearly horrified. “Someone needs to say something about this!”

She dramatically facepalmed. “I just did… I told you… you are responsible for oversight of this medical facility are you not?”

“I’m only the ACMO,” They said. “I wouldn’t know what to do,” They thought for a moment. “You’d have to talk to the CMO or maybe the Commodore?”

“Well, seeing as how the ICU is my responsibility now as your Trauma Physician… I will personally be making this place operable by 3 days time. It’s a nightmare in here and I’m surprised the Surgeon General hasn’t forced an investigation.” She set down her coffee and walked to the office window overlooking the rest of the ICU.

“I’m behind you all the way with that,” Hsarr nodded. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” They said.

"Of course. You are helping alot right now." She smiled politely. (edited)

"I'm glad," They said, returning to the sorting.

"Is this your first post?" She asked as she sat back in her chair.

"No, I was on the Trailblazer before this," They replied, not looking up.

"I see. I assume as a medical professional as well?"

They nodded. "I've always been a doctor, and I probably always will."

"I feel quite the same. I was a doctor before Starfleet... and will be after."

“Yeah, kinda hard to see myself doing anything else. I assume it’s like that for you?” They commented.

“Medicine is such a vast field. Once you start you can’t stop learning. Besides, helping people is what I enjoy most.” She smiled.

“I completely agree,” They nodded. “I joined to help people, and even after I retire I will still be helping people,”

She glanced at a picture on her desk and sighed. “If it wasn’t for her… I would still be in Switzerland right now.” She gestures to the photo, that of a younger woman, blonde wearing a lab coat. “She showed me what was possible… and told be to reach for the stars. So we… so I did” (edited)

“Who is she to you?” Hsarr asked politely, looking up at the photo.

"My wife." She looked down. "She passed just before we were going to join Starfleet together."

Their eyes were sympathetic. "I'm sorry for your loss," They said. "I'm sure she was lovley,"

"She was, and she would have loved it here."

"I'm glad that you have memories of her that you can keep with you," They said, placing a gentle paw on her shoulder.

"That photo is all I have, besides my ring. But her spirit lives on." She smiled softly.

"I'm sure she'd be very proud of you,"

"I like to think so."

They returned to sorting, not quite sure where to go with the conversation. "I think I'm almost done," They observed.

"Yes, me too. I'll finish those crates outside tomorrow."

"You know, I really like your dedication to this job," Hsarr smiled.

"It's all I have. And it's my last connection to Angela."

"I know it's not the same, but I think similarly about my baking. It reminds me of my dad,"

"I understand it the same." She smiled as she placed her sorted files into two crates.

"Well, I should probably get back to my paperwork," They said. "Maybe a little research if I have the time."

"Okay. I appreciate your help."

"Of course," They smiled. "See you around," They stood, giving Odessa a small wave before leaving the room.

Heinrich walked in directly, not even knocking. "Hello."

She looked up from her work. "Oh, Hello. What can I do for you Heinrich?"

"May I speak with you privately?"

"Of course. Have a seat." She pushed a button on her terminal, the door hissing shut. The ICU was empty with the exception on one patient at the far end, the window obviously sound resistant.

Heinrich preferred to stand in this situation. "I have been told over and over again that it is not possible without killing me, but to have a procedure to remove my...genetic structure."

"The augmentation?" She looked at him with that standard doctor look.

"Yes, the augmentation that I received as a child. According to Starfleet medical, if I have the augmentation removed it could kill me. However, I disagree with them and want a second opinion."

"I would need to know more about your specific augmentation."

"According to what I know, my senses, my muscular build, my intelligence, all heightened and enhanced."

She stood and walked over to a shelf pulling off a case and taking out a datachip. She inserted it into her terminal. "Well... here is what I can assume. All of your augmentations are genetic... re sequenced DNA. While it would not kill you... it would certainly have drastic changes."

"And those drastic changes include what?"

01:29

"Being rehabilitated into normal was already a drastic change, I believe this will be easy."

'Well, removing and replacing portions of your genome will result in a reduction in your stamina, reflexes, anything heightened. Overtime your muscular structure will reduce and you will have to work harder to keep it where it is. Your strength will decrease majorly. But most important... your psychological and mental state will become changed."

Heinrich finally sat down. He wasn't sure this is what he wanted, was the alcohol talking? No...he couldn't get drunk. Was it because he felt guilty? That was much more plausible. "I killed a bear...." He said softly. "I punched its head right off..." Heinrich looked down at the floor. Not blinking.

"Heinrich, I'm asking as a friend, not a doctor. Why do you want this? The risk... sure you have problems now... but these can be resolved... but those if you go through with this... may not." She walked over and leaned against the desk in front of him.

"I was a monster, I thought I had gotten rid of it Odessa. But it seems my problems are surfacing once again and I cannot fix them by remaining who I am."

"But you can. You have people willing to help you. But you need to let them."

"I was helped, I let too much out. I must seclude myself to my work and nothing more."

"Heinrich... listen to me. Seclusion will get you nowhere." She reached over and tilted his head up to look into his eyes. "Trust me, I've been there. And I wouldn't wish that on my greatest of enemies."

"I interrogated people....intimidation, I held people the tops of buildings...I even murdered, and yet you tell me seclusion is not the best way to go? I am still a monster to society, I should not be wearing this uniform right now."

"Heinrich, we all do things we regret... I let the love of my life burn to death in front of my eyes. But seclusion only makes it worse. You bottle it up with you... those emotions... that rage."

"No rage...just...training..orders..."

"Heinrich, I want to help. But as a medical professional, I don't think the operation is the right choice." She had a bit of a saddened look to her face. "You need to think it through. I will perform the operation, but only with approval from the station's counsellor."

Heinrich looked at her, his eyes spoke it all. Under all that man, under all the genetics that had been performed, was just a simple man. "Yes...Yes of course..." Heinrich stood, straightening himself out.

She stood and led him towards the door. "Would you like to get a bite to eat? It's a bit late and I haven't eaten."

"I was just planning on returning to my quarters to....relax." Heinrich said as he looked back at her. "Though that does seem....like an acceptable idea." He showed no more emotional destress, as if though it had been buried once again deep inside of him.

"Heinrich, if you wan't to rest I won't be hurt by you turning down dinner."

"How about you come to my quarters, I can replicate some Königsberger Klopse and we can drink from a bottle of Schnapps."

She nodded with a small smile and grabbed her uniform jacket putting it on. "I would like that very much."

"Very well. After you doctor."

She stepped out into the main ICU. "Lead the way Sir. Heinrich... it is your place after all."

Heinrich made his way into the corridor.

She followed.

She opened her office and directed Heinrich inside. "Please have a seat Ensign." She relaxed her tone a bit but was still agitated.

Heinrich waited for her to enter as she did, he took a seat. "I see whoever that was has clearly agitated you."

"Is that so Ensign, do those augments make you epathic as well." She said without looking at him as she searched a file case for his file.

"No, but my senses are enhanced, and I know when someone is agitated or annoyed. I know what that reaction looks like."

"Clearly they lack the ability to recognise sarcasm" She found the file and sat down putting it in her terminal. The normal glisten of her eyes, the jovial tone she normally expressed, weren't present. She was like a program in a holodeck. "Ensign, despite my warnings of the danger, and protesting... you still want this procedure. Knowing full well the risks." She stared at him from across the desk. 'But not knowing how much it will hurt me.' She took a moment of silence while she thought. "I don't understand it."

"Doctor, I have for too long been a danger to society. In one way or another, if I removed my augmentations, then that risk and or danger would be removed entirely." Heinrich paused and sighed. "However, from further studies and...a very long night of drink therapy, I have considered to live with my augmentations. Instead of going forward with the procedure, I am asking that the procedure be terminated."

She nodded, but showed no immediate sign of relief but her eyes shifted away and back for a moment as her emotions balanced. "I've done some research. And while I cannot authorise it yet nor confirm it will work, I am proposing a medicated restriction of your physical abilities." She leaned back in her chair. "I can't do anything for your senses, but we might be able restrict your strength to human levels. At least this will even some of the playing fields."

"Doctor. As much as that sounds like an interesting development. I would like to terminate that idea as well. Without my enhanced physical abilities I cannot protect the people around me. My fellow soldiers, and the people to which I have a sense of belonging towards." There was inflection in his voice, as if that was supposed to mean something.

She nodded and stood walking around the desk and leaning against it in front of him. She dropped her tone and the normal Odessa seemed to peak through. "Heinrich... I admire your concern for your fellow crew. However, I feel that you still are unsure."

"As the old saying goes, I believe it was called 'YOLO' or 'You only live once'? If memory serves me correctly from what I read. I would like to spend that time being who I am, instead of trying to change myself to fit the environment around me."

She smiled at the old Earth saying. "You are an interesting man Heinrich."

"How so doctor? I am just like other men, just slightly better."

She smiled. "I don't know... better is surely not my first choice of words."

"I suppose it is the augment in me talking." Heinrich shrugged. "Is there anything else you require from me Doctor?"

She stood from her lean and smiled. "No Ensign, that was all."

"Very well then." Heinrich took his commbadge off, there went the universal translator. "Leutnant Odessa Steiger, in den Traditionen meines Volkes bitte ich Sie, sich mir zu einem Termin um 1800 Uhr morgen anzuschließen."

"Höre ich das richtig? Der stoische Heinrich Boheim hat zum Abendessen gebeten?" She smiled removing her's as well. (edited)

"Wie das Sprichwort sagt, lebt man nur einmal.."

She stepped forward in front of him looking up at him. "Es wäre mir eine Freude, mich Ihnen anzuschließen."

"Ausgezeichnet. Morgen um 1800 Uhr, im Holodeck 2."

"Ich freue mich darauf." She returned her tricomm. "Well then, Ensign, you leave once again with a clean bill of health."

"That is correct." Heinrich said, replacing his commbadge to its usual position on his uniform. "Until then." Heinrich turned in quite a military fashion as he left.

She yelled after him as he left. "Perhaps next time you visit you will have actual medical work for me!"

Things were all quiet within the darkened depths of 777's ICU. It was rare that it was anything other than quiet considering the place only had one occupant at present... And especially considering how that occupant had been in a coma for quite some time now. Things in the past few days, however, had indicated that had the possibility to change. Neural scans displayed brief moments of wakefulness - no attempt to speak or much movement other than the flickering of eyelids, but it was still there. For the Klingon himself it had felt like brief moments of being able to hear before being dragged back into a comforting sleep again... And never remembering these instances even if they happened one after another. Today was going to bring an entire leap forwards, however. For any medical officers monitoring the biobed's readings it came with a sudden change in obs and neural readings -- for K'gartrern, it came with actual wakefulness. A slow breath was drawn in and breathed out in what was like a half-sigh, half-snarl; both hands slowly clenching into fists and then unclenching like an attempt to stretch. The politician couldn't remember a time when his brain had felt so much like fuzz and his body like it was being sat on by at least three targs... It seemed that he had been on some serious good stuff. Last night must have been the best night out.

A nurse monitoring the ICU walked over from her desk calling for the Doctor.

[D] She rushed in to the ICU grabbing her coat. “What is happening Nurse?” She immediately noticed the K12 readings above his head. His vitals had spiked ton normal levels. “He’s awake!”

She ran some quick readings and administered a stabilising hypo before walking back out into the main sickbay.

She opened the office and stepped in offering him a seat before sitting at her desk.

He followed and then sat down "What do you need to talk about?"

"Well... to be quite frank... you." She rested both her hands on the table in that counsellor fashion. "Yesterday, on the Eventide... you opened up... more than I think you meant to... but now it's out and I think you should finish."

"I don't think you want to know anything else ma'am." He said in a more recommending tone, he didn't want to ruin this tentative friendship that he felt they had by talking about the past

She leaned back in her chair for a moment. "Weber... yesterday, I thought I would be leaving tomorrow, never to see you or Heinrich again..." She leaned forward again. "But I'm not... and Heinrich is right... if you are gonna work through things, you do it together..."

"I am glad to hear you are not leaving ma'am." He said with a nod, but he neglected to say anything on the last half of her sentence

17:36

He moved his sitting position from a more casual one of attention, similar to the one he had on the Eventide

"Oskar, you spoke of Erin. Someone who clearly means a lot to you. I'm offering you someone to confide in. You just have to take it."

"I... she was my girlfriend. A long time ago" He said with a slight strain gaining on his voice

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She... she uh... died... five years ago..." *He said with an awkward and strained tone

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She genuinely was.

He nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat "Yeah... She was a good woman."

“Tell me about her. If you don’t mind?”

"She was kind, knew me better than I do." He started in s slightly strained tone

“Take your time.” She spoke in a gentle tone, giving him free control of the conversation.

"I. She- she cared... she was a lot more human than I am. She was more than I deserved." He continued in the same strained tone before going silent and looking down

“I’m sure you deserved her more then you think.”

He shook his head grimly. "No... I don't. But she's gone. Can't help that. Have to move forward." He said, strained at first snd then getting a little firmer in his firmer as he changed the subject

She nodded, satisfied that they were making progress.

"Is there anything else ma'am?" He asked in a strained yet firm tone

“For now that’s all. I would like for us to get together and talk regularly Oskar. I think it will be good for us both.”

"I- alright I guess." He said in an awkward tone

“I appreciate you coming in. Heinrich and I are going to resolve our problems, and I want to help you too.”

"My problems are more than you will want to deal with. But if you insist ma'am." He said as he stood

“It’s my responsibility as your friend to be there for you.”

He nodded "I- alright. Fine."

She stood and walked over to him. She gave him a quick hug before stepping back. “Alright, I won’t torture you any more.”

He froze when she hugged him, he wasn't sure how to respond "I... would not call talking torture." He said awkwardly. 'It is and you are now lying...' he thought to himself but didn't say anything of the sorts to Odessa

“I can see that it bothers you Oskar.”

"It is just difficult. I trust you will not say anything that we talk about to Heinrich?"

“I promise.”

"Thank you..." He said with a small nod, he took a deep breath

“You are dismissed Oskar.”

He nodded and quickly left

She spoke to herself. “Well, that went well.”

[D] As Odessa was sitting in her office, a knock could be heard coming from the door.

She looked up to the door, clearly unable to see who it was through the solid door. "Come in!"

There was no response, after a minute no one had come through the door.

Like any doctor, she had to assume someone could have needed help, so she stood and went to the door, opening it.

The lights in the room had been lowered, and a figure from the shadows grabbed her, lowering her down and kissing her.

She was suddenly swept off her feet, feeling almost weightless in his arms. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as he began to become visible in front of her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him pulling him deeper into the kiss. "I.. Heinrich..."

"Well you did make me promise." Heinrich said before being pulled deeper into the kiss.

She simply smiled and allowed herself to collapse into his embrace.

After a few minutes. Heinrich stood up straight, straightening them both out. "Computer, lights."

She stood stunned for a moment but it didn't last long before she was hugging him tighter than was conceivably possible for her small size. "Thank Olympus you are alright." She stepped back holding him by the arms looking him over... "You would tell me if you were hurt right?"

"Yes of course, the only injury I suffered was a dislocated hand, but that was due to me in the gym earlier with one of the tactical personnel. I have resolved the issue though."

"Did you solve it, or did one of my Med Techs solve it?" She gave him a concerned look.

"I have had many dislocated body parts in my time. So I fixed it on my own."

03:07

"Though if you wish to play doctor, I will allow you to give me a scan over."

She chuckled and playfully manoeuvred him to the couch. "Well, doctors orders are you to be pampered..."

"That apparently seems acceptable at this moment as I am currently off duty."

She gently forced him to sit on the couch, she sat down across his lap and took his hand, gently rubbing it as she did in fact examine it medically despite the circumstance.

Heinrich sat, but he watched her mess with his hand. He was not accustomed to this, but he let her. "Is my hand alright for you doctor?"

She smiled and massaged the joints in his wrist. "It will be. I wish you would have come to me first."

"There was no need to, I can fix smaller injuries on my own. I have medical training of sorts."

"There is always a need to see your friendly neighbourhood doctor." She set his hand down on her lap and wrapped her arms around him. "Besides, who would give you lollipops for being a good patient?"

Heinrich chuckled lightly "Back I'm the field...instead of lollipops I would get packs of cigarettes."

She chuckled playing with his hair. "Well, sorry for you I don't have cigarettes... or lollipops... so I can offer you two choices... a kiss... oh who am I kidding... there's only one choice...

"It would be the most acceptable response in this situation."

She smiled at the remark but gave him a quick kiss. "You must have a lot of experience in this situation?"

@Lt. JG. Odessa Steiger | MED (@cottagepawsari) - jump "I rarely kissed Genesis, it was very hard to find time to...spend time together to that caliber."

“You would be surprised how hard it is to find me too love.” She gently brushed his hair with her fingers.. “But my door is always open.”

A nurse knocked on the door frame. “Sorry to umm… disturb you doctor… the counselors neural patterns have increased.” Odessa nodded and the nurse left. She turned back to look at him. “Told you… can’t catch a break.”

"It seems you have work to attend to." Heinrich nodded as he stoop.

“Nope, the nurse knows what to do.” She pulled him back down.

Heinrich was pulled back down with a rather loud thud.

“You can’t escape that easily…”

"Would you prefer I try other methods of escape?"

“Oh no… there is no escape… no point in trying.” She smiled.

"Very well, I suppose I will have to use other forms of persuasion." Heinrich leaned over and kissed her.

She reached over from the kiss, trying to locate the button panel on her desk. She found it and pressed a button closing the office doors. “If I didn’t know better I would say you don’t want to leave.”

"There are other forms of persuasion then going through a locked door." Heinrich kissed her again.

“Then perhaps you shall teach me your ways.” She leaned into him till they fell laying in the couch, where she lay on top of him. “Persuade me…” She said it like a challenge.

Heinrich slowly wrapped his arms around her, kissing her again. "There isn't much to teach."

Wandering into the ICU, she glanced around looking for the young lieutenant who she had saw come in here earlier. "Lieutenant Steiger, are you in here? I've come to check on how the councillor is doing, the Klingons are requesting another update."

She sat up and looked to the door. “Pardon me love… the warden has arrived.” She dragged her hand from his as she walked over to the door opening it. “Good Afternoon Commander. How might I assist you?”

*Heinrich had recognized the voice from before. He stood from the couch. He didn't want to get in trouble after all. *Augments don't get in trouble.**

"Sorry to interrupt... Whatever it is you've got going on in here. The Klingons are requesting another update on the Councillors condition, has there been any observed changes in his state?"

She turned slightly pink. She nodded and spoke up. “Approximately 20 minutes ago he experienced a jump in neural activity. I anticipate him waking up in the next few days. Vitals have remained stable.”

"That's good to hear. I thought he was awake yesterday? Or am I misremembering?" She said as she ran a finger through the side of her hair. "I'll be sure and tell the Klingons that his condition is improving." Glancing back at the ICU "I forgot to mention earlier, but thanks to yourself and Lieutenant M'ow for cleaning up the ICU, I'm not sure who it was who decided to put the new equipment in here. But thanks for getting this place sorted for me. I appreciate all the extra help you put in, especially with the staffing issues."

“He is conscious but he is not awake.” She responded dryly. “As for the cleaning and the staffing… that is my job… would it not be prudent to perform it?”

"Well it's everyone's job to keep the medbay clean, but some people aren't performing it as well as others, obviously. I just thought I'd show my thanks. I'll let you get back to work." She nodded and headed out of the ICU.

She walked over to a biobed sitting down, resting her arm on her knees. She looked over at the Klingon and then back down at her hands. She took her combadge and rolled it between her fingers.

Heinrich emerged after a few minutes. "What did the commander want?"

She didn't look at him, she just kept spinning her commbadge. She spoke dryly in response. "A wellfare check..."

Heinrich walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"

"I will be..."

"Talk to me."

"What is there to say..."

"You are down, you're spinning your commbadge. Plus you are not looking at me. Clearly you are hiding something the doctor said."

"I made a mistake Heinrich." The commadge came to a sudden stop as she put her finger in front of it. "I let my personal life interfere with my professional life and duties."

"Are you referring to my presence here in sickbay and our earlier interaction."

She didn't say anything, she just sat staring at her reflection in the gold delta.

"Talk to me Odessa....we did say we would work out together."

"There's nothing to talk about... I made a mistake..."

"Do you wish for me to leave?"

"No... I was just about to leave anyway." She stood from the bed and set her commbadge on the nurses desk, exiting to the corridor.

"I will...walk with you."

"If you wish..."

[D] She entered from the corridor and went over to the 'Nurses Station' and signed in for the night shift. The lights remained dim and she muttered about doing mundane tasks to pass the time.

She walked over to check on the Klingon counsellor.

Steiger had picked a rather good time to head over. While most days had been the same - waking and being aware for brief moments of time before sliding back into unawareness again - those bouts of wakefulness had been getting longer and characterised by more movement; the outstretching of a hand, the brief opening of his eyes. Today things felt far more clear: less like his brain had been replaced by mush and more like he was piecing things together. He had worked out, for example, that this was not some Klingon mansion - this was some form of medical facility, and what had caused him to feel as though he couldn't moved wasn't some sort of Klingon party drug, it was presumably a sort of sedative that they had been continually giving him. Things were clearer today, it felt less like he couldn't comprehend anything -- and as he managed to discern the sound of footsteps getting closer, he managed to grumble out something in what was distinctly Klingon-sounding, just rather hoarse.

She walked up to the bed and picked up the PADD next to the bed. She reviewed the nurses reports from the previous days. "Good Morning Councillor, How are you feeling?" She took a tricorder reading as she spoke.

There was another very vague grumble that wasn't particularly discernible. He stopped, breathing out in a low snarl of frustration, before clearing his throat and trying again. His voice was still hoarse - but this time, it was coherent enough for the universal translator to pick up as Klingon and translate. "Like... I was mauled by a targ." The Councillor's gaze then slid sideways from the ceiling to look at Odessa beside him, slowly coming to offer a grin. "How are ...you?"

"Well, better then you it would seem." She smiled, as she reached for a hypo of Animazine Derivative. "Well, good news is... I'm gonna stop sedating you..." She gently took his forearm and pressed the hypo to his brachial artery.

K'gartrern couldn't help but chuckle at that. It was a low, rumbling sound interspersed with dull coughing right now - but somehow, it still gave the impression that normally, he had the sort of rumbling guffaw that could shake the walls of a room. "I would much appreciate that, Qel... I feel I have spent too many days feeling as though my brain was replaced by unlively gagh. Whatever your sedatives are, they are strong... People would like it in the Klingon Empire. For recreational purposes, of course," he then added with another wheezy chuckle.

"I hate to ruin your interpretation, but that was our dullest of sedatives..." She set the hypo down and reviewed the K-12 monitors and when she was satisfied with her readings looked back at the Klingon. "You've been here longer then I've worked here. I'm Doctor. Steiger, I'll be looking after you until you return to your duties."

That hadn't been the sort of statement he was expecting (although he wasn't sure what to expect in general, still feeling somewhat addled.) If that had been their weakest sedative - he had probably taken stronger at parties on Qo'noS - then that meant the haze and sluggishness and feeling like his body was made of lead was just him. Every time he had woken he had tried to take stock of exactly how he felt, what seemed to have been injured and what wasn't, but it seemed impossible each time. "Then I would like to enquire how long you have worked here..." He squinted slightly, thinking. "...And perhaps if you could remind me what happened for me to be in the medical wing of some form of Starfleet craft?"

"Let's take it slow." She pulled up a stool. "You are on board Federation Starbase 777. You were here for the PACT Galactica." She pulled up his records. "There was an explosion, you took a great portion of the impact."

"PACT Galactica..." He muttered, taking a moment to let the pieces fall into place. He had been going for a tour, that was right... And- He huffed out a short exhale at a sudden realisation, seemingly more concerned with it than with whatever had happened to him. "They were meant to be performing the premier of a new Klingon opera. I was looking forward to that."

"Perhaps they will make up for it." She smiled and made some notes about the Klingon's responsiveness to the conversation. "What's important is you are alive."

Next to the Councillor's bed was a tin filled with chilled, homemade Gagh from the chef he was talking to when the explosion went off.

She noticed the tin and realised she forgot to ask if he was hungry. "Would you like something to eat? It seems you have a special treat here..."

"Being alive is what matters..." He stated, and offered a slow shake of his head to the latter part of what she said but still offered an amused smile either way. "Not right now, thank you -- although it is nice to know that someone was thinking of me. I was beginning to wonder if my friends upon Qo'noS had abandoned me here -" it was a joke, characterised by a grin that displayed what were more pointed fangs than teeth, but it did bring up a good point. Why exactly was he here instead of Qo'noS? "-So I appreciate that I have been remembered."

She laughed. "How could you be forgotten... you've been here for weeks... You were starting to become a decoration." She stood and walked to the foot of the bed. "And the Klingon Council... well they check on you almost every Earth hour..."

"So they have been as demanding to you as they normally are to me," he replied, grin never fading. For someone who had almost died, been in a coma for two months, and was still relatively mangled and not recovered, the man was in high spirits. Supposedly, he was just like that all of the time. "I believe I know why they chose for me to remain here instead of taking me back to Qo'noS. Other Klingons would have believed my fate was sealed. As much as I look to join the halls of sto-vo-kor one day, I feel that I have more of a life to live-" he gave Steiger a firm nod (as best he could), even if it felt like it made his brain wobble inside of his skull. "-And for that, I am thankful to you."

"Don't be, I just watch over you. Dr. Dreaxa is more to thank. And trust me... I'm just as surprised they haven't requested us give you back."

"As I say... Had I been sent back, it would likely have been that I was being sent back to die. Our views are not the same when it comes to the medical field - and our technology is not as advanced. I likely would have been left to die, whether that be counted as an honourable death or not. I have a feeling that a friend must have petitioned the Council: as one of those few legitimately-interested KDF medical officers, they can be... Persuasive." For a moment he was quiet - resting his voice perhaps, or slowly taking in the fact that while he very much felt as though he had taken the brunt of an explosion, he was still alive. He made a fist with both hands and unfurled them slowly, as if testing that he could. "And I am glad. There is so much more in our world to experience first."

"Well I am glad that you are here getting better."

"Well, I must get back to my other duties. Just push that button if you need me." She gestured to a red call button beside the bed before returning to the nurses desk.

Vanessa waltzed into the room hoping she wouldn't be magically poofed again. She walked over to the nurses station. "Whatcha doing Dess?"

She looked up from the desk. "I'm working Vanessa. Something you could get used to."

She leaned on the desk. "Such a boring soul Aunt Dess. It's my time off... otherwise Dagis would be on the prowl..."

Her glare snapped to her. "Vanessa! So etwas können Sie nicht sagen!" (Vanessa! You can not say such things!)

"Oh you and Auntie Angel were always soooo boring..." She had slurred her speech and was barely able to stand while leaning.

She stood and walked around the desk to her niece. "You are drunk... return to your quarters or I will call security..."

She waved her hand at her aunt turning away to the door. "Yeah yeah... I know the drill..." She disappeared through the door.

It was with quiet footsteps that he walked into the darkened ICU, arrival only being noticeable by the sound of the doors opening and closing as he walked inside just enough to allow them to shut again. It was with a whisper that he spoke, cautious of disturbing either the ward's current occupant or anyone presently working. Glancing over to the area which housed the work stations, he gave a brief wave and started making his way over. "Hey, sorry to bother you - I was wondering if you had happened to see the pharmacist recently? They seem to have vanished, but it's a pretty urgent case-" he gestured towards the doors then, "-and everyone out there is occupied, so I couldn't ask them."

She was only slightly startled by the hissing of the doors but she looked up from the nurses station to see a rather recognizable face. She spoke with a soft and gentle tone matching his whisper. “Good afternoon counselor… I umm haven’t seen the pharmacist no. Perhaps I could assist you?” Through her whisper her accent was still quite strong but hopefully he would understand her. (edited)

It seemed that his reputation as a counsellor preceded him. He could presume that he had seen this medical officer - presumably one of the intensivists - around the medical bay already but just never spoken to her... But when he thought about it, even though the dim light she did seem somewhat familiar. He definitely must have seen her around. "Ah, no, but thank you -- I just need to chase up a submitted patient prescription that hasn't been completed, that's all. I'm hazarding a guess that it got lost in the system somewhere."

“I could look it up for you?” She offered. “It’s okay, it’s within my duties.”

"Oh, well-" the offer was there, he might as well take it considering this officer had been kind enough to volunteer. "-Only if you have a moment, but it would be appreciated - even if just to see if it definitely went through. It's under the name Preston, Isla. I just need pharmacy to confirm and authorise; right now she still can't replicate the prescription at all, so I know they haven't added it to the parameters on her file."

She turned to the nurses terminal and signed in. “Computer, access pharmaceutical records for Isla Preston.”

Deciding that lingering to the side of the room wasn't the most efficient right now, he paced the rest of the way across so he could look upon the console as well - but stepping closer to the medical officer (whose name he still hadn't gathered) had him hit with a very strange sense of déjà vu. He tried to convince himself that he had just seen her around the medical bay, that was all... But some steadily-progressing sense of anxiety was telling him that there was more to it than that. Instead of asking, he focussed his attention on the console. He was just being stupid - wound up from events earlier in the day, surely. "Input in 2410, input in 2411... There, 2412. It has gone through - they just haven't gotten to it yet. ...I suppose pharmacy are just as short staffed as the rest of us."

She looked up from the terminal to the counsellor. In the dim lights he looked more familiar then he did upon entry. She couldn't put a hold on it. "I umm, I can have a temporary prescription delivered to them for now..." She had lost focus on her task trying to determine the strange resemblance this man had.

"That would be much appreciated if you could, thank you..." Vince replied, although he had noticed how the woman had trailed off. It almost seemed as if she was just as confused as he was, and that only served to provide fuel to the fire for that paranoia of his that something wasn't quite normal here. He was quite certain that her face and her voice were familiar for some sort of bad reason - and perhaps Steiger felt the same. The bags beneath his eyes were more pronounced, the white patches to both sides of his hair new, but the voice and accent was still the same and it was still very much him. "I - I'm sorry if this is an odd question, ma'am: but have we met before?`"

She send the commands via the terminal and returned her gaze to him. "I, I was about to ask you the same. We are roommates but even still I've only seen you in passing." She analysed him from her seat. There was no doubt in her mind she knew him... well perhaps a younger him. "I feel though, that we met much earlier then that."

"Oh - of course we are!" He laughed at that, and shook his head, but the laugh still had a dash of nervousness to it and Steiger's end statement only served to set him more on edge. He had seen her name on the plaque at their quarters, but they always seemed to be in at different times. Steiger. Odessa Steiger. Odessa... Vince had thought it was a rare name, one that he had recognised... And as the pieces began to click together, he could feel his heart beginning to race. Of course it hadn't clicked before. She was missing part of her surname. It had been Steiger-Appenzeller before: a name he had tried to forget, and one that he hadn't been able to. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. It was very lucky that the lighting was dark, otherwise you may well have caught the way the colour drained from his face, leaving him looking more ashen than anything. They did know one another from before. Oh, Dios, they did. This was not good. This was not good. This was not- "I - I should-" Typical that he tripped over his words when all he wanted was to convey that he should very much leave, and preferably before Steiger-half-missing-surname came to the same realisation that he just did. Frantically leaving bad situations seemed to be the thing of the day. He had already taken a couple of steps backwards before speaking again. "I should let you get back to your work. Thank you, for your time, really-"

"Is something wrong counsellor?" She wasn't as quick to convey the connection, she only recognised a face, she had no name to connect the dots. She stood from the desk walking around towards him.

"No, no, not at all," he replied very swiftly after drawing in a sharp inhale. If it hadn't been for him being very well trained in forcing yourself back to neutrality in tough situations, then otherwise he would have seemed like far more of an anxious wreck right now. He breathed out slowly and held his hands together in front of himself, fingers lacing together tightly as he very much tried to ignore how he could practically hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears. "I've just taken up too much of your time, that's all - I appreciate you must be very busy here."

"Busy? Not really..." She noticed him get rather tense physically, but emotionally semi relax... she might not be an empath, but she could read body language. "You are nervous, why?"

What was better: leaving and having her eventually come to the realisation later anyway, or just owning up and telling her now? The former was conditional; she might not remember at all... But if she did, was it fair to have left her to work it out when he clearly already had -- and imagine the torment which would come from that. He needed to think more like a counsellor and less like a nervous wreck... And so that's what he did, drawing in another slow inhale as if to steel himself, and practically letting his persona slide into that only-partial guise considering how that diplomatic counselling persona of his may well just be him now. "I will admit, ma'am, that I am -- because I do believe you are correct that we have met one another before, but I fear it was under circumstances that neither of us would wish to talk about." (edited)

So she was correct, she knew this man... and judging by his response... he seemed very uncomfortable with the idea. "Well you of all people counsellor very well know that now I very much wish to know." She leaned back against the nurses station, folding her arms in front of her. She was sure he wasn't going to budge, so she still made an attempt to figure it out. "Counsellor... where were you stationed before Starbase 777? Perhaps we shared a previous assignment?" She knew it was false, this was her first Starfleet posting, but she had a suspicion nagging at her.

"Earth Spacedock," he answered quite truthfully. He had wound up working there part time while attending lecturers on counselling and psychiatry with the other half of his time, all just so he could retrain. Before that, however, had been the USS Sinoussi... One of the medical fleet's dedicated response ships, and one that had responded to an incident on Mars around four years ago. Everyone always expected the worst from incident on Mars -- they were all so paranoid following the attack on Utopia Planitia which had left the planet burning for years. This incident had hardly been of the same scale... But it had still been bad - and the worst of it had belonged to the woman stood in front of him. Vince could all but see the flickering of amber flames casting shadows up the walls, taste the smoke, hear the deafening whirring of equipment as they cut through the debris... And then he could feel his hands upon Steiger's upper arms - himself to the left, a Security officer to the right- as they all but dragged Steiger away from the one who they would later find out was her wife. What good would concealing the truth be. She would work it out eventually - and then, concealing it would have made it even worse. His tone dropped, voice solemn. "We know one another from Mars, ma'am."

Her expression immediately fell, and though it wasn't real, a knife removed from her heart, renewing a closed wound. "Mars...?" Her accent became choked as she looked back at this man, his features morphing into that of a younger Doctor... one she could clearly recognise... "You.. you were there? You...you were part of the rescue party... you-" She froze... he was the one who pulled her away... the one who didn't think twice... he... her hands had become clenched, as she tried with every ounce of strength not to lunge at this man...

"I told you," he spoke gently but still with that somewhat sombre tone, slowly raising a hand as if in a gesture of calm. It didn't take a Betazoid to sense the very sudden tension in the air, or to analyse the way that Steiger's posture had changed. "That it isn't something that either of us would wish to talk about... But it would be unfair to keep that from you. You deserve to know... And if you should wish to talk about it, then-" Then what? He would talk about it? It was the last thing that he wanted to do. Mars and Luven were long behind him and they had been long since worked through - until now, when PACT Galactica had brought everything to the surface again. "-Then I would listen."

She looked up at him with disbelief. Ah yes, playing the counsellor... I'll be there when you need me. "The same way you listened to my wife's screams for help... with deaf ears!?"

Vince couldn't help but shake his head before running a hand across his face in exasperation. Of course she was angry. No, not angry, she was desolate; and she had every right to be. But how did they fix this? How did they de-escalate, how did they reconcile? How did he fix this when he had been one of the team who left Steiger's wife to die? "We both know... How it works. We've both done the training. She was trapped, and the doors had to be sealed. Reviewing the situation in training does not make it any easier... But sometimes, it has to be one person to save the rest." It was a horrid statement, one that had crossed the line of counselling into that of sheer protocol - but what else could he say? What else could he do but reiterate that Steiger would know it had been a necessity... That she knew they didn't ignore her wife's pleas. They had left her because they had to. (edited)

"Oh save me the mantra..." She paced about the room refusing to look at him... she knew the procedure... she knew it more then any... but it was unfair... unfair to her... unfair to her family. "I sat through days of legal hearings... I heard the verdict..." She made a gesture resembling a rainbow above her head. "Civilian Doctor Lost In Mars Explosion... Awarded civilian honours by Starfleet! Do those honours change the fact that she is dead! NO!" She collapsed to the floor in front of one of the biobeds in tears. "She was right there! I had her! I could have saved her!"

"No, you couldn't have." It was such an awful thing to reiterate, but it was true. Slowly he pivoted, watching Steiger pace before slumping to the floor against the base of one of the biobeds. "And you know that you couldn't have. How many times have you played it over in your head? How many times have you thought you could do something, just because you were there? But then logically you know there was nothing you could do. You know that she was pinned, and that you had no time, and-" It was lucky that Vince was was cut off by the sound of both of their commbadges chirping a specific high tone simultaneously - he was well aware that this conversation was swiftly derailing, and it was largely because of himself. Staying quiet, he scratched at the back of one hand while he waited for the second acknowledgement tone that someone had picked up the job, waited, waited... And when no second tone came he tapped his commbadge (perhaps a little more aggressively than he should), once again taking another bloody physical medicine job himself. "I'll deal with it," he stated and was already stalking about the door while the commbadge relayed the automated message - 'Patient: M'ow, Hsarr. Location: GP wing, sickbay'...

She stood and brushed herself off. She wasn't composed yet but she grabbed a Physician Medkit and a tricorder. "I'm coming, it's my responsibility." She followed him to General Practice.

[D] After a night of drowning in hot cocoa and depression she sat at the nurses station banging her head against the wall behind her chair humming "All of the Stars."

Finishing her song she replicates a bowl of Chicken Noodle Soup and eats at the nurses desk surrounded by about 13 empty cups of cocoa...

[D] Finishing her shift she handed the desk over to a incoming charge nurse and made her wait out.

[D] As I forgot where I was... Odessa entered the ICU singing "Home" by Edward Sharpe. "Oh, home, let me come home, Home is wherever I'm with you, Oh, home, let me come home, Home is wherever I'm with you..."

Dagis was laying on a biobed in the ICU as a precaution as her injuries could’ve been far worse, and the staff didn’t want her to strain anything for now. Security had come in to guard her, as per what you’d expect for a Section agent.

And having replaced the two existing Security officers not too long later was Giles. It didn't take long for rumour to spread (especially considering how he worked on the same deck as the brig,) and as soon as he had heard what had happened to Dagis he had headed for the medical bay. It wasn't as though he was busy doing anything else - in fact he had swiftly found that he was rather useless during this crisis, having briefly messed around with the comms system to see if he could get restore it to full operational status again before realising that there was an actual comms officer also on the job. Not wanting to get in their way, he had stopped, and eventually found his way here. Him not having anything to do had actually helped to encourage the other two officers to relinquish the duty of standing guard. Surely they had better things to do, what with a whole multitude of civilians causing a fuss, and it wasn't as if he was doing anything else... So the two had left, leaving him there to guard Dagis instead. It was sat to the right of Dagis's biobed that he had remained since; one leg crossed over the other, PADD balanced upon one knee as he idly worked through a handful of CRCO sudoku puzzles just for something to do. While the previous two officers had seemed both bored and uncomfortable with the surroundings they were presently in, Giles had no qualms about being here at all. Medical bays were practically a second home to him and in truth it was probably safer here than it was anywhere else on the station right now - a multitude of decks had lights flickering, but here, the lights remained off. As he sat there he couldn't help but wonder if those officers had been here to guard other people from Dagis (i.e., to stop her from doing anything when she awoke,) or if they were protecting her from somewhere else. Apparently her attacker had been a completely random Nausicaan, but what if there was more to it than that? Giles couldn't help but wonder.

Dagis, naturally, was blissfully unaware of Jericho's presence next to her, as she lay in her biobed wearing a 25th century hospital gown. The Ferengi was unconscious due to her surgery, potentially getting more sleep than she had naturally been able to recently thanks to hundreds of thoughts going through her mind. It was only after the Trill had been sat next to her for almost two hours that she finally started coming to. She was quite restless up until the point she opened her eyes, slowly to start with, but very quickly opening them wide and glancing around at the unfamiliar room, lifting her head a little in the process. Panic started to set in, her heartrate and breathing getting quicker and her body getting more tense until she caught a glance of the man sat next to her. Upon seeing Giles, and knowing it was him, Dagis calmed down again, knowing she was somewhere safe, despite not actually knowing where the hell she was. Her only possible guess was a medical facility, which meant she wasn't dead. Alive was good. She put her head back down for a moment, sighing with relief, but also a degree of tiredness, before looking back over to Jericho. "Hey..." The woman greeted quietly as she made eye contact, still feeing a bit out of it, but not enough to where it would impede her ability to at least say hello to the man that had, so far, been nothing but nice to her. As it was, she already knew he didn't have to be here right now, but that he had clearly chosen to be. That meant a lot to her. (edited)

It was only at the sound of the biobed's readings suddenly picking up - accompanied by a whole ton of beeping from the machine - that Giles realised Dagis had awoken. In an instant his attention had snapped away from the PADD and was upon Dagis instead. He almost might have looked ominous with those flickering eyes looking towards Dagis through the dark of the medical bay, but at least the glowing Trill spots confirmed who it was. "Oh, wait, you probably shouldn't move-" was his first statement, reaching out a hand in reassurance but then hesitating before actually stopping the Ferengi, afraid of hurting her. It wasn't as though a hand on her arm would do any damage considering it was the chest that she had received that stab-wound to, but still; you couldn't be too cautious. Instead he waited, giving her a moment to lay back and calm down -- and when after a moment she spoke, he couldn't help but smile. "Good morning - or, that being said, good whatever time of day it is. How do you feel..?"

It admittedly took Dagis a good few seconds to process what Jericho said to her, but once she had she responded. "To be honest, I feel like shit..." The woman responded honestly. Her injury was causing discomfort despite it being healed, her mind was only now starting to properly recall what had happened, and on top of all of that she was tired. "But I suppose it's normal to feel that way after you had a blade go through your chest." She added meekly. The Ferengi's behaviour as a whole was quite different from how she had been during her previous interaction with the Trill. She was quiet, calm, speaking without falling over her words, and above all else not crying, which was more than prominent the last time they spoke. "I... Don't really remember anything after I was transported here. I barely even remember being transported here... I'm going to go out on a limb and assume I had surgery of some sort." Dagis said in a somewhat light-hearted tone, or at least lighter than how she had been previously.

"I would be surprised if you didn't feel awful considering how you, as you say, were stabbed in the chest," the Trill stated, regarding Dagis with a look that seemed to be half-amusement, half-concern. "It's something that I really wouldn't advise, I mean -- I wouldn't advise getting stabbed anywhere in the first place, but your chest... Generally contains important things that should not be stabbed." It was obvious in the way he spoke that the vague jests were an attempt to distract Dagis from everything else: considering how she had gone from mental torment one day to physical torment the next, Giles figured that she could be doing with anything but thinking about all of that just now. The only issue was that he wasn't very good at the half-hearted jokes, and Dagis had asked about the following, so... "I only know what I've been told by that surgeon, but apparently you were transported directly here from the brig. And yes, there was some sort of surgery; but they said it was a swift job, and that thankfully your Nausicaan friend had managed to avoid mangling you entirely. Not to say that you're mangled even somewhat, but- Oh, you know what I mean."

Dagis nodded slightly in response to Jericho's comments on vital organs, appreciating just how lucky she was to have somehow avoided anything serious, and again nodded slightly when the Trill mentioned the surgery being swift, which was always a good thing. It was when the man in front of her mentioned mangling, and then immediately tried to fix the fact he basically said she was slightly manged and fumbled over his words in the process that the Ferengi smiled ever so slightly, appreciating his attempts nonetheless. "I know what you mean." She affirmed, still smiling slightly, which would be the most she'd smiled in quite a while. It was a tired smile, but a genuine and warm one. "I'm just glad this isn't a medical facility on Ferenginar right now. All of this medical care would've been very expensive." The woman said quietly, but light-heartedly, as she managed to maintain her small smile. At least her sense of humour was somewhat in tact despite all that she had gone through. "I'd have to sue that Nausicaan for damages."

"And something tells me that the Nausicaan wouldn't be able to pay for said damages," Giles replied, tapping upon the PADD briefly before turning it to face Dagis. Despite having it there so she could read, he went ahead to point out the information anyway - he was aware that Ferengi eyesight wasn't up to the same standard as other species, and he was more than aware of how blurry everything could be for a while after being out from surgery. "Our fellow, Batz... Batzitkz? Is well known in the Klingon Empire and related mercenary groups for being quite severely in debt - including to a handful of high-ranking officials themselves. Supposedly they have been ignoring the problem and continues to spend what money they do acquire on going around different starbases, causing a ruckus and then moving on to the next place. Needless to say, the Klingon Empire will be glad to have them back." He stopped then for a second, looking back towards Dagis again with a quizzucal look instead of focussing on the PADD that he had turned slightly sideways so the two of them could see it. "That is, unless you want to press charges against them in a Federation court of law. I'm sure that could be arranged, considering they did stab you and all..." Although given recent events, Giles could logically presume that Dagis would have enough trials coming up with her own, never mind one for someone else too.

Dagis looked at the PADD in an attempt to read what was on its screen, but she couldn't even slightly make anything out. She was very grateful for Jericho reading out what was needed, and listened to what he said with the occasional nod in response. Once the Trill mentioned pressing charges the Ferengi's mind started thinking the concept through. They stabbed her, and they weren't a nice person, but would what the Federation might sentence them to be anything in comparison to what they might receive in the Klingon Empire for being in debt? Dagis doubted it. "Honestly, I don't think it's worth pressing charges. The Klingon Empire would probably punish them enough for not paying off their debts. And honestly? I'd prefer to avoid courtrooms right now... Sooner or later I'll be in one, anyway..." The woman said, smile fading as she spoke of her own inevitable court martial. She remained silent for a moment, before speaking again. "The last time I was in one was a bad enough experience as it is... I don't want to be in one if I don't have to." She explained quietly. Dagis' mind briefly drifted to if her favour for Vincent was still being worked on or not, but she quickly snapped away from that thought again as she didn't want to think of the Section, or what Vincent might think of her. "You know, your ability to get this sort of information is impressive. At least, I think it is." She said, her small, soft smile returning now.

Her response was as expected, and it even seemed as though there was more too it considering the mention of a previous court trial as well. She was quite right in that the Klingon Empire would have the Nausicaan punished. They would be more harsh on the criminal than the Federation ever would be, especially considering how they had been disrupting the peace within Federation space. Everyone knew that things had been on a fine line when it came to the political peace between the two factions, and he doubted the Klingon Empire would let one miscellaneous Nausicaan start messing things up for them. Giles figured that was enough talk about the criminal, though - he didn't want to dwell on talk of the person who had quite literally stabbed the COO. Instead he picked up on the latter part, and of how that faint smile of hers returned. That was what he wanted to keep up instead of them devolving into some topic that was upsetting. "Well... I suppose it's my job to get information. Not as if I had to do my job in order to get this - I just have a way of accessing a couple of directories for other factions. It's not hacking them, I promise, it's all legitimate - after the establishment of the Khitomer Alliance there's been more open communication when it comes to things like criminality on faction borders, so it wasn't difficult to find a BOLO for the Nausicaan. It's uhm... A perk of the job as opposed to doing the job, I suppose." At that he chuckled and offered a half-grin as he set the PADD down, glancing sideways back to Dagis. "I didn't have to do much, honest. In fact I haven't done much at all over the past few hours, considering how my skills aren't much required during technological difficulties on the station. Look - it's so bad that I'm running out of sudoku to work through."

Dagis listened along to what Giles said, occasionally nodding in response once more. The Ferengi hadn’t realised, but just the Trill talking alone was enough to keep her mind occupied, enjoying just being able to have some semblance of a normal conversation without fear of the truth about who she was working for coming out. Her smile returned once more when Jericho smiled as he mentioned the perk. This was nice. This was what she wanted. Just a tiny snippet of normalcy. A small chuckle escaped the woman’s mouth when the man next to her mentioned running out of sudoku, when even she wasn’t expecting to experience today. “I know of a few good word searches if that’s of any help, not that they’re anything like sudoku, mind you. Although, most I do are in Ferengi.” Dagis said said with a soft smile. “I’ve never been that good at sudoku, personally. I’m decent with crosswords- That is, if I even know what they’re talking about to begin with. I rarely understand any from Earth. Human culture is quite bizarre in some ways, and yet familiar in others.” She added.

"I'll confess that I know only a handful of words in the Ferengi language," he admitted, hoping it didn't sound too rude of them. So often it was that language was a common factor between two people and he would have liked it to be the same here, but trust it to be one of the languages he had never had to learn. The Ferengi rarely ended up with activity illicit in the way that it threatened Federation safety (nornally it just seemed to be them swindling people instead,) so there had never been a reason for him to learn it for work-related purposes. "If you had anything saved that's in Standard then I could take a look - or in any other language you might know, I mean, only if I know, but if we discussed it then we both might know--" With that he stopped and set his head back against the wall, taking a slow breath in and exhaling equally slowly... But after a moment he chuckled slightly, and offered a shake of his head. "I know how to communicate effectively, I swear." "Wordsearches and crosswords aside, you are right about the culture on Earth. I've lived there for a good few years now and yet so much of it still eludes me: all of the holidays, and cultural identity resurgence for individual countries, and such a vast history... Don't get me started on their multitudes of languages and how they have Standard yet still insist on using individual tongues. Most planets have it dulled down to one language and a handful of dialects, or at least only three languages at max.. And then you have Earth. Even Standard is elusive enough. ...Ironic that I find Standard elusive, I know, coming from the Trill with the Human name."

Dagis continued with her soft smile as Jericho spoke, not minding at all that he didn't know much Ferengi. When he mentioned if she had any saved in other languages she nodded in response. Her smile only grew when he mentioned this ability to communicate effectively. "I have a few in Standard, yeah, and an auto-regenerating phrase quiz in Tamarian. It makes you guess which out of the options on screen is an actual metaphor." She said as she continued to smile. "I actually speak Tamarian, the majority of Standard, Ferenginar, and a bit of Standard Sign Language, the former almost never being useful, and yet is so fascinating." The woman added. It was obvious from how she spoke that she enjoyed the language of metaphors. As the Trill continued to speak the Ferengi nodded along, entirely agreeing with everything he said regarding Earth's culture. She chuckled a little in response to the irony associated with the man's name, but she didn't actually think anything of it, especially considering how she could now easily guess why he changed his name. 777_divider

13:12

"Yeah! Earth culture is really diverse and complicated, but that's what I love about it. I went to Earth for the Academy and to get my citizenship, and for what time I was there I really enjoyed it. To start with some of the other Cadets didn't really understand why a Ferengi was wanting to join Starfleet, and that's honestly understandable - It isn't exactly a financially profitable life choice - But, once they knew that I don't think life is about profit I made a good few friends, and they taught me about their cultures. Not all of them were Human, of course, but quite a few of them were. Oh, and I love the winter holidays! The gift giving, the zero desire to profit off of eachother, it's truly beautiful in so many different ways." Dagis said, sounding quite enthusiastic about it all, all while smiling as she spoke. In truth, everything about Earth, and its cultures, and its holidays were a dream come true for a Ferengi that hated capitalism and cultures that judge you for who you are. Regardless of Earth's past, and the atrocities she heard about from one source of another, they had moved past that and bettered themselves, and that was always admirable.

Giles sat there quietly, simply listening to Dagis speak of languages and cultures and her experiences and what she enjoyed - and as he stayed there simply listening, he soon found that he was enjoying this. If you took away the circumstances and everything that was happening in the background - Dagis being stabbed, her having been coerced by Section 31, the threat of her family being harmed - then this... This was actually quite nice. It was nice just to talk; about anything, and everything, completely random topics of conversation that may not have come up at any other point. So far their only conversations had revolved around work (both the good work and the bad work,) so this... Was different, and this was nice. "It is interesting to think that said winter holiday went from being something founded in Human religion, and then it became solely about commercialism, and then following their last war it slowly evolved again into exactly what you say - being about kindness and giving instead of just blatant greed. I mean, there's no secret that the greed stemmed from the religion itself, all coming from the corruption of the church and how you could buy away your sins, for example, but-" It wasn't the first time that he had cut himself off during this conversation, and it likely wouldn't be the last. It was such a rarity to just... Converse like this. "Apologies. I... Never had much opportunity to study the culture of other species before, what with the Trill being so enigmatic and all, so what I have researched by myself I can be... Overly enthusiastic about." 777_divider

13:37

Once again he set his head back against the wall, this time staring aimlessly across at the reflection of the biobed monitor which shone off the opposite wall. "I must admit, that is something that I envy you for. Starfleet Academy. It must have been incredible: being immersed in such culture, knowledge, and learning; meeting all of these different people and learning so much... It must have been the experience of a lifetime."

Just as Jericho had listened to her, Dagis listened to him, enjoying just having a nice conversation with someone who she knew would never judge her for anything she spoke about. As the Trill spoke enthusiastically about what he had learnt she continued to smile, and when he apologised she immediately responded. "There's no need to apologise, Jericho. I enjoy listening to people talk about topics they're enthusiastic about, especially when I myself am also enthusiastic about it. We share the enthusiasm for Human culture, that's for sure." The Ferengi said warmly, albeit still sounding quite tired and talking quietly. As the man next to her mentioned the Academy her memories of her time there came to the front of her mind. She genuinely felt bad that he hadn't gotten to experience it, because she really enjoyed herself there. "The fact you didn't get to go to the Academy is a genuine shame." She responded sympathetically. "But yes, it really was a great experience. All of it was. The training was great, the tutors were good at what they did, and the Cadets... Well, you had all sorts there. Good ones, bad ones, ignorant ones, arrogant ones, but we were all there with the same goal: To become Starfleet officers."

"The latter part sounds familiar," he replied while casting a sidewards glance to Dagis (and was content to see her still smiling, something which made him glad and relieved in turn). "Just replace the end goal with 'to learn' in general and then it sounds exactly like university... Although I'd wager that a good number weren't there to learn, they were just there for the social life. Something that crosses multiple cultures, I've heard," he then added with a chuckle. "We had exactly the same: the genuinely decent people, the rude, the downright pretentious... And it's very hard to avoid pretentious people on Trill. Not to slander our own culture, but a very large part of it is built upon who can be better than one another; so when you take a whole group of people who had fought to get into a good university and intended on fighting to be at the top of their class, it could be... Difficult." 777_divider

18:49

For a moment the Trill was quiet, musing over things - he didn't want to end up taking this conversation down some boring or negative path, but there was no point in changing the topic considering how they had been speaking of culture anyway. "There were people always socialising and networking, and then you had the issue of people trying to be joined. Your entire life when going through the selection process revolves around you showing you're better than anyone else in any way: in terms of physical well-being, social status, intelligence, the lot. People were consistently trying to one up each other - and if someone who didn't intend upon being joined fared better than them in any way, then they weren't very happy." He couldn't help but grimace at the memory of being pushed down the stairs of the Mossid Building by good old Kenir Raghan only half an hour before one of their third year final exams. In order to get top marks he had decided to take the person predicted to have the top marks out of the picture. Jericho had been allowed to do the exam the next day instead, dictating the answers instead of writing them considering having multiple broken bones. "I wonder how infuriated some of them would be to find out I - of all people - ended up joined and they didn't. Not to endorse pettiness, of course."

The Ferengi nodded along with what Jericho said, continuing to enjoy the conversation despite some of the subject matter being less cheery. The ability to just have a conversation about life and experiences was a very nice change of pace, so Dagis really didn't mind what the two spoke about. The woman couldn't help but smile in response to the Trill's comment about not endorsing pettiness. "Of course." She responded in kind. "Honestly, the whole 'people trying to be better than eachother' thing feels very familiar. Everyone on Ferenginar is always trying to be more successful than eachother, make more profit than eachother. They'll stop at nothing to be the best in their field, even if it means 'bending' the law. Scam? Never. 'Didn't read the fine print'? Always." She said with a slight chuckle. She truly hated the capitalistic mentality, but she shouldn't help but laugh at it all the same. Unfortunately, Dagis' mind couldn't help but briefly drift to the thought of her never getting to have one of these conversations again if she got charged for her crimes, but she tried to shake it off before it took over completely. She was going to enjoy this moment without negative thoughts. "When I first came here I had one of those Latinum deposit boxes at the entrance to my office. I knew this was a big place for business, so I wanted to blend in with other Ferengi and didn't want them to judge me if they had to visit me. I had customised it to say "deposit Latinum and bad vibes here", but I ended up removing the box entirely. It's still in my quarters, though..." No negative thoughts! "I remember someone visiting me and putting a hair pin in there instead of Latinum. I told them they could keep it." The woman said, gesturing to her smooth head in the process with a half grin.

That was another thing that transcended the cultures of different worlds, then: people constantly trying to one-up each other. He hoped that sort of thing didn't happen at the likes of Starfleet Academy, but he knew how competitive people could be. It was even the same at Intelligence sometimes; there were always people who didn't take tasks to be a 'work together to ensure the safety of the Federation' type thing, instead it was a 'this is a competition to see who can break this first'. It became even worse when you had things like encrypted messages that took months to break, needing pieced apart and broken down before it could be worked out. In an environment where their staff count dwindled and the Computer continued to learn to be better than them, people often found that they wanted to prove themselves in order to keep their job. Sometimes it was down to people being ignorant - and at other times, it was simply down to necessity. He listened intently at the talk of Dagis going out of her way to have a deposit box in her office solely to fit in with other Ferengi - and it genuinely took him a moment before he realised why she had told that person to keep the hair pin. He probably would still be clueless had Dagis not gestured to her head with the traditional Ferengi lack of hair. Giles very much fit the bill of someone who was intellectually smart but had no common sense otherwise. "Yes, I suppose that wouldn't have been of any use to you other than if you wanted to sell it. You know, I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing that you had that box there - it might have been so you could fit in, but there's nothing wrong with retaining some culture. Everyone knows it's unlikely that a person would just have latinum to donate (and be willing to)... There's nothing wrong with sort of... Taking your culture but changing it to make it more you."

Dagis once again nodded along with what Jericho said, thinking about her culture as a whole and what good parts there actually was that she could try and focus on. "I'll admit, I've been so caught up in everything, - The Section stuff, and disliking capitalism and Ferengi society, - That I think I forgot to focus on the good parts." The Ferengi admitted. "If I ever get the opportunity again I think I'll rebrand the box so it just has 'bad vibes' written on it instead. That way, it's the same as the Latinum deposit boxes, but without me expecting any actual Latinum. You know, Jericho, you've got me thinking about what other good parts of my culture I could focus on, or perhaps even evolve to modernise it." The woman said with a smile. "I still follow most of the Rules of Acquisition, but that's only because most of them make sense outside of the context of profit." She added with a slight chuckle. 777_divider

19:57

"A good example would be rule 272 - Always inspect the merchandise before making a deal. Another good one would be rule 248 - The definition of insanity is trying the same failed scheme & expecting different results. I mean, I know it's not the actual definition, but it's still good advice." Dagis said with a smile. "Oh, and 288 - Never get into anything that you can't get out of. I think that applies to the Jeffries Tubes, and any other tight space, for that matter." The woman joked, her smile remaining. "Admittedly, an awful lot of the rules applied to me a lot more before people found out about who I was working for, but I can still live by a few of them."

For someone who had tried his hardest to learn other cultures, he had never properly managed (it wasn't as though his line of work offered much opportunity - if you were learning anything from another world it was their language and their cryptological methods). It was as such that he actually listened to those rules of acquisition with intent. They actually stirred memories, briefly feeling as though he may well have come across some of them before - or that Azrii likely had while her and Diabolo were doing dealings with people. Dagis's interpretation of the rules were more than likely to be better than that of anyone who had ever done business with Azrii and Diabolo, and so he swiftly shook that memory aside and focussed on Dagis instead. "I'm sure that there are a few that can be applied to normal life outside of in a business setting. Your one about the Jefferies Tubes is right - I've heard the talk of how people keep clambering about them as if they're in a playground. I don't see the appeal at all," he stated and gave a mock shudder, "it surely wouldn't take much for you to just... Get stuck in them. No thank you." As he spoke he caught sight of shadows in the doorway, and it was a moment later that one of the Security officers from earlier poked their head in and made a gesture to the Trill as if to say 'time to leave.' Either they had voluntarily returned from the break that he had indefinitely sent them on, or they had worked out that he wasn't actually a security guard... Or things had been sorted outside and so they hadn't been too busy to not be here. "It would appear that this is my cue to leave," he stated with a sigh and stood (reluctantly,) giving a look of distaste towards the officer's back before turning back to Dagis. "I suppose I should leave you to rest - our friends in the doorway there will keep watch for now. I hope your recovery goes smoothly... And please: no more getting stabbed."

Dagis listened along quite happily with what Jericho said, and chuckled once again at his mock shudder. The Ferengi was actually quite invested in the current conversation, so much so that she had let her usual guard down and hadn’t really noticed the Security officers show up. That is, until the Trill pointed them out. The woman sighed in almost complete synchronisation with the man standing up next to her. “They really know how to interrupt a decent conversation.” She said, trying to keep things light-hearted, despite the fact, internally, she started worrying if this would be the last normal conversation she would get for many years to come. “Do you think they’re here to stop me doing something, or to stop something being done to me? I’d hope both, otherwise they’d be bad at their jobs.” Dagis said with a slight chuckle, only partially joking. “I shall try my best to not piss off any more Nausicaans… Or Klingons… Or, well, anyone else, but I can’t guarantee not getting stabbed if someone tries something like this again.” She said with a smile. She didn’t really want to think about being stabbed, but at the same time she knew how to make a joke about it, and that joking would at least distract her from the doom and gloom. “I hope this won’t be the last time we get to talk. I really enjoyed our conversation.” The woman said sincerely, giving Jericho a warm smile as she did, trying her best to not show her internal fear of it not happening. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Mo entered the room with a PADD that was not his, a bag of nuts, and Jericho in tow. He told the guards to bugger off politely, even though being alone in a room with two ex Sec 31 agents made the paranoid part of his mind scream, because it would be worth the risk if it made Dagis more likely to open up a little more. It didn't take long to find her, presumably, though what he first said would depend on whether or not she was awake.

Dagis had, in fact, been asleep, until the point where Mo told the guards to leave. The Ferengi was on edge, jumpy, even, and so the noise of talking alone woke her up. She practically bolted upright, before realising just who had entered, and with Jericho in tow. She sighed and lay down once more. "Hello, Captain." The woman greeted quietly and tiredly.

"'Ey, Dagis." Mo cronched another cashew. Then he looked around at Jericho, Dagis, and himself, and sighed internally. The chances of anyone in this room being able to crack open a walnut were slim to none. "I'm sure you can guess what I'm here for." Questioning. Hopefully a more productive one, this time. Some might call it an interrogation, but that didn't really fit his methods or motives.

Dagis had almost instinctively been studying the Captain's actions. "I am going to assume you're not here to watch a holofilm, despite the snacks." The woman responded tiredly. At least her sense of humour was in tact. "But yes, I know why you're here. I'd quite like to get on with it to be perfectly honest, because the sooner you have the information you need the sooner my family are safer."

"Understood. I'll get right on it, then. First of all: the name of your, uh, inductor. And literally anythin' else you think might be pertinent information about 'em. Or anythin' pertinent about anythin', really." Jericho was in the corner of the room, probably, so he'd have two walls behind him, as Mo had observed was his habit, and he imagined he was giving Dagis some of comforting look. Or perhaps conspiring. Perhaps his death was nigh, alone in the ICU with a bag of nuts. They could pass it off as an allergic reaction. Perfect plan. (edited)

There was no conspiring from the Trill, and thankfully for Mo, there hadn't been any plans of assassination attempts discussed between himself and Dagis. There had already been enough assassination things this week. Giles remained where he had taken up position to the left-hand side of the door, looking like some ghostly sentinel there with his flickery eyes and glowing spots, quietly observing the conversation.

"Oh, uhh... Lieutenant Rivera. Human, male, black hair, white skin. Probably about forty-ish years old." Dagis answered honestly. The Ferengi's barely awake mind kept drifting to really anything bad it could possibly think of, but she tried to focus, occasionally glancing at Jericho to reassure herself. "I don't know if that's his real name or not." She added. "I uhh... I have more information on my PADD if I haven't been locked out, but I'd have to unlock that. Someone would also have to get me it. I mean, I have more information anyway, but the PADD has a lot of it written down." (edited)

Mo took notes internally. He was big brain. He could do that. "I already gotcha it," Mo said, putting down his bag of nuts, ignoring how hollow his stomach felt and hoping it wouldn't grumble in the middle of a fucking questioning, and gesturing with the PADD. "But I'd need you to keep the screen angled at me the whole time. For security reasons, y'know."

He had it? He had her PADD? With the case Vincent gave her on it? Her PADD? She reached out to take it, her hand admittedly a little shaky as her mind flashed back to the last time she had it, that being when she nearly murdered Jericho. "I-I can do that. You'd have to come around to my side, though. It has to scan my face." She responded quietly.

...Hmmm. This would be the first time he'd directly interacted with Dagis since finding out she was a Sec 31 agent. She'd been behind a forcefield since then. Mo glanced at Jericho for... Reassurance? Confidence? Direction? He didn't know what he'd expect to find, then came around to Dagis's side. "With this, I'm givin' you the first step to make things right. Please don't make me regret it." Then he handed it to her.

Dagis' shaky hand immediately took the PADD, before unlocking it, the screen angled to herself and Mo could see. She then proceeded to swipe through a variety of different screens, seemingly without making a single mistake. She certainly knew how to use this thing. Once she got to a certain point she inputted a code, and then another, and another. A thumb scanner then came up on screen, which she used to scan her thumb. An eye symbol came up next, so she titled it towards her face more and it seemingly scanned her, before finally unlocking the 'back end'. "I have some names, protocols, procedures..." She muttered, before checking her communication line, only to read the final thing sent. Despite having well known she had been abandoned by the Section (which was good) reading that final message made her skin seemingly turn a little pale. After a good few seconds of just staring at the screen she looked at Mo. "What do you want? What do you need?"

"Names - particularly of any potential Sec 31 agents still here we ain't caught yet - locations, passwords, other channels, activity on other stations..." Wild if there was anything about Station 420 on there. "...anythin' about yer family, and motivations for doin' all this in the first place. Just -" Mo folded his arms and sighed." Fuckin' all of it. Dyson Spheres is probably a good keyword to search for. The hell is purple cheetah, by the way?"

"I only have a few names... Michael Crespo, Junior Petty Officer Damascus Rodgers, Petty Officer Steven Anderson, Petty Officer David Laurent, Chief Petty Officer Robert Murphey, Ensign T'shol, Ensign Sebastian Smith, Ensign Stephan O'Sullivan..." As Dagis listed the names off she scrolled through various pages of information. "Crespo wasn't under me, but the others are. I don't know which you had in the brig when, you know..." She said, gesturing to her chest, before continuing to slowly scroll. "I don't have access to names stationed elsewhere." The Ferengi took a moment before continuing. "As for my family... Giyall, Frekor, and Goras. They run Unlimited Ferengi Transportation and Cargo Solutions LTD. The name's irony isn't lost on me. They're based on Ferenginar." The woman explained, forcing any negative thoughts to the back of her head for right now. After another moment of silence Dagis continued. "Purple Cheetah is... Is what they send to operatives that fail... It's basically a warning. Don't tell anyone anything, don't contact them, don't go near any other operatives. Just don't fuck up anymore than you already have..." She said quietly, all the negative emotions starting to come to the front of her mind again. She didn't want that, so she decided to focus on Dyson Spheres. "I don't really know anything about the Spheres. I just know I was told to kill two Voth scientists during PACT. They were here to give a talk on the Spheres." The woman explained quietly, internally hating the fact she nearly killed them. "They got away before I got chance, thankfully. The bomb going off on the promenade saved their lives."

"So the bomb wasn't Sec 31..." Mystery for another time, he supposed. This was a lot of names, so he did start writing them all down on his own PADD - not that he couldn't remember them absurdly well, since Nalas wasn't the only one on the station with a photographic memory, but just in case. He wondered what the circumstances of all the other agents were. All blackmailed, too? "I assume they didn't tell you why those Voth scientists were targeted. I could speculate, but I'd rather have a straight answer if there is one in there. Oh, and anything relevant to Dzharok would be good. I don't know why he was targeted." Unless he was some sort of sleeper agent for Sec 31, or something like that.

Dagis paused and looked up at Mo when he asked about the Voth. "The Federation are at war with the Voth, sir. Having two aboard a Dyson Sphere was considered a risk by... the Section, and me, admittedly... But both seemed harmless and like they enjoyed their jobs." The woman responded, before looking back down at her PADD. "I have no idea why the CEO was attacked. Crespo wasn't under me. I'd assume it was to try and gain control of a key part of the station's Command infrastructure." There was a pause, before the Ferengi spoke again. "You asked for 'fuckin' all of it', so I should probably tell you how the communication channel was created, among other things. Before I was transferred here the Section already knew I was going to be coming here, so they made the channel by bypassing various security systems and diverting some of the civilian communications networks so they could piggyback. They hadn't hidden it well enough, though, because Intelligence found it, so I had to move it to the least populated civilian lines and bounce it off multiple different places just to disguise it." "To expand on why I got recruited... I think they just saw as an easy target. Word spread about what my parents did, what I used to do, and the fact I was a nice, non-capitalistic Ferengi within Starfleet who had shown a decent amount of smarts at the Academy made me good enough for them to forcefully 'hire' me... I mean, why wouldn't you target the fresh Ensign with a family that breaks the law? It's perfect blackmail..." The more Dagis spoke about being recruited, the quieter she got. She hated talking about it, but she forced herself to, knowing she had to. "...I also know the name of some key Section facilities, but I don't know where they are."

So they just didn't like that there were Voth on the Sphere? Simplest answer is the best one, he supposed. "It's good you're speakin' of it. A decent lawyer can spin 'vulnerable young Ensign taken advantage of by an insidious organisation' as a fairly sympathetic story." Provided she got a decent lawyer. He wished he had more control over that, but he didn't. What if she got Dipoto? Mo had thought the man was a hack, but he'd won the bloody case somehow, so Mo wasn't sure if that would be a good or bad thing. "Anyway, got all that. And even if you don't know where the facilities are, names are a start."

The Ferengi nodded in response, before proceeding to list off the facilities. "Okay, so... The Nest, The Branch, The Trunk, The Roots, and Saplings. The Nest is Section headquarters, The Branch is the training facility. I went there, but I don't know where 'there' is. The Trunk is where the Section get their supplies and equipment from. From what I know, The Roots is their 'recruitment' office. I didn't go there, though. And Saplings are local offices spread across,,, Across the Federation." Dagis said quietly. She knew all of this information on the names of these places, but couldn't be even slightly helpful in terms of where they were.

"That's... An interestin' extended metaphor. Honestly sounds like a bunch of taverns. Hopefully intelligence can make heads or tails... Or branches or roots o'that." Mo put his PADD away. "I think that's a good amount to work with. 'Less you can think of anythin' else... Thanks, Dagis." Mo wanted to say something else. Something that didn't necessarily reveal too much of his perspective on things but was still assuring. But what was there to say? He'd done all he could for now. 'Get well soon'? Nah. "I'll be needin' that PADD back," Mo said, holding out a hand for it. It felt like a dick move to ask for it, but it was necessary. "I, uh... Hope it all works out for ya."

Upon her PADD being asked for once again Dagis reluctantly gave it to him with a small nod, but not before briefly going into a setting to stop it auto-locking again. "Thank you, Captain... F-for listening. Please get my family safety." The Ferengi responded quietly, struggling to make eye contact, but managing just barely to give a small second nod. "I've unlocked the PADD so Lieutenant Giles can look through it all if he needs or wants to."

Mo took the PADD and handed it right to Giles, the guy(les) who could actually do something with it. Mo was good with tech and software, but he wasn't a cryptographer, or intelligence, or JAG Corps, or the people who needed this information most right now. "I'll do what I can. I'm dismissed. You too, Giles." Then Mo picked up his nuts and left to go do more Captain Things. Or possibly to delegate his nutcracking to the nearest strong-looking Ensign he could find.

The Ferengi watched as the two left, giving Jericho a small wave and a half smile, before laying back down again to try and rest some more.

Some time passed and Medical officers came in to check on Dagis. It was decided she was fit enough to be released back to Security provided she did minimal strenuous activity, so after changing out of her hospital gown and into civilian attire she was transported back to the brig, escorted by two Security officers.

[D] It had been a fairly normal week for Dagis. She had been working her usual shifts and doing her fairly mundane work, most of which was within her office. However, today was a day she had been looking forward to for over a month now, because today was her now partner's birthday. The Ferengi had spent the best part of a week planning what to get him and what she should do to surprise him, and in truth she had struggled quite a bit to figure it out. Outside of her family, she hadn't really celebrated anyone's birthday for years, and even when she had it had been a Ferengi birthday celebration, not a regular Federation birthday celebration. Her morning had been spent putting the few finishing touches on the gifts she had bought for Jericho, having decided that a calmer environment would be nice and probably very appreciated. Dagis hadn't planned on doing anything massive to surprise the Trill. In fact, all she had decided to do was to show up wherever he was and surprise him with his gifts. Being the Chief Operations Officer, the Ferengi had managed to adjust her shifts so she could fit herself in with her partner's time off his own work. When the time came, and after only double checking she had everything right five or so times, the woman had asked the computer where Lieutenant Junior Grade Jericho Giles was located, only to immediately be taken aback by the response it gave, the anxiety and dread beginning to creep in. x_divider