Unshakable Determination

Posted on Wed Jan 22nd, 2025 @ 5:43am by Ensign Isaac 'Zac' Hughes & Lieutenant Avira zh'Kenarh M.D.

Mission: Remnant
Location: Main Sickbay
2196 words - 4.4 OF Standard Post Measure

At the hand over at the end or start of a shift (depending on perspective) there wasn't much time for pleasantries. One of the two parties was always at the end of their respective long shifts. The downside to being the only two fully accredited medical officers on the vessel. Of course there was time and room to step away from sickbay every once in a while. But flying into unknown territory or potentially dangerous situations was usually not the time. So to say it was weird to be stepping into the sickbay in the middle of the shift of her counterpart was an understatement.

"Doctor." Avira was holding a PADD with all the information she had gathered so far on her condition and the small bit of data crunching Mercy had been able to do for her on the possible protein markers of possible cures provided by the future ship as well as the Raelians. "I would like to ask for your professional opinion on a personal matter."

Though he was a long way from any palpable reminders, Isaac wasn't so far removed from life back on Earth that he had entirely forgotten the mild terror of being surprised by a superior. Of course, whilst his Andorian chief had a more militaristic background to draw her experiences from, Isaac's was a far more mundane parade of professors and supervisors whose dreary task it had always been to remind him he wasn't cut out for the profession. It seemed ridiculous now, stranded in another universe, so far away from home that it wasn't even a given that he'd ever see it again, but there had been a time where Isaac Hughes had stood a far better chance of being a carpenter by trade than any sort of medical professional. As it had turned out, his particular penchant for unorthodox methods was practically mandatory when dealing with interstellar travel. If only his teachers could see him now.

Which is to say, they would have seen a man perched on a stool in the middle of a rather quiet Sickbay, using the time in between incidents to work on the organisational skeleton of what would eventually be, hopefully, a comprehensive mental health and well-being framework. Certainly, given the uniqueness of the situation, it wasn't something he'd ever been taught how to set-up and an argument could have been made for the importance, therefore, of Isaac's tendency to 'make shit up' because it made sense. He glanced up at the interruption, and though Avira's presence wasn't quite enough to stir up a young Zac's nervousness, his curiosity was nevertheless piqued.

"Well, that's certainly one way to bypass complaints about your use of personal downtime."

Avira frowned a bit at that, then decided not to comment on his comment. A decision she had to make often in the presence of Zac. He had a knack for voicing his inner monologue in a way that made it difficult for her to follow. "Would you please have a look at this data." She offered the PADD she had been holding and stood back a bit. It was as if someone was sharing a novel they had written for feedback and had difficulty no looking over the shoulder of the person reading it. Pacing slightly back and forth as the other doctor took his time to take in the details of the information presented. "It's me. It's my personal medical data. I think it's important for you to know that." It was unlike her to blurt something like that out.

As much as his training had grounded him enough in a physician's role for it to still qualify as his primary skillset, Isaac had consistently demonstrated difficulty in leaving his psychology hat off when it came to dealing with medically-complex issues. The two mindsets typically ran in tandem, and though he wasn't as gifted in the surgical aspects of their role as his alien colleague, Zac was no slouch when it came to analysing patient data. This particular file was initially confusing until the explanation drew attention to the non-humanness of the physiology in question, at which point Hughes was more than wiling to admit he was a little out of his depths. Brow furrowed, he reread the section dedicated to preliminary diagnosis and chose his words carefully. "Talk me through this."

"It's called thz'ahar'shenk in my native language. That roughly translates to 'Neural waterfall disorder, or neuro-cascade disorder.'" Avira allowed for a moment to have him understand just what she was saying. Even among medical professionals talking on these types of topics when it affected oneself was difficult at the best of times. "It's a degenerative condition affecting the axonal pathways in the central nervous system." She felt her heartrate rise as she stressed over his possible reaction, "It's caused by a mutation in the sh'taal-complex gene cluster, which regulates protein folding during neural development." For anyone with a basic understanding of medical conditions and the way these things worked, that was enough to know it was bad. "Over time, the misfolded proteins accumulate in the synaptic junctions, leading to progressive neural degradation, pain, failure of fine motor skills, and eventually, systemic motor failure."

There was a certain stoicism expected from the medical profession, the ability to emotionally distance oneself from a situation in order to provide objective advice and the best clinical care possible. Isaac had both struggled to navigate the necessity and thrived with certain aspects of it purely by dint of personal reservation and a tendency to fold himself away behind gentle introspection. The furrowed brow was familiar by now, the concern it conveyed still tempered by the need for practical considerations. Degenerative diseases had a way of crossing both sides of his professional expertise, and he'd had enough personal experience with watching loved ones slowly fade from meaningful existence to understand the implications embedded between the cold harshness of medical data. With the explanation to guide him, he reread quickly over the footnotes and then lifted his gaze to study his colleague quietly.

"And where do we stand with a viable treatment plan?"

His gentle tone indicated Hughes understood there probably wasn't one. Something about the way it was being brought to him now, at the expense of pride and privacy that he knew Avira coveted, tended to indicate a dispersal of options.

"It came to light as part of Lieutenant Darru's attempt at making genetically sound pairings of the crew so that the Atlantis might become a generational vessel." Avira wasn't quite ready to talk about the treatment plan, or lack thereof, just yet. "Following that revelation I've consulted with the Raelians, as well as used the facilities on the future ship to get second opinions as well as to look at treatment plans were viable." A deep sigh that revealed what Hughes already knew, "All I have so far is a wide range of possible protein therapies, the efficacy of which is impossible to tell without some very heavy data crunching. The progression of the disease should give me plenty of time." She looked him straight in the eyes, her antennae coiled up as tensely as they could. "However, following our little excursion into the space fauna thing I've started to develop initial symptoms. I can't always keep my hands steady, and some moments it feel like my legs and arms are way heavier than they have any right to be." She looked at her hand and balled it into a fist before releasing, it was steady at the moment. "I've enlisted the help of the Science department to parse the data more efficiently. I didn't reveal the true purpose, but I suspect the Ensign knows."

After another glance over the PADD in his hand, Hughes very deliberately set it aside and turned so that he was facing the Andorian. Choosing to remain seated, he allowed his own observations to take precedence and offered the woman a faint smile as he caught the tail-end of her own situational assessment. "The neuro-toxin you all encountered has presented with a few cases of longer-term motor-neuron dysfunction," he reminded her gently, being well-aware that he'd only just been able to clear Cusack for return to duty in time to join the away team over similar issues with muscular control. "Even if its acted as an accelerant, we shouldn't discredit the treatment protocol entirely." It wasn't so much a case of blind optimism as it was just a practical response to a known problem. The data they'd been provided had warned of a recovery time of up to several months, after all.

"Regardless," Avira had been struggling with coming to terms with the disease and the path it would take to the inevitable end. There were treatment plans back on Andoria which she could apply more or less. It would delay the onset of the disease, but a complete cure was unavailable. Now that she'd started to experience adverse effects in line with the disease it seemed like the walls were starting to close in on her. It was something she had to deal with today, not next week or ten years from now. Today. She wanted to believe Hughes when he said it could be a side effect of the space flora's neuro-toxins. If that turned out to be true, she could celebrate then. If it wasn't, though, and it had properly kicked things off, she didn't think she could handle holding on to hope only to lose it all a couple of weeks or months down the road. "I have to treat this as the first sign of thz'ahar'shenk. Which means we have to talk about duties." Which finally revealed why she was broaching the subject in the first place.

The look of mild surprise on Hughes' face was honest without being overbearing. Being asked his professional opinion had lead to a hasty assumption, he supposed, or Avira was just tiptoeing around asking for help by flipping it around to a teaching moment. The deftness with which the Andorian deflected emotional vulnerability made the human smile faintly, though he allowed the change in tact to progress without calling attention to it. "Nothing like being prepared well in advance, huh?" It was meant to convey confidence, a reassurance that it would be some time before her own capacity required any sort of compensation. "What do you have in mind?"

"My fine motor skills are the first affected system." Avira looked at her hands and then held one out. Perfectly level. Unmoving. If she was trying to make a point she definitely wasn't doing a great job. She pulled her hand back and held them in front of her. "It'll intermittently affect my ability to do surgery. So any planned procedures, you're going to have to be present to take over in case it flares up. As things progress I will grow tired more quickly as well, which might affect my ability to cover double shifts."

There was a thoughtful silence before Hughes inclined his head once, a dip of deference for her reasoning. "In the grand scheme of things," he eventually replied, "it is not a ridiculous idea to consider extending my expertise regardless of external requirement. I..." His voice tapered off as the doctor considered his words carefully. "The landscape has not been changed long enough that I've forgotten the sleepless nights, worrying about my capacity to serve a crew without any other medical option. I'd be honoured to learn from you, Lieutenant." Zac's features broke into a warm smile, hopeful that the slight shift in perspective would relieve some of the sense of burden.

Avira nodded at that, it was a good way to look at it, and perhaps it would also allow for some privacy in regards to her medical situation if someone wondered why Hughes had to be present for such procedures this was a good cover. "Thank you, doctor. In due time we might also want to involve one of the other medical trainees. Someone with a steady hand and a strong stomach." her antennae relaxed and she let out an accompanying sigh. It was indeed a relief of the burden to have shared this with her most direct colleague. Now all that she really had to face was Manishie. "Thank you for your time, I'll leave you to it." She gave a slight bow.

"Avira."

In his typical quiet, placid way, Hughes waited until the use of her first name drew enough curiosity to turn his colleague's attention back towards him before offering her a pair of faintly elevated eyebrows, gentle and yet not without an element of harbouring astute prediction.

"Keep me updated, yes?"

Avira paused as she reached the exit, it was odd hearing her colleague use her name rather than her rank or title, "Yes, Doctor, of course I will." The promise was a lot easier made than followed up on, of course. With that she stepped out of the medical bay and allowed the doors to close behind her before letting out a huge sigh and feeling her antennae droop. That had been draining.