Piecing it Together

Posted on Wed May 21st, 2025 @ 10:19pm by Commander N'Garzi Zora & Lieutenant Commander P’rel M.D & Lieutenant Didrea Zade & Lieutenant Ame Solis M.D.

Mission: Pandora's Box
Location: USS Athena :: Sickbay
Timeline: MD 6
3017 words - 6 OF Standard Post Measure

The low light of Sickbay was a stark contrast to the usual blast of cool, sterile brightness that accompanied the hum of routine work. But now, with a more permanent resident—if only for the time being—allowances had been made by this Chief Medical Officer. Ame had always believed in creating a space that balanced healing and respect, but today, the atmosphere carried an inescapable weight.

Propped against the biobed beside the resting Chief of Security, Ame cradled a warm cup close to her chest, the steam rising in soft curls to meet her downcast eyes. A PADD sat idle in her hand, its reports and readouts offering no comfort. Her gaze strayed, again and again, to the bulkhead behind her office.

Beyond it lay the morgue, where Ensign Iska’s remains were kept in still, silent vigil. The image of his face lingered in her mind. The sparkle of the transporter beam, the weight of his compression boot as it had been handed back to her not days before, and the crushing reality that no treatment or technology could have saved him. Loss was not a stranger to her, but this one felt different, carving out a deeper wound. Perhaps it was the familiarity, the memory of his awkwardness not long ago.

The occasional rustle of her uniform as she adjusted her position was the only sound breaking the steady hum of the biobed’s forcefield support on Zade’s injured leg. Ame’s eyes flicked to the Lieutenant, her mind tugged between the grief of one life lost and the relief of another saved.

An earlier report by NVeid provided good news that Zade had woken up in the middle of the night, following the triage and extensive surgery performed the day prior. Even if it was only for a few minutes, the moment of consciousness relieved any fear of complications. Above the bed, the monitor quietly beeped away, the rhythm of her vitals showing significantly more promise than they did last night.

The doors opened and Zora swooped into the room. She was almost accosted by the dimmed lights. They weren't unpleasant, in fact, the opposite. She could see why having them this low would give the team's patients a better chance of recuperation, she just wasn't expecting them. She looked around the room and saw Ame sitting near Zade's biobed. Heading over, Zora glanced at the readings above the bed and managed to vaguely decipher their meaning. "How's the patient?" She asked in hushed tones.

A soft sigh pushed away the curls of steam that had warmed Ame’s face and she lowered the PADD as she uncrossed her legs to stand. “She’s resting, like being hit by a shuttle.” Her head shook gently as she moved away from the bed and toward the Commander, “She’s suffered a massive concussion, broken bones … it was close.” The hand with the coffee across her chest and her lower lip pulled in. “NVeid spoke to her when she woke in the night, she’s been out a while now. Things will be patchy at best …”

The sickbay doors closing behind her, P'rel was greeted with the familiar sight of sickbay and reminded why she had been perfectly content to leave medical practice and undertake research, even if that had led her down somewhat questionable paths. The events on the surface had been unpredicted, and she had now to discover if she should have predicted them, and whether anything further could be foreseen. Furthermore, she had a fairly large 'bone to pick' with the head of security, and that 'bone' was the junior officer she had promoted only months before.

"Lieutenant Zade" P'rel called out, unable to see the Lieutenant from her position at the door. As the words left her mouth, she realised that Commander Zora has receiving a briefing from Doctor Solis, both of whom had turned to face her. Taking the few paces across the room, Zade came into view on a bio bed. "Doctor" the Vulcan began, ignoring Zora; "I require a conversation with Lieutenant Zade. Please permit this immediately".

Zora's eyes lingered on the Vulcan but she managed to repress the words that threatened to bubble to the surface. Instead she turned to the Doctor with a more sympathetic look on her face. "Though I wouldn't have worded it in such a tone, the Lieutenant Commander makes a good point, we do need to speak to Lieutenant Zade, sooner rather than later."

Suppressing the seething, pulsing and intense anger throbbing behind her eyes and find herself in one the infrequent liminal states where she wished she had pursued Surak, P'rel simply permitted "Sooner" to escape her.

Ame stopped mid-sentence and winced at the calling out of the Lieutenant’s name. “I understand that but this is supposed to be a place of healing and rest. You can try and talk to her, but if you cause her any more stress, you will need to leave.” It took a lot of get under the Bajoran’s skin, even the attack on the Starbase didn’t strike as much of a nerve as the day prior. “She may not been able to give details or even remember what happened over the last few days.”

She pulled her arm tighter across her chest and her fingers curled around her mug’s handle, taking a moment to step back and give access to Zade’s biobed in the dimmed light. Her jaw flexed, making sure to keep close for the sake of the Trill and the stress of what she had endured. Her eyes moved to Zora with a twitch of concern.

Those parameters are likely to be insufficient... P'rel thought to herself, eyeing Zade on the biobed.

What was with all the noise? Zade stirred, the peaceful mask of sleep evolving into some mix of exhaustion and a recognition that everything ached. It was as if the very idea of moving made the soreness worse, and she wanted to go back to sleep but conversation kept pulling her attention. She opened her eyes, squinting a little as the dreamless void was replaced by light, as ambient as it was. It didn't take too long for her eyes to adjust, and she looked around, taking in the sterility of her surroundings. Sickbay... how did she get here? Luckily, she didn't try to sit up like she had in NVeid's report, instead letting fatigue keep her in place. Eventually, her gaze focused on the guests nearby, two opposing personalities that she recognized as Zora and P'Rel. "You all are loud..." she mumbled, her voice faintly hoarse. Why was there a lingering chalky film in her mouth?

She wasn't sure but it seemed that Zora was about to speak, ensuring that she got her much-needed issue addressed first P'rel leaned forward to grab Zade's full attention. "Lieutenant. I need to understand the nature and history of your relationship with Lieutenant Wrea..." she didn't break her stare but suspected there were confused looks around the bio bed. "...I need to know now".

"Wait!" Zora said as she held up her arm, creating a barrier between Zade and P'rel. She hated to admit it but P'rel often surprised the El-Aurian, she was unpredictable and rash, almost polar opposites from herself. So trying to gauge the Vulcan's mentality wasn't always the easiest. But this line of question, this being the first question, threw Zora more than she was able to hide. "We're here to find out about the accident, what has Wrea got to do with this?"

Both women outranked Ame in any other situation, she raised a hand to touch her forehead a sign to the prophets that they most certainly owed her a moment of grace. Without thought, she put down her mug and wove between the two of them as they had their discussion. Her jaw tensed again as she stepped in alongside the biobed. “Very loud.” She mumbled quietly.

"Indeed" P'rel answered, still not looking away from Zade; searching her face for subtle tells and unguarded micro-expressions. "Though that is a question perhaps best directed towards Lieutenant Zade".

“You have visitors it seems,” Ame warned the Trill quietly as she reviewed the readings the biobed was actively giving. Still stable but that wasn't her concern.

Zora wasn't the only one thrown through a loop by the Vulcan's questioning. Zade furrowed her brow, looking between Zora, P'Rel, and Ame a couple of times to try and read the room. As much as she had questions of her own, they'd likely be answered in due time. It wasn't a habit of hers to fully comprehend questions the second she woke up, which meant she'd likely be more receptive to unorthodox questions. The disorientation of being awake for all of ten seconds didn't help the effort to understand what exactly P'Rel wanted. "We have been friends for over a decade after she got me through a tough time. But why is that important? What happened?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Zora said as she folded her arms across her chest. She turned to the Vulcan commander who as usual wasn't giving anything away. Oh to live in the land of mystery and intrigue. "Get to your point P'rel, quickly."

Casting a marginally irritated eye at Zora, the Vulcan seriously considered just for a moment whether it would be more trouble than it was worth to go out on a limb and state that the communication might have needed a helping hand from a member of the Command team...but instead her eyes locked firmly back onto the injured Lieutenant.

"The hidden transmission sent by Wrea..." P'rel said accusingly. "How far would you go to protect an old friend...?".

That only further confused Zade, and she glanced again toward Zora before turning back to the Vulcan. "I don't know anything about a hidden transmission, Commander," she answered truthfully.

Ame spectated quietly for long enough, “I’d like to remind you that you’re *interrogating* someone who’s less than 24 hours out of surgery following a massive concussion, in my sickbay.” She tensed her jaw, limited already reached to the point where her eye twitched as she tried her best to maintain some form of professional boundary. “Is there no other form of investigation that could find the answers to your questions Commander?”

The seeds of doubt had already been sewn for the Bajoran and it felt that every opportunity that could possibly present itself to test her ability had done in the last three days. Her fingers flexed as her eyes shifted to the monitor above Zade’s head.

P'rel's eyes followed the Doctor's the readouts; as an MD herself she could read them just as well, and aside from what would be expected from trauma and stress the Lieutenant was fine, if certainly unwell. She looked at Doctor Solis with a cold stare which said as much.

"What has this got to do with what happened on the surface?" Zora asked P'rel. She narrowed her eyes, creating a crease in her forehead, a sign that she was annoyed and her patience was wearing thin.

Before she could look back to Zade, the inept Zora had interrupted her again. "I note Commander, that your first query was not that of a hidden transmission..." he eyes lingered accusingly on the XO. Wrea was good - brilliant, in fact - but she found it hard to believe that she didn't have help in getting messages out. An overt bit of assistance...perhaps unlikely; though a set of eyes looking the other way...that was plausible. The Vulcan immediately suspected Zade, but she never trusted Zora in the first place.

"And if I had asked about the hidden transmission, you obviously would have given me a straight answer," Zora replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Please arrive at your point quickly before the Lieutenant here," she vaguely waved her hand in the direction of the Trill lying on the biobed, "falls unconscious again." It was a shame that El-Aurians leaned closer to the empathic end of the spectrum rather than the telepathic end. She would give anything to just pull the information out of the Vulcan's head and save herself this self-important game she loved to play.

P'rel turned back to Zade without acknowledging Zora; the Vulcan equivalent of a human's 'harrumph'. "What do you know of Darius Wulfe?" she probed. There was 'thin ice' here, and P'rel knew she was skating over it; she could only get so far before Dr. Solis ended things; and a bit further still on the basis that she'd carry on regardless. Still, she had a limited opportunity to piece these elements together and gauging the reactions of Zade was at the very least just as helpful as the content of those reactions.

The name made Zade freeze. It brought back memories and emotions she spent years coming to terms with. Her fingers grew cold. Some flavor of resentment wrapped itself tightly around her chest, contrasting with that subtle hint of long-buried fear and grief that Zade's speechless stare held. The unexpected question practically choked her, keeping her from responding beyond a quiet stammer. How could she adequately explain the betrayal and irreparable damage he had caused? She still didn't understand why her personal details mattered, or what the connection was to the explosion, not helped by the heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her mind was too focused on the name that dared to leave the Vulcan's lips that any response seemed to sputter out in her throat.

Ame’s fingers curled a little tighter around the fabric of her uniform as her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze shifting to Zade—not just a glance, but a real look. The way the name had landed, the way it had hit her—this wasn’t just surprise. It was something deeper, something raw. Fear. That changed things.

She drew in a slow breath, steadying herself. “Commander,” her words had weight. “We stop here.” The Bajoran didn’t often dig her heels in, but right now? She had no choice. “You saw that, just like I did. That name means something to her. And not in the way a declassified report does. This is personal.”

Ame didn’t move to shield Zade outright, but her posture made the stance clear enough. “I get the need for answers,” she continued, voice softer but firm. “But I have a duty too. And I won’t let this continue at Zade’s expense. Not like this.”

The soft beeping of Zade's biobed changed pitch and frequency. Zora's head whipped in the direction of the readout above Zade's head and even though she wasn't a medical professional, she knew enough to know that the Trill's heartbeat and blood pressure had risen and her oxygen levels had dipped. "Are you okay?" She asked, turning back to Zade whose face had drained of any colour. Whoever this 'Darius Wulfe' was, Zade was familiar with them and they had caused an instant physical response. Damn, I hate when P'rel is right!

"I very much doubt it" P'rel answered Zora, for Zade, before eyeing the readouts herself. Satisfied she had pulled on her chosen thread sufficiently, and that the resistance from Zora and Solis wasn't worth continuing, the Vulcan turned and left the sickbay in a brisk, purposeful walk.

The question from Zora reminded Zade to breathe, and she briefly glanced her way to answer before P'Rel took the liberty of speaking for her. Looking back to the Vulcan, a subtle shift in her own tension gave away the beginning of an emotional transition to defensiveness. The insistence to keep pressing what seemed like an unrelated topic made something deeply rooted in resentment begin to stir, and the tactic of being left hanging only fueled a growing irritation.

When her glare couldn't hit P'Rel's back anymore, Zade took in a breath before turning her attention to Zora again. Irritation put a subtle, hard edge to her tone. "I'll be fine," she answered for herself, though the damage had been done. The beeping of the monitor reminded her to keep her emotions in check, and she focused on trying to reel it in. "He's someone I have a bad history with. I don't understand why that matters here."

"Neither do I, but I'm going to find out," Zora said. She turned on her heel and headed towards the door at a brisk pace. P'rel didn't get to throw a photon grenade in the middle of the room and leave everyone else to sort out the damage. "Doctor, keep me updated on Zade's condition," she called over her shoulder just as the doors to sickbay closed behind her.

The tension in Ame’s shoulders remained long after P’Rel and Zora had left. She exhaled, slow and measured, willing herself to let go of the tight coil of frustration in her chest. But it wasn’t easy. The damage had been done. Zade’s reaction, the spike in her vitals, the way she had to remind herself to breathe. This wasn’t just another line of questioning. It had been an ambush, deliberate or not. And that sat wrong with Ame.

Her gaze drifted back to Zade, reading the lingering strain in the Security Chief’s expression. “They shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” she said, quieter now, but firm. No matter what answers P’Rel or Zora were after, there had been a line, and they had bulldozed right over it. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, but if you need someone in your corner, I’m here.”

She gave Zade a moment, then shifted to check the biobed’s readings. “For now, let’s focus on getting you steady,” she added, adjusting one of the monitors. The rest? The unanswered questions, the reckless need for answers at any cost, those could wait.