Post by Deleted on Jan 10, 2014 22:33:30 GMT -8
After the surgical procedure to remove the bomb that had been implanted in her womb, Emmarie had remained sedated. There had been too many variables at play: her now-lost unusual hybrid pregnancy, her already out-of-whack pheromones, the uncertain nature of her psychology if she were to awaken. She’d been transported to a quarantined area of one of the lesser used medical bays on Starbase Gamma Etimon, where specialists had monitored her vital signs.
“She’s going to come to soon,” a nurse said, her tone soft as she looked at the attending physician. “Shall I give her another sedative?”
Doctor Frell frowned, considering Emmarie’s chart. “If we allow her to awaken, her body may begin to regulate itself again.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. The only consolation that he’d had so far was that Dr. Erickson had handled the explosive device that had been implanted in the Orion Lieutenant. “This isn’t an exact science,” he admitted after a moment. “She has to awaken at some point, and the sooner she does, the quicker she’ll hopefully recover.”
He’d read the briefings though. How did one recover from having one’s own unborn child stolen from their womb by the brother of the man they loved? Maybe Emmarie didn’t ever want to awaken.
“Shall I give her the pheromone regulator?” Nurse Isaacs queried.
Frell shook his head. “We’ll keep her behind a containment field. Honestly… her readings are so conflicting right now that I don’t know what to give her. Her records say she has controlled herself consciously in the past. Hopefully that continues.” Frell hated uncertainty. He really hated it when a ticking time bomb was residing in his infirmary. That perhaps wasn’t the best choice of words, now was it? “If she’s contained, the only person she can influence is herself. The risk is low.”
“Of course, doctor,” Isaacs said, but her tone seemed just as uncertain as Frell felt.
“Move her biobed into the surgical suite and erect a level 4 containment field. Have the counseling team alerted to be ready to report here the moment she awakens.”
“Of course,” Issacs said as she complied. A few moments later, Emmarie’s biobed was safely contained in one of the auxiliary surgical suites, and the medical team stood nearby, monitoring Emmarie’s vitals.
And prepared for the inevitable.
There was no doubt in Frell’s mind that Emmarie was going to be unstable when she awoke. What he did not know was what direction the instability would take. He looked around, before gesturing to the three female medical officers in range. “Give yourselves an analgesic before she comes to. If she requires medical assistance, we’re going to need you three to take care of it,” Frell ordered. While the Orion pheromones could drive a weak-willed man insane with lust, women tended to respond with headaches and irritability.
Once appropriately dosed, all that was left to do was wait.
~*~
Emmarie’s body was taxed. In several short days, it had gone from growing a child, to having said child removed, to having an explosive device inserted and later removed. Even in her unconscious state, her body responded to the trauma it had endured. Protective instincts warred with survival instincts, and as she began to move towards consciousness, her fight or flight response slowly began to engage.
She’d been dreaming. At first a deep peaceful dream, her running in a field with a child. She knew the child was beside her, yet whenever she turned to look, he disappeared.
“Billy,” she said softly, chastising. “Quit messing around like that.” Still, her tone was soft. Proud.
She heard the sound of a giggle and whirled around, a smile spreading across her face. Behind a bush in the distance, she saw a green-skinned child of approximately three years peeking out at her.
“You think you’re so clever,” she said, as she approached. He is his father’s child, she mused.
The boy’s chin dipped down, and he peered coyly up. As Emmarie approached, she saw an oddly familiar set of deep blue eyes. She ran the last few steps to the boy’s side, but just as she was about to embrace him, he disappeared once more.
“Billy,” she chided once more. “Let’s stop playing games. We have things to do today.” She hesitated. What things did she have to do? She knew that there was something very important she needed to do. Someone she needed to see.
“Your father is waiting, Billy,” she said. That sounded right. His father. William Hunter. There was a pang of an unpleasant emotion, and Emmarie couldn’t immediately recognize it. She whirled around. Where had they gone? Where was William? And Billy?
Confusion took over, and she began to run. She realized that she was in the woods. She had no idea how she’d gotten there, but she felt the sting of branches as they whipped against her face.
She saw a flash of movement ahead of her. Billy. She ran faster, pushing her body as hard as she could. She had to get to Billy. Then she could find William, and figure out what all of this was about.
“Emmarie,” she heard her name, and stopped, looking to see the source.
“William!” She exclaimed, running over to embrace him. “Please tell me what to do, I’m sure you know what’s going on,” she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “You always know…”
As she looked him in the eyes, though, she realized something was wrong. The usual lust, affection and concern had been replaced by… fury?
Hunter pushed her away. “How dare you!?” He hissed. “How could you think that I’d want you after what you’ve done!”
“But… But William, what have I done?”
His hands clenched to fists at his sides. “How dare you,” he said darkly. “How can you pretend like nothing has happened. You lost the one thing that I actually gave a damn about. I told you to be careful. I told you that protecting my child was the most important responsibility you had. And yet still you lost him.”
He hesitated, then shook his head, as if in disbelief. “I don’t know how I expected an Orion to ever protect something that precious to me.”
~*~
“Doctor, I don’t know what’s going on but her vitals are going crazy,” Nurse Isaacs said. “Her heart rate, brain activity, adrenaline… all extremely elevated. This can’t be normal, can it?”
“Some species experience aggression when awaking from sedation,” Frell said, but his tone was hesitant. “She’s behind the forcefield, she can’t hurt anyone, let’s continue to monitor for the moment.”
“Yes doctor,” Isaacs said.
“Her brain activity suggests that she should awaken soon,” Doctor Tilamon interjected. “Once she awakens we should be able to better assess her current condition.
“Her vitals aren’t at a dangerous level yet. We’ll continue our plan unless that status changes,” Frell reaffirmed. I hope this is the right decision.
~*~
She wasn’t dreaming anymore. Or at least, it didn’t feel like a dream. Everything surrounding her was black. The darkness seemed to press on her from every side, giving her the feeling of claustrophobia. Every part of her body ached in a way she’d never felt before.
Just keep fighting it, Emmarie thought to herself. But even forming the words in her brain was difficult. Her lips parted, and she tried to speak, but everything that came out was nonsense syllables.
“Did the translator catch any of that?” Frell asked, looking at her chart once more. There was nothing to suggest that Emmarie spoke Orion.
Isaacs shook her head. “According to the translator that’s not any known language. She’s just… babbling incoherently.”
“She sounds angry,” Tilamon said.
“Wouldn’t you be?” Frell responded. “Angry we can deal with.” It was certainly preferable to the alternative. Angry indicated a will to survive. The last thing Frell wanted was to have a suicidal Orion on his hands. Truth be told, the last thing I want is any emotionally driven Orion on my hands.
One green eye slowly flitted open, before closing once more. Emmarie cringed, curling up into fetal position as the surgical suite lights seemed to sear into her brain.
“Computer, cut the lights by 50%” Frell ordered. The infirmary computer complied.
Emmarie’s skin seemed to darken, and Frell frowned, wondering if it was a trick of the lights, or something was actually happening. “Does she look-”
“Darker?” Tilamon finished, and the two doctors both nodded.
“Pheromones?” Frell suggested.
“That’s my assumption,” Tilamon said, looking to Isaacs.
The nurse flushed, “Let me check the readings,” she said, pulling out her tricorder. She nodded after a moment, “Yeah, her pheromone levels are increasing.”
“Do we have an established baseline for Orion animal women?” Tilamon queried.
“Uh… not handy….” Isaacs said. “Let me go check.”
“She’s going to awaken with one thing on her mind,” Frell said, as Emmarie’s lithe form began to writhe in suggestive manner.
“Sex,” Tilamon answered. He couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Initially, his guess seemed spot on. In a blink Emmarie had gone from prone on the bed, to perched atop it. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the infirmary. The corners of her lips quirked up, revealing a toothy grin. For a long moment, the Orion surveyed the males present.
“Uh…” Tilamon said. “Is this like a Vulcan pon farr situation where the only way to calm her down would be to… you know…”
“Tilamon, she’d break you,” Frell retorted. There was something unsettling about Emmarie’s eyes, and he was forced to look away.
Emmarie leapt forward then, her body impacting the forcefield separating her from the medical staff with a loud *snap* of energy. She was repelled several feet back, yet landed in a crouch in a feline manner. Shaking off the shock, she stood up and began to pace. Her eyes darted quickly around looking for something that she could use as a tool.
She grabbed a scalpel, and Isaacs cringed. Why had she not thought to clear out the surgical tools? Emmarie turned it over in her hands once, before depressing the button that enabled the tool’s laser blade.
“Emmarie don’t!” Frell shouted, moving instinctively towards the forcefield. But the order was unnecessary. Emmarie had no intention of ending her own life. Having interpreted Frell looking away as a gesture of submission, she lunged towards him once more, this time with scalpel bared.
Again she was knocked back, and Frell wondered just how long it would take for her body to give out. “Emmarie, it’s going to be alright. You are on Starbase Gamma Etimon. I’m a Starfleet doctor. You’re safe now.”
But all logical thought had left Emmarie’s mind. She saw only red. In response to the doctor’s words, she merely hissed, before continuing to pace the room.
“Should we try and do something?” Isaacs asked, then flinched when Emmarie glared at her for speaking.
“Let’s give her time. She’s not hurting anyone at the moment. Hopefully she’ll calm down a bit on her own,” Tilamon said softly. Personally, he was transfixed by the sight of her, prowling like an animal. She continued to study her surroundings, trying to figure out a way to escape her confinement.
She returned to the tray of surgical tools, rifling through them quickly. Isaacs held her breath, and Frell placed a reassuring hand on her. “She doesn’t want to hurt herself,” he said. Then he looked around. “Has anyone summoned the bloody counselor yet?!”
“I’ll contact them again,” Isaacs said, rushing out of the immediate area.
Meanwhile, Emmarie pressed buttons. All of the tools she founds, however, just seemed to have funny blinking lights and patterns that meant nothing to her animal mind. She threw them away, growling in frustration. She then turned her attention to the various bins and cabinets, throwing them open quickly before searching their contents. Dumping out surgical gowns, she scowled fiercely, looking down at her own attired. The medical gown she was wearing was chafing her as she moved. With a grunt, she grabbed the gown, ripping it from her body, then tossed it to the floor.
As she went back to looking through the cabinets, her hand hovered momentarily over her abdomen, and she looked down. She ran her fingers softly over the dark green skin there, still slightly distended from her pregnancy.
“Is she remembering?” Frell asked, looking around again. Where was that bloody counselor? He noticed that all the other men in the room had their eyes fixed on the now nude Orion, and he sighed.
Emmarie’s moment of reflection seemed to pass quickly, however, and she continued looking for something, anything, that would allow her to escape. From time to time she’d turn about, crouch down, and hiss at her captors, before returning to her search.
Finding nothing in the cabinets, she climbed atop the consoles. Her head cocked to the side as the buttons lit up under her toes, and she moved her feet tentatively around on the smooth surface.
“Computer, disable all consoles in the auxiliary surgical suite!” Frell ordered. He doubted there was much she could do accidentally, but it paid to be cautious.
“How is she?” Asked Lieutenant Palor, one of the counselors aboard the station.
“Angry,” Frell answered. Emmarie jumped down from the console and approached the forcefield, sniffing the air as though to get a scent from the newly arrived woman.
“Emmarie,” Palor said, but having determined that the woman posed no threat, the Orion turned back to her escape attempts.
“She seemed to have a moment where she almost remembered she was pregnant,” Tilamon said.
“She may orientate herself once the sedatives finish wearing off,” Palor suggested. She watched curiously as Emmarie returned to pacing the surgical suite.
“That’s what we’re hoping. Anything we tell her just seems to anger her further.”
“Where’s her next of kin? Is there anyone here she knows?” Palor asked.
“The father of the child remained about Talon. She has no biological family to speak of. Her adoptive family on Earth has been notified, but obviously it will be some time before they can make it here.”
Climbing back onto the console, Emmarie crouched deeply before leaping up into the air. She grabbed on to one of the light fixtures, and dangled there for a moment. Under most circumstances, she would have easily been able to pull her body up as well. But weakened as she was from her ordeal, she slipped down several moments later. Growling, she stomped on the console.
Her efforts thus far thwarted, she sat down, her arms and legs crossed in front of her in a childlike fashion. Palor took advantage of this moment.
“Emmarie,” she said softly. The Orion looked up. That’s good, she at least remembers her name. “Do you know where you are?” Emmarie’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, this method wasn’t going to provoke any sort of desirable response. Palor considered another tactic. “Lieutenant! Name and service number!”
Emmarie growled once more, before standing up. She approached the forcefield slowly, her eyes level with Palor’s.
“Emmarie,” Palor started, but was interrupted by the Orion bellowing in rage. Lashing out with everything she had, Emmarie attacked the forcefield, all logical thought lost. The forcefield crackled as hands, claws, and feet struck it. Frell cringed, seeing the burns begin to form on Emmarie’s skin.
He was just about to interject and demand her sedation when she finally stopped, falling to the floor in exhaustion. For several long moments, all collected sat in silence. Emmarie breathed deeply, as though she was trying to regain her strength before another assault.
“She seems to have some sense of who she is,” Palor said. “She’s just operating by sheer animal woman instinct right now.” She decided upon a risky tactic. “Emmarie, do you want to talk about the baby?” For a moment, it almost seemed as though Palor had gotten through to her, as she hesitated for a moment.
Emmarie pulled herself to her feet, grabbed the first thing she could and threw it at the forcefield.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Frell said. “We need to get her pheromones under control somehow, and then try and get through to her.”
Emmarie picked up a tray, and prepared to throw it.
“Emmarie, let’s talk about William Hunter,” Palor said.
Emmarie hesitated, recognition flitting across her features. As she hesitated, she saw her own reflection in the shiny metal of the tray. “William,” she said softly, speaking the name as though it was the most important in the world. The tray fell from her fingertips, and clattered to the floor, causing the medical officers to flinch. But Emmarie was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even blink. Suddenly, it all came back to her. The away team. Colton Hunter. The baby. The bomb.
Her hands dropped to her abdomen once more. Palor tried speaking to her again, but Emmarie was too lost in her own thoughts to notice.
“Where….” she said, her words still coming to her with great difficulty. She looked around at all the things she’d tossed, before finally finding a tricorder. Pointing it at herself, she scanned quickly.
Her anguished screams resounded off the bulkheads as she fell to a sobbing heap on the floor.
Tag: @hunter
“She’s going to come to soon,” a nurse said, her tone soft as she looked at the attending physician. “Shall I give her another sedative?”
Doctor Frell frowned, considering Emmarie’s chart. “If we allow her to awaken, her body may begin to regulate itself again.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. The only consolation that he’d had so far was that Dr. Erickson had handled the explosive device that had been implanted in the Orion Lieutenant. “This isn’t an exact science,” he admitted after a moment. “She has to awaken at some point, and the sooner she does, the quicker she’ll hopefully recover.”
He’d read the briefings though. How did one recover from having one’s own unborn child stolen from their womb by the brother of the man they loved? Maybe Emmarie didn’t ever want to awaken.
“Shall I give her the pheromone regulator?” Nurse Isaacs queried.
Frell shook his head. “We’ll keep her behind a containment field. Honestly… her readings are so conflicting right now that I don’t know what to give her. Her records say she has controlled herself consciously in the past. Hopefully that continues.” Frell hated uncertainty. He really hated it when a ticking time bomb was residing in his infirmary. That perhaps wasn’t the best choice of words, now was it? “If she’s contained, the only person she can influence is herself. The risk is low.”
“Of course, doctor,” Isaacs said, but her tone seemed just as uncertain as Frell felt.
“Move her biobed into the surgical suite and erect a level 4 containment field. Have the counseling team alerted to be ready to report here the moment she awakens.”
“Of course,” Issacs said as she complied. A few moments later, Emmarie’s biobed was safely contained in one of the auxiliary surgical suites, and the medical team stood nearby, monitoring Emmarie’s vitals.
And prepared for the inevitable.
There was no doubt in Frell’s mind that Emmarie was going to be unstable when she awoke. What he did not know was what direction the instability would take. He looked around, before gesturing to the three female medical officers in range. “Give yourselves an analgesic before she comes to. If she requires medical assistance, we’re going to need you three to take care of it,” Frell ordered. While the Orion pheromones could drive a weak-willed man insane with lust, women tended to respond with headaches and irritability.
Once appropriately dosed, all that was left to do was wait.
~*~
Emmarie’s body was taxed. In several short days, it had gone from growing a child, to having said child removed, to having an explosive device inserted and later removed. Even in her unconscious state, her body responded to the trauma it had endured. Protective instincts warred with survival instincts, and as she began to move towards consciousness, her fight or flight response slowly began to engage.
She’d been dreaming. At first a deep peaceful dream, her running in a field with a child. She knew the child was beside her, yet whenever she turned to look, he disappeared.
“Billy,” she said softly, chastising. “Quit messing around like that.” Still, her tone was soft. Proud.
She heard the sound of a giggle and whirled around, a smile spreading across her face. Behind a bush in the distance, she saw a green-skinned child of approximately three years peeking out at her.
“You think you’re so clever,” she said, as she approached. He is his father’s child, she mused.
The boy’s chin dipped down, and he peered coyly up. As Emmarie approached, she saw an oddly familiar set of deep blue eyes. She ran the last few steps to the boy’s side, but just as she was about to embrace him, he disappeared once more.
“Billy,” she chided once more. “Let’s stop playing games. We have things to do today.” She hesitated. What things did she have to do? She knew that there was something very important she needed to do. Someone she needed to see.
“Your father is waiting, Billy,” she said. That sounded right. His father. William Hunter. There was a pang of an unpleasant emotion, and Emmarie couldn’t immediately recognize it. She whirled around. Where had they gone? Where was William? And Billy?
Confusion took over, and she began to run. She realized that she was in the woods. She had no idea how she’d gotten there, but she felt the sting of branches as they whipped against her face.
She saw a flash of movement ahead of her. Billy. She ran faster, pushing her body as hard as she could. She had to get to Billy. Then she could find William, and figure out what all of this was about.
“Emmarie,” she heard her name, and stopped, looking to see the source.
“William!” She exclaimed, running over to embrace him. “Please tell me what to do, I’m sure you know what’s going on,” she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “You always know…”
As she looked him in the eyes, though, she realized something was wrong. The usual lust, affection and concern had been replaced by… fury?
Hunter pushed her away. “How dare you!?” He hissed. “How could you think that I’d want you after what you’ve done!”
“But… But William, what have I done?”
His hands clenched to fists at his sides. “How dare you,” he said darkly. “How can you pretend like nothing has happened. You lost the one thing that I actually gave a damn about. I told you to be careful. I told you that protecting my child was the most important responsibility you had. And yet still you lost him.”
He hesitated, then shook his head, as if in disbelief. “I don’t know how I expected an Orion to ever protect something that precious to me.”
~*~
“Doctor, I don’t know what’s going on but her vitals are going crazy,” Nurse Isaacs said. “Her heart rate, brain activity, adrenaline… all extremely elevated. This can’t be normal, can it?”
“Some species experience aggression when awaking from sedation,” Frell said, but his tone was hesitant. “She’s behind the forcefield, she can’t hurt anyone, let’s continue to monitor for the moment.”
“Yes doctor,” Isaacs said.
“Her brain activity suggests that she should awaken soon,” Doctor Tilamon interjected. “Once she awakens we should be able to better assess her current condition.
“Her vitals aren’t at a dangerous level yet. We’ll continue our plan unless that status changes,” Frell reaffirmed. I hope this is the right decision.
~*~
She wasn’t dreaming anymore. Or at least, it didn’t feel like a dream. Everything surrounding her was black. The darkness seemed to press on her from every side, giving her the feeling of claustrophobia. Every part of her body ached in a way she’d never felt before.
Just keep fighting it, Emmarie thought to herself. But even forming the words in her brain was difficult. Her lips parted, and she tried to speak, but everything that came out was nonsense syllables.
“Did the translator catch any of that?” Frell asked, looking at her chart once more. There was nothing to suggest that Emmarie spoke Orion.
Isaacs shook her head. “According to the translator that’s not any known language. She’s just… babbling incoherently.”
“She sounds angry,” Tilamon said.
“Wouldn’t you be?” Frell responded. “Angry we can deal with.” It was certainly preferable to the alternative. Angry indicated a will to survive. The last thing Frell wanted was to have a suicidal Orion on his hands. Truth be told, the last thing I want is any emotionally driven Orion on my hands.
One green eye slowly flitted open, before closing once more. Emmarie cringed, curling up into fetal position as the surgical suite lights seemed to sear into her brain.
“Computer, cut the lights by 50%” Frell ordered. The infirmary computer complied.
Emmarie’s skin seemed to darken, and Frell frowned, wondering if it was a trick of the lights, or something was actually happening. “Does she look-”
“Darker?” Tilamon finished, and the two doctors both nodded.
“Pheromones?” Frell suggested.
“That’s my assumption,” Tilamon said, looking to Isaacs.
The nurse flushed, “Let me check the readings,” she said, pulling out her tricorder. She nodded after a moment, “Yeah, her pheromone levels are increasing.”
“Do we have an established baseline for Orion animal women?” Tilamon queried.
“Uh… not handy….” Isaacs said. “Let me go check.”
“She’s going to awaken with one thing on her mind,” Frell said, as Emmarie’s lithe form began to writhe in suggestive manner.
“Sex,” Tilamon answered. He couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Initially, his guess seemed spot on. In a blink Emmarie had gone from prone on the bed, to perched atop it. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the infirmary. The corners of her lips quirked up, revealing a toothy grin. For a long moment, the Orion surveyed the males present.
“Uh…” Tilamon said. “Is this like a Vulcan pon farr situation where the only way to calm her down would be to… you know…”
“Tilamon, she’d break you,” Frell retorted. There was something unsettling about Emmarie’s eyes, and he was forced to look away.
Emmarie leapt forward then, her body impacting the forcefield separating her from the medical staff with a loud *snap* of energy. She was repelled several feet back, yet landed in a crouch in a feline manner. Shaking off the shock, she stood up and began to pace. Her eyes darted quickly around looking for something that she could use as a tool.
She grabbed a scalpel, and Isaacs cringed. Why had she not thought to clear out the surgical tools? Emmarie turned it over in her hands once, before depressing the button that enabled the tool’s laser blade.
“Emmarie don’t!” Frell shouted, moving instinctively towards the forcefield. But the order was unnecessary. Emmarie had no intention of ending her own life. Having interpreted Frell looking away as a gesture of submission, she lunged towards him once more, this time with scalpel bared.
Again she was knocked back, and Frell wondered just how long it would take for her body to give out. “Emmarie, it’s going to be alright. You are on Starbase Gamma Etimon. I’m a Starfleet doctor. You’re safe now.”
But all logical thought had left Emmarie’s mind. She saw only red. In response to the doctor’s words, she merely hissed, before continuing to pace the room.
“Should we try and do something?” Isaacs asked, then flinched when Emmarie glared at her for speaking.
“Let’s give her time. She’s not hurting anyone at the moment. Hopefully she’ll calm down a bit on her own,” Tilamon said softly. Personally, he was transfixed by the sight of her, prowling like an animal. She continued to study her surroundings, trying to figure out a way to escape her confinement.
She returned to the tray of surgical tools, rifling through them quickly. Isaacs held her breath, and Frell placed a reassuring hand on her. “She doesn’t want to hurt herself,” he said. Then he looked around. “Has anyone summoned the bloody counselor yet?!”
“I’ll contact them again,” Isaacs said, rushing out of the immediate area.
Meanwhile, Emmarie pressed buttons. All of the tools she founds, however, just seemed to have funny blinking lights and patterns that meant nothing to her animal mind. She threw them away, growling in frustration. She then turned her attention to the various bins and cabinets, throwing them open quickly before searching their contents. Dumping out surgical gowns, she scowled fiercely, looking down at her own attired. The medical gown she was wearing was chafing her as she moved. With a grunt, she grabbed the gown, ripping it from her body, then tossed it to the floor.
As she went back to looking through the cabinets, her hand hovered momentarily over her abdomen, and she looked down. She ran her fingers softly over the dark green skin there, still slightly distended from her pregnancy.
“Is she remembering?” Frell asked, looking around again. Where was that bloody counselor? He noticed that all the other men in the room had their eyes fixed on the now nude Orion, and he sighed.
Emmarie’s moment of reflection seemed to pass quickly, however, and she continued looking for something, anything, that would allow her to escape. From time to time she’d turn about, crouch down, and hiss at her captors, before returning to her search.
Finding nothing in the cabinets, she climbed atop the consoles. Her head cocked to the side as the buttons lit up under her toes, and she moved her feet tentatively around on the smooth surface.
“Computer, disable all consoles in the auxiliary surgical suite!” Frell ordered. He doubted there was much she could do accidentally, but it paid to be cautious.
“How is she?” Asked Lieutenant Palor, one of the counselors aboard the station.
“Angry,” Frell answered. Emmarie jumped down from the console and approached the forcefield, sniffing the air as though to get a scent from the newly arrived woman.
“Emmarie,” Palor said, but having determined that the woman posed no threat, the Orion turned back to her escape attempts.
“She seemed to have a moment where she almost remembered she was pregnant,” Tilamon said.
“She may orientate herself once the sedatives finish wearing off,” Palor suggested. She watched curiously as Emmarie returned to pacing the surgical suite.
“That’s what we’re hoping. Anything we tell her just seems to anger her further.”
“Where’s her next of kin? Is there anyone here she knows?” Palor asked.
“The father of the child remained about Talon. She has no biological family to speak of. Her adoptive family on Earth has been notified, but obviously it will be some time before they can make it here.”
Climbing back onto the console, Emmarie crouched deeply before leaping up into the air. She grabbed on to one of the light fixtures, and dangled there for a moment. Under most circumstances, she would have easily been able to pull her body up as well. But weakened as she was from her ordeal, she slipped down several moments later. Growling, she stomped on the console.
Her efforts thus far thwarted, she sat down, her arms and legs crossed in front of her in a childlike fashion. Palor took advantage of this moment.
“Emmarie,” she said softly. The Orion looked up. That’s good, she at least remembers her name. “Do you know where you are?” Emmarie’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, this method wasn’t going to provoke any sort of desirable response. Palor considered another tactic. “Lieutenant! Name and service number!”
Emmarie growled once more, before standing up. She approached the forcefield slowly, her eyes level with Palor’s.
“Emmarie,” Palor started, but was interrupted by the Orion bellowing in rage. Lashing out with everything she had, Emmarie attacked the forcefield, all logical thought lost. The forcefield crackled as hands, claws, and feet struck it. Frell cringed, seeing the burns begin to form on Emmarie’s skin.
He was just about to interject and demand her sedation when she finally stopped, falling to the floor in exhaustion. For several long moments, all collected sat in silence. Emmarie breathed deeply, as though she was trying to regain her strength before another assault.
“She seems to have some sense of who she is,” Palor said. “She’s just operating by sheer animal woman instinct right now.” She decided upon a risky tactic. “Emmarie, do you want to talk about the baby?” For a moment, it almost seemed as though Palor had gotten through to her, as she hesitated for a moment.
Emmarie pulled herself to her feet, grabbed the first thing she could and threw it at the forcefield.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Frell said. “We need to get her pheromones under control somehow, and then try and get through to her.”
Emmarie picked up a tray, and prepared to throw it.
“Emmarie, let’s talk about William Hunter,” Palor said.
Emmarie hesitated, recognition flitting across her features. As she hesitated, she saw her own reflection in the shiny metal of the tray. “William,” she said softly, speaking the name as though it was the most important in the world. The tray fell from her fingertips, and clattered to the floor, causing the medical officers to flinch. But Emmarie was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even blink. Suddenly, it all came back to her. The away team. Colton Hunter. The baby. The bomb.
Her hands dropped to her abdomen once more. Palor tried speaking to her again, but Emmarie was too lost in her own thoughts to notice.
“Where….” she said, her words still coming to her with great difficulty. She looked around at all the things she’d tossed, before finally finding a tricorder. Pointing it at herself, she scanned quickly.
Her anguished screams resounded off the bulkheads as she fell to a sobbing heap on the floor.
Tag: @hunter