Canopus Station
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Prosthetic check up

Posted on Sat Feb 29th, 2020 @ 4:31am by Lieutenant Commander Mara Ricci

Mission: S2:1: Into The Drowning Deeps
Location: Sick Bay
Timeline: TBA

Prosthetics required a lot of medical attention for several weeks after being installed. Mara knew and accepted this, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Even so, she wanted everything to work out well, so she dutifully presented herself in Sick Bay at the appointment time and checked in with reception. She then sat to wait, wishing she’d have brought a book along. Oh well, too late now.

She was easy to recognise, the engineering officer, and Murray smiled as he wandered out into reception to meet her. Mara Ricci (he'd looked her up) the bright and beautiful lady with the prosthetic arm from the landing party. He had a lot of faces and names to learn, but luckily that was well within his skillset. Still, being the new guy on a station full of Starfleet officers would no doubt have its own challenges. So far no one seemed to mind his lack of uniform so long as he spoke in a friendly tone and took on some of the medbay workload.

"Hope you haven't been waiting too long, Lieutenant Commander Ricci," he said, offering a friendly wave of his arm in the direction of the main area and letting her walk in ahead of him. "Everything okay?"

“As far as I know,” she replied, heading into sick bay. “It’s just new, you see. I’m supposed to have it checked every week for a bit, just to make sure everything is okay.”

"Ah okay, understood," Murray noted amicably. He was just new too, here helping out with anything or anyone the CMO didn't mind sharing. "Sorry I'm not up to speed with everything here yet. But c'mon through, and we'll have a look." He ushered Mara through to a screened area and indicated she could take a seat. "Is the arm causing you any issues?"

"Not a one," answered Mara, sitting where he had instructed her to. "It works even better than the original did. Once I got used to it, anyway."

"Oh really?" Murray raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What can it do that the old one couldn't?" He asked, his smile friendly as he reached out his own hand, palm upright, fingers extended. "Reach out and grip my wrist, please," he requested gently.

She did as instructed. "I can grip anything for any length of time and not have stiff fingers when I put it down," she answered. "So that's nice. I can increase my grip, but I have it set on the low end so I don't end up breaking something- or someone," she added. "But the best part is the touch sensitivity. And the heat resistance. Apparently, it can withstand up to 300° without ill effect. Might be useful for reaching into the matter/anti-matter reactor, but other than that, I can't think of a use."

"Neat," said Murray, but he infused that single word with genuine enthusiasm for the impressive tech. "My people see a definite beauty in differences, a perfection in flaws, cracks, survival and shared adventure. It is these things that make us, our explorations into danger and strife that define us. I see that the engineer in you sees not only an improvement, but new skillsets to be tested and utilised." A broad grin lit up his face. "And one day you might be glad of that ability to break something... or someone."

She released his wrist with a half grin. "I suppose I probably will," she replied, her mind immediately going to Gastorix and his disgusting Rider. She'd have loved to grip his neck with her new hand. And she'd love to break it. Next time, she promised herself. "Anyway. The itching has gone away completely. I mean at the connector," she added, taking off her uniform jacket so he could get a better look at said connector. She glanced down at the silver band just above her elbow. "If it weren't for this, I wouldn't even know anything was different," she added.

"Look like you had someone in mind there. But then I suspect you have a few interesting war stories?" Murray risked asking, keeping his tone jovial and light as he did so. He had no way to read her mind, but Mara's expression had dropped a subtle hint that he couldn't resist pursuing. He glanced down then as she showed him the point of connection, a beautifully light and subtle transition between new and original. "Is it Starfleet tech?" He asked, simply curious as to why Mara hadn't regrown the limb. Usually humans were vain creatures, but that wasn't a universal constant either. "Do you mind releasing the connector so that I can see both sides?"

"Sure," answered Mara with no hesitation. She placed her pinky and thumb together and slowly pulled down the middle finger with the right index finger of her right hand. The arm whirred and clicked and she caught it in her waiting right arm, then held it out to Doctor Jacobs.

"Thank you," Murray said, gently and he watched to see exactly how the separation was achieved. Taking the arm then, he placed it down, keen to examine the living end of this limb first. He locked eyes with Mara first. "I'm just going to poke and prod a little bit," he warned, then, assuming she allowed this, he proceeded to check the renewed flesh. First a scan, then a touch with his fingertips, then a nudge or two with the same followed by a simple nod. "All looks fantastic," he declared. "No problems at all, bar the phantom itching?" He double checked, then turned his attention to the prosthetic.

"Can you tell me how it happened?" He asked Mara. "Or would you rather not talk about it?"

"This disgusting creature by the name of Gastorox attempted to feed me to something called a 'rider,'" she replied, complete with air quotes. "I still don't know what it was, but it was spreading fast and the EMH felt the only course of action was amputation. Judging by what it had done to the person it was 'riding' on, it would have killed me very slowly."

Frown lines marred Murray's brow as he failed to gain a mental picture of either Gastorox or this mysterious rider. "What did you do to aggravate this vile creature?" He smiled, wryly. "Or did he simply decide you needed to be eaten for no real reason other than his own amusement?" Murray paused, considering the tale as he handed Mara the new half of her arm back. He didn't apologize for all the questions his curiosity was throwing out there. "And which one infected you?"

"He was trying to sell a bunch of us as slaves," Mara answered. "And Spires and I made a lot of noise and annoyed him. I think he might have wanted to feed us both to the rider." She shook her head. "He's a vile creature."

"As slaves?" Murray queried, sounding suitably shocked by this. "Damn. Well, for what it's worth," he continued. "Anyone who annoys a slaver is fine by me. Did you escape or they mount a rescue?" He paused. He had a lot of questions, but then he was new here. "And who's Spires?"

"Ingram sent a rescue party," she said. "They beamed Spires and me out just as the rider took hold of my arm. Spires is a reporter," she added, keeping her voice very carefully neutral. "He likes to tag along and generally irritate me." But, she couldn't keep all of the affection out of her voice, nor her expression from softening ever so slightly. Anybody with an ounce of observation could tell that what she said wasn't exactly how she felt.

"Good skills. You got lucky there. Sounds like it could have been way worse," noted the Rish medic. But he was listening to more than Mara's words. There was a second and third level of information here, and, despite a clear attempt to hide it, a definite tell when she spoke about this reporter. That was interesting. "Uh-huh," Murray said as the engineer spoke. "But you don't always mind the tagalong huh?" He asked, his lopsided grin softening the question just a little.

Damn! she thought. It seemed everyone could tell, no matter how hard she attempted to conceal it. “No,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. “He’s... well, we’re... I don’t know what word to put on it, so for lack of a better term, we’re involved.” She sighed, pursing her lips to one side. “That doesn’t fully cover it, but it’ll do.”

That grin of hers made Murray chuckle. "Hey," he told Mara with little shake of his head. "If you're happy, s'all good. No explanation, and no labels necessary." A nonchalant shrug followed. "You're not in trouble are ya - there some rule you're breaking?"

“Only a personal one,” she admitted. “As a rule, I don’t like or trust the Federation News Service; I’ve been the subject of too many lies. I make it work by not reading or listening to anything he writes.”

Murray nodded. "Personal rules are the more important ones," he said enigmatically. But he was curious with regards Mara's past now. Having checked her prosthetic over, he handed the forearm ceremoniously back to the engineer and raised one eyebrow as he regarded Mara in her entirety. "So, what you're saying is that you're infamous in the FNS circles? But you don't read anything your... boyfriend... writes?"

"Not infamous by name," Mara admitted, holding the prosthetic to the connector; it snapped in place on its own and whirred and clicked into place. "Just Starfleet engineers in general. But, yeah. I avoid reading his stuff because I like being on speaking terms with him."

He looked momentarily disappointed at this admission. "Well, that's not fair," Murray stated with a wry smile. "I was planning to go read up on your misadventures." He considered this whole situation for a second, then added with real curiosity in his direct question. "If you don't read what he writes, how do you know you should be on speaking terms with him?"

She grinned. “Good point,” she said. “Still what he writes is professional, not personal. I just have trouble keeping it separate.”

"Yeah, I guess I can understand that sentiment," Murray noted. "Never had anyone write about me, not to my knowledge at least." And that was fine by him. "Couple of ballads maybe, but not sure I can take full credit for that." A light shrug preempted his next statement. "Well, you're all good. Arm's perfectly okay, prosthetic's top notch. Good to go, unless there's anything else you want from me?"

"Not that I can think of offhand," answered Mara, standing. "Thanks, doc. Good to know everything's going well."

"Always welcome," Murray returned, cheerfully. "Any problems let me know. Pleasure to meet you, Commander."

"Likewise," answered Mara, and she headed for the door, glad to know that everything was good.


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