Thank ya Mr. Holliday for the response. I am glad to know he is in safe hands, and that ya are helping in this matter, despite ta unrest in ta Omegas. As I mentioned before, if ya need anything on my end, please don't hesitate to ask!
Hello again Mr. Golanski, a pleasure to speak to ya once again!
I figured your expertise could be of use here as well lad. Now, as far as I know, Kierin has not encountered them before in this capacity or proximity, though our run ins with ta Nomads happen on occasion. Though normally they are shootin' their purple crap at us. Since his transmission to meh, I do not believe any further vision have transpired, though being in ta state he is in, he wouldn't be able to tell us if more have come. At least until he is awake.
Once he is awake though lad, and I get a report from Doc Holliday, I'll forward ya what I can and see what can be made from all this.
I am curious though, has ta Order or anyone reported this happenin' before? Such "visions" that cause such unrest? If ya can, please let meh know. It is an area that I am interested in delving into further, in conjunction with ta Order of course and Doc Holliday, and researching further ta effects on the human mind when receiving such "visions", or when encountering ta Nomads in close proximity.
In fact, it happens often. Most cases are likely to never be revealed but anyone who has met a Nomad is potential target. What we call Marduks or simply Nomad battleships, can deliver most powerful blows which can cause damage up to instant death. Considering rather vivid experience of your captain, you can expect side effects over time until he recovers fully.
Such side effects can appear in forms of repeated visions, echoing. Weeks long seizures and extreme stress are to be taken into account, first time results in most powerful damage done. Your job should be treating him over potential brain damage, noting everything he says and offer him several was to get rid of the stress.
I am not an expert at it, but that is what I have advisors for...
There are some meds that are able to help his shattered state of mind. Cryer has created line of psychotropic pharmaceuticauls that incidentally aid in reducing post-Nomad related attack stress. Doubtful they realized.
Order produces limited ammount of much stronger, specialized meds that are distributed among Order to specifically deal with related issues among our ranks. You would have to bring your patient into Omicron Mu for treatment.
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Doc arrived at the room and began examining the patient after a brief meeting with his staff. With him was his chief Nomad research scientist, brought on board the case after some study.
The patient was comatose as Doc examined him. His vitals were normal for the time as were his pupils. He then turned to his associate, "Until he's awake, there's not much else I can tell."
Doc then put restraints on the man as a precaution, remember the last time he had a Nomad case on ship where the patient killed a nurse and turned the meds off. This time, he would stay in the room awaiting the patient's awakening.
As he laid there, Kierin could vaguely make out voices in the distance. Muffles here and there, but nothing his mind could latch onto. As he tried focusing on one of the voices, his mind slowly started sending thought after thought, gradually building up into a wave of thoughts and memories.
*How did I get here??* he thought to himself, though the answer never arrived. The only thoughts prevalent in his mind was playing Chess as well as a beautiful landscape, filled with blues and purples. He tried thinking harder as to the significance of such thoughts, but even those were absent of any discernible connection to some founded memory.
Pushing those frequent thoughts aside, he attempted once more to focus his mind on his surroundings. He noticed that he no longer could hear the mumbles and faint voices anymore. Just beebs and electronic sounds around him. Occasionally, he thought he heard a cough, nearer than the voices he heard before.
"Uhhh. Who's thereeee ugh" He attempted to speak, but was unable to formulate the words he longed to say. It was so easily said in his head, but his mouth would not formulate those thoughts into coherent speech. *Where am I? Who's there? Why cannot I not remember anything but vague, repeating images?*
It was then he tried the bold move of moving his arms and legs...
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Doc stood next to him as he tried to move as he began scanning him with a bio-scan tool.
"Welcome to Med.Force.One," he told the man, "I am Dr. John Holliday, owner, founder and your physician for now."
He paused a moment, "Forgive the restraints but it's precaution in this ward of the ship as are the two Klingon guards outside your door."
Doc finished his scan which showed otherwise normal signs, "So, what images do you keep seeing?"
Kierin looked around for the source of the voice, and eventually laid eyes on the Doctor speaking to him. As he did, his eyes widened, and images rushed to his head. Images of a chess board, with various people as the pieces. In the background, the man calling himself Doc Holliday, was nodding then turning around and leaving the board. As if not a pawn in this game.
"I... I see you. I see people. I see... Oh god. I see our death. I see blue and purple, but just as vague sha... ugh" his voice cuts off as searing pain shoots through his head, as if a migraine of intense proportions suddenly hit him. He clamps his eyes shut hard in order to quell the pain.
He motions towards the light and shakes his head, indicating the light is too bright for him to open his eyes again.
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Doc nods and out of comfort for his patient, he turns down the light. It's enough to see but dark enough not to hurt someone disliking of bright light.
He then took a seat next to him and gently took his arm.
"You are safe here," he re-assured, "try to relax." He watched as the man was trying to but struggling. Nearby, Doc had a hypo of a sedative it was needed just out of view of the patient. He'd rather not use it but would if he got violent.
"You speak of death.....shades of blue and purple," he asked him, "what more can you tell me?"
Kierin struggled against the onslaught of pain and images infecting his attempts to free himself from his own mind. Whenever he forced his mind to dispel the images, a unknown source would force pain and vivid imagery back in. Eventually though, the pain subsided and he was able to grasp some coherence and control.
"Oh god the pain! You can't imagine it... It's... controlling my mind. It won't release me!" With that he lost himself again to screams.
After a short time, the pain stopped, utterly and completely. "I'm free. My mind is free! Oh, such relief you don't understand." As tears streamed down his face, he collected his thoughts.
"N..." He fell short of finishing the word, as if his mouth couldn't quite grasp the ability to vocalize what he was thinking. "Nnnnn. Ugh. Nnnnnnoo. Damnit!" With a rush of will, he screamed out. "Nnnnnoooommmaaaaad!!!"
With that, the pain returned, and he collapsed back into his bed.
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Doc was trying not to use sedatives but perhaps a mild hypo would help here. If indeed there was a Nomad involved, a strong one may make things worse. He grabbed the hypo and began mixing it but hesitated once finished. He put it back down and decided to put to use what little he knew.
"Kierin," he said, "try relaxing and opening your mind. The more you struggle, the more it hurts."
Doc then remembered that this man was a member of the Order and was more hated by the Nomads than anyone else. He then decided to try something a little different.
"Kierin, say that you're sorry...very sorry...for what you've done," Doc instructed.
He patted him, "Just trust me on this."
Kierin jumped up from his bed, blinking rapidly in an effort to clear his blurry vision. Scanning the room around him, he was unfamiliar with the setting, not what he remember from when he closed his eyes a moment before.
"I... is anyone there? Hello?" Looking around, no was there to return his question.
Looking around again, his eye caught the monitor situated on the nightstand next to his bed. *That cannot be* he thought to himself, not able to comprehend what he was looking at. The date. The date on the monitor. As he squinted his eyes in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all, the realization sunk in. The moment he thought it took from him speaking to Doc and now was 8 months. 8 months was but a flash of light to Kierin.
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