Second Guessing

Posted on Tue Jun 6th, 2023 @ 4:46pm by Lieutenant Commander Lyra Cassiel & Endia

Mission: S1 Episode 5: Ex Post Facto
Location: Banea
Timeline: Date 2371-08-18 at 1400
1285 words - 2.6 OF Standard Post Measure

ON

In the heat of the moment, this whole scenario had seemed like a good idea. Take the Terran woman, frame her for murder, let the Baneans implant the fabricated engram that contained the information his people needed to clinch victory, frame the Baneans for capturing her and relocating her, and then once they had what they needed from her mind, present her back to the Terrans to paint the Numiri as saviors. The Terrans had approached the Baneans first; that had been an unacceptable risk. On paper, it was solid and Revrell had convinced him of it easily enough and despite their losses, Azan had been confident in the chance of plans.

In practice, however, it was proving to be quite a different story.

Azan had been summoned with urgency to the medical bay where the extraction procedures were being performed on the Terran woman. He had gotten word that things weren't going as smoothly as planned but this summons was different in its urgency. He swept through the hallway and immediately entered the room without pausing a single beat.

The Terran woman was on the bed, restrained but writhing against them. Pain was clearly written on her beautiful face, but her gritted teeth and balled hands communicated rage. Judging by the movement of her eyes, she was caught in another memory cycle, and yet here he found the medical staff standing by doing nothing. A frown appeared on his reptilian face - he was the only one presenting his true Numiri self among them.

"What is going on here? Why aren't you performing the extraction procedures?" Azan looked around at each Banean face in the room.

“It seems we may have miscalculated, Azan.” A shrill voice came from the lead doctor of the team. Worry was written across his temporary Banean features. “The procedure is less compatible with Terran physiology than we first anticipated. If you look at the readings, you’ll see that her vitals are spiking dangerously. Any further extraction could kill her.”

The frown on Azan’s face deepened. “What do you mean? I thought you were addressing the issues.”

“We’ve been trying,” another spoke up, “but we still haven’t settled on the exact issue. Staggering the extractions has seemed to help some but-”

“Enough. Enough!” Azan demanded and glowered at the group. “The other Terran was able to escape the system and is likely alive. We need the information this one holds inside of the memory engrams. If any of you have any suggestions on how to facilitate that, I’m listening.”

“There is a high chance that the only way we will get the information we’re after is to kill her. And if the Terrans find out it was us…our plan will backfire tremendously.” said the lead doctor, his eyes widening with anticipation of such an event. They were playing with fire, and he didn’t want the destruction of their race to be on his head.

From the back of the group, one of the youngest members of the team furrowed his brow and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“There…there might be a way we can safely remove the information!” he said, finally, taking a step forward. “Her mind enters a panicked state under the standard set of drugs, but if we do a bit of gene therapy to modify her brain chemistry, she might have a reaction more akin to one of our people.”

“But the side effects are unpredictable.” The other doctor said, dismissively. “It would likely weaken her mental control and make her much more emotional and sensitive. And, if it doesn’t work, it could kill her anyway.”

Azan listened to the two other men, giving the chance to speak as he said he would. However, when both options presented ended in less than ideal circumstances, his expression soured further. “You want to perform gene therapy on this woman when you can’t even figure out an appropriate mixture of drugs to give her? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Not to mention if she does survive, they’ll undoubtedly notice those modifications and that would be much harder to explain away..”

He shook his head. “How many more extractions can she survive?”

The one who had mentioned staggering the extractions interjected, “Two, maybe three with staggering them.”

He then looked to the young doctor and the leader. “And if we were to entertain this gene therapy, what is the projected percent of success?”

The young doctor pressed his anxiety at the question. There were no certain bets in their field, and what they were doing was experimental from the start.

“I’d say somewhere between 70 and 85 percent. Outside of that, she could be obviously damaged or killed.” He answered, and then followed it up with a more defensive statement. “A far better chance than our original plan though, at this point. If we still want the information from her, this is our best chance.”

“It’s too risky.” Said the lead doctor through clenched teeth. “The chance of this being tracked back to us is far too great. We should stick with the original plan and, if the Terran woman dies, we destroy her body and make ourselves scarce.”

Azan grit his teeth. For a medical procedure, those odds weren’t really that bad even when he factored in a ten percent drop. Still, the risk was too much for the moment. “Since you are all in agreement that one more extraction likely won’t kill her. I will approve another delay for her next cycle, but the following cycle you will proceed as planned with your best people to glean as much information as possible. I will consider the other options presented.”

The lead doctor nodded, triumphant. He would have a chance to get what they needed from the Terran before the risky plan was forced upon him.

“We will skip this cycle and allow her to rest. The next extraction will resume at 1600 tomorrow.” He said. “Until then, we will focus on nursing the Terran’s health and making sure she has plenty of fluids to improve the chance she will continue to survive.”

The Doctor walked over to Lyra, his eyes on her shapely body, traveling from her feet up to her face. She was a beautiful creature. He reached out and placed his hand on her stomach, moving up slightly toward a breast but stopping himself.

Azan quirked a brow and watched the senior doctor for a moment, but it was the woman who spoke up first.

“I’ll see to that.” She said with a look and tone to her colleague that communicated her disgust at what he was doing and partially insinuating. Her attention was drawn to Lyra when the woman shifted and pulled at her restraints. “Get her back to her cell before she regains full consciousness.”

Shaking his head, Azan reached up and rubbed his face. “See to it she is taken care of then. I expect reports on her status and progress.”

“You’ll have them.” The lead doctor said with a frown. He was oblivious to the reactions of those around him at that moment, only looking at Lyra again and lingering before peeling himself away to document their conclusions.

Though Lyra's senses were addled by the drugs they had given her coupled with the constant, ever intensifying pain she was experiencing. The voices around her sounded like echoes at the end of their projection, but she could hear just enough to piece together their intentions.

To piece together she was going to die if she didn't get out of here.

END