TEST DRIVE #6 - The Bridge and Ten Forward

[ten_fwd_mods]

Option 01. Ten Forward: The first thing you see is a bar. A large, lively bar filled with many different faces and many different smells, sights and sounds. This is Ten Forward, the Enterprise's off-duty lounge; feel free to get acquainted with your fellow travelers and try to find somebody who's in charge: this is your new home now, after all...





Option 02. The Bridge: Well, aren't you a lucky duck? You've found yourself in hallowed quarters. Wherever you were before, you're not there anymore. Now you're in a room that could be some kind of command center or control room; there's a captain's chair flanked by seats for his chief officers, computer panels and stations at each interior wall, and before you a broad viewscreen that shows the wide expanse of space rushing towards you. Have you ever wanted to be a starship captain for a day? Well, here's your chance. Feel free to roam around, but try not to touch anything shiny.


[OOC: The Bridge isn't usually available for in-game posts, so if you've ever wanted to play there, here's your chance!]

Comments

[asklepian]

The air leaves Julian's lungs all at once with the impact--it's rough, and strong, and he can tell still that it's not all the force that could have been brought to bear against him. He'd only been able to see it coming, not to do anything against it.

Every muscle in his body tenses, ready to fight and to flee, but he forces himself off red alert because he knows in this situation he's put himself in it won't do any good. He can't run anywhere, and if he was sure before that he didn't hold a candle to a 20th century Augment, that only proved it. He needs to be as non-aggressive as possible.

There's fear in his eyes, caution, but he's about as calm as one can be when faced with a raging Khan. But he can only start breathing again once the other man lets him go.

"You're going to work yourself into shock," Julian says levelly. You're not completely immune to it, you know.

[savagemind]

He's aware, if the flat look he aims at the doctor is any indication. Shock can affect him, but it requires much, much more effort - if he's gotten this close, he must have misjudged his injuries.

He coaxes his heart rate into something slow and steady - slower than a human could manage - taking as breathes as deeply as he can with a punctured lung. The cuts on his hands and neck have already closed, the more superficial ones already nothing more than red and angry-looking lines. The same, he knows, is happening internally, but severe damage requires more time. Time, and fuel, and sleep - all three of which he's lacked these past days.

"I'll heal," he eventually replies. It's dismissive, but not unduly so - it's a rare injury that he can't recover from.

[asklepian]

You were in a bloody starship crash (and it's good luck for you that Julian doesn't know about your crashing a starship into San Francisco, or he'd be far less willing to help you), that's probably enough to do it.

Wouldn't it be easier to let him help you? Damn but you're a stubborn one.

"You'd heal faster if you'd just let me help you. I'm still offering." It's an olive branch as much as anything. Julian knows who and what you are, and he's still willing to help.

[savagemind]

"Help how?" The suspicion is clear on Khan's face. A genuine need for medical treatment has been rare for him - the curiosity of doctors and scientists eager to exploit him, much more so.

But Bashir is still offering, despite having seen the face of Khan's fury already - had been offering before he ever revealed who he was. And as much as the idea rankles, the sooner he's healed, the sooner he can find a way out.

[asklepian]

Julian's face holds no sign of deception. He's completely earnest in his offer, and he really does have very few ulterior motives. Those he does have, he thinks are positive enough, thanks. Maybe if he does something to help you, you'll think before going off the rails.

"Your ribs won't set themselves before they start healing. Best to get that seen to. I can also staunch the internal bleeding faster than your natural healing process. That's all." He's not going to scan you, he's not going to inject you with anything suspect. Just a simple offer of assistance, because he is a doctor and that is what he does, dammit.

[savagemind]

It takes a long time for Khan to consider the offer, lips pressed thin and eyes searching Julian's face. He's certain he can set his ribs on his own, but the internal bleeding is leaving him chilled, his fingers numb. And the good doctor isn't lying about what he plans to do.

It's a risk, but the odds are in his favor. Any deviation in treatment can be dealt with if it happens - there's little chance the Julian would be able to stop him. And it's clearly something of a peace offering, some small overture of trust.

"Very well." The assent comes grudgingly, but it comes nevertheless. Don't make him regret agreeing.

[asklepian]

He's sure you could, but all in all isn't it best to leave this sort of thing to the professionals when they're available and genuinely interested in helping you?

"Just...please remain calm, alright?" Doctor McCoy isn't on duty right now, so hopefully he won't be in Sickbay. That would be a spectacular mess, to understate things dramatically. "Please. Just remember, no one here is out to harm you."

Well. Doctor McCoy wasn't going to be happy, but...

[savagemind]

Khan's expression clearly suggests he doubts that statement very much, but he's already made his decision. Doctor Bashir is either foolish or ethical enough to offer his help without deceit, and that's something he hasn't experiences in a long time - three hundred years, even.

He offers Julian a shallow nod of assent, but distinctly makes no promises. Given that he has no idea who is on this ship or how they might react to him, he reserves his right to defend himself by any means necessary. For now, he'll tentatively trusting Julian's judgement.

[asklepian]

Honestly...it's probably both.

Julian gives him a searching look, then turns to the controls for the turbolift, entering the code to get it moving again. It's a short ride to Sickbay, and if Khan doesn't decide to break it, it'll be spent in silence.

He's careful to watch for any signs that the elder man's superhuman strength is about to give out, but otherwise offers no assistance as they walk toward the doors. Much to Julian's relief, he was correct in assuming Doctor McCoy wasn't present--Doctor Crusher was in her office, but she wouldn't recognize Khan as he looked now. She wasn't about to jump to any conclusions.

The ensign that he'd put in a chokehold looks to have been dismissed already, probably told to take the rest of the day off, so they have the room about as to themselves as could be expected.

[savagemind]

The silence doesn't bother Khan - indeed, he's more interested in mapping the path they're taking than conversation. He's alert, back to assessing the ship, the Sickbay, even the crew members - every person they pass is another piece of data. The lack of reaction from the crew tells him that they are well used to such new arrivals, and the ship is efficient, well-organized despite its size; a clear sign of a respected Captain.

Everything is, of course, more advanced than he remembers; he'll need to acquire a PADD to correct his outdated knowledge.

Stepping into Sickbay, Khan allows Julian to lead him to one of the bed and perches, posture achingly straight, on just the edge. The lack of guards here is a small reassurance, but he keeps his eyes on the good doctor anyway.

"Well, Doctor Bashir?"

[asklepian]

Well, obviously he's meant to get on with it then.

Julian's not at all shy about what he needs to do--he's a doctor, this is his domain, and he is the professional here. "Shirt off, if you please. Can you get it without much pain?" He could probably palpate the bone through it, but best to be accurate. He preferred to get hands-on with this sort of thing, decreasing his dependence on technology where he could.

The osteo-regenerator would be making an appearance, though. He couldn't do everything himself.

[savagemind]

Khan doesn't even deign to reply to that question - this is far from the worst pain he's ever had - and his uniform shirt disappears in one swift, overhead motion.

The result is... well, a mess. His lack of a shirt reveals a remarkably fit torso, but the effect is ruined by the wide, ugly swath of purpling bruises that stretch from his flank all the way to his back. The ribs on his right side are subtly uneven, broken from where he must have slammed into the console upon impact, and several small, already-healing lacerations litter his arms. His breathing is still shallow, and his blood pressure is still low - what happened to him clearly would have killed a lesser man.

Any other patient would be in agony - or dead. But Khan remains as straight-backed as he was before, waiting for Julian's assessment as though he's done this a thousand time.

(He has, of course, but rarely with a doctor so... ethical.)

[asklepian]

Well that's obviously a no, then. And you say 'ethical' like it's a curse, really now.

He can see the breaks, hopefully the bones haven't already begun to knit, but they generally heal much slower than skin does, so it should be fairly safe. Julian's hands are steady, strong, and warm as he goes over the breaks, coaxing the ribs back into alignment. The temperature of Khan's skin is much lower than it should be, and feels a bit clammy--obviously far too much blood loss.

He'd like to give something for that as well, but somehow Julian thinks he wouldn't appreciate an injection, no matter how well-intentioned.

[savagemind]

More like a welcome surprise. Most of the doctors Khan has dealt with would have him restrained by now.

Julian's touch prompts little more than a quiet exhale, even as he feels the bones shift under his skin. The worst break is the one puncturing his lung - he doesn't flinch when it's aligned, but his breath stutters for half a second before he wills himself to keep his breathing even.

Still. Julian's hands are steady and clinical, which is more than he can say for most, and it's appreciated. "You're skilled in your work," he offers, finally. It sounds suspiciously akin to a compliment.

[asklepian]

Julian prefers to show at least some level of trust, and using restraints doesn't exactly show it. If he's offering an olive branch, it can't be with something else hiding behind his back.

He'll take it in the spirit in which it was given. He wasn't exaggerating when he said he was top of his class--second out of all of them, in fact, but he'd been holding himself back--and he prides himself on being genuinely good at what he does.

"Thank you," Julian says simply, looking carefully for any slight bulge or indentation in the skin that would indicate that he'd missed a bone. Confident that he hasn't, he pulls out the osteogenic stimulator and switches it on.

[savagemind]

It's an olive branch that seems to be working - for all of his snarling and pacing and aggression earlier, Khan makes for a startlingly well-behaved patient now. He spares only a cursory glance at the osteogenic stimulator before his attention refocuses on the Sickbay as a whole - who's coming, who's going, and more importantly, where all of the exits are located.

"How are you with history?" he asks, gaze still scanning their surroundings. It's not quite as off-handed a question as it sounds - he wants to know what he's missed. How far has the Federation's reach spread, these past hundred years?

[asklepian]

"Outside of my areas of interest, barely passable at best I'm afraid." Julian focuses the device on Khan's ribcage, letting it work.

It was, perhaps, not quite accurate. He remembered anything and everything he'd ever read or learned, history included, and could call the knowledge up if needed. But he'd already played enough cards right now, he needed to hold some of them back.

Sickbay is quiet--this is Starfleet at its finest, exploring and engaging in peaceful diplomacy, there's not much to do aside from research, and a few nurses and assistants are about, engaging in it. Only a few people come in, trading words with them--observations about experiments in the adjacent science lab, mainly, with a few scattered questions about plans for after shift ends.

[savagemind]

Julian gets a quiet hm in response, more thoughtful than judgmental. The device knitting his bones back together brings a welcome sense of ease, and he's able to draw deeper, more even breaths the longer it continues.

It's... odd, now. The lull of the Sickbay, the faint threads of conversation and the quiet, ever-present hum of a starship is almost soothing against his careworn nerves. But fury had kept his grief at bay - without it, he can feel the loss, as deep as his bones.

He's lost friends before. Family. But he's never been alone, not even when Marcus had held his crew hostage for his obedience. They had still been alive. Now he has nothing, and this new Enterprise has nothing to offer him.

Eventually, he realizes the silent has drawn on too long. ""I'll need a PADD, then," he says. He needs to do something, even if it's just research.

[asklepian]

Well, maybe not quite nothing. But Julian wasn't about to let slip his own little secret--he still needs to keep that quiet.

But he feels like perhaps the comparison that's always made him feel bitter and saddened--that there were few ways that people like him could be, either righteous all the time or hateful and full of rage and violence--was not quite as it should be.

He wasn't about to say that Khan wasn't dangerous. But he was capable of being reasoned with, and quiet contemplation, and obvious sadness. He was human too. Not just the vicious tyrant he'd been remembered as.

"I'll see what I can do."

[savagemind]

They'd all been human. They'd all suffered and loved and lived beyond the stark condemnations of history texts. History never cared that Joaquin struggled with nightmares but adored dogs, that Kati could play perfectly any instrument you put in her hands, that Otto could coax even the most barren soil into a beautiful garden. The winners write history, and now only Khan is left to remember his people as people.

They were more. They were better. But their genetic stock was still human, and in another life, another time? They could have been more than just the specter of genetic experimentation gone wrong.

But that is, perhaps, a conversation for another time. Khan merely nods, suddenly beginning to feel the bone-deep weariness that sometimes accompanies his rapid healing. "Thank you."

For more than just the medical care.

[asklepian]

Julian would be interested in hearing about them. Someday. He understands being so unilaterally despised--he'd feared it so terribly, and it had been a weight off his mind when everyone on the station had shrugged off the revelation of what he was and continued to take him for who he was. It had taken himself longer to realize that the world wasn't going to end just because everyone knew he was an Augment. It would be longer still before he stopped hating it.

But that is certainly a conversation for another time, if he breeches it at all.

"I'd ask how you'd gotten hurt in the first place, but I don't think I'd like the answer."

It's open-ended, if Khan would like to volunteer the information. Judging from his violent reaction to anyone wearing a uniform, his comment that the Enterprise had been severely damaged (if not outright destroyed, but he hadn't sounded certain of Captain Kirk's death, so he couldn't discount it being merely crippled), Julian was of the mind they had an impending explosion on their hands. He'd been against the Enterprise crew, Julian was sure of it--just as had happened in this timeline, eventually. He didn't know if Doctor McCoy was from before or after that point.

He just continues working, healing the fractured arm next. His job is not to judge--though admittedly he was sometimes rather bad about that--his job is to keep everyone in one piece.

[savagemind]

There's a thoughtful hum - telling doctor Bashir exactly what had transpired was likely to lose him a potential ally. The man was not unintelligent - he would have easily picked up on Khan's wariness, his hostility towards Starfleet. He's made no attempts to hide it.

"You wouldn't." Because he can see now that Julian is a healer first. The loss of life that no doubt resulted from Khan's actions would appall him. "My ship was too damaged to sustain orbit. I was disinclined to attempt to save it."

Which is, perhaps, the most delicate way of putting 'I crashed my starship into a planet in a fit of suicidal vengeance' ever.

[asklepian]

Khan was certainly right there. Defending oneself was one thing--and Julian could understand defending himself from Section 31, which he'd neatly divorced from Starfleet in his head.

But his mind is working, and he knows what's being held back there is who he was fighting with. Nevermind where he crashed. He realizes he's more than likely providing medical assistance to someone who was, nominally, an enemy. He'd probably end up in the brig before too long, simply for the attack on one of Captain Picard's crew. But he still would be treated at some point--may as well be now.

"In a battle against the Enterprise," he says calmly, a slight tone of questioning in his voice. He doesn't want to assume. But he's fairly sure he's right. "What about your crew?"

Even a ship the size of the Defiant needed crew, and it was so much smaller than most others. He didn't know how large the ship Khan was on had been, but he could assume it was larger than the escort ship.

[savagemind]

The division isn't so clear to Khan - Section 31 is merely an extension of Starfleet, in his mind, a neither acting without the approval of the other.

But it doesn't matter, because as soon as the question is out of the doctor's mouth, Khan is abruptly stilling, posture ramrod-straight and fists clenched. "My crew is dead," he says, words slower and diction crisper for all the plain grief and fury behind them. "They were murdered in their sleep by Commander Spock."

And here, now, he feels more hatred for Spock than he ever did Marcus. The Admiral was a despicable creature, low enough to exploit Khan by using his family against him, but ultimately still afraid of the augments - too afraid to go through with killing them, as he had threatened so many times. Spock, however, had done just that, beamed over the bodies of Khan's sleeping family and let them explode in the belly of his ship.

He'd wanted to kill him. But with the Vengeance crippled, he'd taken the next best option - destroy the institution that had enabled their deaths. Go down with his ship, and be with his family at last.

[asklepian]

Except as someone in Starfleet, he knows the rank-and-file has absolutely no knowledge of them. Unless they've been approached, like himself. They're separate from Starfleet, and not subject to the same rules as the Fleet.

Julian knows he's about to step on a landmine the moment the words are out of his mouth, he can feel the tension in the air rising. He'd meant the crew of the starship--but Khan had taken it to mean the other Augments who'd been aboard the Botany Bay. He doesn't protest that Spock would have done no such thing--he never met the man personally, but he knows that his strength of character wouldn't have allowed it. Certainly would have allowed for tricking him, though that seemed cruel. But in the heat of a battle, if it had been the only option...Julian knows he'd have done something just as drastic to protect his own people.

It was really no wonder that Khan had been so furious. Ready to tear through all of them. Julian would have felt similarly. But if it's his first reaction, he's going to be in the brig for his entire time here, and Julian wouldn't say it would be uncalled for.

There was the promise of violence in his shoulders and hands, if anyone said the wrong thing just then. Julian moves to the replicator, instead of opening his mouth, and orders two cups of tea, coming back and offering one before sitting on the opposite biobed with the second.