SubAccount: Abas Th'vyrrol

[Sickbay]

It seemed nothing could go right, some days. The crew, already on edge as the Challenger was bearing for a fight, was suddenly rousted from her preparations with the call to action stations. Why, who knew. It was far too early for them to have arrived anywhere near the known hotspots of Federation activity - Earth could not have fallen so quickly. No, this had to be something else. No matter what happened, Sickbay would stand to their duties. As the red pulsing lights and rythmic klaxon continued to sound, a flurry of preparation. The walking wounded or those close to discharge were sent out. Dutifly, these rapid discharges were recorded and noted, in case they had to return later. For now, however, the crew needed all the bodies they could find on the line.

As Sickbay finished, a roster check of the duty staff and locations was performed. It seemed one of the newer medical officers, a Doctor Grippen, was on the Bridge. That simplified the matter of reporting Sickbay's status. After confirming with the other crew, Abas tapped the wall panel by his triage station. Sickbay to Dr. Grippen. Medical department reports ready, he said, keeping the report short and to the point. The bridge crew would inform them if they were needed.

[Sickbay]

Abas had finished restocking - once again - his medical bag. After being summoned to the observation lounge, he'd assisted the Chief and woken up the (strangely bootless) former kidnappee. It always seemed when trouble was around, it was the same folks over and over again. Regardless, they were his crew. They were his responsibility. The rumor mill had been working overtime - and unfortunately this time it seemed the news was all bad. Rumors ranged from a fleet of Borg cubes attacking every major Federation outpost to a single, massive cube eating the planet whole. It seemed that the Borg had been able to compromise all or part of Starfleet, but the exact extent of the damage still wasn't known. The Challenger was now screaming toward home, the thrum of the warp core and vibrations in the deck plates giving away just how much stress was being put on the venerable ship. They'd have to be careful not to fly her apart.

He felt one of the Doctors exit the room - the mood tense. People stood to their duties, but if the whole of Starfleet had already been taken out, what chance did one heavy cruiser stand against a foe that had already immobilized their greatest ships? Abas thought of home. Was the Andorian Imperial Guard sharing in the fate of Starfleet? A bunch of burning, dead hulks, broken in space? Were the fires now burning out what little oxygen remained on Earth spacedock as the remaining crew tried to save the stricken station?

Was there anyone left to save, or were they sailing into a mass grave, only to join the fallen?

No. Those thoughts were unworthy of his station right now. He still had work to do. His destiny was not complete. He wouldn't give up now - and he refused to accept the worst. He would do his duty. He'd live true to himself. For now, however, he still had to prepare. Abas bowed his head, his antennae folding in on himself as he immersed himself in his thoughts, preparing mentally for the trials ahead.

[USS-Challenger |Medical Facility]

"œAarwendil Cheizex. And who are you?" the Ensign asked out of curiosity. He didn't remember seeing this person before. Whatever was his answer, the Betazoid would answer the man's question. "œI'm angry because the Changelings are once again attacking us. They devastated my homeworld and now they are doing it again with the entire Federation!" the young Betazoid wasn't born during the occupation of Betazed, but the stories that he heard from his family was enough to make his blood boil.

Once again Aarwendil's emotions would be flowing out of him, to the point of even affecting Doctor Fallow. On the other hand, Nekab had remained with the same stoic expression. "œPerhaps we could start a therapy with Vulcan meditation to control your emotions, until this side effect disappears."

[Sickbay]

"My name is Abas. I'm part of the medical crew here," he said, dropping any reference of rank or proper role. Practically, it didn't matter. Right now, he was here to heal and help people. Sometimes, that meant being a little more personable. Other times, you had to keep your distance. It all depended on what the patient needed. "It's okay to be angry," he said, nodding as he sat by the man. "You are angry with every right. But do not let that anger define you. If you let your anger control you, your anger will become you."

It was all Abas could do to resist the emotions flowing from the man. Years of his training and experience with empathic abilities back home were keeping him in control, and allowing him to resist the man's unintentional onslaught as best he could. "Focus on the here and now. The Federation is here. We are here. To help others, we must help ourselves. We need to work on what we can control - and then work on what we can't control. The Challenger needs you, Ensign. The Federation needs you in the here and now."

As Nekab spoke up, Abas's antennae flexed. "I am unfamiliar with Vulcan meditation, but perhaps it could help. Ensign, are you willing to try? For the Challenger?"

He tried to focus the man on what was truly important - the here and now. If the situation was as dire as the rumor mill suggested, they would need every able-bodied crewman, ready or not, to defend the ship and crew. They were all in this together, and the crew was only as strong as their weakest link.

His attention was drawn as a new casualty was brought into the medical ward. Even from the smell, it was obvious the poor crewmember had suffered second and third-degree plasma burns over a good portion of their body. Likely due to an EPS conduit rupture somewhere on the ship. Thankfully, the man was swiftly attended to by the crew in the medical ward. Only moments later, the man's moans subsided as a flow of strong painkillers and dermal regenerators did their work, subsiding the pain and healing what damage it could.

[Later]

Mackenzie tae sickbay. he called, tapping his new com badge. Send someone up to the Observation Lounge. Chief ch'Verret's knocked out on the floor. Looks like he took one in the head.

Abas looked over to the Doctor, who nodded.

Sickbay acknowledges. On our way.

He grabbed his bag and marched out of the medical ward. Moments later, he arrived in the Observation Lounge. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, as he stepped in, before noting the Chief unconscious on the floor. "Ah..."

[USS-Challenger |Medical Facility]

Aarwendil was still fuming about the Changeling attack on Frontier Day when another member of the crew approached him, basically ordering the Betazoid to control himself. "What do you mean?" he asked, completely confused. This exchange was enough to distract him from the events that were transpiring on Earth, this way the rage that was flowing from him stopped.

"This wasn't his fault." a monotonous voice answered Abas' question. "You had been spreading your emotions.[/color]" Nekab said, returning with Doctor Fellows from their tour around the medical facility. "Apparently the yanmarr's pheromones had the side effect of disturbing your empathic abilities."

The Ensign stared at the Romulan in shock. "I thought that the vaccine would have stopped the effects!"

Nekab nodded. "Indeed, it stopped most of them. However, I theorize that what you are suffering is only a temporary minor symptom, but more tests are necessary." the Romulan approached the Ensign to start the exams. Aarwendil sat, while using his hand to cover his face.

First the shame from early, now losing control of his emotions.

This was indeed a terrible day.

[Sickbay]

It seemed that the distraction and interruption of the man - even if it was simply just to keep him from fuming in isolation - had been enough to at least deaden the effects of the outraged Betazoid on the rest of the crew. While Abas held no formal rank or position on the crew to issue orders in day-to-day life, but in the medical realm? That was a different story. He had the positional authority in sickbay on a wide variety of topics - so long as he was right.

Moments later, the cause of the outburst was made clear. The man had suffered from the same infection as some of the Vulcans on the surface. On the positive side, however, it sounded like progress had been made on containing or curing the disease. This is what caused the breakdown in emotional control. It was interesting that this had caused the emotions to be projected so strongly - worthy of further research later. For now, however, the Ensign needed someone to listen more than a continued lecture.

"What is your name, Ensign?" he asked, pulling out a stool and sitting next to the man while the Romulan doctor continued their work. "This is not your fault. Do not blame yourself. I understand you are upset. I also am angry about our fellow fleetmates. But we must focus on our duties. Tell me what you are feeling," he opined to the man. Hopefully, Abas could serve as a sounding board for the man, to help at least re-focus himself. At the very least, he could try and listen and prevent further explosions of emotion.

[Sickbay]

Abas had primarily been minding his own business when the pit of his stomach felt like it had been metaphorically dropped out from under him. An overwhelming wave of concern hit him as his antennae shot straight up into the air, and only moments later the Captain's emergency order came through to stand fast. Something had gone wrong in a hurry.

The rumor mill on a starship was the second most powerful engine on a starship - second only to the maelstrom that was the warp drive. In moments, various conflicting reports were shooting through the enlisted crew like wildfire - from a massive Borg attack on the Klingon Empire to the Q declaring war on Starfleet. None of them seemed very plausible, until a more confirmed report came through. Something had happened at Frontier Day - where the bulk of the fleet had been massing to celebrate the Federation. It wasn't clear who was shooting, but what was clear was that there were at least a few wolves in sheep's clothing.

Moments later, the recall alarm klaxon was replaced with the high-pitched wail of the red alert klaxon. The ship was in danger - and it was their duty to respond. With practiced precision, Sickbay became a flood of activity. The team prepared to receive casualties, as the tactical teams above prepared to do everything they could to inflict casualties on the enemy.

It wasn't long before he felt the vast wave of emotion flowing from one of the new arrivals. A Betazoid, if he was correct. The man was letting his emotions flow freely, and Doctor Fellows had put the man in isolation. He strode over to the man, looking down at him with concern as he could feel the waves like rip-currents flowing off the man. "Ensign," he said, trying to snap the man back to control. "Contain yourself. What seems to be the matter?"

[Sickbay]

Abas had been assigned to continue to attend to Kyan. As such, he beamed away with the Captain in a flash. As he beamed out, he offered an apologetic look to the Catian. He'd heard the officer's request for him to stay behind - but the Captain and ship needed him elsewhere. He walked with Kyan to the Sickbay, offering what information he could about the man. He let the chief nurse and doctor take over the care- there wasn't much he could do at the moment beyond that. For now, he simply stood by for any additional orders that might come his way.

While the kidnapped officer was roughed up and bruised, there didn't seem to be too many signs of further immediate medical issues. Ideally, he'd prefer to keep Kyan under quarantine for a number of days, he was unlikely to be able to enforce this wish. The man's speech was quite vulgar, at least in part, but this was understandable given the nature of what had just occurred. Kyan seemed to have a strange fascination with his shoes - but Abas didn't understand the aversion to replicating new ones. They took mere moments to do. Oh well, people would become locked onto and fascinated with the strangest things. Before he had a chance to inquire more about the "Ugly Green Bitch" that Kyan was muttering about, it seemed the Captain had arrived - unnoticed by Abas sucked into his work - and answered for him. He simply continued his work, finishing quickly doing what he could for the man.

"Commander, I strongly suggest you return with me to Sickbay for further examination," he interjected when he had a spare moment. "We just want to make sure that you are okay, and treat anything you may have come in contact with down here."

He didn't actually expect the officer to agree - the crew of a ship rarely listened to medical advice anyways, until the commander mentioned something called a behavior machine. He snapped his tricorder back on, pulling up the man's medical profile and trying to compare brainwave patterns. "If you were subjected to attempted behavioral reconditioning, I'm afraid I now have to insist on you returning to the ship, sir," he opined, grateful that the Captain seemed to agree. Looking up to the rest of the group, but to none of the officers in particular, he spoke up. "Sirs, should I return to the ship with the Commander or stay here with the away team?"

He knew the medical teams on the Challenger were more than up to the task, but at the same time, he was loath to just let someone else finish work he had started. That call however was not his to make - and there were still wounded or dead here to tend to. He noted how uncomfortable some were in the room, a wash of emotion filling the room where once there had been adrenaline and phaser fire. A different sort of battle. One hopefully they didn't make a habit of undertaking.

[Hideout]

As quickly as the battle had started, it was over. The criss-crossing of light ceased, as the Klingons did what they did best - battle to the death. The only thing scarier than a Klingon charging you down was not seeing the Klingon you knew was charging you down. Abas did what he could for the wounded, triaging and calling out for the wounded where he could. Before he even got to the missing officer, he had to stabilize and evacuate one of the injured security. He quickly called up the Challenger, his training kicking in with a basic 9-liner request to have the officer beamed directly to the trauma ward.

As the security officer was whisked away to higher care, notably away from a place where they could get shot more, he worked his way over to the little man. It wasn't lost on him that the engineering Chief had quickly made himself scarce, and the fact that the reason he gave was a lie was evident to Abas, but he kept his tongue. There was no shame in not enjoying combat. Battle and conflict were almost never unavoidable, and every loss of life, no matter the side, no matter how justified one group thought they were, was always regrettable.

There would be time to mourn the dead later. For now, there was still a job to be done.

He cracked open his tricorder and medical kit as he knelt down at Kyan, doing his best to perform a complete head-to-toe examination. He'd of course want to insist on the officer being taken to Sickbay and confined there for the time being, but for now, he could at least perform the initial intake. "Sir, how are you feeling?", he asked, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he could.

Simultaneously, he opened his mind, trying to sense anything Kyan might be trying to hide, to truly see if he was okay, or if anything else might be going on. He'd do his best to serve, despite his limited understanding of onlie physiology. Who knows what he'd find?

[Andgarr Prime]

Abas hadn't yet met other Andorian on the crew who ch'Verret had been thinking of, Valis. While he was generally familiar with the medical situation and breakdown of the crew, he didn't know everyone. Trying to commit the entire crew to memory was, frankly, a futile effort. Anyone who tried to was sure to burn themselves out and become over-stressed, and a sure candidate for psychological evaluation. He listened as the man spoke, while also trying to keep an ear out for the situation around him. While Abas had not heard the Chief's alias before, he raised an eyebrow at the reference. DJ? As in, disc jockey? An odd nickname, but one to investigate when there was less pressing matters to attend to. He briefly summarized what he knew, passing on information as to the current security status as well as how long the 'kid' had been missing. He didn't have all of the answers, but he filled in as much as he could regarding the current situation.

He didn't have to wait long for someone much more qualified to fill in the rest of the details - and the crew began their search. He assisted where he could - working on isolating bio-patterns, comparing them to the ship's database, and serving to keep the search team as prepared as they could. One couldn't go into battle without food and sustenance, after all. His business was the health of the crew - and he would see to it as best as he could.

[Later]

Thankfully, their search appeared to be bearing fruit. The ship's crew had managed to locate the missing officer, and even better, they were ready to beam the team in to extract him. As the Captain's voice cut off from the tiny speakers, and the crew made their last-minute preparations, he knelt down. Why make a bigger target than he had to, when there were so many fine security officers who's whole job was dealing with the fire?

His two-year stint in the Andorian Guard had made him very familiar with a great many types of operation - some peaceful, unfortunately most not. While he would not use violence himself, Abas had a duty to any and all who were injured - regardless of what side they were on. He would do his duty - no matter the situation. That isn't to say he would just stand there and get shot at, however. He didn't have a death wish.

[LZ]

The whine of the transporter faded as quick as it had started, with the crew beaming in to... the perfect kill-box. Weapons fire erupted in the small space, beams of light and bolts of energy criss-crossing in the space as the smell of acrid burning began to quickly fill the air. Two security officers - thankfully none of the Challenger's crew - were cut down almost instantly from a sequence of disruptor blasts. Nonetheless, he had a job to do. Perhaps the officers could still be saved, though from how they had fallen, it seemed unlikely. Staying low, he reached out to one of the fallen officers and grabbed ahold of their collar, dragging the unfortunate soul into whatever semblance of cover he could find.

For all of the weapons fire around, he was remarkably calm. While the screams and commotion of combat filled the air, Abas kept his breathing level and almost zen-like. It was only moments later that Lahr pulled him down, only for a disruptor bolt to fly straight past where his head was a mere two seconds beforehand. "Thanks," he said, not turning away from his work, shaking his head before moving on to the next casualty. The first officer hit was already gone. There was nothing he could do for them. "Understood, Chief. Stay alive," he responded, before flinching as another blast hit very much too close to home.

As the Chief cleared a small alcove, enough for cover, Abas vaulted for the other fallen Andgarr, dragging them into cover before cracking open his tricorder and seeing if anything could be done. With the cover of the counter, which was enough to withstand the indirect fire coming its way for the moment, he continued his work, using his enhanced senses to try and paint a mental map of the area. The good news, however, was that he didn't have to stick his head out in order to see what was occurring. "Chief. Drop!" he said, as he sensed a weapon being turned toward their direction. Hopefully with his warning, the man could evade the incoming fire.

Abas busied himself with performing battlefield triage on anyone who he could see or reach - ducking out into the line of fire briefly if the need came to drag fallen or wounded to the shelter the Engineer had cleared. Hopefully the fight would be over soon - but until then, he had a duty to perform.

[Minutes Prior - Angdarr Prime]

It seemed the blue-clad officer by him had quite the handle on things. While the disease was still a mystery, perhaps the Lieutenant would be able to isolate and identify it. Perhaps then, the medical section could assist the man with developing a cure. He looked over at the human... no, not human. There was something strange about the officer in front of him. Not quite human, much more aged and knowledgable. It was for sure something to identify later, but just as his presence was felt by the Lieutenant, he too felt something. A presence, more an awareness he felt of the person. Odd... perhaps...

Best of Luck, Lieutenant, he said, but not with his voice. If his suspicions were correct, the man would hear it plainly. A much more efficient and comfortable form of communication. In case his suspicions were wrong, he simply nodded his head, his antennae flexing back as he received his new orders.

[Present Time]

As Abas stood ready to assist in whatever manner he was requested, he turned toward the Caitian Lieutenant as the voice of the man filtered toward him. He'd only gotten partially through his question when the security officer's comm traffic basically exploded with activity, as the search and rescue operation truly got underway. However, the Lieutenant seemed to be capable of handling himself with grace and accuracy as the carefully choreographed chaos unfolded.

For as quickly as the commotion had started, it was over. The Caitian started moving away quickly, and Abas had to double-pace himself to keep up. As they moved, he found he had the time to answer the earlier question.

"Of a sort, Lieutenant. Aenar are naturally telepathic, though we are blind. My senses however are enhanced and superior, a welcome trade-off. We also have a limited form of precognition."

He didn't elaborate much - but he got his point across. He didn't know the kidnapped officer, so he didn't know if he'd be able to accurately assist in any way with the search beyond looking for someone who didn't belong - but he'd do his best. Only a few moments later, and their meager band of two had expanded with a much larger - and armed - search party. A handful of security officers, a Klingon, and... an engineer from a very familiar species. It was always good to see someone from the ice moon, even so far away. Their motley crew assembled, he simply awaited orders, as the assembled cast milled around. Abas wandered around, before sauntering up to the Engineering petty officer.

"Chief," he said, by way of introduction. "Crewman Th'vyrrol. Welcome to the party", he said with the faintest trace of a wry grin on his face.

Hopefully, they'd be able to find their wayward man and be back to peace when they were done.

[The Enclave - Not on an oil rig somewhere]

While Abas didn't know of the impact he was having on Jettis, apparently one existed. It must have been similar to the Terran phenomenon of the Uncanny Valley - when something looks similar to, but just slightly different than what it should be. Particularly with the human form, when something looked almost human, but just those few things were off that made a person or entity stand out. Was it a defense mechanism held on to by evolution? Was it a form of detection of threats, or was it simply just the fear of the unknown? Whatever it was, it had made an impression on Jettis it seemed. While Abas didn't notice the frown forming, he could tell something was slightly off.

Aenar were often strange - while no longer the small sub-species of Andorian folklore and myth they had been prior to the 2100s, they were still an uncommon sight in the Federation. Abas was used to a certain amount of trepidation or curiosity. Aenar had been serving in Starfleet for over the better part of at least 150 years - but their numbers remained few and far between. While this was a long time for many, it was entirely possible there were Vulcans alive who remembered the discovery of the Aenar, when relations with the Vulcan and Andorian people in the late pre-federation era were just beginning to normalize. The presence that Jettis was likely feeling was just simply how he was - without his eyesight, using his biological and telepathic senses to "see" and thrive in his environment. He didn't know it would cause discomfort, nor did he realize this officer would even notice.

When asked for his opinion, he shared what he'd thought earlier - the thought of analyzing more the impact of why this disease was targeting hemocyanin-based individuals, and testing a healthy versus an unhealthy individual's cells. He passed along additionally his original notion of how this seemed to be similar to a lack of oxygen making it to the brain, and other similarities like that of being drunk or Carbon Monoxide poisoning. At least, it was a place to start. The idea of testing to see if any particular background or subculture was being targeted more than others.

[Later...]

After a quick musing session with Lieutenant Jyur, he found himself given alternate tasking. He'd been assigned back to to Lieutenant Mrekrerhas' team. That didn't mean there hadn't been a productive conversation, however. Perhaps some of the information he'd exchanged with the Lieutenant would be useful, or vice versa. "Aye, Commander" was all he said, falling in behind Mrekrerhas and awaiting further orders.

[Enclave Arden]

As Abas had finished assisting the Doctor in the treatment of the wounded, he received his orders. He'd gone from assisting one Lieutenant to another - it must have been a fire sale on Lieutenants at the Starfleet Exchange. Regardless, he had his orders. He looked in the direction of the Lieutenant who he couldn't quite remember the details of. He fell in silently behind, snapping his medical case shut before slinging it over his shoulder... only to reopen it and move to assist the blue-clad Lieutenant who looked like they were about to see what inverting gravity might do to their stomach.

Listening to the description of the creature in the cage, it seemed that this planet had decided to go to war with copper-blooded people. It didn't comport with any information or disease he'd ever heard of, but that didn't mean it couldn't be known to someone, somewhere. But, proper protocol and discipline must be adhered to. He was assigned to Lieutenant Jyur, and Lieutenant Jyur was assigned to Commander Said. He'd simply wait for his orders, and carry them out to the best of his ability.

That didn't mean he was idle, however. As the disease was being described, and the link between hemocyanin types, he tried to recall any similar disease or reaction. It sounded almost more like an allergic reaction to an intoxicant than any particular disease. Carbon Monoxide poisoning in iron-blooded Hemoglobin cells could cause some similar reactions, with loss of focus, blindness, dizziness, and other maladies, but that might require further focus. What were the intoxicant levels? Had anyone run a spectrometer over the hemocyanin from an infected and healthy individual to see the difference? All these and more questions raced through Abas's mind as he stood and waited for orders. "At your service, Lieutenant," he said, prepared for the next move.

[Commander Nira Said | Bridge | Deck One | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A]

She rose and then pondered, then called: "Said to Doctor Fellows and Mister Th'vrrol, report to Transporter Room One with your medical kits."

[Commander Nira Said | Enclave Arden | Andgarr City | Andgarr Prime]

A moment later, Nira and the pair of medical officers alongside her appeared at the transporter pad. Nira let out a gasp of astonishment; she couldn't help herself. As amazing as it was to see a planet and a city in trees, it was more so with a city within a city, in a forest within an equally huge tree. She shook out of her astonishment and approached Doctor John Silas, the matron of the Arden Infirmary.

"Welcome to Arden, Commander," he said. "I'm not surprised by your reaction, but you are looking at a unique kind of Garr tree on Andgarr."

"Time enough to see the sights later," said Nira. "I've brought my ship's Chief Medical Officer to check over my Captain's condition, along with one of our officers."

"Of course," Doctor Silas said. "Follow on. And apologies if the Enclave head isn't here to meet you...well, you'll see, and thank God your group didn't get what's transpiring here."

"And what is?" asked Nira.

"As I said, you'll see..."

As they proceeded, Nira could see half the rooms, in passing, were assembled as improvised sick wards. People were coming and going, most having patches on their skin like they were being treated for something. A good deal of them had Federation medical personnel making treatments to badly sickened peoples...and when Nira got a good look at them, she could see they were all Vulcans.

"I assume your administrator's Vulcan?" asked Nira.

"Correct," Doctor Silas said.

"If some epidemic's powerful enough to bring down a Vulcan, I'd hate to meet it," said Nira.

"Oh, no, what's been going on is something puzzling," Silas explained. "With most races, it just causes skin irritations or minor to moderate allergic reactions. Sometimes, with furry beings like the Caitians and the Andgarr, it sticks to their fur."

Case in point, a Caitian was seen walking by with a stain on his fur, and he was looking disgruntled.

"Pollen?" asked Nira.

"We're not sure," Silas said. "It's flaky, dusty, and pollenlike. It's some sort of insect-based aerosol... for some reason, it has adverse affects causing extreme chemical reactions in copper-based hemocyanin, primarily in beings with green blood...specifically, in Vulcans."

"Well, we'll have to make sure any Vulcan crew members are careful in their shore leave," Nira said.

"Well, at least we're making medical treatments and vaccines...the thing was, these have been happening for some time now. It's gradually escalated in the past week; it started with barely half a dozen, but we've no sooner treated them than we had more cases, in Vulcans, and with some Romulans who also have copper-based hemocyanin, one close physiological thing they have in relation to Vulcans..."

Nira pursed her lips. Something seemed to be going on. And Andgarr was a planet somewhat under Romulan jurisdiction...she was so preoccupied, she didn't realize until too late that Silas had brought them to the ward where Ian, Jettis and Zhuk were kept and she almost bumped into one of them.

"Oh. I'm so sorry!" she said. "I just heard from Jindak. Somebody kidnapped Commander Mackenzie?"

[Airlock]

Even when docked and a whole planet available, a starship's community was a tight-knit bunch. News - or rather, Rumors - flowed quickly, almost always faster than the official word. The lower-enlisted superhighway of gossip, rumors, embellishments, and favors was almost unmatched in its ability to spread news, bested only by the latest subspace relays. Thus, even before word had reached the airlock, most of the team knew something was wrong. There was something in the air, an increase in tensions, some furtive looks, and a few security officers resting their hands just a tad closer to their phasers than one would expect. The flow of traffic became more constricted. Abas could sense something was wrong, but what it could be he just didn't know. He didn't have to wait long to find out.

As the voice of the Commander filtered through to his ears, his antennae curled inward, a frown appearing on his face momentarily. Understood, Commander, he responded, promptly turning from his post and heaving into motion, moving with purpose and cutting through the milling crowd, a few bellows of "MAKE A HOLE" causing the seas to part in front of him, as he moved with purpose toward the turbolift.

[Andgarr City - Enclave Arden]

He'd been brought quickly up to speed by the away team before they materialized in the Federation enclave. The energy and air here were different - Abas felt the cool breeze of non-reprocessed air flit around him, the different feel of the floor beneath him, and the lack of nice, comfortable bulkheads surrounding him. It was different, like so many places. But that was not his mission now.

Beyond the new location he found himself in, a very different energy could be felt. Like a wave washing over him, he understood almost immediately how many people were present in this improvised field hospital. Ill Vulcans, no matter where one turned, with a disease that Abas didn't recognize. He listened to the man speaking, who he learned quickly was the head of the facility. It seemed he was out of his depth, at least somewhat. Even the best facilities had limited supplies, particularly for new or unique diseases. An interesting quandary, and one he'd want to take a look at, but not now. They'd arrived at the assaulted away team.

Without waiting for orders, Abas moved into action. That was their training - find the problem, and fix it. In this case, he walked over to one of the officers - the Catian he'd worked with earlier - and cracked open his medical kit. "Lieutenant," he said, scanning the officer. "What happened? How are you feeling, sir?"

[Deck 11 - Forward - Main Airlock]

Abas had made his way off the bridge, swinging briefly by the medical ward before arriving at his new duty station, essentially acting as Federation Customs Control. This airlock was the main causeway, allowing the crew to embark and disembark from the ship. Everything would be scanned coming onboard and offboard, from biologics to foodstuffs to trinkets and bobs. A contingent of security, sciences, and medical staff was on hand as the flow of people from both directions continued.

He hadn't been there too long when his antennae perked up. One of the crewmembers was returning back aboard with... something smelly. He wasn't the only person to have noticed - two of the security officers had already intercepted the crewman and found concealed (poorly) under his uniform a large package of... cheeses? Abas drew closer to take a look, as did many of the other staff at the checkpoint. A few of the more fortunate crewmembers took the momentary lapse in security to sneak back aboard with their own contraband. It was a known operation - a few crewmembers would act as bait and some others would sneak past with the really good stuff. Not that any of those stationed at the checkpoint would ever admit to knowing such things. So the unspoken agreement went, as long as nothing too dangerous was brought past, the odd bit of contraband would be ignored, so long as those bringing it aboard were good enough at hiding it.

The now cheeseless crewmember, dutifully taking his verbal lashings, sauntered off to join the rest of his comrades as the checkpoint returned to normal. A few medical screenings here, the odd new vaccination there, and it should be a nice day of light duty until his shift ended.

That is, unless the crew already on the surface got into trouble.

[Commander Nira Said | Bridge | Deck One | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A]

Nira looked at Neva when she mentioned the Dragon's Blood trees of Yemen. "Really? You've been to Yemen? And...good Allah, I haven't seen those trees since I was little...! Oh, it's perfectly okay, Neva," added Nira when she saw Neva's reaction. "I have a feeling you're not the only one who's excited to tell people back home about this planet."

"Good job, Mister Shepherd," said Nira. She noticed Abas scowling, the only one to not be amazed. "It's okay, Mister Th'vyrrol," she said. "We're perfectly safe up here." She couldn't tell whether he was concerned or just annoyed; she often had trouble placing a negative emotion.A moment later, Nira got a reply back from the Captain. She pulled up a holographic display from the chair, showing the conditions of where the crew can and cannot go for shore leave. So permission was granted...under certain conditions. Time to let the word out.

"Commander, open shipwide comms," she said to Catalan. Once the comms were open, Nira made her announcement.

"Attention all hands," she announced. "After our initial journey to Andgarr Prime, and now that we are docked, shore leave is hereby granted. Anybody who wants to engage in starship business not on shore leave but for purposes of studying the flora, fauna and culture of Andgarr Prime is more than welcome to.

"Bear in mind, though, everybody," she added, "that there are certain places that aren't permitted access, most especially the forest floor; exploration below requires permission from the higher authorities due to the danger of the floor, although the water bodies are permissible for recreation and scientific study. Also, there are plenty of Romulan embassies and temples on the planet, so be careful if you get to one and want to mingle with Romulans. Note particularly the embassies of the Romulan Free State and the Reman Embassies, as they'll be the most friendly. On that note, we have been bidden welcome to Andgarr Prime. Said out."

[Bridge]

Abas had almost completed his route around the bridge when he heard the voice of the Commander speaking to him. His frown deepened for a moment, realizing he'd let his expression show just how much of what he was thinking. He attempted to bring his face back to neutral, constraining his concerns to his mind. Maybe it was the antennae which had given him away - controlling his outward expressions had never been a strong suit of him. Perhaps the amazement he was feeling from the rest of the crew came from the purported spectacular visuals of plasma and super-hot gasses whipping around the hull as the ship lowered herself into the gravity well, friction between the hull and air.

While Abas couldn't see the sights, he noted with uncomfortable detail the other signs of the endeavor. While the landing zone was still far above sea level, the ship still had to sail through the exosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and even at least part of the stratosphere. In all likelihood, these trees were still well within the troposphere, perhaps only a few thousand meters above sea level. The compression on the hull and resulting vibrations and harmonics, as the structural integrity fields held together the ship were unmistakable through his feet. Nonetheless, the ship was indeed safe and stable at station-keeping. The rest was up to the Engineers.

"Apologies, Commander," he spoke aloud, nodding to the XO and turning toward her. If he remembered correctly, she was a Betazoid. Stepping back from his final inspection, he flipped his tricorder closed. The scans were complete, and his duties on the bridge had completed. Since the crew was going on shore leave, he'd likely see if he could find the rest of his shift by the main airlock, screening crew and cargo boarding or departing the ship to ensure that no new contaminants were brought from the planet - or accidentally introduced into the planet's ecosystem. A fine bit of diplomacy straight out of the old earth playbook that would be - seeking out strange new worlds, and bringing along a host of maladies and ills. Thankfully, medical procedures had mostly stopped that from occurring. The glories of a modern age.

He listened to the Commander's speech, reminding the crew of the rules and regulations around visits to the planet. Visiting a planet was always exciting. Perhaps he'd need to tag along after his shift and explore a bit. Until then, however, he began to walk toward the turbolift, intent on returning to Sickbay unless he was directed elsewhere.