923: The Last of Their Kind

by Lance Hartcort and Salvek
90720.2300
After The Other Side of the Door

-=USS Serendipity=-


Salvek felt his stomach rumble again. Part of the training that went along with being Vulcan included the ability to control some functions of the body, to a certain extent. Respiration could be slowed to deal with oxygen deficient atmospheres, and the effects of hunger could be delayed by slowing the body’s metabolism, allowing one to work longer hours without breaking for meals.

What that meant was by the time a Vulcan's stomach was growling, he was not only hungry, he was really hungry. He had talked to Kellyn, who was still busy on her own securing the Alchemy and filing reports, just long enough to make sure she was safely aboard. With that knowledge setting him at ease, he decided it was finally time to take a break from engineering work to take in a meal. He set down the PADD he was working with, and took two steps towards the door.

[Hartcort to Commander Salvek.]

Salvek straightened up, suppressed the emotion of frustration that would normally have compelled one to sigh, and tapped his badge to open a channel. "Go ahead Doctor."

[Can you come down here? We need to talk.]

"Can this wait?"

[No.] Hartcort answered, without any further explanation.

"Elaborate."

[Remember our little wolf in sheep's clothing? The Domox spy dressed up like a Vulcan? The one you ordered me to put in stasis, before you vanished and forgot all about it and left it here for me to deal with? I'm getting some very strange readings I want to discuss with you.]

Salvek did indeed recall the Domox spy, and with all he had been doing between the battle and repairs, Hartcort was somewhat right; he had not exactly forgotten the Domox, but had considered the alien in stasis to be a non-issue.

"I am on my way," Salvek said, as he once again set aside the urge to eat, for now.

-=Sickbay=-


Hartcort had been following up on the Admiral’s condition when Commander Salvek walked into sickbay. Her physical condition continued to improve by the hour, but her emotional state and attitude on the other hand, was questionable at best.

Lance put down the PADD he was carrying and waved Salvek over.

He led the ships first officer to the secure area where the Domox/Vulcan infiltrator was being kept in stasis.

“What seems to be the issue doctor?” Salvek asked and they approached the bedside.

“Well, it seem like our friend here is slowly going brain dead.” Lance deadpanned.

Salvek glanced at the burned Vulcan in the stasis field. “His condition does not seem to have deteriorated.”

Lance shrugged. “No, In fact his burns are actually healing nicely. The regeneration process is progressing well. His brain wave pattern however, is not.” He walked over to one of the monitors on the wall and displayed a chart with two opposing diagrams of wave patterns. One showed a healthy pattern resembling a mountain and valleys with sharp peaks and drops, while the other shows little to no movement.

“As you can see the majority of voluntary brain function has stopped. So has subconscious REM activity.” Lance pointed to the lower graph. “He is not even dreaming anymore. Involuntary functions, heartbeat, breathing, et cetera, are still working for now. But his brain functions continue to degrade.”

Salvek crossed his arms as he looked at the chart. “What caused the sudden change?”

Lance rubbed his chin. “I am not exactly sure but what I do know is that the degradation started as soon as the…” He looked for a cautious set of words to describe the fate of the Domox. “…portal closed. The best reason I have is that he was mentally connected to the other side somehow. Now that the connection is severed he is shutting down. Maybe it is like the old fashion cyanide capsule that spies would take to kill themselves when captured.”

“Or perhaps they are connected in a way that makes them all mentally dependant upon each other, like a collective.” Salvek mused, speaking to the theory with far more personal experienced than he wished to have.

“Either way,” Hartcort shrugged. The point was moot. The Domox was dying and there appeared to be no way to stop it. “I could, maybe, be able to find out how to stop it, if I spoke to him.”

Salvek thought for a few moments, and shook his head. “No, this species has already proven they can use their mental powers as a form of attack. I have seen it myself, and Wren Elton was nearly killed. I will not put the ship in danger. If the Domox survives until we make it to Earth, Starfleet can determine if they are comfortable waking him.”

“I don’t think that is going to happen. We may be dealing with minutes, not hours or days,” Hartcort warned.

Salvek responded to the report with a question that clearly indicated that Hartcort’s warning was of no consequence to the First Officer. “How is the Admiral?” He turned and looked toward her bed, where she was resting still. Her head was turned so Salvek could not tell if she was asleep or simply staring off into space.

“She’s alive,” was all Hartcort said.

The panel monitoring the Domox in stasis began to beep and flash red. Salvek snapped his attention back away from the Admiral.

“What is happening?”

Lance looked over the readings. “His involuntary synaptic functions are shutting down. His heart rate and breathing are irregular.” Lance turned to Salvek. “Commander are you sure that you do not want me to take him out of stasis?”

Lance waited a moment before pressing the issue further. “He could be the very last of his species.” Lance added. “Are you willing to let them die out? Especially considering…” He lowered his voice. “…we are responsible for their fate.”

Lance made some adjustment to the stasis field and the alarms went silent but the red warning lights continued to flash. “Killing to preserve ourselves in combat is one thing Commander Salvek but allowing an injured prisoner to die is entirely another bowl of soup!”

Salvek stared at the readings, as if doing so may somehow will them to stabilize. There would have been no conflict for Salvek, had he not melded with the Domox himself, and felt the pure hatred inside it. He had little doubt that if the Domox knew it was dying, that it would likely try to take someone, anyone, with it. How could he risk Wren’s fate being imposed on anyone else?

Hartcort’s eyes moved between the dying prisoner and the ships seemingly dispassionate First Officer. He eyed up the Vulcan and found it had to believe that he himself had Vulcan blood in his veins.

“Do I need to involve the Captain?” Lance asked suddenly making a clear line in the sand as to his position on the matter.

“No, I have this under control. There is no need to involve the Captain. You may wake the Domox under one condition.”

Salvek pulled a phaser from his hip, and adjusted the setting up, making it clear what the condition was. If the Domox made any attempt to reach out to the crew with its telepathy, Salvek would take the Domox’s life. Judging by the readings it may already be too late to help, but Hartcort was determined to try.

Lance was well aware of the danger that the Domox posed. He quickly gathered up all of the necessary tools and then secured the small room by locking the door.

Looking at Salvek, who simply nodded that he was ready, Lance dropped the stasis field.

As soon as the field dropped the Domox/Vulcan’s eyes shot open and he inhaled a deep breath of air before grimacing in pain from the burns that covered his body. New alarms sounded from the various monitors as his vitals suddenly started to fluctuate.

Lance reached for a hypospray that would have helped to manage the pain but Salvek stopped him.

“Allowing him a respite from the pain may allow him to concentrate on other, nefarious actions.” He warned.

Lance paused and stared at Salvek prepared to argue the inhumanity of allowing the Domox to suffer, but the look on the Commander’s face told him that the decision was not open to discussion.

Putting the first hypo down he picked up another and injected the contents into the patient’s neck, then looked up at the monitors. Heart rate was erratic, blood pressure was dropping, brain activity continued to fluctuate.

Suddenly the Domox grabbed Lances arm. “What, what hap…happened?” He asked in a cracking voice. “S..s..so silent…”

Lance looked up at Salvek.

“The portal was destroyed,” Salvek said, walking the tightrope between truth, and ambiguity. He holstered his phaser, as it appeared the Domox was far too disoriented to pose much of a threat. “That is why you cannot hear them.”

“Need… revert.” The Domox said, putting a now very shaky hand up to its head.

“How do I do that? How do I help you?” Hartcort asked, leaning in closer.

“Don’t know. Told me, would be recovered, before it an issue.”

“He needs one of his Doctors,” Hartcort said while shaking his head.

“Can you help him at all?” Salvek asked.

“With time to study his original DNA and a healthy member of his species, yes. But I don’t have any of that at my disposal.”

Salvek held a steady gaze on the Doctor. Hartcort checked his readings, then his patient, and finally his First Officer. Salvek waited for Lance to make his next suggestion.

“I’ll try to keep him comfortable,” was all the Doctor could offer. As soon as he stopped speaking, the Domox began to shake, and pressed its Vulcan hands to each temple. Salvek grabbed for his phaser, as Hartcort grabbed for his hypo. The First Officer relaxed his grip and holstered his weapon once again upon realizing that the patient was not making an attempt to attack.

Hartcort tried to move the Domox’s hands away from his face, so he could reach the side of its neck to administer the dose, but his grip was strong, and the Domox had curled into a fetal position, making his neck impossible to reach.

Lance looked up at the monitor and watched helplessly as the vital signs of the Domox began to drop. He jabbed the hypo into the first bit of exposed flesh he saw in desperation. The Domox began to shudder uncontrollably then suddenly went slack.

All of the monitor’s lines went flat. Lance desperately tried to revive him, but with no success.

After five minutes of using every method at his disposal for resuscitation, Salvek was finally forced to place a gentle hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“He is dead, Doctor.”

Lance tossed the last hypo he was holding onto the tray and leaned forward onto the bed and sighed. “Damn it.”

He glanced back at Salvek with a look of pain, irritation, and helplessness in his eyes. “Let the log show that time of death was 1952 hours.” He turned and headed for his office. “Please excuse me Commander. I have a report to write.”

Salvek stepped aside to let the Doctor pass, then looked at the Domox. Whatever the motives, he was the last of his kind, and a great opportunity for knowledge was lost. If a peace could have been negotiated somehow, perhaps the Domox and Federation could have learned a great deal from each other.

Or perhaps they would have been impossible to reason with, and destroyed Salvek and everyone like him. Judging by their limited contact with this race, Salvek opted to believe the latter. At least that belief was enough to set his conscience at ease.

Salvek tugged the sheet gently up over the man’s head, and left to finally get the meal he had needed for hours.

******************
Doctor Lance Hartcort
Chief Medical Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

Commander Salvek
First Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012