The Death of Aeryn Tigan (Part 1)

Posted on 08 Jan 2020 @ 10:22pm by Commander Rhyan

3,369 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Empty Creche
Location: Starfleet Medical, San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: ED2: 0230

Scene I: Starfleet Medical, San Francisco, Earth

For the third time in as many hours Commander Rhyan felt the familiar tingle of the transporter system deposit him, and Lieutenant Tigan, at another location. Despite the relief of leaving the Nova behind, the Vulcan felt new trepidation for the task that now lay before him: he had to cure President Zal of the disease that threatened to end her life. He had a theory on how me might achieve this goal, but in the event of its failure he had conceived a controversial backup plan – one that Lieutenant Tigan appeared to be debating, at great pain.

“Lieutenant?” he asked, aware of the awkward silence that had fallen between them since he proposed his alternative idea for saving Zal. The Trill’s gaze was distant, looking beyond the towering building that was Starfleet Headquarters. Rhyan took the opportunity to take in the enormity of the thirty-or-so storey skyscraper in front of them. He knew they were outside Starfleet Medical Headquarters thanks to the multi-storey Starfleet delta, embossed with the Rod of Asclepius - a symbol synonymous with the healthcare profession on Earth, and now throughout the Federation – hanging across the front of the building.

Aeryn’s eyes remained unfocused as she replied to her commanding officer. “It is a lot to take in, commander,” she said, appearing to struggle with the gravity of the proposal. “What you are asking me to do…” Her sentence remained unfinished, the gravity of the situation preventing her from doing so.

“I am so sorry lieutenant, but we may have no other choice,” he said in an attempt to justify his logic.

To move them on, Rhyan wrapped his hand loosely around one of Aeryn’s biceps and gently pulled her towards the entrance to the building. The lieutenant offered no resistance and within a few seconds they were both sprinting towards Starfleet Medical Headquarters. A few moments later and they were passing through the revolving door at the base of the skyscraper together.

Unlike the deserted plaza outside, the reception hall was hiving with activity. Where Rhyan expected to see an excess of blue uniforms around him, he found the majority of the officer’s present were dressed in security-gold. Starfleet, it appeared, had significantly upped the security presence within Starfleet Medical since President Zal’s admission.

The unannounced arrival of the Redemption science officers caused a bit of stir among the security staff; several of them approached Rhyan and Aeryn with their phaser rifles uncharacteristically drawn. The Vulcan felt his hand drop to his right hip, where his own hand phaser was located, and prepared to pull it out at a moment’s notice. He pondered the unusual set of circumstances they were in, saddened that he felt the need to remain armed while within the confides of Starfleet Headquarters.

“What strange times we are living in,” he said quietly to himself as the security force approached them at speed.

“Halt, commander,” the lead security officer said, a Deltan male with a frosty personality. The lieutenant nudged his phaser rifle into Rhyan’s chest to show the Vulcan that he wasn’t afraid to use his weapon if he didn’t comply. “Please explain your presence here.”

“Lieutenant,” Rhyan began saying with an unintentionally condescending inflection to his voice. “I am here to speak with the President of the United Federation of Planets, and the team caring for her health while she is here. You,” he glanced at Aeryn as he spoke, “don’t know what it has taken for us to get to Earth.”

“Name and assignment!” the Deltan demanded. Out of the corner of his eye, Rhyan could see the other security guards tighten their grips around their rifles.

“Really strange times,” he said under his breath before answering the security officer’s question. “I am Commander Rhyan, executive officer of the USS Redemption, on special assignment to Elesa Zal, the Federation President. Now,” he gently nudged the point-blank firing end of the phaser rifle out of his way, “can you please escort me to see the President, immediately? Lieutenant.”

Another security officer, a human female with the rank of lieutenant commander, approached the officers after seeing the commotion. Like her Deltan subordinate, she held her rifle in a firing position and pointed straight at Rhyan. Unexpectedly, she spoke with a softer and much more sympathetic voice. “I am sorry for the interrogation, commander, but we are under strict orders not to allow anybody into this building without prior approval from Admiral Shora.”

Rhyan could feel his frustration building. One of the security guards appeared to sense the Vulcan’s frustration and did a double-take, unlikely to have ever seen an angered Vulcan before. “Every second you delay me from seeing Elesa Zal, is another second wasted in treating her condition,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I appreciate that,” the lieutenant commander said calmly, trying to keep control of the situation. “But you have to understand that I am only acting under orders.”

“So are we!” announced Aeryn as she walked away from the commander and made an attempt to reach the lift at the other end of the large foyer. In seconds she was met by a dozen-or-so security officers, rifles drawn, with fingers poised over their triggers. The science officer immediately stopped in her tracks and held her hands up in front of her.

“Control your lieutenant, commander,” the human female said, assertively. At no point did she lower her rifle in front of Rhyan. He took the suggestion and gave Aeryn a look that told her to calm down and be patient.

The lieutenant commander continued to address Ryan. “If what you say is true, Doctor Inverness should be able to corroborate your orders. She is with the President now.”

Rhyan rolled his eyes at the mention of Lucy’s name, earning him a disapproving look from the security commander. There was no love lost between Doctor Inverness and himself, at least not since their last assignment together on the Redemption. The last time she had seen him, which coincidentally was here in San Francisco, the doctor had slapped him across the face and told him never come near her again. Unfortunately he was going to have to break that rule today.

The lieutenant commander tapped her comm badge. “Commander Isaac to Doctor Inverness. Priority two communique.”

They waited, but not for long.

“Inverness here. This isn’t a good time, commander.” Lucy’s voice erupted from the commander’s comm badge, her tone conveying that she was busy with another task. Rhyan didn’t doubt that she was tending to the President’s needs as she spoke with Commander Isaac.

“I apologise for the interruption, doctor, but I have Commander Rhyan from the USS Redemption here in the foyer demanding to speak with the President.” She gave Rhyan a curt glance, telling him that she didn’t believe his story. Rhyan just smiled back at her.

“Nobody will be speaking with the President any time soon,” Inverness said over the comm channel with a grave note to her voice. Rhyan couldn’t help but think the worst - that they were too late - until Lucy followed up her initial statement. “But, against my better judgement, I would welcome you to send Commander Rhyan and Lieutenant – Tigan, was it? – yes, Lieutenant Tigan up to us at your earliest convenience.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” replied the lieutenant commander as she tapped her comm badge a second time to deactivate it. It was only at that point did she, and her subordinates in turn, lower their phaser rifles. The human then extended her arm to direct Rhyan towards the lift that Aeryn had attempted to reach.

“Thank you, commander,” Rhyan said curtly. When he and Isaac reached Aeryn’s position, the lieutenant joined them in the short walk to the lift. The Trill’s expression looked no less grave than it had when they first arrived on Earth.

“I can see that you are struggling with what I told you on the Nova,” he said only to the lieutenant.

“No,” she replied, “I am not struggling. Not exactly. It’s just,” Aeryn paused, a new-found sadness etched across her face. “I just never thought I would be asked to do this.”

“We are Starfleet officers, lieutenant,” he said in return. “Sacrifice is always a possibility when we wear the uniform.”

Before Aeryn could respond they reached the lift and the doors parted immediately. Commander Isaac escorted them into the lift and ordered it to take them to the seventeenth floor, thankfully leaving the rest of her security officers behind in the foyer. As the lift began to move, the science officers continued their conversation.

“That is easy for you to say,” Aeryn said first, with a distinct tone to her voice. Recognising how disrespectful she must have sounded to Rhyan in front of Commander Isaac, Aeryn followed up her statement with “commander” to save face. Rhyan could understand the lieutenant’s frustrations and fears – but if their plan to synthesise another anti-virus failed, there was only one other choice he could contemplate to save Zal.

“Don’t forget,” Rhyan said calmly, “that you were the one who injected herself with the protype anti-virus in the first place. Without my consent, might I add. You put yourself in this position.”

“And that suddenly makes this all right, does it?” Tigan replied sharply.

Rhyan shook his head. “No, it does not. But we have been gifted with another opportunity to save Zal, and we have to be willing to consider it if the need arises.”

“I know!” Aeryn shouted back, realising only afterwards, when Isaac gave her a surprised look, how obstinate she had been. Isaac’s surprise appeared to end the conversation, leaving the rest of the lift journey to take place in awkward silence. One more than one occasion Rhyan felt Isaac eyeing him up, no doubt trying to make sense of the situation he now found himself in.

When the lift finally arrived at the seventeenth floor, Isaac exited the cabin first, followed secondly by Aeryn and finally by Rhyan. Looking around himself, Rhyan recognised that they had arrived on the intensive care floor of the Starfleet Medical building. Isaac communicated to the security officers patrolling this level that the science officers were safe to pass, making the rest of their walk to the President’s beside quick and without obstruction.

“Rhyan.” A displeased voice announced their arrival in the Intensive Care Unit. The commander recognised instantly that is belonged to Doctor Lucy Inverness.

“Lucy,” Rhyan replied with almost as much enthusiasm as the doctor. Despite the frosty reception, Rhyan didn’t feel the need to re-tread over past conversations or re-open old wounds; he and Lucy were just going to have to accept they needed to work together towards a common goal, irrespective of their past. For now, he was sure, they could both be professional with one another.

“What is the President’s status?” Aeryn asked, prompting Rhyan to look over at Elesa Zal who was lying unconscious on a biobed in the centre of the room. He was disheartened to see her ashen skin, faded spots and closed, sunken eyes – this was not the strong, poised woman that he had come to know over the past number of years. A neural stimulator was attached to her forehead, the light blinking furiously as the device was attempting to elicit some sort of response from the sleeping Trill.

Lucy’s eyes met with Rhyan’s for a fleeting moment, but that moment was long enough for her to non-verbally tell him that the President’s condition was very grave indeed.

“The host,” a female Trill ensign said, “is almost dead. The symbiont isn’t far behind her.” The ensign approached Zal and ran her medical tricorder over her lower abdomen, where Rhyan knew the symbiont was located. He noticed Aeryn looking unsettled and then shot Lucy a glance to ask her for an introduction to the unfamiliar woman.

“Commander Rhyan, might I introduce you to Ensign Darrin Ulla,” Inverness said in response to Rhyan’s glare. “Darrin is one of our best medics, and our expert on Trill physiology. Her second host…”

“Lucy, I doubt the commander has the time to hear my full biography,” interrupted the Trill woman as she simultaneously withdrew the medical tricorder from Zal’s abdomen and turned to face them. Ensign Ulla was a young woman, but something about the way she spoke to her superior officer gave Rhyan the impression she had experienced multiple lives over many centuries. He recognised more than a little of the President’s confidence in the way she held herself.

Ulla continued. “I’m afraid to report that our latest efforts to stabilise the President have failed. The symbiont is dying, and the host…”

“Elesa!” Aeryn announced, visibly upset at how the ensign was referring to Elesa.

Rhyan always found it interesting how the Trill, in particular joined Trill, referred to hosts in such an impersonal manner. It was as though the humanoid Trill were nothing more than a vessel for one of their precious symbionts. He could understand Aeryn’s objections to the use of the term, given that she was an un-joined Trill who had accomplished almost as much as her joined counterparts. Elesa’s own brother, Aran Zahne, was also offended by the term, and had many objections to the joining process itself; Elesa’s own joining to the Zal symbiont alienating her from Aran for many years.

‘Zahne!’ Rhyan thought to himself, annoyed with himself that he had not thought of the President’s brother before now. Despite Elea requesting Rhyan not to do so, the Vulcan felt he owed his friend the opportunity to see his sister before the likely event of her death. He was, after all, presently assigned to the Ee Research Institute on Earth, so could be at Elesa’s bedside within minutes.

He made a mental note to contact Aran at the first possible opportunity.

“I do apologise, lieutenant,” Ulla said, interrupting Rhyan’s thoughts. “Elesa is not improving either. I’m afraid, even with all my past host’s experiences at the Symbiosis Commission, I can’t think of anything else that we can do to save either of them. Not unless you have a miracle cure with you, commander?” She cocked her head in Rhyan’s direction.

The Vulcan glanced over at Lieutenant Tigan for a moment before responding to Ulla’s question. “Everything we had on the anti-virus, the research and the synthesised compound, was destroyed when the Confederacy attached the Aoraki. And since we are unable to contact the Redemption to get our initial research returned to us, I fear that we are completely empty-handed.”

“A lot of use you two are then,” Inverness commented sarcastically, angrily throwing the padd that was in her hand onto a workstation.

“Not now, doctor,” Rhyan responded sharply, aggrieved by Lucy’s comment.

Aeryn stepped between Rhyan and Inverness to break up their spat before it had a chance to escalate. She faced the Vulcan and tapped an index finger against her neck. “That isn’t entirely correct, commander.”

“You are right,” he said back to the lieutenant, noticing for the first time the grim look on her face. He directed his next statement to Lucy. “The anti-virus is indeed in this room with us.”

“Well, which one is it Rhyan? Either you have it, or you don’t have it!” Patience was not one of Lucy’s virtues.

Aeryn faced Doctor Inverness next, her eyes pre-empting the explanation that was to come. “To test the prototype antivirus, I injected myself with a test-dose to ensure compatibility with Trill physiology. As it turns out, it is compatible.”

Unprompted, Ensign Ulla opened up her medical tricorder again and started to scan the lieutenant. Her eyes lit up as she studied the results scrawling across the screen. “What sort of anti-virus did you develop? I have never quite seen anything like this in my life before. Your anti-virus is almost as bioactive as the original virus.”

“It is a long story, which I wish we had time to tell you now,” Rhyan said, attempting to deflect the ensign’s question. “The more important question right now is: can you extract enough of the anti-virus from Lieutenant Tigan’s bloodstream to help the President?”

“I…” the ensign started to say, waving the tricorder over Aeryn another couple of times before answering the Vulcan’s question. “I’m afraid I don’t think that will be possible. Your anti-virus is behaving almost like a true virus: it appears to be accumulating within the lieutenant’s cells, waiting to be activated if and when her body is exposed to the antigenic virus.”

“What does that mean?” asked the, until now, silent Lieutenant Johnston. The towering male security officer was standing separate from the group of scientists and medics, having left them alone to their discussions until this point.

“It means,” Inverness said, moving from the larger group to talk to Johnston, “that there is no way of extracting the anti-virus from Lieutenant Tigan without destroying every cell in her body and killing her. And ignoring the ethics of obtaining the anti-virus, I’m not even sure we would obtain enough of it to do President Zal any good.”

“Dammit, Lucy! There has to be something we can do?” Rhyan’s voice was loud. He hadn’t fought this hard to make it to Earth for their mission to fail.

An equally frustrated Inverness stepped back towards Rhyan and squared up to her former commander. “If you want to kill the lieutenant, then by all means go ahead. I will not be involved in saving one life by taking another.”

“That is not what I meant,” he said back angrily.

Lucy turned to face Aeryn. “A word of warning, lieutenant: if you spend enough time with this man, he will get you killed.”

“That’s enough!” Ensign Ulla pushed Inverness away from the Redemption science officers and pulled her back towards Zal’s bed. “Whatever has happened between you in the past needs to remain in the past! Arguing between one another is not going to help save Elesa Zal’s life!”

Form that point onwards Ulla chose to ignore Rhyan, Lucy and Aeryn and redirected her attention to the medical scanner on Zal’s biobed, tapping the interface with vigour. The expression on her face twisted with annoyance and frustration as her eyes darted across the screen. Looking over the ensign’s shoulder, Rhyan could see that the President’s observations were rapidly deteriorating, meaning that they were running out of time.

Without permission Aeryn stepped towards the President’s bedside and took one of her frail-looking hands in hers. The lieutenant flinched slightly as her skin touched Zal’s; to Rhyan’s untrained eye they looked mottled, devoid of circulation and cold. Rhyan found the act unusual, but not out of character for the young woman who was obviously caring by her nature.

Aeryn appeared to study Zal intently, her facial expression broadcasting an internal struggle the lieutenant was having with herself. Her free hand was used to neaten Zal’s unkempt hair. After a few moments of peace, Aeryn returned her attention to the other occupants of the room. As she spoke, she continued to grip the President’s hand gently. “What if I volunteered?”

The Starfleet medical personnel appeared confused. Lucy was the first to ask for clarification. “Volunteer? For what, exactly?

“To give my life to save Zal,” Aeryn said calmly, as though sacrificing her life for another was nothing to be concerned about. Rhyan noticed that the lieutenant’s expression was now completely neutral, if not accepting; it was the first time he had seen her at peace since first mentioning his ‘Plan Z’ to her. He then realised what she was trying to tell them.

Aeryn’s eyes locked with Rhyan’s. “I’m ready now, commander.”

OFF: Just moving the Earth-based story along. Part 2 to come shortly.

 

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