Deception: The lesser part of Valour – Bloodlines - part 3 - It's All In A Name
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Commander Chelsea Dunham
Post Details
OLD
Rh’vaurek exhaled slowly, trying to relax. He lowered his hands eyeing the gleaming blade of the scalpel she held between her fingers. “Lung, you say … ok, just don’t slip,” he said.
New
She cut his shirt away with a small scalpel to give her access to his olive skin and drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the rainbow colours of the deep bruising, tutting with her tongue. Using her hands to guide his shoulders, she backed him smoothly against the desk so his bottom slid on without jolting and then lifted his legs, carefully, one by one until he was sitting with them outstretched, supported in front of him. Then she helped him lie back, taking the weight from behind his shoulders so he could move without sudden slips or mishap. Finally she slid a cushion snatched from his chair under his neck and head.
”A man could get used to this, Doctor,” he joked through gritted teeth though the experience gave him no pleasure.
Once she had him lying as flat as possible she gently rolled him slightly towards his good side, muttering an automatic apology as she became aware of the pain this movement caused him, despite the analgesic. She cursed inwardly that the little first aid kid didn't contain anything as sophisticated as a nerveblock but knowing that equipment of that nature wouldn't be provided for the use of lay-medics.
Next Chelsea set about applying ultrasound at high frequency to break down the shard of stray bone into dust that could then be vapourised without harm to the bronchioles beneath. This was extracted and with it safely disposed of, the life-threatening danger to Raedheol's lung was dispelled.
Chelsea breathed more easily but as Raedeol's current compliance was convenient to her further ministrations, she allowed herself to be a little remiss in letting him know this piece of information for a while longer until she had finished regenerating the broken and fractured areas in his other ribs.
"You hit a very hard object with some force, by my reckoning" she broke the silence of her concentration at last. "And you'll be very unhappy to hear the bad news, I'm afraid" she told him, straightening her back and returning to the lighter work of regenerating the dermal layers of his side as she spoke.
Rh’vaurek’s brow wrinkled as he looked into her eyes, “that’s not news to me, doctor, and it hit me … that’s what tends to happen when someone repeatedly kicks into a fallen man.” He pushed himself up on his elbow, tentatively, then with more normal strength once he realised the pain was diminished. “That wasn’t what you meant, was it?” he asked.
Chelsea couldn't help the corners of her mouth lifting in a tiny smile as she delivered the crushing news. "I'm afraid you owe me your life!"
Rh’vaurek fell back against his desk, his head cushioned by the pillow the doctor had placed there earlier. “Doctor, you just operated without proper anaethestic – in some societies that is considered torture … what do you want to extract from me with the revelation that you could have let me die? I’m half naked and lying supine before you and I don’t have half the strength I was born with. What do you want?”
"Torture?" she huffed, wondering why it should surprise her that he wasn't in the least bit appreciative of her efforts.
"Mr Rh'vaurek" Affronted, she had subconsciously reverted to a formal method of address. "You have not been made to lay supine because I had any intention to subdue you - I can assure you I have better methods to achieve that, had I so wished! You were put in that position to keep the sharp edges of your broken rib from piercing your lung and if you consider one small slit in your shirt renders you *half naked* then you and I must have very different cultural understandings of the term"
"I have simply carried out emergency field-medical intervention under local analgesia, in order to avert a serious threat to your life. As for any alleged wish to *extract something* from you, I did not do any of this with the intention to demand payment or service in return. I'm a doctor not a Romulan!" she shot back, returning his direct gaze defiantly, suddenly realising for the first time that his dark eyes weren't actually black.
In frustration she turned away and walked towards the window with her back towards him, struggling to regain her equilibrium, at least on the outside. His eyes disturbed her greatly as always - there was something in them that she was afraid to get too close to - afraid to identify, even to herself.
With a grimace Rh’vaurek linked his fingers behind his head and gazed up at the doctor, “And I’m a Romulan, Chelsea not a doctor,” he said. “I’m starting to think that Federation doctors take themselves far too seriously, at least the two I’ve had anything to do with do. Why is that? You know I think that you don’t like me because I’ve shown no inclination to acknowledge your self appointed god-like status, something that our own medics don’t accord themselves with.”
"God like?" Chelsea spun back to face him, all the blood drained from her face. "I can think of nothing I would be less inclined to liken myself to! I can assure you I am only too painfully aware of my own shortcomings and limitations and I suspect, Mr Rh'vaurek, that you are just as aware of them too, if the truth were told."
“Speak freely, Chelsea. This room is one of the two places on the station I know of where nothing we say will be monitored or overheard, by either side. Rh’vaurek is my given name, by the way,” he said as he eased himself into a sitting position on the edge of his desk. “So how can I make it easier for you to despise me?”
Adams froze. She couldn't think how she could have made that mistake. Isha had told her that the Romulans were reticent about letting anyone know, let alone use, their given names. It was too personal and an invasion of their privacy and reserve. She was horrified at the offence she had inadvertently committed.
OFF
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Commander Chelsea Dunham
Post Details
| Title | Bloodlines - part 3 - It's All In A Name | |
| Mission | Deception: The lesser part of Valour | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Commander Chelsea Dunham | |
| Posted | Sat Jan 17, 2009 @ 4:35pm | |
| Location | Romulan Consulate | |
| Timeline | SD4 (backpost) After 'Fix You' & 'Keeping Score' |
Rh’vaurek exhaled slowly, trying to relax. He lowered his hands eyeing the gleaming blade of the scalpel she held between her fingers. “Lung, you say … ok, just don’t slip,” he said.
New
She cut his shirt away with a small scalpel to give her access to his olive skin and drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the rainbow colours of the deep bruising, tutting with her tongue. Using her hands to guide his shoulders, she backed him smoothly against the desk so his bottom slid on without jolting and then lifted his legs, carefully, one by one until he was sitting with them outstretched, supported in front of him. Then she helped him lie back, taking the weight from behind his shoulders so he could move without sudden slips or mishap. Finally she slid a cushion snatched from his chair under his neck and head.
”A man could get used to this, Doctor,” he joked through gritted teeth though the experience gave him no pleasure.
Once she had him lying as flat as possible she gently rolled him slightly towards his good side, muttering an automatic apology as she became aware of the pain this movement caused him, despite the analgesic. She cursed inwardly that the little first aid kid didn't contain anything as sophisticated as a nerveblock but knowing that equipment of that nature wouldn't be provided for the use of lay-medics.
Next Chelsea set about applying ultrasound at high frequency to break down the shard of stray bone into dust that could then be vapourised without harm to the bronchioles beneath. This was extracted and with it safely disposed of, the life-threatening danger to Raedheol's lung was dispelled.
Chelsea breathed more easily but as Raedeol's current compliance was convenient to her further ministrations, she allowed herself to be a little remiss in letting him know this piece of information for a while longer until she had finished regenerating the broken and fractured areas in his other ribs.
"You hit a very hard object with some force, by my reckoning" she broke the silence of her concentration at last. "And you'll be very unhappy to hear the bad news, I'm afraid" she told him, straightening her back and returning to the lighter work of regenerating the dermal layers of his side as she spoke.
Rh’vaurek’s brow wrinkled as he looked into her eyes, “that’s not news to me, doctor, and it hit me … that’s what tends to happen when someone repeatedly kicks into a fallen man.” He pushed himself up on his elbow, tentatively, then with more normal strength once he realised the pain was diminished. “That wasn’t what you meant, was it?” he asked.
Chelsea couldn't help the corners of her mouth lifting in a tiny smile as she delivered the crushing news. "I'm afraid you owe me your life!"
Rh’vaurek fell back against his desk, his head cushioned by the pillow the doctor had placed there earlier. “Doctor, you just operated without proper anaethestic – in some societies that is considered torture … what do you want to extract from me with the revelation that you could have let me die? I’m half naked and lying supine before you and I don’t have half the strength I was born with. What do you want?”
"Torture?" she huffed, wondering why it should surprise her that he wasn't in the least bit appreciative of her efforts.
"Mr Rh'vaurek" Affronted, she had subconsciously reverted to a formal method of address. "You have not been made to lay supine because I had any intention to subdue you - I can assure you I have better methods to achieve that, had I so wished! You were put in that position to keep the sharp edges of your broken rib from piercing your lung and if you consider one small slit in your shirt renders you *half naked* then you and I must have very different cultural understandings of the term"
"I have simply carried out emergency field-medical intervention under local analgesia, in order to avert a serious threat to your life. As for any alleged wish to *extract something* from you, I did not do any of this with the intention to demand payment or service in return. I'm a doctor not a Romulan!" she shot back, returning his direct gaze defiantly, suddenly realising for the first time that his dark eyes weren't actually black.
In frustration she turned away and walked towards the window with her back towards him, struggling to regain her equilibrium, at least on the outside. His eyes disturbed her greatly as always - there was something in them that she was afraid to get too close to - afraid to identify, even to herself.
With a grimace Rh’vaurek linked his fingers behind his head and gazed up at the doctor, “And I’m a Romulan, Chelsea not a doctor,” he said. “I’m starting to think that Federation doctors take themselves far too seriously, at least the two I’ve had anything to do with do. Why is that? You know I think that you don’t like me because I’ve shown no inclination to acknowledge your self appointed god-like status, something that our own medics don’t accord themselves with.”
"God like?" Chelsea spun back to face him, all the blood drained from her face. "I can think of nothing I would be less inclined to liken myself to! I can assure you I am only too painfully aware of my own shortcomings and limitations and I suspect, Mr Rh'vaurek, that you are just as aware of them too, if the truth were told."
“Speak freely, Chelsea. This room is one of the two places on the station I know of where nothing we say will be monitored or overheard, by either side. Rh’vaurek is my given name, by the way,” he said as he eased himself into a sitting position on the edge of his desk. “So how can I make it easier for you to despise me?”
Adams froze. She couldn't think how she could have made that mistake. Isha had told her that the Romulans were reticent about letting anyone know, let alone use, their given names. It was too personal and an invasion of their privacy and reserve. She was horrified at the offence she had inadvertently committed.
OFF