Star Struck 4
Upon arrival at Aldebaran Three, the away team were briefed on the customs of the culture there.
Will leaned over the table. "A visiting diplomat is respected only if proof of his or her skills is implicitly shown in the first meeting. As such, I plan to have Data and Worf come along as people whom I have negotiated peace with."
Everyone nodded. It was a good plan.
"And I'll need Beverly up here to have everything ready when we transport the medical people up."
Beverly nodded. The cases of Aldebaran Sun Fever were in the millions already in on the rather small main continent, and the Enterprise had come to offer assistance, despite the shaky relations.
"And I'll need a resident female to help with the culture influence. Deanna, are you feeling up to it?"
Deanna shook her head. "I'm sorry, Will, I have a few appointments that the Captain finds most important – Granger, Smithers, Joliet, and Kiern. I'll have to stay behind."
"So, 'Lise, I guess you're stuck with me." He grinned. She grinned back. Despite the fact that she was not usually taken on away teams, she always surreptitiously read up on the cultures and customs of the peoples the crew came in contact with. She would need some more reading, but overall, she felt prepared. "Great. Data, Worf, Geordi, wait for me at Transporter Room 4 in 40 minutes. 'Lise, finish any briefing you need, and assume anything you feel will help soften the culture shock. Let's get going."
Melisandre finished reading most of the papers on the Aldebaran culture, and went to the replicator.
"Computer." It beeped. "I need a large green and gold headscarf, about 150 centimeters by 50 centimeters. Thin silk."
The computer beeped again, and a large folded scarf appeared. Melisandre bound it around her head in an elaborate knot, aided by the readout on her PADD. Then she gave it a look in the mirror, and, satisfied, made her way to Transporter Room 4.
"What's that?" asked Will, eyebrows raised and finger pointing at the headscarf.
Melisandre hesitated. "I was trying to figure out what sort of character I should play to have the Aldebarans open up to us more. The only female figure they welcome in a diplomatic party is the diplomat's wife, and I figured if I played that role—"
"Say no more. If it works, I'll owe you one in Ten Forward." Will smiled. "Ready, everyone?"
Everyone nodded.
"Energise!"
O'Brien powered up the transporter, and they faded out.
They materialised in the centre of a lavish garden. Around them stood vaguely humanoid forms, with a reptilian skin and large yellow eyes in an elongated skull. Their three legs were set in a triangular shape, and their two arms ended in three taloned fingers each.
Will stepped forward. "Greetings to you."
The Aldebarans shuffled slightly. "And to you, humans. Do you come to aid us against the fever?"
Will bowed. "We do. May I introduce my companions, these are Commanders Worf, Data, LaForge, and Asimov."
"A female…" the Aldebarans said with open surprise. "Who is she? Is she yours?"
Melisandre flashed Will a look. He nodded imperceptibly. She took half a step forward. "I am his…" she paused for a moment, thinking, "betrothed."
"Betrothed…" one particularly adorned Aldebaran hissed, "what is this 'betrothed' you speak of? Females are not permitted to be part of diplomatic missions on Aldebaran 3…"
Data spoke up. "Betrothed – fiancee, wife-to-be."
There was a pause, during which the Aldebarans consulted within themselves in a gutteral, sibilant tongue. Then, they looked back up. "We understand. We shall allow this," another Aldebaran said. "Please follow, we shall provide for your comfort."
The Enterprise away team let out a breath they didn't notice they were holding. So far, so good.
The mission had gone with success. A few hundred medical people from the planet were beamed aboard to be taught the methods of battling the Sun Fever, and given medicines and information to be spread out amongst the many medical people remaining below. Only one thing was overlooked…
Beverly noticed something was wrong when she was called in urgently to Sick Bay at 0600, which was nearly 2 hours before the morning briefing. When she got in, she was dismayed to find 30 people with bright, sweaty faces gazing blankly at her. She gasped and scrabbled at the PADD she had dropped, unable to pick it up.
"DAMN."She hurried to her office, and found dozens of memos from the rest of the ship. She slapped her communicator. "Sick Bay to main announcement channel. This is Chief Medical Officer Crusher. I have declared a ship-wide medical emergency. Repeat, I have declared a ship-wide medical emergency. If you feel any symptoms such as heat, blankness, nausea, or are unable to stand up, please stay calm and either come in to Sick Bay or into a temporary treatment room in Cargo Hold 6, which will open in an hour. Crusher out."
Before she managed to open her mouth, she was paged by the Captain. "Beverly, what's going on?"
"Damn it, Captain, we didn't immunise our crew for Aldebaran Sun Fever! I'll bet a quarter of the ship is ill by now."
There was silence from the other side. Then, "I trust you're doing all you can. Picard out."
She shook her head to clear it, and then ran back in, rearranging shifts so that a second treatment room in Cargo Bay 9 was able to open as well. She sent supplies down, and then began the long trek of treatments.
Over on the bridge, the pace quickened slightly. Everyone knew the effects of Aldebaran Sun Fever – it was a knock-you-out-for-a-month-if-you-don't-catch-it-in-time disease, and a fairly painful and debilitating one, too. The Medical team were working overtime, and most people were caught fairly quickly. Picard was pacing his ready room, biting his cheek nervously. Will was tapping his fingers on the chair, and Deanna's hand was twitching toward stopping them. Geordi kept shifting in his chair, and even Data seemed preoccupied.
"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!" Picard strode out of his ready room. "What kind of breach of regulations is this?! We knew we were going to be in contact with a virulent disease, and we completely forgot about it?!?! Damn, damn, DAMN!"
Deanna sighed and got up. She walked to where Picard had leaned his head on the wall, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're all human, Captain, you have no need to worry so about it. We'll get over it, you know our medical team has no match in Starfleet."
Picard shrugged one shoulder. "Yes, I'm sure, Deanna, but this is a lapse of judgment detrimental to the standing of that medical team, myself, and even possibly the Enterprise!"
Deanna hushed him. "Don't speak that way. Be positive – the rest of the crew draws on you for strength and morale."
He nodded dumbly, and inside resolved to see this thing through without any further problems arising.
Little did he know that it would be less than possible.
During the next week Sick Bay and the two Cargo Hold infirmaries swelled to their limits, holding hundreds of people. Beverly was rushing around, administering doses of the strong fungal medicine from Vega Six, comforting patients in pain, helping the team – she felt like she was about to collapse. Geordi, Melisandre, Will, and Deanna popped by whenever they could to raise her morale, and Picard checked in on her frequently from the bridge. She leaned on her desk in exhaustion just as Geordi finished a shift and came in.
"Beverly! How's it going?" he said, smiling.
Beverly shook her head feverishly. "I can't contain it – it's spreading, and some of the med team with weaker immune systems are succumbing." She slammed her hand on the table. "Geordi, I can't keep this up. We're losing!"
He took her arm and gently seated her in a chair. "Hey, don't talk like that. Listen. We're going to win this, right? We have the most capable medical team in the galaxy. And, it's headed by the best goddamn CMO in Starfleet. The Fever hasn't got a chance!"
Beverly shook her head. "Geordi…"
He waved his hands at her and she stopped. "Listen, Doctor Crusher. You get in there, you show those guys what a hell of a team you are. We'll stop by later, 'Lise and Data and I, and we'll bring something for you to eat. 'Kay?"
She nodded weakly, got up, sighed, and with a wan smile walked back into the infirmary. Geordi walked back to Engineering, feeling better about her.
What neither Geordi nor Beverly noticed was that she was holding a tube with samples from one of the patients during their quick talk. Within the next 3 days, half of Engineering was in Sick Bay, including Geordi and Melisandre.
Meanwhile, Picard, pacing his ready room, was alerted by the computer's voice. "Urgent message from Starbase 238."
He sat down quickly and connected to the signal. It was from Admiral Thomson, who was stationed at Starbase 238, the nearest Starbase to the Enterprise's current position.
"Picard! I heard what's going on on the Enterprise. I must say I'm a bit ashamed, but hey, we're all human, we all make mistakes…"
Picard couldn't believe his ears. "Admiral…?"
Admiral Thomson laughed. "No worries, Picard, things happen. I have orders from Starfleet to get you all over here to some normal medical facilities. How soon can you be here?"
Picard hesitated, then paged the bridge. "Data, what is our ETA for Starbase 238 at warp 6?"
"3 days, 17 hours, sir," Data replied.
Picard relayed the information to Admiral Thomson. "Very good, Godspeed."
"Thank you, sir." Picard shut off the terminal and jogged to the bridge. "Lay in the course, Mr. Data."
"Course laid in."
"Make it so."
The Enterprise made a low humming sound and began to shake. Data shook his head. "We're still on half impulse."
Picard paged Engineering in a frenzy. "Bridge to Engineering."
There was no answer.
"ENGINEERING! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? WHERE ARE MY WARP ENGINES?!?!"
There was silence. Just as Picard, who was by now quite enraged, was about to page a third time, a timid voice spoke up, panting.
"I'm sorry, Captain, most of the officers from Engineering are in Sick Bay. This is Ensign Pandora Keyes. I can't reroute the warp engines myself, and the only other people here are Ensigns Gallagher, Burns, Himmler, and Davidson, and a few crewmen. We're running on bare minimum, you see."
Picard's mouth fell open. "Where 's Geordi?" he almost whispered.
"Sick Bay, sir."
"And Barclay?" he said, louder.
"Also Sick Bay."
"Asimov?" he nearly yelled.
"Her too, sir. Everyone, except the nine of us here. We're doing the best we can, sir. I'm sorry we can't do any better."
Picard collapsed into his chair, his eyes closed and mouth twisted into a tight line.
