The Path of the Prophets

Posted on 30 Nov 2023 @ 9:59am by Lieutenant Commander Elodin Devan MD

2,675 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Outbreak
Location: Antioch - Capital Medica
Timeline: Concurrent with Diplomatic Entanglements

OOC: This incorporates a significant portion of Elodin's introductory post, back when the Cygnus first launched, back in October 2020. The parallels between this current mission and that situation were simply too great of an opportunity to pass up.

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There could have been as many dead bodies stacked up in the corridors of the Capital City Medica as there were agonizing patients. Elodin had trouble getting through and making his way from one room to the next. The good news was that the vaccine seemed to be working - the flow of incoming patients had decreased by fifteen percent over the past seventy-eight hours.

Then again, thought Elodin grimly, that might be just because the virus was running out of people to kill.

They needed to find better ways of distributing this vaccine, and quickly. But just as importantly, they needed to find a way to treat the patients who had already contracted the disease. The vaccine would prevent new infections, but they were still in the dark as to preventing complications in those already infected. And then there was the dreaded possibility of a mutation against which the vaccine would be ineffective. So far though, five different strains of the virus had been identified, and the vaccine was still effective against those.

Their biggest challenge, though, was distribution. They needed to manufacture enough doses to inoculate the entire population of Antioch, and distribute it to every corner of the planet. The Cygnus simply didn't have the replicator or the transporter capacity of that scale. They were fighting a losing battle against this disease, despite their progress.

Somehow, by some fortunate intervention from the Prophets, Elodin suddenly found himself in a quiet room for a few minutes - alone. He stopped dead in his tracks, closed the door behind him, and breathed.

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Capella IV
Near the Klingon-Federation border
October, 2399 (Earth calendar)
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Elodin Devan loathed administrative meetings. He hated them with a passion. But part of his six-month engagement with Doctors Without Borders involved taking part in such things. He looked at the twenty faces assembled around the table. Representatives of Doctors Without Borders, nurses, scientists and local administrators, all were assembled to help resolve the current health crisis.

The planet of Capella IV, a Federation protectorate for the past hundred years, had recently been dealing with an outbreak of a deadly virus that had baffled local medical authorities. This close to the Breen border, in spite of the new treaty, Starfleet had been hesitant to send a team from Starfleet Medical, so they had used backchannels to get a team from Doctors Without Borders on site.

There was a two-fold approach to the epidemic. The research team had developed a vaccine to prevent infection, and there was a treatment available for those who were already infected. The virus caused painful scarring of the epithelial layers of the mouth and upper respiratory tract, before descending into the lungs, and destroying the alveolar cells, preventing the exchange of oxygen with the blood cells. In essence, after bleeding out of their mouth, nose and throat, the patients suffocated to death. It was a very slow and painful death. So far, out of a population of three hundred thousand people on Capella IV, twenty-five hundred people had died, and a further five thousand were infected. And the asymptomatic, undetectable three-month incubation period was just beginning for some of them.

Administering the vaccine was proving to be a logistical nightmare. The Capellans were divided into ten tribes, spread out over isolated areas pretty much all over the continent. But the greatest challenge came from the fact that Capellans deeply distrusted doctors, and firmly believed that anyone weak enough to become sick deserved to die. However, given the amplitude of the current crisis, the Teers of Capella had requested the help of the Federation in eradicating this disease.

"Teer Maak," spoke Elodin, addressing the seniormost Teer present at the conference. "Let me make sure I understand you correctly. We can administer the vaccine to prevent further infection among your people. But you are explicitly refusing to let us treat those who are already infected?"

The Teer stared at the doctor for several long seconds before merely nodding his head. Elodin was dumbfounded by his reaction - even the Teer's son was infected by the virus. He was effectively sentencing his own child to death.

Elodin got to his feet. "I can't accept that answer," he replied. "Five thousand people are suffering horribly from something we can cure. Your own son is suffering. And you won't let us do anything to help them."

The Teer also got to his feet. At over seven feet tall, he was towering over Elodin, and tried his best to intimidate him. "You will do nothing," he spoke slowly. "If they are too weak to survive, they will die."

And with that, he turned and left the meeting.

Elodin exchanged looks with the other Federation medical personnel, still unable to believe his ears. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Ambassador Nealon, the Federation dignitary who had called in the medical team in the first place.

"Doctor Elodin," said the diplomat. "Please remember that we are guests here. I want to make sure you understand Teer Maak's decision. We certainly don't want a diplomatic incident."

Frustration was reaching its peak as Elodin turned to the small-minded diplomat. "And let me just make sure you understand that I can shove a plateful of vaccines up your -"

"Doctor," interrupted th'Shylis, Elodin's Andorian head nurse. "We should really be getting back to the ward."

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Antioch - Present Day
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Elodin snapped out of his reverie, brought back to reality by someone knocking on the door. th'Shylis stood in the doorway.

"Four more patients incoming," said the Andorian. "Two in respiratory distress, one in apparent renal failure. No information on the fourth."

"I'm coming," said Elodin. One of the major roadblocks in developing a cure for this illness was their lack of knowledge of Antiocian physiology. They had incorporated as many biomedical texts from Antioch as they possibly could into the Cygnus's medical database, but for some reason, most medical knowledge seemed to be transmitted orally, and the medical texts they'd been able to incorporate had been incomplete. Elodin had made it mandatory to obtain complete tricorder scans of every incoming patient, and had even supplied the native medical personnel with Starfleet-issue medical tricorders, linked to the Cygnus's memory banks. He could only hope that the Cygnus computer had enough processing power to fully interpret the data and render a comprehensive model of Antiocian physiology before it was too late.

Elodin walked out and followed th'Shylis toward the entrance, where they met the emergency crew who were bringing in the latest victims of the disease.

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Capella IV - 2399
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Elodin quietly made his way through the rows of patients in the makeshift emergency hospital they had set up for the entire province. Seven hundred patients in all, at various stages of infection, and very little that he could do to help them under the circumstances. He could administer pain medication, and ease their suffering, but he was politically blocked from treating the virus. And he knew that all that was required was one injection of the medicinal cocktail. He had helped to develop the multi-layered liposomal and escheriosomal delivery system, designed to release the various drugs at different times after the cocktail was administered to the patient.

But now he wasn't allowed to use it. Because of politics and of an outdated value system.

As he walked past a patient, a hand shot up from the gurney and grabbed his. The hand was small and frail, the fingers gnarly and crooked as a stork's feet, adn the skin was thin as parchment paper. An elderly woman looked at him with panic in her eyes. Blood had stained the corners of her mouth and run down her nose. She coughed, and blood splattered Elodin's labcoat.

Elodin sat at the edge of the woman's bed, and pulled out a hypospray, ready to administer pain medication and a sedative. But the woman grabbed Elodin's hand and threw the hypospray away before Elodin could inject her. The medical officer could hear rasping and gurgling sounds in the woman's throat as she struggled to find breath, before finally the sounds stopped. The old woman collapsed down on the bed, exhausted, and blinked one last time, from eyes hidden deep inside the wrinkles on her face. Elodin fought back tears of sadness and frustration as he gently stroked the woman's hair and her cheeks, and watched as the life ran out of her eyes.

Finally he got to his feet, pulled the sheet over the woman's face, and tagged the gurney for cleanup. Orderlies would come to collect the body and get the gurney ready for the next patient. The body would be burned, to avoid any chance of contamination.

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Antioch - Present Day
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Elodin walked the floor of the emergency ward, his tricorder open and continually scanning each and every patient within a 20-meter radius. His mind kept racing, analyzing the data on the screen, trying to find hidden patterns in the data that might have escaped the advanced AI embedded in the device's logical circuits. There was something, he was sure of it, he could feel a tingle in the back of his mind. A breakthrough was close, just... Out of his reach.

He turned a corner in the corridor and came upon a pediatric bed, where a young Antiocian child, roughly the size of a human teenager, was resting, hooked up to a perfusion that was keeping him hydrated. A small trickle of blood had dried at the corner of the child's mouth, and his chest was rising and lowering with difficulty as he slept, no doubt under heavy sedation. Elodin extended his tricorder toward the child, hoping the additional data would help provide the answer.

The display changed along with the additional data. The medical computer had identified thirty potential metabolic pathways that could be potentially blocked to help counter the virus's actions. The trick was to find one that could be blocked without otherwise affecting the body's natural functions, or else find the least harmful.

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Capella IV - 2399
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He resumed his rounds, and finally came to a stop next to one of the small pediatric gurneys they had set up in a separate room. Children were kept separate from the adults, and individually, so as not to frighten them when the end came for one of the other patients.

The Teer's son looked up at him, his eight-year-old eyes filled with exhaustion and fear. He could see the sadness in Elodin's eyes. He stretched out a hand toward him. His small fingers were trembling.

"Baba doesn't want you to do it," said the boy.

"Your father is a very stubborn man," confirmed Elodin.

"Yeah," said the child in a rasping voice.

Elodin's data padd suddenly vibrated in his hand. He looked down at it, and saw the message indicator blinking. He pressed a thumb to the fingerprint reader, and opened the message.

His six-month leave of absence was coming to an end, a fact he'd lost sight of during the crisis on Capella IV. True to form, the message contained transfer orders. He was hereby requested and required to report to Devron Fleet Yards within three days, and stand by to receive further transfer orders. His preferred nurse, th'Shylis, had similar orders.

He looked at his small patient, completely taken by surprise by the order. He'd been so wrapped up in the current health crisis that he'd totally lost sight of the fact that his leave of absence was coming to an end.

He accessed the transport schedule. If he wanted to meet the deadline, his only option was to take the next available transport, which was four hours away.

The child held his hand tighter as a coughing fit seized him, sending blood splatters on the bedsheet.

"I'm scared," said the young boy after he'd caught his breath.

Elodin grabbed another hypospray from his pocket, resolve guiding his hand. He pressed the hypospray to the child's neck, and injected the medicinal cocktail that would cure him.

"Don't be," he said, following the injection with a dose of sedative. "Prophets, please, tell me I'm not doing a big thing badly," he breathed. Inwardly, he knew he was doing the right thing, but this time the political consequences scared him - not for what might happen to him, but for what they might mean for the other patients, and the other staffers here.

He quickly made his way through the pediatric ward, and quietly injected the children with the cocktail. The Teer might be able to disown, or even kill, one child who had been "illegally" cured from the virus, but it was something else entirely to do the same to two hundred and fifty children. And if the entire tribe turned its back on these children, they could go off and found the eleventh Capellan Tribe. Some of the children were already well into their teenage years, and would have the maturity needed to look after the younger ones.

He found th'Shylis at the nurses' station, and showed him the transfer orders.

"It's time for us to leave," he said, his eyes carrying the urgency of his order. He wanted to get offworld before someone discovered what he'd done. Maybe his departure would help smoothe over the diplomatic fallout.

th'Shylis frowned, his antennae perking up with perplexity. But he knew better than to ask questions.

They had very little personal belongings on Capella - nothing that couldn't be replaced. They each grabbed a small hand baggage with a change of clothes and basic toiletries, the data padds with their transfer orders, and headed for the Spaceport.

Once they were spaceborne, Elodin breathed a sigh of relief. He was happy about what he'd done - two hundred and fifty children would survive. His only regret was that he hadn't been able to do the same in the other tribes. But hopefully, he thought, his actions would serve as an example to medical personnel assigned to the other tribes, and others would follow.

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Antioch - Present Day
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Elodin snapped back in the moment with a start, a strange feeling washing over him. He was both certain and uncertain - had he been experiencing déjà vu, or had it been a vision from the Prophets? Being a man of deep religious convictions, the possibility of it being a vision soon emerged on top. The Prophets had laid out a path for him, and it could not be clearer.

The computer had narrowed down the list of possibilities to twenty metabolic pathways. The answer was within their grasp. They just needed a little more time. He needed a little more time.

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Dr Elodin Devan
Chief Medical Officer
USS Cygnus

 

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