(Untitled)

[hyposprayed]

Who: Nero and McCoy
When: nine tonight
Where: The infirmary, where else
What: McCoy needs to learn more about Romulan biology (not like that you fiends) and there just happens to be a Romulan on board.
Warnings: Probably blatant and unabashed space racism. That's how Star Trek rolls son

Comments

let me know if the slug observation is assuming too much!

[hyposprayed]

McCoy silently went about his task, running the scanner above Nero with slow, careful movements. If it weren't for all the baggage involved he could have enjoyed the discovery of it, seeing as no proper scans or work had been done on Romulan biology by the Federation or any planet the Federation had access to the medical files of. He was a little too busy with concern over T'Pol, or vague guilt at how angry Jim or Spock, despite what the Vulcan may say, would probably be at this.

He focused on the scans, eyes narrowing as the bigger picture came into place. Each marker was matching with T'Pol's perfectly, and it was growing steadily more obvious that there was no other explanation save for T'Pol being half Vulcan and half Romulan. He forced himself to finish the scans, leaving absolutely no room for doubt as he skimmed the data.

"Damnit." He muttered, brow furrowed as he pulled away. It took a moment for his attention to return to Nero, tapping the scanner off as he glanced back. "Healthy as a horse." He said, placing the scanner aside and crossing his arms as he watched the man. Something in the scans had caught his eye, and he couldn't help but voice it. "You knew to use the slug on Pike because you had one used on you, didn't you?" There was scarring along the same area, his Romulan biology must have somehow saved him from suffering a similar damage as Pike.

Nope, totally cool. :)

[omnicidalmaniac]

It took a surprising effort of will for Nero to stay still, and not jump up before the tests were half done. He hadn't thought all that time on Rura Penthe had stuck with him so badly, but this was turning out to be much more difficult than he'd anticipated. Huh. It was the sort of lingering psychological reaction, he thought, with a tinge of self-disgust, he'd normally only expect from a human. He'd been around too many of them too long.

The more he watched McCoy, the more certain he became that this had something to do with T'Pol--but he could hardly ask her about it, either. Well, he could, but he knew he'd get no answer beyond a very Vulcan kind of Look. Possibly complete with eyebrow.

He sat up, more relieved to do so than he would ever let on even to himself. "I did," he said. "They are not fatal, but they're almost impossible to fight." Two years he'd had that thing in him, and if he hadn't already spent the previous twenty-three in complete silence, it would have cracked him like an egg. Fortunately, by the time they'd thought to use the thing on him, he hadn't spoken in so long he'd almost literally forgotten how.

thanks :]

[hyposprayed]

"Maybe not in Romulans." McCoy said, tone edging on something like open hostility again. He probably would have informed him on Pike's chances of walking again if he thought it would make a difference. For all he knew Nero would be pleased to hear the Captain's condition.

"Who did it?" He asked, placing his scanner away in the cabinet as he spoke. He paused, remembering Uhura and her transmission. "The Klingons?"

Re: thanks :]

[omnicidalmaniac]

"Of course," Nero said, remembering the feeling of that thing working its way down into his stomach. "The Klingons are rather--creative--with things like that; I think they took lessons from the Tal Shiar. Romulus's secret police," he added, realizing McCoy would have no idea what he was talking about. "That wasn't the worst of their little pets, either, but I was of no use to them dead." He'd been little more good alive, but fortunately their patience with him hadn't run out.

He had to admit, it was...surreal...talking to McCoy now, now that he was himself and not that other him. Having met the doctor as that other Nero somehow made him not resent the man as he did the rest of the Enterprise crew, and that, like so much else that had happened during that flood, still confounded him utterly. At this point he wasn't sure he'd ever get over it.

[hyposprayed]

"You were on that prison planet then." It was rather obvious now, though it wasn't something he had given much thought to in the past.

McCoy stared at him, conflict rather obviously playing out on his face. The doctor in him wanted to ask about the damage the slug did, any lasting effects and was already considering what he could do about it with what they had here. The rest of him violently rebelled against that idea, it was Nero for god's sake, look what he did to Jim's life, to Spock's, if he had a few lasting headaches he damn well deserved them. Even with the Mirror flood, it was a betrayal to Jim and Spock, to the Federation maybe.

Damnit if he wasn't a doctor before anything else.

McCoy's fingers curled tightly for a moment before he ducked his head, suppressing a sigh. "Since the slug, have you had any lasting headaches or trouble forming thoughts?"

Sorry for the delay--family stuff, argh.

[omnicidalmaniac]

"I was."

He watched McCoy curiously, wondering what was behind that conflicted expression. Romulan physicians weren't bound by the sort of oaths Federation doctors took--it could be difficult to find one who wasn't willing to poison you for a sufficient fee. He had a hazy understanding that the Federation didn't work that way at all.

The doctor's question almost made him laugh, though quite without humor. He'd had trouble forming thoughts since long before the slug. "Headaches, yes," he said--though not so many since he'd died, thank all Fate. "Trouble forming thoughts--I do not think I could blame on the slug. Not entirely." Even he was aware he'd lost it a little while he was in prison; Nero wasn't stupid, just more than halfway crazy. The strange, formless, nearly uncontrollable quasi-telepathy certainly hadn't helped any, even if it had kept T'Pol from turning his consciousness to goo.

no problem! I hope everything's alright :<

[hyposprayed]

McCoy stared at him hard, lips twitching in a frown before he finally forced himself to say it. He knew damned well he was going to offer, no use delaying the inevitable.

"It seems like there was some residual scarring left from the slug." He started. "I'd need to take a few more scans but I think I may be able to fix some of the damage."

Yeah, just busy, bleh.

[omnicidalmaniac]

Both pointed eyebrows went up at that. No, definitely not like the doctors on Romulus; Nero had a feeling McCoy wouldn't poison him even now, though he likely still wanted to. Then again, he was dead; it wasn't like it would do anything anyway. Though the expression with which he regarded McCoy was still wary, it was less so than it had been earlier.

"It wouldn't surprise me," he said. "The infirmary on the Narada was not equipped for complex surgery." It got the job done, but it had been a mining ship, not a vessel of war, and there hadn't been time to update the sickbay when they turned the ship into a warship.

I feel you there

[hyposprayed]

McCoy didn't know what to make of the expression, maybe Romulans didn't practice medicine with much compassion. Hell, maybe he thought McCoy was an idiot for offering his enemy something like that. Lord knows he probably was.

Maybe he didn't believe him. "Then it's your choice." He said, trying for a strictly professional tone. "We have the technology here to do a good deal, and if we need something we can ask the Admiral. Talk to your warden about it."

[omnicidalmaniac]

Oddly, Nero wasn't considering McCoy weak for that offer--probably a residual after-effect of the flood, since the flood had been his introduction to the Doctor. He was right about the lack of compassion in Romulan medicine, though.

"I need to speak with my Warden in any case," he said; Ian had left, and he hadn't yet met up with Harvey Dent, who was apparently his new Warden. "If there is something that might be done for it, I...wouldn't say no." He hesitated, and decided what came next would be a statement rather than a question. "I think I know why you need these scans," he said, gesturing to the machine that had already taken some. "If there is anything more, I would give it." There, he hadn't actually said anything he shouldn't have, even if he wasn't quite sure why he'd offered. Possibly because, even though half-breeds were highly frowned upon by both cultures, and even though T'Pol was outwardly completely Vulcan, she was the only other person on this Barge with even a little Romulan blood, and one of the few now living (in his timeline, anyway) in the universe. And he definitely didn't envy her predicament.

[hyposprayed]

McCoy stared at him, something like surprise flashing across his face. He forced his expression to settle, the hostility still there but strained some how, almost confused.

"If you know why then you'll know not to say anything." He said. It was dangerous, the Romulans were their enemies in his time, in T'Pol's time. If the wrong people knew it could easily be used against her. If Nero knew-

He turned sharply for his PADD, tapping something in. "I have what I need, talk to that Warden of yours and we'll see about your head." He paused before shooting a glare at Nero. "Well, out with you. This isn't a damned social club." And McCoy wasn't sure he could handle anymore of the confusion he was already trying to smother.

[ooc; if you'd like to go ahead with this whole fixing his brain slug scarring thing I'm game :> he'd need to talk to Harvey then inform McCoy.]

[omnicidalmaniac]

Nero nodded, just barely perceptibly. "I do, and I won't. I promised." And even now, his word was good, however unscrupulous the rest of his actions might be.

McCoy's next words actually made him almost smile, albeit very, very dryly and more than a little cynically. It seemed the doctor was willing to help him in spite of his every wish to the contrary.

"I will," he said. "I will speak with you again, when I know." He couldn't see any reason Harvey would be against it, unless he turned out to be some sort of sadist, which Nero somehow doubted; he had a hazy idea that the only actual sadists were inmates.

((OOC: I've got him in a thread with Harvey right now, so he'll let McCoy know soon. :)))

[hyposprayed]

McCoy nodded, face drawn in a pressed sort of expression. Could Nero actually know- and how the hell did he find out from T'Pol? It was irking, that Nero of all people knew when he didn't. Perhaps T'Pol did know her heritage. If she did it made sense she'd want to keep it a secret from him, considering the rather blatant dislike of Romulans in general thanks to what happened with Nero and the Narada.

Of course he'd have to tell Jim and Spock too if he was going to work on Nero's scarring at all. He bit back a sigh. It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to, seeing as both men were more than a little touchy when it came to the subject of Nero and he doubted even Spock would be willing to simply label it as logical for him to do his damned job.

Of course they hadn't seen Nero during the flood, been helped by the man he could have been, or seen him here, so easily keeping T'Pol's secret if that's what he was refering to. He seemed earnest, and while that was strange and far too confusing in it's own sense it was better than the alternative.

"If anything happens to her because you decided to run your mouth you can be damned sure I'll forget my Hippocratic oath when I deal with you." He said, glancing over with a hard expression, watching carefully to see if Nero understood his words.

[ooc; awesome :> we'll plot more then~]

[omnicidalmaniac]

He arched an eyebrow. "My word is still good," he said, "whatever else I might have done. Her secret is quite safe with me." Maybe it was because the first time she'd met him he'd been the other him; maybe it was simply because half her heritage was also his own, even if her other was that of his sworn enemies. "I promised I would say nothing, and I will keep it. And I have no wish to advertise how I came to know it." Romulans shouldn't be able to do that, and if anyone knew that he could--well. It was possibly the one good thing that had come from his extended stay in prison--none of them would have got out, if not for it--but he didn't want it known. He certainly didn't want to use it, and not just because it was a somewhat distasteful reminder that Romulans and Vulcans were once the same people. It was unsettling even for him, which was really saying something--especially since he couldn't exactly control it, and all it had shown him in prison had been, well, from Klingons. The association was not something he wanted to be reminded of. There was more than one reason he didn't allow people to touch him, though at some point McCoy might have to, which could get...problematic. That would be a very nasty thing for the doctor to find out the hard way, but he was understandably somewhat reticent to speak of it. Like T'Pol, there were some things he simply didn't want known, though in his case it might be unavoidable. He'd kept it tamped down when he'd shaken Ian's hand, but it hadn't been easy.

He eyed McCoy very strangely. "Tell me," he said, "would such surgery require anything like physical contact?" If so, he really did need to give some kind of warning; the doctor really didn't need to get inundated with his nastier memories while his stomach was opened up. "If that is the case, I must ask you to keep what might happen to yourself. She is not the only one with secrets."

((Awesome :). And poor Nero is a little panicked, even if he would never show it.))

[hyposprayed]

He knew, that much was for certain. McCoy nodded slowly, hoping the Romulans were an honor culture so every word he was saying about his promise was true. It was hard to say, though his comment piqued McCoy's interest. "How did you come to know it?" He asked bluntly. Subtly was never his strong suit.

"Physical contact? Yes, some. It's unavoidable if I'm working in that head of yours." McCoy answered, giving him a strange look back. "What exactly 'might happen?'"

[ooc; his life is really hard :< I will give him that]

[omnicidalmaniac]

He thought a moment, wondering how to say this. "She was...very different, during the flood. More like my people. She--I believe the most accurate term would be mind-raped me, but in my case such a thing can go both ways. I have...very little control over it; I didn't know what I was doing until she realized I knew about--that. When she returned to normal, I promised I would say nothing of it." And how bizarre that meeting had been; normal-T'Pol was so very different from mirror-T'Pol. Had he not already known what she was, he would never have been able to guess. She hid her secret well.

He fell silent, pondering again. "Under anesthetic I think I could not control it at all. You might well see things no one would want to see, and surgery is not something in which anyone should lose concentration." He certainly wouldn't want any of him sliced to pieces by accident. That would just be embarrassing, as well as highly inconvenient.

((Yeah, it's not easy being Nero. Unfortunately for him, he brought it all on himself XD.))