Ice Pack

 Episode Name:  Ice Pack

   Written By:  Genesis

         Cast:  Alarcon, Albertz, Caeli, Darax, Genesis, Havaris, Haven, Javits, 
                Medes, Nolte, Poole, Sharei, Starfleet and Vimes.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Shaft

     Aired On:  Sun May 18 18:08:54 2003

     Stardate:  53223.7

Time: Thu May 15 20:07:22 2003

Stardate: 53216.7

The U.S.S Thomas Paine glides like a bird in synchronous orbit with the U.S.S. Merrimac above the frozen wasteland of K'lia Fimdari. Tensions run high on the bridge, and all over the ship. Starfleet has got a team down there, a team of officers, friends, and loved ones. There have been injuries, and though contact has been established with the away team, they still need to get pulled out of there. Lt.Cmdr. Poole has just strode onto the bridge...

"All stations report," Poole announces, then hands out a demi-order to Havaris at Ops. "Once we are in range, signal Lt. Cmdr's team and prepare to beam them into the space Doctor Haven has prepared." Then she goes to sit down.

"Understood, Sir. We're actually in range now." Havaris taps at his console, turning his head back to note, "Sir, the Merimac will be wanting their shuttle back. Shall I simply beam the away team out of there and we can recover the shuttle once the ADF arrives on-scene? And will we be vectoring into the surface via the transporters, Sir, or will we borrow another shuttle from the Merimac?" His gaze shifts back to his terminal as he continues his work. "We're still getting some interference down there, but I will attempt to compensate. One moment."

<CONTEST> Havaris contests his Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Alarcon sits soberly at her station, her attention focused on her displays. "Sciences reporting, Sir. The atmosphere is playing havoc with ship's sensors, but I'm attempting to scan for them." She is, at the moment, strictly business.

GAME: Alarcon spends a courage point.

Caeli glances up to Poole before reading off of his console. "Tactical and defense systems on cold standby, commander. Everything's green on my front." His eyes rest on the viewscreen, then, as if he might be able to pick out the missing away team with the naked eye.

<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

GAME: Darax spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Darax (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

Darax sits at Mission Ops station, hands competently running over his LCARS. Upon Poole's arrival, he makes a quick scan of his own displays and goes about work. "I can't get a transporter lock on them. Geothermal irregularities and high eloectromagnetic radiance are making it difficult to get a lock, sir."

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Haven steps out of the turbolift.

Haven has arrived.

The turbolift doors slide closed.

The lift doors open to allow Haven access to the bridge. She pauses for a moment to get her bearings then steps further in. "Everything is prepped down there, Sir" she offers to Poole or Havaris, which ever isn't busy at the moment.

Albertz follows close in tow behind Haven, the young Ensign sticking as close to the doctor as possible without /seeming/ like he's sticking close. He looks around the bridge slowly, eyes taking in everything.

Poole looks to Havaris, "The first option, Kusto. Is the shuttle on the surface still operable? Can we beam in there and use it as our base of operations?" She nods to Darax, then to Havaris, "Lieutenant, will you give the transporters a shot?" A side look to Alarcon, "Any chance of finding Commander Kasa, Lieutenant?... I know the Merimac has tried, but, they don't have you, so..."

. o O Caeli thinks "Er... don't we have a channel open?"

Havaris manages to coax open a channel and begins speaking in an effort to test the signal's acuity. "USS Thomas Paine to Thomas Paine Mission Operations Away-Team, this is Lieutenant Havaris, please respond." A pause. "USS Thomas Paine to Thomas Paine Mission Operations Away-Team, come in Commader Park." Another pause. "USS Thomas Paine to Thomas Paine Mission Operations Away-Team, how do you find me? This is Lieutenant Havaris, please respond." While waiting for the response, Havaris glances back, "The Shuttle is Operational, Sir, but buried under the snows. We could probably work her free if we had to, though that can wait."

Alarcon's face splits in a wide grin. "Everyone's in the shuttle, Sir. Lifesigns are all... fair to good." Her fingers dance across the displays. "I believe I've now cut through the interference enough for the transporters to function, as well." Very slightly hunched shoulders relax. A bit. "Trying to find Kasa and his team now." Her smile flares slightly at the compliment from Poole, but soon fades down to her earlier, intensely sober expression as she concentrates.

<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!

Caeli stands at the tactical console quietly, tapping his thumbs along the rim of the panel idly.

Haven settles silently along the back bulkhead, staying out of the way of the bridge crew. She sighs a breath of relief at Alarcon's confirmation of lifesigns. Thank you, Prophets.

Darax frowns at his terminal before moving his hands over it again. Beep. Whir. All of that stuff goes on under his hands while he makes another attempt to get a lock. Just as a safety measure, mind you. If the shuttle is operable, it may not be necessary.

Albertz clasps his hands in front of him and stands beside Haven, not too close of course. His eyes flick back and forth between the other officers as they speak.

<CONTEST> Darax (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

At the same time that Alarcon and Darax's consoles respond with positive pings in stereo, a voice comes over the comm. It's a little crackly, but it's recognizably Aaron Park. "This is Away Team, Thomas Paine. We're reading well, Kusto. Thanks for coming out and giving us a lift home." Havaris' board lights up with a hail from the Merrimac.

"Outstanding, Aaron. Good to hear your voice again. Gwen has ordered me to inform you that you need to prep your team for beam-out. We'll be leaving the shuttle for the ADF teams to dig out. The Merimac is staying around, so that can stay behind. You, however, are coming home." Havaris pauses as he glances to his terminal's board. "Stand by, Aaron. I've got a hail from Davenport." Pausing his open channel, he switches frequencies. "Go ahead, Merimac. This is Lieutenant Havaris."

A voice comes over the comm. "Lt.Havaris, this is Captain Davenport. Just letting your team know we've prepped our own medical bays, and standby to render any assistance as necessary. If you have any trouble cutting through the interference, let us know, and we'll try to triangulate."

Poole smiles and nods to Havaris, he's handling the coms after all. "Beam them up once they signal that they are ready... work with the Merimac if we can't quite get them up here." She finds her seat in the Big Chair. Glancing over to Haven and Albertz, she says, "I'll want you on the team going down, if we have to go down to pick up Kasa... if we find him..." She looks Alarcon's way hopefully. "Caeli, keep your eyes pointed outwards... The last thing we need is someone showing up unexpectedly."

"Understood, Sir. We'll keep you posted. Thomas Paine out." Havaris closes down that channel and brings Park's back up. "Sorry for the wait, Sir. Inform me when you are prepped and ready for beam-out. We'll get you up and out of there and into sick bay directly. Everyone is getting a visit to the Doctor's. Captain's orders. We'll await your signal." Havaris puts the signal on stand by and begins switching out the power levels to accomodate transporters. "Understood, Sir. Prepping the transporters now."

As if on cue, Park's voice can be heard over the comm, chuckling. "You don't need to tell us twice. We'll be ready shortly. Be adivsed that I have one wounded crewman who will need to be beamed to sickbay."

And her display pings again. Brow furrowing, expression one of cautious optimism, Alarcon lifts a slender finger and notes, "Sir. I have a strong lifesign near a hot spring. Male... and Bolian." Her displays keep her attention glued there, and soon her fingers return to sliding across the surface of her LCARS.

Haven gives a nod to Poole, "Aye. Prepped and ready." Then a brow perks at Park

Caeli nods, sending the tactical sensors outwards in expanding spirals, a favorite pattern of his. "Aye, sir." His attention perks at Alarcon's discovery, and he keeps one ear out for what may come of it.

"I have a transporter lock on the Away Team, sir," Darax informs the Poole and the rest of the bridge without looking up from his station, "and can bring them up on their mark." Even as he speaks he keeps his hands moving over terminal. "Shall I also try for a lock on the location of that lifesign, sir?"

Haven gives a nod to Poole, "Aye. Prepped and ready." Then a brow perks at Park's statement. She doesn't need to say they *all* go to sickbay as Havaris beat her too it.

Albertz smiles slightly as contact is made with the marooned crewmates. Sounds like sickbay is going to be a busy place, shortly.

A voice that is probably most welcome to the bridge crew is suddenly heard, feminine and strong-sounding. "Thomas Paine, this is Lt. JG Medes. Hi, Kusto. Commander Park is back with Ensign Spect, he's requested that they both be beamed directly to sickbay. I'm to handle coordination with you from this point on by his request."

Another voice cuts in before Havaris has a chance to reply, "Thomas Paine, this is Lieutenant JG Javits. What is the status on the missing team? I'm picking up a series of phaser emission signatures a kilometer to the northwest of our position and extending for another two kilometers in that direction. Are you or the Merrimac scanning near that area?"

Havaris can't contain his smile at the sound of his wife's voice. He can't. He tries, but he fails miserably. His head shakes slowly and in disbelief before he says simply, "Damn good to hear your voice, Lieutenant. Understood. I am giving the go-ahead to Ensign Darax now. They'll be aboard shortly." Havaris glances to Darax, giving him said nod. He turns back to the terminal to reply to Javits, "We have a signal lock on elements of that away-team, Lieutenant, but they're no longer your concern. Get your team prepped and ready for extraction. This is the third time I've had to say it, and it was an order from the Paine's Commander the first time I said it."

Poole sits back, cool and collected as a Brit... wait, she /is/ a Brit. Well, that's a change from the ordinary. She looks to Alarcon, "Scan for those phaser emissions, Isobel?... Are they near that Bolian signature?... And how feasible is it to beam him out of there?"

Alarcon frowns down at her displays, following orders. "Yes, Sir... I'll let you know shortly, Sir." Her frown stems not from any emotion but that same rigid concentration. After a moment, she continues, "The phaser emissions... they lead up to the cave where he is. Beaming him and the away team out simultaneously would be tricky... I recommend we pass on our lock to the Merrimac. Shall I send them the data, Sir?"

Caeli listens quietly, but intently, glancing back once to Haven with a small smile. Not much for the jarhead to do, right about now.

<CONTEST> Darax (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Haven frowns. Phasers. Not good. Just when she's all set to worry and stew, she catches Zip and shakes her head a touch. Damn him. Spoiling her serious mood! She gives him a quick wink before glancing at Albertz and says, "You alright? You're looking a little.. green."

Darax nods at Havaris' nod. With a couple of quick motions over the station with his hands, the Bolian works his presto-changeo magic. "Commander Park and Ensign Spect have been beamed to sick bay." With that, he lets his attention leave his station for a moment so that he may turn to look at Poole and then Haven before returning his attention to Mission Ops.

Poole dance.

All the colour seems to drain from Albertz's already fair complexion and the mention of "green". He thought he was doing a rather good job of looking professional and experienced. "Ach, I'll survive I suppose. Things seem rather...calm. A good chance to ease in, I suppose." he stage whispers to Haven.

Medes replies, her voice issuing from the comm, "Yours too, Lieutenant." She pauses, and then notes, "Sorry for the confusion, Lieutenant, we've been scanning since before we heard from you, and we've had a little confusion down here. No one's disregarding orders. We've been in the process of prepping. Seven to beam up. Energize."

"Stand by," Havaris notes towards his terminal prior to glancing back to Darax once more. "Assuming two of those seven are in the hold, five to beam aboard. Put them in the transporter room, they can make it to sick bay, and it cuts the site-to-site risk." Havaris then looks back to his terminal noting, "Two in the hold, five to beam out, aye. Welcome home, Away Team. Havaris out." He taps his terminal and settles back in his seat with a puff of air.

"When we have our entire team up, I want to lock in on that bolian signal. We'll beam him to the Thomas Paine... then, perhaps, we'll send a team down to fetch the shuttle," Poole muses (and orders coincidentally). She does dance in a way in her chair, fidgeting as her bridge crew works seamlessly.

<CONTEST> Darax (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Works... the term is used loosely as it applies to the Bolian at tactical. He taps at his console a few times, telling the sensors to keep meandering around space looking for something that might not like their presence, and alert him if he finds anything. Meanwhile, Caeli waggles a brow back at Haven, testing her stoicism.

Haven has been looking Albertz over and nods before patting him on the shoulder. "Hang in there." Then she turns back to watch the bridge crew. A brow rising at Zip's brow waggle. She gives him a look that says as clearly as words 'if we weren't on the bridge, I'd stick my tongue out at you'. Then her eyes shift to her PADD, checking for some word from Park.

"Five more to to the transporter room," Darax calls out, parroting his orders. "Energize," he pauses for a moment to watch his monitors telling him what is going on. "Away team is aboard. Five in the transporter room and two in the medical bay that Dr. Haven set up."

Albertz smiles both at the pat from Haven and the news that the away team is on board. He gives Haven a questioning look, now that the impromptu medical bay has patients in it.

Poole nods once the away team is aboard, "Isobel... if you could help with the transporter lock on the Bolian signature? Assist Mr. Darax in the beam out. Hopefully we can put an end to this and head on home... with minimal losses."

A voice comes over the comm, "Transporter Room to Bridge, away team on board."

Havaris glances over his shoulder at Haven and Albertz, eyes shifting to the doors of the bridge, then back to the medical officers. Nonverbal, since he's not in command. He turns back about in his seat and continues tweaking the power levels of the underpowered, undergunned, under-everythinged tin pot that is the Thomas Paine.

Alarcon nods. "Yes, Sir," she replies, still bent intently over her displays. Her posture isn't likely to truly relax until she's on the station again, and all her attention is focused on the task at hand.

Caeli snaps out of his teasing-the-ACMO reverie and pipes up to Poole, "Commander, I think we may be able to bring the shuttle back as well."

<CONTEST> Alarcon (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Haven doesn't need to look fro Havaris, really. She knows her job but she was also told to stand fast by Commander Poole. However, she turns to Albertz and says, "Dr Park and Nurse Shaeri are down there so why don't you go give them a hand. If we don't need to go top side then I'll join you."

At the order from Poole, Darax begins to work his hands over his LCARS once more. Not that he expects it will be needed with Lieutenant Alarcon trying to bring him aboard, too, but he's ready just in case.

Alarcon keeps her eyes trained on the displays, adjusting readings and frowning deeply in her customarily sciency way. "Hmm. Sir, I've automated a transport sequence, but the readings are just now showing some... unusual features of Kasa's biosigns. We're experiencing a greater level of geothermal interference, so this might take a moment or two longer than normal, but I feel certain it -will- succeed. Kasa..." She hesitates, then sallies forth. "Commander Kasa's molecular pattern appears to contain elements of other humanoid lifeforms. My transport sequence was geared to sickbay as a general precaution, since no one specified otherwise."

A voice issues from the comsystem. "Crewman Jones to Bridge. We've got a bunch of people in sickbay who could really use a welcome home, sir, and an incoming transport signal directed from Lt.Alarcon, keyed to arrive in two minutes. Jones out."

Poole 's face screws up a bit at Alarcon's news, but she's up and out of her chair. "Lt. Cmdr Poole to Beta Shift... report to the bridge." She looks around, "Those of you who want to greet your fellows... follow me. Anyone who wants to stay on duty is free to do so." With little more ado, she heads for the turbolift.

Genesis has left.

Albertz has arrived.

Havaris has arrived.

Haven has arrived.

Caeli has arrived.

Alarcon has arrived.

Darax has arrived.

Poole has arrived.

Everybody seems to arrive in sickbay at once. Spect is lying on a biobed, being tended by Park. The shaken and battered crew from the surface has just made it here from the transporter room, moving slowly because of the brace Medes wears on her leg. They enter from a doorway on one side of sickbay; from the other side, at exactly the same time, comes the bridge crew, en masse. Crewman Jones is standing by a pad on the wall, waiting for the beam-in of Kasa, the Bolian officer who the Thomas Paine team found on the surface. Alarcon's transport program is due to deliver him in a minute or two more.

Poole moves immediately to Medes, she looks like she's going to ATTACK... nope, just a light embrace. And the tears. She's tired of being strong it seems. Sorry Havaris. First dibs is first dibs.

Havaris paces into the sickbay, hands folded loosely across his stomach. He allows Poole to outpace him, never really taking much of an advance forward at all. He steps to the side a bit, adopting a lean against the bulkhead, eyes checking in on each and every member as they make themselves known. Staying out of the way seems the order of the da.

Alarcon is very glad to see everyone, but there are no tearful, emotional reunions for her to make. Instead, she steps aside so endearments and medical treatment can ensue, giving everyone a kind of shy thumbs-up before neatly clasping her hands behind her back, an equally quiet and understated smile on her face.

Javits slows his pace upon entering sickbay, glancing to the away team members and the oncoming officers with a slight frown. He chooses to step aside as well, directing a concerned look in Spect's direction.

Medes hugs Poole in kind, leaning on her friend for support. She's wearing clothes that positively /swim/ on her -- emergency clothes packed in the shuttle, apparently -- and has all of her personal effects gathered in one hand or stuffed into the pockets of the overlarge clothing. "So. I fell. But I'm okay. I'm way, way too stubborn to die, Poolio." After another squeeze, she gestures toward the rest of her away team, starting with Javits and Vimes. "Thank him and him first. They /caught/ me. Then the rest of them. We'd have gone under without any one of them." She backs away, running a hand over the five-day growth of hair on her head. "I go hug my husband now, Gwen." And with tears running down her own face, she starts limping over to do just that.

Caeli moves immediately to Spect's biobed, inquiring briefly about his friends' condition before murmuring a soft prayer and turning away, walking towards Vimes. Approaching the other security officer, he lays a comforting hand on the Dispatch officer's shoulder. "How're you holding up, John?" he queries with a warm smile, putting Dave's condition on his mental back burner.

With Park busy with Spect, Loni moves right for Dax. Her reasons are two fold. Give the Medes/Havaris/Poole clan time to do their thing and to check on her friend. "Hamish, Check with Dr. Park, see if he needs help. If not then start checking on the others." Then she turns to Dax. "I've got your meds, Dax." She spares a glance at Medes then back to Dax. She doesn't want to rush Dax but she does slide just a bit away from him, though she has his hypo ready.

Darax, like Alarcon has no tearful reuinions to make. Slipping off to the side, not too far from the Science Officer in question, he takes a look around at the returning away team with a smile before he looks over to Lieutenant Havaris. Whether the Bajoran sees it or not, he nods in some vaguely acknowledging sort of way before going back to being quietly happy about the safe return of the away team.

. o O Caeli thinks "Come on, Dave. You can pull through this... you've got more midnight shifts in the center chair ahead of you."

Nolte shuffles into sickbay. She lifts her shoulders, setting them back, strong and steady, to watch the r-unions as they go around. The young officer's eyes hit the ground, for now. She crosses her arms over her chest. Her massive, fuzzy hair sticking far out from the rest of the crowd. She waits, silent and ansy.

Coming into sickbay with Javits helping him, Vimes is doing a one-legged shuffle while keeping his injured knee from bearing any weight on it. Four days without a shower, shave or decent cup of coffee. A few dried blood stains are on the arms and shoulders of his uniform, after that first fall, tethered to the whole away team, that took them into that ravine. Gritting his teeth, but giving Caeli as much of a grin as he can, he nods, "I should be alright, sir. Thank-you, sir. May I have another?" and chuckles, "Actually, sir, could I have the weekend off?"

Sharei looks up groggily at Haven. He's got a fresh nose-bleed, but he's trooping right along. Even though his hands are shaking visibly, and he's got a facial tic in the left eye now and again. "Thank the F-four," he stammers, reaching for the airhypo with trembling fingers. "Th-the stuff I synthesized r-ran out yesterd-day."

A deferential nod to the Doctor and Albertz threads his way through the considerable crowd to Dr. Park and the patient, sizing up the other injures on the returned away team as he does so. No tearful reunions, but a job to do, thankfully. He speaks quietly to the CMO, asking if any assistance is required.

Crewman Jones is finalizing the preparations for beam-in of the Bolian and related anomalous biomatter, speaking over the comm unit of the impromptu sick-bay. "Acknowledged, Transporter Room. Straight to our location. Standing by." He turns to await the arrival of the final survivor from the surface, lacing his hands at his back and attempting a stoic expression for the sake of what he expects he may see.

What appears on the floor of the sick bay floor is something impossible to prepare for, even on a very good day. The sparkling light of emerging transporter signatures begin to fade away into solid and grisly realities. Five bodies lay on the deckplates, frozen in various rictus states, stiff as dried cordwood, some who had died on their backs laying now in their sides with their arms and legs frozen in sickening still-life, faces blank, eyes glazed and milky. Several are even out of uniform, their bluish tinted skin torn in places, chunks of muscle missing as though something had been eating at them slowly over time. The only thing that moves is a spindly and awkward blue-shirted Bolian, the three solid pips on his collar denoting him as Kasa. He had been staring blankly at nothing, though the sudden change in scenery causes him to glance about sharply with wild eyes. One one side there is the cleanly dressed bridge crew, Alarcon among them. On the other side, the beaten rescue team, Medes being a member. The only two faces he recognizes in the crowd. He pushes away from the ring of his former comrades turned food supply with wild kicks of his boots until he impacts with the wall. He keeps glancing between the two officers in turn, looking progressively more shamed, wretched, and guilty as the seconds tick away. Finally, he shrieks at Alarcon, rather than Medes, attempting to rebutt the disgust she has yet to express. "That planet is a /killer/! FIMDARI IS /ALIVE/! AND SO AM I! /AND SO AM I/!" He keeps right on ranting, too. "That Anomaly woke something up down there! It /breathes/ at night! It /talks/ in the cold! And if you listen, you lie down, and you don't get back up again!" The once respected Starfleet Commander wraps his arms over his head slowly, releases a high pitched whine, and just starts rocking slowly.

Back and forth.

Like the lazy drift of the gentle snows below.

Poole smiles and nods to Medes, patting her shoulder lightly before looking to Javits, "I owe you one, Lieutenant..." To Vimes, "Both of you... My thanks." Oooo, and there's Nolte! She puts a hand on the woman's shoulder, "Femke... You look... wonderful... wonderful and alive. Thank goodness....." And then there's Kasa. And the dead people. Her face screws up in shock and disgust. "Beam them back out... beam them away. Now." she orders. "And someone hypo the Commander..." She moves towards him, ready to pounce on him if he tries any of his cannabalism on one of her crew.

Havaris slips away from the wall as Medes limps his way, moving somewhat briskly to spare her the need. The embrace he offers her is, actually, incredibly tender and slow. No telling what part of her hurts, after all. After that first embrace, he leans back a bit to run a hand over her head and smile crookedly. "You need a shave." Then there's a kiss delivered. A brief one, of course. Time for more on the return trip. Once the beam in begins, he backs away from Medes and turns to find that horrible mileu spread out like a dinner table. It effects him all at once. His demeanor snaps into a hard mask, and he actually forces himself to look at it all, even Kasa. Especially Kasa. With that done, he turns away quickly, only to look back again -- briefly -- before looking away again. Again he looks back. And then the veteran of two wars and dozens of battles drops to his knees and wretches up his evening chow. Apparently there are some things that can get to him, after all.

Alarcon's eyes widen as Kasa & Co. materialize. Her posture grows more rigid as what she is seeing coalesces so horribly into reality right before them all. She stands there, stock-still, as Kasa's eyes lock onto her and he begins his shrieking. To look at her, you'd think she was weathering a terrible gale. Her eyes remain locked to Kasa's, unable to tear herself away from the grisly tableau before her and the fierce departure from the Kasa she knew. Her hands clasp one another until her knuckles are a pained white, short fingernails digging slightly into her own palms. Stunned, she expresses no disgust, only abject, wide-eyed disbelief. She even opens her mouth as if to say something, only no words come. After a moment, she closes it. Havaris vomits nearby, Poole is yelling orders, but the Science Officer is, for the moment, completely oblivious. As the keening begins, as Kasa mercifully releases her from his gaze, she closes her eyes, just as tightly as she possibly can. Her olive skin has gone a sickly pale.

Javits chuckles at Vimes' comments, flashing a grin and shaking his head, "Have to ask Lieutenant Dakin about leave, though after this, I'm sure we'll get a few days to recover, some more than others." Looking to Poole, he stands a little straighter, still lending support to Vimes. "There wasn't much else we coul..." His humour drops as the missing team is beamed in, his expression registering a combination of horror and regret at the sight. His next reaction is to back up slowly a few steps, taking Vimes with him.

"I do," murmurs Medes, rather much collapsing against Havaris for that gentle and, at least on her part, tearful reunion. And a kiss, which, of course, is cut short by the incoming gruesomeness. He backs away from her, and she leans a hand on a biobed to steady herself. "Oh... Prophets." Where her husband looks away, she cannot. She stares. Wide-eyed. Kasa's gaze locks briefly on her, and she stares back at him. He shrieks at Alarcon, and she stares. Havaris pukes on the floor (and her shoes) and she stares. And stares. And stares. Her face washes out to a cold, pale white, the dark circles under her eyes showing like the hollows in a skull, and her jaw drops. She is frozen, still, staring at the horrors before her as if she were Lot's Wife instead of Havaris's, turned to a pillar of salt.

Caeli turns as the whine of the transporter catches his attention, eyes widening at the sight placed before him. He says in Bolian, "Kasa!" before moving quickly toward the Commander, swallowing his revulsion and moving quickly to take a gentle yet firm hold on the Commander's upper arm and around the shoulders, gently urging him towards Haven. He says in Bolian, "It's alright, Kotek, you're with friends now. You're safe, safe here with us. Calm yourself." Zip hopes that perhaps hearing his given name in his native tongue will calm the crazed commander, but makes no assumptions.

The words come in Bolian, of course. "Don't move them! /DON'T THROW THEM AWAY/!" Kasa shrieks that towards Poole suddenly as the crewman moves to transport the corpses back out again. Caeli's advance isn't noticed until the other Bolian is touching him. In no condition to deal with any of this, the Commander kicks out with a boot at Caeli's knee and swings a fist wildly at the Lieutenant's jaw. "DON'T TOUCH ME! /NEVER TOUCH ME/!" If he were half-sane, that phaser on his hip might be a danger. As it stands, he's crawling up the wall in an effort to throw himself on Caeli, shrieking wildly in Bolian.

<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Caeli is struck twice in rapid succession, the combination of the two blows sending him sprawling back until he thuds against a biobed. Great Bird, insane people are strong! After a moment of getting his bearings, he hauls himself up to his feet and nods to Vimes, mouthing to the other security man 'set for low stun.' To Kasa, though, he says simply: "Stand down." There is no more patience in his tone, only professionalism.

Oh yes. Can we say sedative? Like stat? Loni pushes the hypo with Daxs meds in his hand and makes for Kasa. She saw the bodies. She knows what Kasa had to do to survive. But she's a Doctor. Later will come and when it does, she'll think back on Kasa's actions but right now, there is a crazy man, loose with a roomful of sick people. As she moves, her fingers move to her med pack, searching for the sedatives she knows are there. Her gaze leaves Kasa for a moment so she can look into her pack and find what she needs. Ah ha! One vial of sedative and one hypospray. With the precision that comes from long practice, she slaps the vial into the hypo and continues her movements toward the man. The hypo is tucked into her hand, its length running along the inside of her forearm, protected. As Kasa strikes and Zip flies, Loni moves in on the distracted Bolian. She hopes dearly that Kasa is off balance enough from his punch that she can get in and out without joining Zip in his flying maneuver. She moves in, remaining quiet, and ducks low to the deck to thrust her hand forward, hypo aimed at the Bolian's thigh, thumb on the trigger, ready to press should she feel the hypo make contact with his leg. Looks like she's done this before.

GAME: Haven spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Haven (claiming advantage) contests her Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Kasa continues to scrabble after Caeli, ignoring the 'order' from the Lieutenant in favor of his shrieking madness. When the hypo slams into his leg, the Bolian jerks a bit and drops rather immediately to the deck plates. That stuff is fast acting, after all. He ceases clawing after Caeli and instead drags himself across the floor to drape himself over one of the frozen corpses, wrapping his arms around the frigid torso. They're not disposing of his team like garbage. Before he passes out he hisses at the room in general, "We... waited... for... /you/." And then his bifurcated head slumps down with a quiet gurgle atop the frozen body of his suboordinate.

Darax takes a step forward, pushing himself off of the wall to greet the incoming sceince officer. What greets him in return stops him dead in his tracks. His eyes lock first on the bodies darting back and forth between each one without being able to tear them away. Each shift of his eyes simply brings him to a new body instead of carrying them away from the tableau. Until Kasa starts his screaming. That brings the other Bolian's attention up to the crazed Lieutenant, where it stays fixed. Staring. Without blinking. Without breathing. As the survivor covers his head and begins to wail, Gwi'on's mouth begins to work silently, mouthing something that could not possibly be Fed Standard. Blue lips move over and over again working through a litany learned in his childhood like Terran children learn fairy tales. Ancient prayers offered up to ancient gods who were little more than satellite names and legends when he was born. The sudden violence from Kasa snaps the Ensign back into the here and now. Without thinking, he starts towards the fracas to try and subdue the rampaging Bolian....but too late. With one foot forward, he watches the officer drop from the hypo and, on his last words before unconsciousness brings them together, and uncosciously closer to the horrifying scene.

Femke Nolte was not prepared. Her stomach holds, the tired eyes on Poole turn to the group that beam in. A lean, brown hand curls over her mouth. She shuts up her flesh. Femke stares at Kasa. Just stares. The bodies, the ranting man. Takes a step backwards. There is something that rings true enough to frighten her in his ranting. She has been witness to people who have been mauled by bears, and to many a bloody kochek matchup. This. is different. Here, the bear is inside the house. Here, the deep soil, the air and blood of her home is turned monstrous. She shuts wet eyes. She drops her hands to her sides. And the ensign stands at attention, because her heart is leaping, and that is the only thing she can think to do. And cries, in silence. Cheeks get strained and sticky. Her whole insides wretching and scared. Attention, hands to the side, is a good position to grab one's phaser. She does so, aiming for the bogey, just in case. Her whole body is shaking, though. It's a good thing she doesn't have to fire. Her eyes keep pouring.

The sight of the other away team's fate is one that causes Ensign Vimes to shudder. Taking a deep breath, he tries everything he can to not join Lieutenant Havaris on the deck to blow chunks. When Kasa flips out at attacks Caeli, he immediately tenses, still bracing himself against Javits for balance as the engineer takes a step back. Nodding at his superior's prompt, Vimes still has his hand under the parka he's been wearing for the past four days. Flicking the switch on the smaller of his two phasers, he whips it out in a quick manner and keeps it pointed at the now subdued Bolian.

Sharei reaches for the airhypo, eager to have relief from the hot magma slowly pouring over the inside of his skull. But then, Kasa appears. The force of his psychosis sends the Betazoid to his knees, eyes wide and staring as his nosebleed starts afresh. "Loneee," he rasps, fumbling with the airhypo. But then, Loni's not there. She's dealing with the psycho reject from the set of 'Alive'. Spasms rack his body as he tries once, twice, thrice to get the airhypo positioned properly. Finally, he manages to get it jammed under his chin and triggered. He leans heavily against a wall, watching the unfolding scene with undisguised horror written on his features. He looks somewhere, _anywhere_ besides the corpses. The people he had been sent to help save.

Albertz looks up from his patient to see what all the commotion is. Screaming, throwing up, yelling...just what in blazes is going on? Eyes grow wide as saucers as his gaze follows every other one in the room to the awful sight on the transporter pad. A sharp intake of breath followed by a ragged sigh, he snatches his tricorder off his belt and runs it over the unconscious ensign, his eye locked on the devices readout but not really reading at all. Hamish mutters something to himself over and over, the exact words obscured by the din of the room and an unintelligible accent thick with stress.

Some of the medstaff move in to drag Kasa away from the corpses, though the locking of his unconscious arms makes that difficult. Eventually they manage to pull him free, the freezedried corpse rocking from side to side once the weight is removed, its elbow joint releasing a sickening crack before slumping to the deck to drip melted hore in place of blood. They get him on a biobed and then move in to bag up the corpses for stasis. There will be questions. Lots of questions. The rest of the walking wounded are likewise settled down for treatment and Havaris is helped to his feet with the assurance that his vomit won't be a cause for concern and that he shouldn't worry about it. These things happen. In the end, the Thomas Paine does not call to the Merimac for aid in transport.

They call for a Ship's Counselor.