Better Living Through Biochemistry

Posted on Tue Jun 11th, 2024 @ 5:06am by Lieutenant Xex Wang & Ensign Mei Ratthi
Edited on on Sat Sep 7th, 2024 @ 7:13pm

Mission: Mean Green Queen
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: Mission Day 0 at 0330

[Sickbay]
[Processing Suite]
[1 day after 'the Battle']
[0330]

“Doctah,” the rounded, accented tones were just enough to impinge on Xex's concentration, but not quite enough to garner his attention. He'd co-oped nearly the entire processing suite, its various monitors running simulations and adding data to a dismally small pool as they processed Timmoz's tissue samples and generated potential regrowth specemins. Xex's expression shifted almost constantly between frustration and determination, as though the two were angels sat on his shoulders, tug-of-warring him back and forth between them. Finding voice prompts to be distracting, he was manually inputting several new parameters into the sample processors, hoping that if they looked at the lung sample from another angle, in a different light, something would come clear.

“Doctah,” the voice said again, this time more insistently. A big hand cupped his elbow, bent his arm, and wrapped his fingers around a warm mug. “If you ain't goin' to bed, maybe at least drink somethin'?”

Xex finally tore his eyes away from the information before him, blinking down at the steaming mug in his hand. It seemed to contain some sort of very dark, hot liquid. The steam rising from it smelled bitter, but not altogether unpleasant. He only managed to stop himself drinking it with the firmest of self-control-- his most recent burnt tongue was a fresh memory. He looked up from the drink to its deliverer, who was eyeing him with obvious concern. “I told you, Gatien, I do not require rest at this time. I do require Starfleet medical to have better information about Orions,” he added, almost growling.

Gatien smothered a smile at the doctor's single-minded concentration, his concern not at all allayed. It seemed like Xex had been functioning far too long. Certainly, he'd been in here for at least two shift changes. Nevertheless, Gatien did have to admit that the doctor displayed none of the signs of fatigue he would normally associate with such a prolonged period of consciousness and concentration. Perhaps his fears really were unfounded. And perhaps the doctor was going to fall face first into a desk when Gatien turned his back. “Next time I'm in th'august presence o' th'medical board, I'll let dem know,” he said, trying to keep the amusement out of his tone, and only partially succeeding. “Th'sample from what they took out ain't givin' you nuttin'?” he asked with interest, turning his attention to the screen that currently held the doctor's gaze.

“Well, it's giving us something,” Xex said, bringing the mug to his lips, feeling the heat from its rim, grimacing, and lowering it again without drinking. “But without some kind of framework to compare it to and fit it into, it's just not enough information. We could certainly synthesize a part of a lung-- specifically the part we still have alive and intact-- but a part of a lung is about as much use as no lung at all. We cannot seem to mesh the biosynthesized portions with the portions that actually came from Timmoz-- which doesn't bode well for their compatibility with his native systems.” Abandoning the mug to a convenient surface, Xex stepped forward and tapped a few commands into the terminal, tweaking the computer's search algorithm for what felt like the thousandth time.

“We just haven't seen these biological properties before,” he continued, more to himself than Gatien, “and if we don't get it right, if we put in something that's incompatible with Timmoz's pulmonary system...” Xex left the sentence hanging, worry gnawing at the edges of his tone. He tapped firmly on the 'run' command and the computer chimed its acceptance, beginning a new set of gene sequences and associated simulations. “I just wish we had more data,,” he said, stepping back, the frustration now uppermost in his tone, “but I'm afraid Orions just aren't forthcoming about their own medical practices. And the Starfleet sample size is practically nonexistent, and statistically useless. The computer's library is woefully insufficient.”

Gatien lifted a dark eyebrow at the frankly enormous display of data wrapping all the way around the processing suite. If that wasn't enough... “'ave you talked ta Lieutenant Oliveria?” he asked, unconscious-- or uncaring-- of the nonsequitor.

If nothing else, the abrupt change of subject managed to pull Xex from his intense concentration and he stepped back, blinking at the nurse. “Lieutenant O-- Gatien, this isn't an engineering problem.”

Gatien's generous mouth pressed into a thin line, although it was difficult to tell whether he was suppressing annoyance or amusement. “I disagree, but that's not actually what I was talkin' about. Lieutenant Oliveria lives wit' Timmoz. Maybe he has some insight?”

“I don't think simply sharing space with a person is going to give the sort of insight we need, unfortunately. Unless the chief engineer has deconstructed parts of Timmoz on a cellular level, I suspect his input would be more behavioral than genetic. If this were an anthropological problem maybe...” Xex trailed off then, a faraway look in his gray eyes. “But this isn't an anthropological problem,” he said then, his voice beginning to firm, “this is a biochemical problem. A biochemical problem!” Excitement made him almost squeak with delight, “Of course, it's a biochemical problem. Why haven't I been speaking to a biochemist?”

Gatien blinked, unsure what exactly had caused the doctor's shift from frustration to enthusiasm, but he was loathe to interrupt, so he simply made noises of agreement while Xex stepped forward, swiped up the mug, knocked back half of the liquid in one long pull without now seeming to notice its temperature, and then activated his commbadge.

Gatien's expression shifted from polite interest to horror and he reached out a hand before Xex could begin the transmission. “Doctah,” he hissed, “it's not even zero-four-hundred.”

Xex waved him off, brief annoyance touching his silvery features. “Timmoz does not have time to wait for sensible hours.” He tapped the commbadge again, and began the transmission, “Wang to Ranaam,” Xex said, the excitement still making his tone bright and jittery.

There was a long pause in which Xex was tempted to try again, then a gravelly voice still thick with sleep answered: "Yes, Doctor? Can I help?"

Gatien looked skeptical, a lot like he was ready to run interference for the poor scientist who hadn't asked for this, but Xex barreled on, oblivious. "Yes, please, that would be wonderful," he said, altogether too brightly for the hour. "You see, we have a medical problem that the medical database isn't helping us with, and if we don't solve this problem then someone will die. I've just realized, though, that I'm looking in the wrong place for a solution. If pure medicine can't help us, the answer must be elsewhere. And I think that elsewhere just might be biochemistry. Will you be willing to come and help us?"

Another long pause followed, but her reply was less sleepy. And less gravelly. "Yes, I suppose? I could give it a try. I need a few minutes to get dressed, but I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

"Your most creative brain, please," Xex said and closed the connection, turning a frankly triumphant grin on Gatien. "See? You worry too much, Gatien."

Gatien made a noise halfway between a French snort and a gutter grunt, shot Xex a skeptical glance, and beat a hasty retreat. He'd already seen what happened when Xex brought in an expert, and while Ensign Ratthi had been willing, it had also not quite been the middle of the night when Xex had called her. However interested Lieutenant Ranaam sounded, he didn't want to be anywhere near the meeting of minds that was about to happen at this hour of the morning. He was certain there were nurse things that needed taking care of elsewhere, and disappeared back toward sickbay.

Xex seemed oblivious to the man's implied criticism, sipping at his mug as he turned back to the data the computer was still compiling for him. Dubious the results may have been, but they were still results. He had no doubt that any data was better than no data. He was just starting to sort some new genetic connections when the processing suite's doors swished open.

A tall Trill woman walked in, a PADD tucked under her arm, with a cup of coffee in her hand. She poked at the unruly blonde hair she'd tucked up into a messy bun, then smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of her immaculate uniform. It almost didn't seem like she'd been awakened at 0400 to answer a mysterious request, save for the way her jaw locked to hold back a yawn. "Doctor," she said smoothly and set her coffee mug on the table. "You needed to see me? Regarding a biochemical solution your medical database isn't equipped for?" A wry 'somehow' seemed to dangle at the end of that question.

Xex was either oblivious to, or studiously ignoring the subtext in the woman's greeting, turning to the sound of her voice, an eager expression on his silvery features. "Liazra!" he greeted her warmly, "Welcome! I see you've come equipped for battle." He nodded at her coffee, lifted his own steaming mug in salute, and tipped the mug to his lips. Hopefully it was a bog-standard stimulant. "I trust you were resting nicely until I interrupted you," he began cheerfully, apparently quite aware of the hour, and equally uncaring.

"I do apologize for that," Xex continued seriously, "but as I said to Gatien, we simply don't have time to wait for civilized hours." With a series of gestures, Xex placed the summary he'd been working on in the main display, with the woefully inadequate attempt at organ regrowth in the stasis field beneath it. "To summarize, we have had to remove one of Timmoz's lungs. We will need to replace it. So far, our efforts on that front have been.... disappointing. We have tissue samples from the injured lung we removed, but we've only be able to regenerate those portions we already had available. The pieces that had already succumbed to necrosis continue to present an issue, and even the pieces we've regrown do not do well in compatibility simulations; I'm not confident his body wouldn't reject anything we've managed to regenerate. I'm hoping what limited data we do have will present solutions to you that are not obvious to me; Timmoz cannot live in stasis with his holographic lung forever."

“Of course not,” Liazra said absently, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the various readouts and displays before her. “So. You have tissue that either decays or is incompatible, and an inability to produce more tissue to create a new lung to replace the old. Yes?”

Xex's expression was pained as she distilled their current situation down to those few words. He even began to correct her, "Well, actually," before realizing that in fact, that was essentially their current circumstances. Blowing out a long sigh of air, he settled for, "yes."

“Right.” She drank her coffee and then drummed her fingers on the edge of the table. “Right. So. What we ultimately need to do is find a way to grow enough new tissue that we have a fully functioning organ that can be implanted. But as we don’t currently have the means to do so, we’ll need to come up with an artificial mechanism to replace the holographic setup currently in place. Not an easy task, given the vascular complexities in any respiratory system, Orions notwithstanding. And we have a bit of a deadline, since Lieutenant Timmoz’s condition will deteriorate the longer he’s in this condition, yes?” Liazra glanced up at Xex, a questioning eyebrow raised like she was daring him to contradict her. Given her faint smile, however, it seemed more like she was warming to the challenge.

Xex blinked at the woman, something she'd sad clearly catching him off-guard. "An artificial mechanism?" he repeated stupidly. "No," he said, brow furrowing with disagreement, "no, just as the holographic replacement will not do in the long term-- or indeed once he comes out of stasis-- an artificial replacement will not suffice." Taking a deep breath as though to fortify himself, he conceded, "But yes, he cannot remain in his current state indefinitely-- or indeed for long. What Gwenwyn and the LMH have put in place is temporary at the very best."

She held up a hand to cut him off. “I’m not making myself clear. By ‘artificial mechanism’, I don’t mean ‘machine’. I’ll show you what I’m thinking of.” She tapped away on the nearest display for what felt to Xex like forever, but that was probably just his antsy imagination at work. Liazra was focused entirely on her work, like she’d forgotten he was even there. She pulled up data from both the medical and science databases as she constructed a series of images that Xex couldn’t parse- at least not from his angle. All he could do was wait until she finally finished tapping and pulled the images up so the holographic display could render them at eye level.

Xex drew breath, obviously about to jump in when Liazra continued, her confident tones deflating his lungs and forcing him back a step to better view the data and hear her explanation.

“So. What I mean by ‘artificial mechanism’ is this: the lieutenant needs something to bridge the gap between what the holographic lung can provide in the short term and the lung he needs to survive in the long run. What this is,” Liazra gestured up at the images then gestured again to pull apart the layers she’d constructed, “is two-part structure. The white is the base framework for an artificial lung. It would be made of some sort of monofilament fiber. Earth silk, or something like that." Xex's eyes widened as he began to understand the basis of her plan, his torso tilting forward with interest as she continued to explain, "It provides the structure for an aerating membrane that would serve as the lung tissue that will allow the lieutenant to, you know, breathe. We’d need to find some sort of tissue that’s compatible enough with the Orion system that his body won’t reject it out of hand, but we should be able to find something relatively quickly. The medical replicators are capable of creating a variety of basic tissues. Now. This would also be something of a temporary solution, and his oxygen absorption would not be as high as with a normal lung, so his activity level can’t be as high as normal. But I think he’d rather be forced to sit down more often than die, and it will buy us more time to find a way to find a permanent solution.”

Xex was uncharacteristically quiet for a long, tense moment. Liazra, who had looked away from the display to gauge his reaction, seemed about to say something, but he held up a finger, forestalling her. "Actually," he said carefully, as though afraid to scare off whatever thought had just occurred to him, "replicators won't even have to do the heavy lifting. We were unable to stimulate growth of a new lung because we did not have the framework," he stressed, using her exact wording, "but with a synthetic substructure..." He trailed off, and stepped up to the terminal he'd been using earlier, swiftly tapping in a series of commands. After nearly a minute of input, he threw the results of his work into the air: a progress bar of yet another simulation but this one, if his hopeful expression was anything to go by, might actually have the potential to yield useful outcomes.

Together, they watched the bar work its painfully slow way across, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the sample regrowth units, and the occasional slurp as one or the other of them sipped their coffee.

Finally, the computer chimed, and the results scrolled out in a series of datapoints and graphics, the summary resolving to one side of the main data. The computer's calm, dispassionate tones hit the main points, enumerating the overview of the simulation. As the soothing voice continued, Xex's expression, which had been expectant, began to glow with actual hope. By the time the computer had finished, he was grinning, and he clapped his hands together before grasping LIazra by the shoulders, "Yes! You see? You were exactly right. We needed a framework. Stars above," he continued, pulling her into a brief, fierce hug before releasing her again to gaze at the data, "you are a genius. If the actual functioning lung tissue is grown within a biosynthetic scaffold, then the interface with Timmoz's body should not present a problem... if we can get the enmeshing right."

Liazra straightened her uniform and took what might have been an unconscious step back. “That makes sense that it wouldn’t have formed a full organ without a guiding framework. Tissue like that doesn’t have a memory of what it was or a sense of what it should be. If it’s not guided, it’s just going to form in sheets or conform to the shape of whatever dish it’s in.” She paused and squinted at the projections as they slowly spun about, then glanced at the data scrolling along on her PADD. “I think the first thing we’ll need to do is figure out what exact shape we’ll need for the framework. Cells, organs, bodies. They’re always changing, always shaped a little differently from one day to the next. We should pull up the data from all the scans of Lieutenant Timmoz’s respiratory system that you have and add that to the information we’re getting from the holographic lung so we can get a more precise idea of the exact shape we’ll need. I think we’ll have a better idea of the material we’ll need for the scaffolding, as you called it.”

"Absolutely," Xex agreed, tossing off the last of his coffee and abandoning the mug to one side. A few gestures pulled up the data she was looking for, a comprehensive packet of scans from Timmoz's regular maintenance and preventative care, scans that included the injured lung, and a constantly scrolling read-out of the current holographic lung. In contrast to the press of emotions and duty when looking at the man himself, Xex was able to sort dispassionately through the data, organizing it for Liazra. "I've been over this what feels like a half-million times," he said with a grimace, "but certainly not with the idea of a synthetic interface in mind. I'm sure it will yield something much more productive with that underpinning."

Almost guiltily, he glanced over his shoulder, though his view of Timmoz, held in stasis in his biobed, was impossible to see through the pair of bulkheads separating the processing suite from the main treatment area of sickbay. More quietly, he added, "It had better. We cannot hold him indefinitely; the holographic lung is already failing."

Visibly shaking off the dour prediction, Xex shrugged his shoulders in rapid succession, wiggling his arms all the way out to his fingertips. "So, this is what we've managed so far-- please, keep the laughter to a minimum," he added with a self-deprecating halfsmile. Beckoning Liazra closer, he stepped up to the series of niches at the far end of the processing suite, seemingly completely unaware of her own desire for more personal space, already drawing forth the meager samples they'd managed to grow, in addition to the less-than-successful attempts, knowing full well they could be as illuminating as anything that looked 'correct'.

"I'll not laugh at you, Doctor, rest assured. I've worked with less. Now," she pulled up a new screen for information pulled from the biosciences lab, input a set of parameters, and hit 'start'. "Our next step is to find a suitable material. I mentioned Earth silk due several of its qualities, but that was only a first suggestion. I'm sure there will be plenty of others in the database. We only need to look."

"Indeed," Xex said as he watched the computer's list begin to compile. While it did so, he began to think, tapping at his chin with each blunt-tipped finger in turn. Musing, he said, "I will bow to your greater expertise in the biochemical makeup of a suitable material; I'm afraid my own expertise in this area is confined to those combinations we use most often in Federation space. However, a few come to mind: Acamarian bamboo for one, or possibly Caereish pine resin, if memory serves. The orientation of the carbon chains might just be close to something we're looking for-- or can replicate ourselves." As though these options triggered something in his brain, Xex was suddenly in motion, moving back to the console beside Liazra to pull up his own datasets and swipe them to Liazra's console, tagged for cross-referencing by the parameter search she was already performing.

"A resin might serve our purposes better, as they tend to hold shape more readily than monofilaments, even at such a fine degree as we'll need. But it does need to break down at a useful rate and not remain there overlong. We want the tissues to be able to hold their own shape over time, not become reliant on an artificial structure. I don't think that would do the lieutenant any good in the long run." Liazra drew a breath to speak again, then paused. Xex looked about to jump into the silence, but the look on her face, her dark eyes narrowed, it looked like she was compiling a list of possibilities, just like the computer. He let his breath out as she spoke again, "Speaking of trees, though, there is a particular type of cellulose from the palms on Kryagaris III. They grow in a windy, very dry region, and the cellulose has developed in a strand-like formation that allows for incredible flexibility to withstand the wind, but is also strong enough hold the tree's water reserves over a long period of time." She pulled up the information for Xex to see.

Almost immediately the doctor became engrossed in the info packet, skimming the pertinent structural and chemical properties. His lips moved soundlessly as he reached up and pulled certain pieces of the information to the side, tucking them in with the collated simulations and search parameters they'd already compiled. "And given Orions are at least still a large percent water, even if the rest of their biology seems to defy our known treatment algorithms," Xex agreed, but paused, frowning as the thought that had occurred to him earlier resurfaced. "I--" he paused, glanced again back toward the main sickbay area, and then back to Liazra, "Liazra, allow me to be blunt. I do not believe in false optimism, and we have to be realistic about what outcomes we can expect here. At this point, if we can return Timmoz's pulmonary efficiency to a level where he can function outside the stasis field, I will count us lucky. That is not to say," he held up a finger as though to forestall a question that hadn't been asked, "that we shouldn't try to generate something that will have no lasting effects, but I firmly believe this project will need full transparency, and now you have it."

“Of course. It’s not realistic to expect perfection, but I do try to aim for something just beyond the goal when I take on a project.” Liazra smiled at Xex before looking back at the myriad information screens, slowly flipping through them, scanning them one by one. “Our goal is Timmoz’s survival. I’m willing to put in the work to go beyond that if you are. But if we’re running out of time, we’d best get started. So. Shall we, then?”

Xex managed a grim halfsmile in response. "We shall," he said, and turned to the data.
A post by:

Lieutenant Xex Wang, MD
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant (JG) Liazra Ranaam (NPCed by Kim)
Biochemist