Poking and Prodding, Part I

Posted on Fri Aug 16th, 2024 @ 5:20pm by Captain Björn Kodak

Mission: Mean Green Queen
Location: Captain's Quarters
Timeline: Mission Day 0 at 1830

[Captain's Quarters]
[MD 0: 1830]

Once the doors to his quarters had swooshed closed, Kodak-as-a-Gorn let his masks fall. Up there on the Bridge and in the hallways after, he'd had to appear every bit the strong, confident, and cunning Captain his crew looked to. But here, in the privacy of the quarters he shared with Andrew -- during a few stolen moments before meeting up with Drol again -- he could just be Björn. And right now, Björn was more worried than he'd been in a very long time.

Feathery thought-tendrils of Timmoz in the surgical suite reached for inner-Björn, mixing with a maelstrom of worry that First Maje Subrek and the Kordra-Lisrit were on their tail. Both sat heavy in his mind, though Timmoz was the more immediate concern. While Subrek might be after them -- his unexpectedly advanced ship a definite match for the Sojourner -- it would take the Maje time to talk to the Governor and piece together all that had happened. Then Subrek would have to find their warp trail outside the Starbirth Oasis, assuming it hadn't gone cold by the time the Kordra-Lisrit arrived outside the nebula again. All of which added up to mean they had some time, at least as far as the Kazon threat was concerned.

But on the Timmoz front though? Maybe not so much. Dr. Wang had tried to reassure him that, while the Orion was indeed in critical condition, he and his medical staff were doing all they could to bring him back from the brink. Even now, after an hour of briefing Oliveria on the Bridge and putting the Sojourner on course out of that damned stellar nursery, Timmoz was reportedly still very much battling for his life. The part of the Captain's brain that reacted to trauma with diffusing humor imagined the Orion shooting Death itself with a disruptor, trying to disintegrate the reaper's bony head with repeated point-blank shots. The mental imagery, however, had the opposite effect and only made Kodak worry more.

Gjörn -- as he thought of himself while in Gorn form -- looked around the shared quarters for signs of Andrew but did not immediately see him. The thought of falling into his baby bear's arms was so damned alluring but, after checking the bedroom and peeking into the bathroom, it seemed the civilian biologist wasn't home. Gjörn could ask the computer where his paramour was but he likely knew the answer already: Andrew would be down in the biology lab, probably giving him space to decompress without worrying about putting on a show of strength. Not that Gjörn had to put one on, of course: the burly bear biologist was more than understanding and compassionate when it came to discussing feelings. But the Chameloid, himself, wasn't always the best at sharing them.

"Computer," rasped Gjörn, "send a message to Andrew Munro. Let him know I'm going to stop in to see him on my way to meet up with Drol for a few drinks." With an idle claw, the Gorn scratched at his forehead. "And...tell him I love him?" Upended into a question, he wondered if the computer would retort a request for confirmation of such but it did not come. Maybe the computer was getting smarter as part of the incremental upgrades being done. Shit, he sighed, remembering the upcoming LCARS update. Another thing to worry about, he thought to himself, his irritation level rising. Suddenly drinks with Drol seemed even more appealing as they would go far in helping him to forget his worries...at least until he sobered up again. But that, too, was for future-him.

Mind overly full, the reptilian moved through the bedroom with absolutely zero grace, his tail thwacking a vase as he passed by; it fell but did not break, thankfully. It remained on the floor, however, as Gjörn bee-lined for the shower unit, not stopping to pick it up. His mind was singularly focused on washing the dirt and grime of Hukatuse off of him. That, he mused, and getting back into my normal form. Assuming my body cooperates, he thought. "I'm so tired of having this tail,” the Captain groused after accidentally thumping said tail against the bathroom door jam and hissing at himself with pain.

If you went by Wang's earlier enthusiasm for Chameloid morphological processes, being able to grow said tail was something to marvel at. But what had the doctor said about Stafleet's limited understanding of his morphology? Poking and prodding, he recalled, thoughts casting back to his Academy days. Back then, with the Changeling threat ever looming, Starfleet had begged to study his makeup in hopes of finding similarities to the Founders -- similarities that could be used to develop anti-Changeling technology. He'd consented at the time of course -- who wouldn't -- but the months of medical and biological testing hard worn on him hard. And even after all that testing -- after enduring so much discomfort on Starfleet's behalf -- the Chameloid had still been looked at with suspicion and derision by his fellow cadets and Academy staff.

Stepping into the shower, the Gorn reached past the sonic controls to turn the old-style knobs to their perfect positions. Having opted for a water-based shower as well sonic -- Captain's prerogative when your ship was brand new -- the lumbering reptile wedged himself into the stall and sighed as the comfortably-heated water hit his scales. Looking down at his clothing -- which was actually just reshaped skin -- he could see rivulets of water making their way through the nooks and crannies of his thoroughly grimy dermis. Gjörn spent several long moments just watching the little streams, focusing on their paths down his body as the shower continued to stream and steam. He found the hyper focus on the water's movements to be calming, which was helpful in gearing himself up for the physical sensations to come.

Nodding to himself with a finality of thought, he initiated the change. With a shudder born of latent injuries still causing some discomfort, the Gorn's body began to distort, shrinking under the four-corner streams of water hitting him. His form did not melt into the ripples and flows of a Changeling, though: he was a Chameloid. While both were shapeshifting species, he understood his own biology to be more akin to molecular rearranging than becoming goo that could mimic anything. As such, his "clothing" became a sort of smoothed-over matte as his scales softened and smoothed out as well, his entirety looking formless beyond the general shape of a bipedal humanoid. But then, with a mental push, the next stage of the change began and soon Björn stood beneath the pounding water, the rivulets flowing down and through a forest of chest hair rather than his former breastplate of scales.

As his body successfully made the transition, though, Björn's thoughts very much dwelled on Wang's words. The act of changing his form successfully would be something the doctor would want to know about for sure given the injuries he'd come back from Hukatuse with. But the more he thought about reporting on his biology to Wang, the more his thoughts cast themselves back to all that poking and prodding the doctor'd brought to mind. And suddenly, Björn's ever-unchanging golden eyes looked through the shower wall and back in time, following his thoughts backwards from the present as if they were a way-finding tether. He pulled himself along the cord of his memories, curious why they'd lead him so far into the past, and then felt himself "arrive" at the moments on his mind.

Cadet Kodak sat on a bench in one of the Academy's bio labs. The quiet hum of the place was punctuated by the occasional chirps and gurgles from various machines and experiments running in the lab. His cat-like eyes flicked to the door as someone came through holding a tray of arrayed instruments: some he recognized from previous sessions while others were new. The standout, however, was a phaser.

"Ready to be poked and prodded?" Doctor Clark asked, pre-empting the thought. The Starfleet scientist assigned to study Kodak looked almost giddy as he approached. "I've so been looking forward to getting my hands on you again, Mr. Kodak. I've got some great new ideas to test on you!"

And that's when Björn realized where -- when -- his thoughts had taken him.

It was the night the lights had gone out in San Francisco -- the night the Changelings had taken Earth.

Or at least, that's what everyone believed at the time. And the nightmare of that night was just about to begin, though there'd been a light in it too. But Doctor Clark was waiting for an answer and the incredibly nervous cadet -- oblivious now to his future self and how his life would play out -- gulped and nodded.

"I'm ready, Sir," 18 year old Kodak rasped, steeling himself against the discomfort he knew was to come.

"Good then," the scientist nodded with a half-grin. "With your help, we can develop ways to revert shapeshifters back to their natural forms. Handy, I think, given the current threats we face. Just uh..." Doctor Clark's grin became toothier as he picked up the phaser, "just tell me how much this hurts, alright?"

TO BE CONTINUED...

=/\= A solo post by... =/\=

Captain Björn Kodak
Commanding Officer
USS Sojourner

and

Cadet Björn Kodak
Starfleet Academy