USS Scoperta
Post 89

Zantor walked over to a vacant operating table and took a look at
the equitment. HE picked up the scanner and scalple, feeling the
cold metal quickly form in his hand as if it had always belonginged.
he felt a kinship with knives, somehow. they had a great connection
in the dark blur within his mind, he knew. But he loved their smooth
surfaces, sharp edges, deadly looks, even if this one was used for
healing. THat's why he really got into the medical profession. He
had studied many things while in captivity, between the experiments,
and he had studied medical techniques of the twentith century very
heavily. While in medical school, he figured out ways to incoperate
those techiques with current medical techonlogy. Infact that was one
of the things that sped his graduation so rapidly. His instructors
found that he had a natural nack with healing and with saving, as
well as with killing and maiming. He quickly was able to indentify
the problem and work tirelessly untill it was solved.
Once at the academy, he was pulling a shift in the pediatric care
unit and a school-shuttle came in through the emergency room. He
immediately lent his care and knowlage, even though he hadn't even
taken any surgery classes yet. Zantor saved atleast 20 children that
day, rooting out the problems, solving them, and calming the
children down so they could recieve treatment. He always had a nack
for them.
Infact, he constantly thought of one child. One child who's name was
solid, but who's purpose and point was vauge. His only link to his
Zantor walked over to the computer and called up his security
"Computer, search federation databaces for the name 'Mariah Zantor'"
He said as he sat down in the chair.
After a few minutes the computer came up with nothing and Zantor
sighed, not for the first time in his search. He didn't know what
the name ment, but he knew that it had some significance to his
past, or future, or what ever.
Zantor shrugged, not knowing what to do so he slowly walked over to
a man with a broken nose
"Hi, Doc."
Zantor smiled "I'm not a doctor, Sir. I'm just an Ensign with a
Doctor's Degree from the Academy"
"Well, I guess that makes you a doctor, ehy?"
Zantor smiled at the man and took a look at his file. "It says here
you met with accident on the holodeck. Broken nose with crainail
The man nodded and coughed viloently, almost screaching in agony.
Zantor quickly held the man down and looked at the scans. "Where's
the pain?"
The man rose his head to the center of his scull, right on top.
Zantor looked quickly and closed his eyes, placing his hand on the
top of the man's forehead. A quick mental scan told him what he
needed to know.
"Oh..." Zantor wispered. The crewman looked at him with horror.
Zantor just smiled warmly. "It's nothing, the pain should subside
shortly." Zantor said as he pressed a hypo to the man's arm. The man
sighed with the drugs in his bloodstream and slipped into darkness.
Zantor quickly reached over for the regenerator and focused it to
the left side of his head Just as he figured... Compression to the
top of the head. The nose wasn't set right and a blood clot was
forming at the center of his scull.
Zantor quickly took the demeral regenerator and laser scalple and
reached over to the head of the unconscious man. (oh my lord, did i
spell that right??? ) He rose the scalple to a certian spot and
activated it, watching as the beam cut through the skin cleanly and
releaved the pressure. He activated the dermal regenerator and
repaired the mini-fractures within the scull, removing the bloodclot
to go on it's way.
A quick procedure, very clean and tighty, with very effective
Unfortiantly, it caught the attention of one of the doctor
lieutenants who walked over to him.
"Ensign! What are you doing?!"
"Sir, The man was suffering from minifractures and a bloodclot
forming in the center of the brain. The Nose was set improperly
which caused the friction and unsafe levels of stres on the bones. I
simply repaired it."
"Where is that in his records! Where did you get authorization for
that procedure?"
Zantor handed him the scanner with his results and shrugged. "I
didn't, but I'm a healer. The man was in pain. It was a simple,
nonthreatening correction to his problem, and his pain."
The Doctor looked up at Zantor.
"Look, Ensign. We wait for authroization to do anything in this
sickbay. I'm sure the chief wouldn't take too kindly of you killing
this man."
"He was in no danger at all, sir. A small incision to relieve the
pressure and allow for the bone to regrow in place. The bloodclot
soon broke up under the true blood flow and when he wakes up, he'll
feel like a new man."
The lieutenant just shook his head and said. "Look, Ensign. Mind
your place here."
Zantor just nodded, Not liking the rank of Ensign.
"Carry on!" The lieutnant said as he walked past. Zantor watched him
go before turning and looking down at his patient. The crewman
looked up at him.
"How do you feel, crewman?"
The crewman reached the top of his head and smiled. "The pain is
gone. I feel great!"
Zantor smiled and nodded. "Good. Now you take it easy on those
klingon training programs. NO use in getting you any more hurt then
you need to be."
The man smiled as Zantor walked over to the computer post and
started goijng through the directory of personnell.

Ensign Roka Zantor