Brainscan
Posted on Wed Nov 19th, 2025 @ 5:48am by Chief Warrant Officer Karzen Son of Arjune, Son of Ragan MD, MPH & Lieutenant Kesden Lokn
2,450 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
A New Dawn
Location: Quark's: Holosuite/Ada Lovelace: Infirmary
Timeline: Current
Quark's: Holosuite
Karzen entered the holosuite he'd rented from the Ferengi barman. He entered his personal training program, one that he'd only had limited opportunity to use. Being mostly assigned to the frontier, he hadn't had much access to holo-technology. He'd most practiced martial arts forms that he could do by himself, and when he could find people to train with, he'd train with a partner or even teach a class. The holoprogram had been a gift from his son, Aharon. The boy knew his father could find people to practice N'Deirek (a Romulan martial art similar to Terran Jiujitsu) but that practicing full contact Komerek (a nastier form of N'Deirek that involved nerve strikes and bone and joint breaking) was problematic. He created the program to allow Karzen to really cut loose.
Karzen centered himself and then began his workout with a Mok'bara routine. The Taijiquan-like martial art was a good warm up for him. He controlled and coordinated his movement and his breathing into a steady flow from stance to stance, movement to movement.
After a time, Karzen smoothly switched to Suus Mahna, a Vulcan martial art. Before long he was blending both arts seemlessly.
When he felt warmed up, Karzen did a short series of stretching routines, before summoning a holographic opponent. Klingon and his opponent began with the practice of N'Deirek. After Karzen felt he was ready, they began training in Komerek. While Karzen might have wanted to see what it was like to spar in Komerek with the safeties off, he was no fool. A serious injury could be permanent and that would prevent him from exploring his new career. So the safeties were on. In some ways, that made the match more challenging. While Karzen had to actually apply the moves and strike the nerves and break joints and bones of his holo-opponent, his opponent could score points even though he was stopping short of actually doing these things to Karzen.
Ultimately, Karzen won the match, but did not let himself think that made him some kind of martial arts superstar. The only scores that mattered out of the training room were win and lose. His opponent had scored a number of what could have been debilitating moves on Karzen and he would be working to improve his defenses against such attacks going forward. But, all in all, it was a good day.
After cooling down with a stretching routine, Karzen packed up, took his program back and made sure to wipe it from the system so the Ferengi didn't try to steal it and sell it. Then he went to the quarters he was renting on DS9. There, Karzen showered and put on fresh clothing and headed over to where the Ada Lovelace was docked. Starfleet was supposed to deliver his medical supplies and he wanted to meet them rather than have them leave the supplies outside of the ship to be taken by some scavenger.
Ada Lovelace: Infirmary
Karzen met the delivery person and, after some discussion (and coersion), Karzen got them to help him bring everything to the infirmary. When they were done, the boatswain's mate from operations went on his way, leaving Karzen to inventory the delivered items, stock what he wanted at his fingertips, and stow in the supply closet whatever he didn't.
The Klingon physician worked efficiently, but even so, most of the day had gone by before he had everything inventoried, stocked his infirmary, and stored everything else in the supply closet. Karzen took a moment to admire his work. Satisfied with the results, he considered what he would do next. Then the old Klingon frowned. Karzen was half Romulan and Romulans had hearing that was almost as good as Vulcans, as well a similar sense of smell. Someone else was on the ship and approaching the Infirmary. It seemed he might have perform the duties of Chief Physician before they even left on patrol.
"I will do no harm or injustice to them..." Karzen muttered. It was a phrase from the Hippocratic Oath. "If you're hurt, injured, wounded, sick, ill, diseased, or just lonely, you're not going to get any less so standing around in the corridor," Karzen called out in a gravelly, feral gowl that was at the same time loud and booming.
The gravelly voice carried through the corridor before the door had even finished cycling open. Kesden paused a beat, letting the echo fade before stepping inside, hands clasped loosely behind his back. “You have an efficient sense for arrivals, Doctor,” he said, tone even but cordial. “Lieutenant Kesden Lokn, First Officer. I wanted to welcome you aboard before we get underway.”
He hesitated briefly, then added, “For your records, there’s an implanted psionic inhibitor: Betazoid neural interface, stable calibration. Medical clearance should already be in the system, but I prefer transparency when it involves the brain.” A faint hint of humor touched his voice. “Otherwise, I’m in good working order. Loneliness optional.”
He nodded toward the neatly arranged instruments. “Looks like the infirmary’s in capable hands,” he said quietly, then waited, giving the Klingon space to reply.
"Lieutenant," Karzen said. "I'm just over a century old. I spent thirty years as a fighter pilot for the Nyberrite Alliance, a portion of that time in leadership positions, all of that time in active combat zones. I've been a physician for just shy of half a century. I've run clinics on many Federation colonies. I spent most of my near half century working on colonies on the Federation's borders with the Cardassian Union. I worked those colonies, including the ones now in the DMZ, throughout the Cardassian Border Wars, the entire two odd decades of them, starting with nearly being killed at the Setlik III Massacre in 2346. I worked the DMZ before it was the DMZ, and during, and after the Maquis resistance movement, the Federation-Klingon War, and the Dominion War. If I can't provide 'capable hands' to run your little infirmary here, then it is time for me to retire." Karzen pointed to one of the medbeds. "Lay down, Lieutenent. Maquis medical recordkeeping is spotting at best. I need to start from scratch. And while you're at it, tell me more about your implant, starting with why you have it and how long you've had it." Karzen's voice and demeanor softened a bit. "I'm your physician, Lieutenant. What you tell me remains with me, though I suppose our captain will expect me to go to her if your ability to do your duty is negatively impacted. Regardless, you have and can count on my discretion. You have my word of honor, in the name of Hippocrates and the Great Bird of the Galaxy." Karzen grinned. "If it makes you feel better, I'll throw in the Elements and Kahless the Unforgettable, lest he be forgotten."
Kesden regarded the doctor evenly, letting the stream of credentials and history settle before he spoke. When Karzen finally paused, Kesden inclined his head slightly—a respectful acknowledgment, not a challenge. “Understood, Doctor,” he said quietly, with a slight smile. “I don’t question your experience.” He moved toward the medbed, his tone remaining steady. “The implant was installed when I was a child on Betazed. Early psionic instability; too much neural activity for my age. It regulates those pathways, keeps my telepathic field within functional range.”
A pause, then his gaze met Karzen’s. "It was damaged during the Dominion occupation," he said evenly. "The scarring you’ll see on the scans is permanent. Whatever they forced my brain through, it burned out several psionic pathways and left the inhibitor compensating for more than it was designed to handle." He rested a hand lightly on the bed’s edge, composed but candid. "I’ve adapted to it. The implant keeps everything stable, but it needs periodic calibration. Removing or disconnecting it for too long would still trigger neural overload. That part hasn’t changed." His tone lowered slightly, not defensive but resolute. "That’s what you need for your medical file. The rest…was sealed by Starfleet Intelligence. Not by me."
After a brief beat, a faint glimmer of dry humor softened his voice. "So…run whatever scans you need, Doctor. Just don’t disable anything. I prefer the implant stay right where it is." Beneath the quiet ease, a familiar tension coiled in his chest; the instinctive unease of being examined, of letting someone close to the one part of him forever tied to Cardassian hands. He pushed it down, the way he always did, until only calm remained.
Karzen had a pretty good idea who had 'tampered' with his patient's implants, and he knew they couldn't have done anything good to it. "I won't be tampering with you or your implant and, except in emergencies, I won't be doing anything to you without your consent. I'm going to run some scans to get a basic understanding of your brain and the implant. I'm going to map the schematics of the implant as it is now so I can compare it to the factory model. I assume if it wasn't working, you'd have complaints. I just want to make sure it will continue to work."
When Karzen finished, Kesden inclined his head slightly. "Understood. And I appreciate your professionalism, Doctor. Consent matters," he said evenly. He settled onto the medbed, posture relaxed but deliberate, his hands then settled loosely at his sides. “Go ahead when you’re ready, Doctor. I’ll stay still.”
Karzen nodded. "Lie still for a second," the old Klingon said. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a device clearly meant to go on Kesdens forehead. "I'm just going to place this on your forehead. It will adhere to you for the duration of the scan and then easily come off, no muss, no fuss." Karzen kept his voice calm and even to try and keep Kesden relaxed. He caught that when Kesden had said the implant was damaged during the Dominion occupation, he'd also said 'whatever they forced my brain to do....' By 'they', Karzen assumed Kesden had meant the Dominion and the Cardassians, and that Kesden had not been a willing participant in the process. That being the case, laying down on a biobed while an 'alien' probed his brain probably wasn't the most comfortable experience for the Betazoid. "It will work with the biobed to scan your brain and the implant. I'm going to do just enough to get the information I need. The scan will focus on the implant and the areas of your brain it interacts with, and the areas of the brain related to your telepathic and empathic abilities. Just try to relax."
Karzen watched his screens and panels and readouts as the scan commenced, and took notes for later review.
"Almost done," Karzen said. "I see the scarring. There is some neurogenesis in that area, but at the moment, I agree with your previous physicians that the scarring is permanent. I assume you've been examined by neurologists and neurosurgeons before. If the implant is working, your health and safety and the health and safety of the crew are all unaffected, I am comfortable with the current status quo. If this changes, or your quality of life is negatively impacted, we can reconsider sending you to a specialist. I'd probably consult with a Betazoid neurologist or neurosurgeon, obviously one who deals with this type of issue regularly. But again, if things are fine the way they are, there is no need for that at this time."
Kesden lay still as instructed, eyes following the device only long enough to understand what was happening before he forced himself to look toward the ceiling instead. The adhesive’s cool touch against his forehead sent a brief flicker of tension down his spine, but he kept his breathing steady. Karzen’s tone was calming; steady, even, and nonthreatening. It gave Kesden something to hold on to as the biobed hummed beneath him.
He didn’t speak during the scan. Silence was easier than letting thoughts slip out, easier than addressing the instinctive prickle of unease that always came with anyone analyzing his brain. He focused instead on the ambient sounds: the soft beeps, the rhythmic pulse of the biobed, the faint scrape of Karzen’s stylus as the doctor took notes.
When Karzen finally said, “almost done,” Kesden’s shoulders loosened by a fraction.
At the doctor’s assessment, he inclined his head slightly; not quite a nod, but an acknowledgment.
"I’ve seen specialists before," he confirmed quietly. "Mostly out of necessity, not preference." A pause, thin but genuine. "Your conclusions match theirs... And if something does shift, headaches, overstimulation, anything out of the ordinary, I’ll report it. Directly.”
He hesitated, then added with a measured sincerity, "Thank you, Doctor. You handled that with more care than most." The words weren’t easy, but they were honest. And for someone like Kesden, that carried weight.
"Hmph," Karzen said. "Then more physicians need to be like me, clearly. Oh, and I'm adding a vitamin and mineral supplement to your diet. Like most of the Maquis, you got used to poor diet choices because you had no choice. Starfleet is stocking your ship with some fresh food and plenty of replicator matter. Eat better. I'll send you a list of things you need to eat more of and how much when eating fresh food, and I'll set your replicator code to automatically add the vitamins and minerals to your replicated food no matter what you order. And I'll program the replicator to give you a multivitamin with your breakfast. It was a pleasure to meet you and so on and so forth and whatever other pleasantries I'm expected to say that with get you out of my infirmary before someone overhears you thanking me for being nice and ruins my image."
Kesden sat up as the device released, giving a small, acknowledging nod. "I’ll follow the regimen," he said simply. "Fresh food won’t be a problem." He slid off the biobed, smoothing his shirt out of habit. "I’ll read the list. And I won’t argue with the replicator modifications."
A brief pause, I like this guy, then a quiet thread of dry humor. "Your reputation is safe. No one will hear I thanked you." He inclined his head once more. "Thank you for the exam, Doctor." With that, he stepped out of the infirmary.
Karzen was already back to going over Kesden's scans. It wasn't that he didn't realize Kesden had left. He just didn't give a damn.
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