Aimee sat behind her desk with Dr. Harrison, Dr. Williams from neurology, and the EMH in front of her.  Aimee had a coffee in her hand, mostly to seek comfort in it rather than any need for a drink or caffeine.  “Okay, these are the smartest minds on this ship when it comes to medicine.  How do we shut down that part of the brain so our telepathic crew can function?”

“The cortical inhibitors are working to varying degrees,” the EMH reported.   There was something she liked about the cantankerous Mark 1 EMH so she had uploaded those subroutines onto the Mercy’s program. 

“That’s something,” Aimee said absently.   “Let’s keep them on observation for now.  We still really don’t know what’s going on.”

“I’m a Doctor not a nurse maid,” the EMH complained. 

“Well Doc, you are now.”

Later…

Doctor Harrison and Aimee were standing at Egrel’s side. He was calmer now, but he was clearly in distress.  “Counselor we think we have a more permanent solution to your predicament.  We’re going to open your head and place a shunt in your brain separating the telepathic part of your mind.  We think we have a shunt that will eventually dissolve over the course of a couple of weeks allowing you to regain your abilities.   Dr. Harrison is the more experienced surgeon and he will be performing the surgery while I assist.   Because it’s brain surgery you will be awake during the procedure.”

Roger knew the severity of the situation at hand. Things weren’t “getting better.” In fact, the opposite was true. It had been decided that separating a part of the brains of the telepaths, specifically Dr. Choi, would be the best course of action. All others had failed to relieve symptoms satisfactorily. He hated making these types of choices, but it was his job, and the best choice they had. He simply nodded and let Aimee explain that he’d be doing the actual surgical work. “Yes. I assure you I have done a few, and I am confident I know what I am doing.” He liked it, weird as that sounded, and thrilled in the challenge of it. “It should not affect your ability to do your job, and with luck, the visions and voices will subside. In the last one I did, the subject was able to regain full cognition inside of two weeks and was back in his command position in three. And you’re younger and in better health than he was.” “We can start as soon as you’re ready. If you need some time, I completely understand.” He looked back to Dr. MacDonald and Dr. Williams, to make sure they were in agreement. All three seemed to be at the ready, but of course, Dr. Choi should make the ultimate choice, he believed.

All the colour had drained from Egrel’s face as he listened to the suggested treatment for him to help deal with the telepathic attacks. He drew in a shaky breath, “As long as you are sure I can regain my abilities afterwards. I’d be driven mad without them.” He paused a for a beat, “More so than I am already.” He spoke with a wry tone.

Egrel looked like he was about to faint at the talk of him being awake during an operation. He gripped the arm of the chair he was sat in till his knuckles turned white. He stammered, “As.. As long as you are sure. And know what you are doing. I just… I don’t know.” He trailed off, fear flickered over his expression.

“I hate this for you,” Aimee said, “But there seems to be some damage occurring in your brain because of this psychic attack.  I understand why you would be hesitant, but you have three doctors all here telling you this is the best option.”

“If it is truly the best option, then let’s do it.” Egrel tried to reassure himself that they knew what they were doing and that this was truly the best option for him. Unbridled fear coursed through the Betazoid.

Roger was trying to be reassuring. “Dr. MacDonald and I have confidence you’ll be fine.” The literature said so. Between the three doctors, they would be able to control and address any symptoms Choi would have, and help him to regain skills over the next few weeks. 

“Let’s get started,” Aimee said with finality.  “There’s no need to prolong this.”

Roger just nodded, and set up the biobed for surgery. Truthfully?! He wasn’t as sure as he’d try to portray to Dr Choi-he HAD done the surgery successfully twice, but only twice, because it wasn’t a common one. One day, he’d have to ask Dr. Choi what it meant that he was likely more nervous than the man who lay before him. He got his equipment ready in a surgery suite. He came back out. “I am ready,” he said, and waited.  

Egrel stood and stepped towards Roger. During the preparation process, he was incredibly nervous and restless, running through all possible worst case scenarios in his head, made infinitely worse by the telepathic attacks. He gave a watery smile and nodded, “I am too. Well, as ready as I can be.”

Aimee led Egrel into the surgical suite.  She helped him onto the bio bed, “As Doctor Harrison works I will be presenting you various stimuli  and quizzing you.  You won’t feel anything.”

Roger took a deep inhale, and then nodded. “Let’s go.” He set up the surgical bed-a slightly different setup from the previous biobed and then turned on a shield that would allow Dr. Choi to hear Dr. Macdonald, but wouldn’t allow him to move. “You can ask me any questions during the procedure. Hopefully, it will take less than an hour, and you can start recovering.” He was nervous, but got to work.

 Egrel was laid back on the biobed, taking a deep, calming breath, “Understood, thank you.” He shoved the horible worst case scenarios to the back of his mind.

 Roger started the surgery, working carefully, slowly, and methodically. 

Aimee had a PADD in her hand with a picture of a horse,  “What do you see Dr. Choi?”

Of course, an animal that the Betazoid was not at all familiar with was shown. It looked strange and looked like a creature he saw in Earth’s ancient history. He racked his mind and came up with, “Horse?”

“Good,” Aimee said and switched to another image. Just as she did that the lights of flickered off.  There was no warning.  No red alert klaxon.  Not even the shuddering to weapons hitting the ship.  One minute everything was normal and the next minute the power was gone.

Aimee slapped her combadge, “MacDonald to bridge.”

Roger worked carefully, but quickly, the deftness of his fingers belying the nervousness he felt. Once he was in the groove, the careful cuts and sideways gouges of the soft tissues of Dr. Choi’s pink matter was…satisfying. In his head, the careful monotone of his favorite surgery instructor droned on “Careful, Harrison, just…slow and easy. There.”  He was just about to hit the brainstem when the lights went out. Actually, so did the Biobed, and he looked up. “What the hell?” he managed to sputter as MacDonald was one step ahead him, asking Bridge for a report. “Dr. Choi, are you in pain right now?” 

Nothing.

And there was one of the worst case scenarios. Egrel’s eyes widened, forcing himself to stay calm and silent. Pain shot through his entire body, but he kept still and concealed it

The emergency backups kicked in.  “Relax Egrel. We have emergency backups. We have this under control.”  They had three hours of battery power, and Aimee turned to one of the nurses, “Start a three hour clock”

“Yes, doctor,” the nurse replied.

Aimee returned her attention to Egrel, “How is your telepathic abilities?”

Egrel took a breath, trying to subdue his nerves. Three hours was not a long time. He closed his eyes, trying to sense something, anything. It was quiet, maddeningly so. He opened his eyes, frowning and looking at her, “It’s quiet.” he paused, trying to explain it as best he can to someone who wasn’t a telepath, “Like being near a piece of loud machinery for a long time and stepping into a silent room right after. Deafeningly quiet.”Roger’s question went unanswered, but he knew it. It HAD to be painful. Then, Dr. MacDonald issued an order to the nurse to set a timer for three hours. He looked at Aimee, and then Dr. Williams. He just shrugged carefully, and went on. Working carefully, methodically, Dr. MacDonald kept Dr. Choi awake and speaking while he cut, inserted the stent, and sewed it into place, long fingers working less deftly by the minute, as he grew tired and the blasted “tick-tick-tick” went on behind him (was it really? Or just his mind at play?)

“It seems to have worked.  Are you ready to close him up Doctor Harrison?” Aimee asked.The surgery was over, but they were past the hard part.  Returning to her PADD so she could keep tabs on Egrel’s cognitive status she started playing Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, “It’s okay if you don’t know it. Just hum back a few bars.  I’m testing your auditory and processing abilities.” 

Egrel’s face contorted in cofusion. He heard music, but was having a hard time processing it. He tried to hum along with it, but what he repeated back was not even close to the music.

“Doctor Harrison,” Aimee announced,  “We have cognitive decline. We need to wrap this up.”

“Yes. I can use your assistance here, Dr. Williams,” he stepped once to the left as the other man stood by to hand him tools as he needed them. Closing a wound took more than OPENING one. Finally, he had the counselor’s brain tissues reattached, and closed the incision with stitches, and a cauterizer, in case. He stepped back after. “We’re done.” If his face looked how his body felt, he felt about 70 years old, a good twenty years older than his age that day. “What now?” Stupid question, but his brain sometimes took a second to switch from “surgeon” mode to “competent doctor” mode. “Nurse?” He stepped off to the side fully to allow the woman to do what she needed to do, and let Dr. MacDonald take over her last assessments of Dr. Choi. 

As the restraints were released a nurse went over Choi’s vitals as Aimee started filling out the post surgical checklist.  “Dr. Choi,” she said to Egrel. “How are you feeling?”

Egrel sat there for a solid moment, trying to process how exactly he was feeling. He sighed and bluntly says, “Not ideal, I can tell you that much.”

“Normally we would have moved you to recovery and give you a little privacy,  but with main power out you’re stuck here. I would like to keep you under observation today, and if all is well I will discharge you with light duty.  Since your job is mostly mentally taxing I don’t want you working more than half days for the next week.  Get plenty of rest, and no late night journal reading,” she teased.

Egrel sighed softly. He wasn’t sure he could promise that after this mission. He felt the entire ship needed counselling. Himself included. That could be dealt with later. He looked uo at Aimee and nodded slowly, “I understand. A nap sounds good right about now.”