Forstinger's Syndrome

Posted on Fri Jun 13th, 2025 @ 10:01pm by Lieutenant JG Sylorik MD & Petty Officer 3rd Class Josef Forstinger

Mission: Season 6 - 5.5 - Day to Day
Location: Main Sickbay, Deck 12
Timeline: Approximately 3 Months Ago
2224 words - 4.4 OF Standard Post Measure

The tricorder gave its final confirming chirp, and Sylorik closed it with a quiet precision, setting it beside the hypospray that waited neatly on the biobed tray. He glanced once more at the screen affixed to the wall, where the name 'Forstinger, Josef' hovered above a slow scroll of immunological markers. The records were unremarkable--mostly. Slightly erratic cortisol spikes. A metabolic profile that suggested a taste for sodium-rich meals. Traces of nicotine and alcohol in the blood. Nothing unexpected for the Austrian gentleman from 21st century Earth.

But then--

He paused.

The icon for long-term vaccine profiles glimmered faintly, and with a tap, it unfurled a string of old designations. Typhoid. Tetanus. Yellow Fever. Smallpox.

Sylorik's brows drew together. He knew of Earth's history with smallpox and how it had also been weaponized. In fact, Earth's smallpox was part of every Vulcan medical school's infectious diseases curriculum. The smallpox vaccine had been globally deprecated centuries ago, eliminated with the virus. Yet here he was: still present, still active, a stubborn protein signature clinging to Josef's immune memory like an old scar that never faded.

The door opened.

Josef entered, dressed in his casual outfit-which consisted of the same wifebeater top and jeans-paired with combat boots- that he had worn most of his time when not in uniform. The Golden Cross Necklace still slightly shining in the light of the Sickbay as if polished recently. He spotted a Vulcan, one he had not interacted with previously-besides perhaps passing him once or twice in the hallways. He found them sometimes humorous-and sometimes incomprehensibly neutral and judgemental-to be honest he wasn't quite sure what to make of them yet.

"Mister Forstinger," Sylorik said, hands folding behind his back. "You are precisely on time. If you will take the biobed, we can proceed with your final booster."

He gestured with a slight tilt of the head, then let his gaze linger for just a moment longer.

"There is a... peculiarity in your immunization history I would like to discuss, if you don't mind."

"Whats up, Doc." was the response he gave, waving a hand in response to Sylorik folding his hands behind his back. Going to get seated at the bio bed like it had become a sort of routine. "Sure, what do you want to know ?"

The biobed registered Forstinger's presence with a soft chime. Sylorik waited until the man was settled before stepping to the console and reactivating the immunological display. The screen responded instantly, the highlighted entry already queued.

"The anomaly pertains to your long-term vaccine profile," Sylorik began, voice calm, unhurried. "Specifically, the retention of variola immunity markers."

He tilted the monitor slightly, more out of habit than necessity. "That is, smallpox."

Josef's eyes followed the display as he evidently listened to the Vulcans words. Understanding some of the more complicated terminology-while others completely flew over his head. Then again, he wasn't the one who had studied medicine.

"Oh, Smallpox ? Yeah every guy got a jab of the vaccine back in the day right before we got shipped off. Big fear that the 'Genics would weaponize it-which they did. Too bad the vaccine didn't also help against nukes." he joked a little. "But whats the worry, its a vaccine. I mean Its like when I had the measles as a kid once and now am basically immune... right ?"

He was once again trying to be a little humorous perhaps much to the Vulcan's chagrin. But something gave him pause-he did barely know Vulcans, but they rarely mentioned something without explicit reason.

Sylorik regarded him for a moment--expression unreadable, but gaze unwavering. He neither corrected the attempt at humour nor dismissed it. Instead, he returned his attention to the readout, fingers steepling with mechanical care.

"Your assessment is broadly correct," he said at last. "The vaccine remains effective. There is no present immunological risk to you or others aboard."

A pause. A little deliberate.

"However," he added, tilting the monitor back toward its original position, "the presence of an active vaccine strain from the twenty-first century raises certain... complications. Starfleet medical databases maintain strict records. According to your personnel file, you are a recovered temporal displacement subject. But this particular innoculation--its formulation, its markers--it was phased-out prior to the conflict you described. Your strain predates not only your service, but its last known distribution."

His gaze returned to Josef, calm and exact.

"It is not impossible. But it is unusual. And with unusual variables, further inquiry is indicated."

Ah yes. More words he barely understood. That seemingly started to become a trend.

"Well Doc. I don't know what to tell you. They gave the Jav to everyone-probably took it out of some long term storage since the 80s cuz we were the first batch sent in. Smallpox was technically extinct before they weaponized it-or something like that, I was probably still a literal kid around that time." he mused, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Hell, they gave us Pervitin too. Stuffs so old the packaging was falling apart. But it still worked."

He paused when Sylorik turned back to him, and listened to his statement. Raising his eyebrow as if mimicking the Vulcan gesture he had observed from others. "So, by further inquiry you mean tests. What, need some of my blood ?"

Sylorik inclined his head, a tiny nod--neither approving nor admonishing, but accepting the statement as fact.

"Long-term cryogenic storage is plausible. Requisition records from the period were usually incomplete, particularly during conflict deployments. However," he paused, folding his hands behind his back again, "the molecular decay rates in your strain's markers suggest minimal degradation. That implies a recent synthesis and not an old reserve."

He let the observation stand for a moment.

"Yes," he said at least, in response to Josef's question. "A single blood sample, and--if you are amenable--a synaptic scan. Temporal displacement can result in cellular anomalies--rarely. These are often benign, but they can interfere with routine treatments if they are left undocumented."

Sylorik studied the rough-looking human relic.

"I will ensure your file is flagged with necessary exemptions. You will not be subject to any medical holds." He leaned closer to Josef, adding, "I recognize the desire to avoid unnecessary scrutiny."

"Well sure Doc, take as many samples as you want, I don't mind-but, what do you mean by synaptic scan ?" Josef asked, finally having encountered something that he really had no clue about-and neither could fill it in with context clues. "Cellular Anomalies, well those Aliens did freeze and unfreeze me a bunch of times-maybe that also played a part."

Josef then simply gave a nod to Sylorik's next few words, holding out his left arm for him to take a blood sample from. "You recognize correctly."

Sylorik retrieved a sterile vial and injector. The motions were smooth as water over stone. He didn't comment further on Josef's remark, though he did file away the reference to multiple freeze-thaw cycles. Another variable.

The hypospray hissed against the exposed crook of Forstinger's left arm, drawing a crimson bead that disappeared into the sealed vial.

"The synaptic scan," he replied, returning the sample to the tray, "is a non-invasive imaging protocol. It maps cortical pathways, saturation of neurotransmitters, and... others." He paused, realizing Josef may not be familiar with some of the technological advancements in medicine. "We have found that even brief exposure to certain types of stasis or temporal disruption can leave low-level resonant anomalies."

He stepped back in his habitual pose--hands behind him, upright posture.

"There is no risk of damage. And you may view the scan in real time, if you wish."

Forstinger was surprised with how smoothly Sylorik extracted the blood-or how little he did in the first place, he had expected a vial, not just a single crimson bead-but to be honest-he kind of was relieved... he hated needles.

"Ah, I think I get it. Alright, sure Doc, scan away !" he responded with a wave of his hand, his left arm retreating back to his body once he was sure Sylorik didn't need it accessible anymore.

"It is... not often that I encounter a patient whose neural signature predates my people's first contact with Earth," Sylorik mused. He did not say it as admiration. Nor disbelief. Just a fact. Carefully weighed. Marked for study.

"We will proceed now."

Sylorik reached to adjust the overhead diagnostic arc, bringing it smoothly into position over Josef and the biobed. It whirred to life in the softest of sounds--an understated harmonic that, to most patients, faded into background noise. But to Sylorik, its frequency was familiar and reassuring.

"Remain still," he instructed, not unkindly. "The process will take approximately forty seconds."

"Well, I never thought id be meeting or talking to an Alien-no offense, but look at us, huh ?" he joked slightly, only a few seconds realizing that joking with a Vulcan might as well be like talking to a brick wall.

Josef settled in some more as Sylorik adjusted the overhead diagnostic arc, following-or at least trying to follow his instructions the best he can. And while the harmonic may be familiar and reassuring to him-and just background noise to others-to Josef it was highly noticeable. It was like the ships engines constant humming-others who had grown used to it had tuned it out entirely or found comfort in it-but to him the noise was entirely alien. But he remained still, last thing he wants is to be at fault for microwaving his own brain or something along those lines.

Sylorik kept his eyes on the display, not the man.

As the scan began, twin threads of neural telemetry swept across the monitor in green and gold. Cortical pulses lit up in waves--some were tight and efficient, others were scattered like ink in water. The occipital lobe showed a slight desynchronization, likely a result of stasis. There was some slight asymmetry along the prefrontal ridge.

The forty seconds ticked down in silence, save of the soft, liquid-like ping of resonance being logged.

Sylorik leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at one of the final frames.

The scan completed and the arc powered down with a soft ding, folding back into its perch above the biobed.

"The scan is complete. No anomalies requiring intervention," he said evenly. "However, there is mild cortical scattering that is consistent with stasis exposure. Your long-term memory recall may experience some delay. This is not uncommon for those once in temporal suspension."

"Wait, a delay ?" he asked, a bit perplexed-so recalling long term memory was delayed-but he seemed to remember thing just fine. Or was that just an illusion ?

"Well, at least its good to know my brains healthy enough."

Sylorik nodded reassuringly at Josef. "The cortical scan indicates good health, and there is no immediate cause for concern. However, I would advise you to consider terminating the consumption of cigarettes, including the replicated variety. The tar and other chemicals present are detrimental to lung function and overall health."

"I know Doc, I know," he sighed. "But, my Grandfather smoked a pipe, my dad cigarettes-and I just picked it up when they started packing it into rations. I guess its still healthier than pervitin. But I just can't shake the need sometimes."

The Vulcan doctor's expression didn't shift--not in any dramatic way--but there was the faintest flicker in his eyes. A quiet calculation. He folded the tricorder back into its housing and stepped to the console, keying in a few final notes. "Habits formed in environments of deprivation tend to outlast their utility," he said, without judgment. "Your physiology is adapting to a new context, but your mind may still be holding on to anchors. Some of them may serve you. Others will not."

He looked up again, voice low but steady. "If the need persists, we can explore safer alternatives. There are neurostimulant patches designed to mimic the nicotine effect without pulmonary impact. Or therapeutic breath pacing, if it's the ritual more than the chemical you rely on." He paused once more. "I do not suggest this because I expect compliance. I offer it because it is my duty to ensure your body is not undermined by the ghosts of your past."

"Its not the Nicotine, Doc, its..." he paused for a bit as he started getting up from the Biobed. He didn't actually quite know what it was. The Nicotine certainly did play a part in it-he wasn't going to deny it-yet...

Ugh, frustrating. He didn't let it show though, or at least tried to. "Nevermind, I'll think about it." was his next response, waving it off as he approached the door to exit. "See you around, Doc."

Sylorik remained still as the door closed behind Josef. The logs would upload automatically, but he lingered at the console a moment longer, eyes fixed not on the screen but on the empty biobed. Forstinger was a relic of a fractured century walking through a starship not built for him. He was a man still finding his shape.

Hey keyed in a final note--Recommend monitoring for stress-adjacent dependency markers; no intervention at this time--and closed the file.

Then, with his usual practiced calm, he turned to prepare for his next task.

* * *

Petty Officer 3rd Class Josef Forstinger
Security Officer
USS Elysium

&

Lieutenant JG Sylorik, MD
Medical Officer/Surgeon
USS Elysium