conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for a book with the title 'Dreams of the Raven'. End with the sentence '"'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dreams of the Raven
  McCoy reached up and pulled down the metal case she had chosen. "I don't see why I have to stay here," he complained as she took the case from him. "I'll only get in the way of doctors who know what they're doing. At least I can be of some use as a paramedic at the trading post."
  Dyson popped open the locks of the medical pack and began an inspection of its contents. "You're wasting your breath, Len. An order is an order."
  That brought her attention back. The corners of her mouth twitched. "You've seen quite enough of me already."
  McCoy flushed a bright red but he affected a look of wide-eyed innocence even as his gaze flickered down from her face. "I'm the ship's chief medical officer. It's my duty to keep a close watch on the crew."
  Dyson choked down her laughter. "Oh, suddenly you're back in Star Fleet. Well, listen here Lt. Commander McCoy..."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs. End with the sentence ' "What's your status on the station?"
  Uhura's repair work must have come apart, because the communications link with Dyson was abruptly severed.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Cortejo did not acknowledge her comment, but the nurse knew he had heard and noted the information. Without slowing his hand movements, the surgeon launched into a lecture. "Given the expected duration of the surgical session, our constricting parameter is the limited blood supply. Increasing the transfusion rate while the patient is still hemorrhaging will rapidly deplete the supply. Furthermore, until I can repair more of the bleeding sites, the added volume will just get in my way." He exchanged the suture gun for a scalpel with a dextrous sleight of hand that almost escaped detection.
  McCoy followed Cortejo's surgical technique with increasing fascination. The man's hands moved with a steady assurance, wielding the scalpel to pare away dying tissue, then deftly sealing the wounds with the suture beam. Though the form and function of this body was foreign to him, McCoy could still discern the pattern of the surgeon's movements, and appreciate the rapid mental judgements which balanced the severity of one damaged site against another without pausing for deliberation.
  The return of the high-pitched alarm pulled McCoy's attention back to the bio-support unit and the two empty blood packets now stacked by its side.
  Kirk accepted her statement with a resigned sigh, but he suspected it would be a long time before his confidence in radio contact would be completely restored. He leaned closer to the panel, as if his proximity to the board would increase its efficiency. "What's your status on the station?"
  Uhura's repair work must have come apart, because the communications link with Dyson was abruptly severed.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last paragraph
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She shrugged. "Your drawl was a bit thicker, but mostly you kept to your studies—you made it up to the third year in current medical school curriculum."