"Patient Zero"
By: Ensign Vincent Chan - Science
Crewman Emma Summers - Medical
Location: Holodeck; Counselling Office, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.17 02h00
***
Vincent brushed away a bead of sweat from his brow that was threatening to
invade his vision. He needed his absolute concentration for this activity
and scowled to himself at the thought of messing it up. He bent down. He
bent down until his eye was level with the porthole. Vincent stared across
the wide blue ocean, failing to see anything of significance. He opened his
long naval coat and pulled out a telescope that was hanging from his belt.
His hand briefly brushed the handle of the cutlass next to it.
Vincent placed his eye to the telescope and it immediately brought into
focus the small speck on the horizon. He could make out the three masts and
gundecks of the La Reve, flying the French tricolor. The ship was making its
way towards him. Vincent immediately turned around to the sweaty, dirty
bunch of sailors behind him.
"Enemy in sight!" Vincent yelled. "Load the cannons!"
There was an immediate cacophony of sounds as the crew registered his
orders. The rolling out of the big cannons and the swabbing and loading of
them, masked out all the other sounds. The bitter smell of gunpowder soon
filled Vincent's nostrils.
The hulking mass of the French battleship filled his sights. Vincent gave
the order to fire. The loud boom of the cannon reverberated around the small
gundeck, a resounding and satisfying crack sounded as the shots made a hit.
A sudden explosion behind him made Vincent jerk his head around. He could
see the sky through the jagged hole a French cannonball had made. Vincent
covered himself from the flying splinters of wood. He noticed several
crewmen lying around, a bloody mess, shirts ripped and ears bleeding. As one
crewman staggered towards him Vincent noticed that the man's entire left arm
had been torn away from the enemy fire. Vincent backed away in a nervous
sweat, retreating to the safety of the top deck.
Once in the fresh air Vincent smiled to himself. This was a very good
program indeed. Vincent was in a holodeck program, which thrust him aboard
the HMS Retribution, a mid-sized British frigate, in the midst of war
against Napoleon's France. He could hear the cannonballs whistling
overhead.
The steady battle rhythm of firing, reloading and rolling out the cannons
had now been replaced by the frantic race of firing, swabbing and rolling.
The gunbattle between the two ships had reached a point where the victory
was up to the speed of the guncrews. Vincent saw that the enemy ship was
still approaching. Now came his favorite part.
Vincent rushed up onto the main deck, pistol loaded, sword drawn. The time
had come to board the enemy vessel. The two giant ships thudded on
collision. Vincent let out a war cry and rallied his men to him as he jumped
from the Retribution onto the French ship.
The ensuing gunbattle was vicious and bloody. The air filled with the
cacophony of swords clashing, pistols firing and the screams of sailors. But
Vincent suddenly felt all drive for battle dissipate from his body and mind.
He threw his pistol over board and let the sword drop his side.
"End Simulation," he called, still shocked from his sudden mood change. The
18th century ships disappeared from view. The sudden change in attitude
puzzled Vincent and he decided to go find a counselor.
He walked out of the holodeck, still in his 18th century attire. He must
have looked odd, standing there in the corridor of the Sulu at this time of
night. Vincent began to walk to sickbay, his footsteps reverberating through
the silent corridor.
***
Emma Summers sat in the comfortable chair with her feet on the desk. She was
scrolling through the desk terminal files of the senior crew - counselling
assessments and reviews of performance. It was quiet - the middle of the
night, and she was sitting in the counselling office. Quiet music drifted
across the room, Prachese Ironin and the Parisian Symphony performing
Mozart.
When the strangely dressed crewman entered the outer office she looked up
and quickly cancelled the file that was on the terminal. The dour face of
the ship's First Officer vanished from the screen along with personal
history and counselling assessments.
"Can I help you?" She smiled and her feet dropped off the desk. She assumed
her shyness like a coat. "I'm-I'm the duty counselor." She waved at his
manner of dress. "Nice suit."
Vincent glanced down at himself. His appearance was comical even to himself.
High boots up to his knees, white tights and shirt with a little waistcoat,
little blue neckchief and a bulky overcoat. With a slight smile he shrugged
the navy blue overcoat, gently brushing the epaulettes. He glanced across at
the counselor. He hadn't seen her on board before. She was a pretty little
thing with the most deep and meaningful eyes. I should get sick more
often, he thought. Vincent decided to take this nice and relaxed.
"I've just been in the holodeck," he said shyly, trying to look less a fool
than he already did. "I'm Vincent Chan by the way," Vincent said, extending
his hand. "You can call me V.T, though," he added with a small wink. Vincent
then started tugging at his tie.
Emma just raised an eyebrow. "Veetee, I'm Emma Summers." She waved at a
chair.
"Is that Mozart's Requiem?" Vincent asked. He hummed along to the main
melody as he unbuckled his swordbelt, removing his holster and telescope.
"Yes," she smiled. "So what were you doing in the holodeck - and why are you
here to see me?" Emma sat back as Vincent took off a sword. She had worn her
dark hair down, pulled away from her face by a Starfleet clasp and she
twirled a strand between her fingers as her dark eyes watched him sit. She
had to dredge up the counselling she had learned so long ago at the Academy,
but she relied mostly on her gut instincts for people. She could tell that
Vincent 'VT' Chan was one of the funny ones - his sense of humour was openly
in his eyes. His comical dress another thing, he didn't mind looking foolish
in front of others.
"I guess this sounds stupid," Vincent started. "I was in the holodeck
before, in a war-sim based on an 18th Century Terran war... I'm usually
go-get-'em and eager for a fight but now...I'm losing my drive, my
enthusiasm." And my touch, he thought to himself ruefully. If that's the
best I can do...
Vincent leaned forward, and dropped his voice, almost as if telling the
counsellor a secret. "I'm getting bored...all this is losing its
meaning...." he confessed. But with that he bounced back up and grinned.
"Still got my sense of humor though..."
With that he did what seemed to him at the time a perfectly logical thing to
do...join in on the music. "Confutatis...Maladictis...Flammis acribus
addictus..." Vincent belted out the latin lyrics with gusto. At the end of
the phrase he broke off with laughter. He was enjoying himself...despite
looking like a fool in front of the counsellor. He wondered what her
reaction to all this was. Vincent had waltzed in there a nervous wreck, flat
and emotionless. Now he was bouncing up and down singing in latin... And all
Emma had done was introduce herself.
Emma just watched his performance with a slight smile. She ended up crossing
her arms in front of her chest and leaning back casually waiting for him to
finish.
Vincent finally settled down. "Sorry to bother you but still...that was a
quick fix...what do you recommend to keep me occupied on the long term,
Counsellor?"
"Well, Veetee, that was mildly interesting." She frowned at this joker that
had waltzed into her office with his costume and wild antics. "You want a
Section 8 discharge or are you just trying to fool with my head?" She
decided to cut through the antics with a razor. "I've got better things to
do than have practical jokes played on me in the middle of the night." She
paused a moment before adding, "Or are you on something?"
"Oh no, no, no, no!" Vincent exclaimed, shaking his head. "I had no intention
of playing any jokes." He then leveled her with a steady gaze, the humor now
removed from his eyes. "I was serious when I said I'm losing my enthusiasm
for the job. I guess you could call it a depression of sorts, or maybe it's
just fatigue? I hope it's not depression or anything too serious but still,
I thought it best to check with you." Vincent waited patiently for Emma's
opinion.
Emma tapped her terminal and Chan's profile emerged. "You haven't been here
long enough to lose your enthusiasm," she smiled. "So what is it that you're
depressed about? You're a science officer - why do you spend your time
killing people in an old battle?"
Vincent paused. He scratched his head. "To be honest," he began, "I have no
idea. I guess since I never had any siblings as a kid as I was too friendly
to
everyone at school, I never found anyone or anything to take my anger out on
or to have deep, meaningful talks with for that matter. I solved the first
problem with the holoprogram, but the second one..." He lingered, staring
into Emma's eyes. It suddenly struck him just how beautiful she was. Vincent
took a deep breath and broke off eye contact, sitting back into his chair
again.
Emma held his eye contact until he had to look away. "So," she said softly.
"For anger you have a holoprogram...so what is it that makes you angry,
Vincent. Angry enough to play war games?" She smiled, "Maybe it's the anger
you're losing enthusiasm for...."
Again Vincent looked into Emma's eyes. There was an awkward silence. He knew
she was right. He wanted to argue, but somehow, something inside him told
him not, told him he couldn't. He sighed and stared down at the ground.
"You're right," Vincent admitted. "All that pent up energy inside me, needed
to be released, so I released it as anger instead of doing something
constructive. Forgive me, I've been a fool." He gave her another smile. "How
did you know? Even I had no idea, but you knew and it makes so much sense.
Could you read me so easily?"
Emma grinned. "I'm a counsellor, Vincent, that's what I do!" She leaned back
and looked at her first patient. She'd gone with her gut instinct and it
never failed her. "Don't beat yourself up about not doing something
constructive. Anger expressed in a holodeck against holo-simulations is
actually a very constructive method of dealing with it. That's what
holodecks are designed for. You took your anger out on something totally
harmless to anyone - and it allowed you to carry on with your job. Now you
can channel all that enthusiasm I can see in you into something good." She
smiled at him and raised both eye brows in a comical fashion. It was totally
weird: Here she was being a real counsellor. Something she'd never imagined
in a thousand years. It actually felt good to know she could pull it off.
Something about Emma made Vincent feel different. He felt more relaxed, more
open, then he had ever been before. Something about her radiated a sense of
confidence and reassurance. She had known exactly what was going on in his
head. He hadn't felt this way around anyone, not even his close friends and
relatives, let alone the girls he had been with in the academy. Somehow Emma
was different.
"Do you want to get a drink sometime?" Vincent asked hesitatingly. He had
his fingers crossed behind his back, hoping that she would say yes.
Emma laughed, and knew that he was serious. She wasn't mocking him, which
was a change for her - instead she just looked at him and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Vincent," she said with a little regret laced into her voice for
good measure. "I'd really like to...but you came into my office looking for
a counsellor - not a date!" She leaned forward and gave him a sunny smile.
"That's a patient doctor thing...you know...ethics... Can't do it.... If
Counsellor Scott found out that I even thought about having a drink with you
around twenty hundred hours tomorrow night in the crew lounge - I'd be in
big trouble." She winked. "Wouldn't I?"
Vincent laughed. At first it took some time to comprehend his rejection.
Ahh well, he thought, I can still go to the crew lounge tomorrow night
at... Then it hit him. It hit so hard that the he almost slapped himself at
his own stupidity. She had said "twenty hundred hours tomorrow night in the
crew lounge." This sounded a lot like a hint. The only reason Vincent hadn't
noticed at first was that he was used to a more direct approach. Maybe
tonight wasn't a loss after all. His inner self sighed in relief. He could
hear the two voices in his head:
"You look sick," said Little V.T.
"I guess I am," came his own reply.
"What happened?"
"I've been smitten."
"Bitten? By what?"
"No not bitten smitten. By a girl."
"Ewww. I never want to be smitten by a girl. Did it hurt?"
"Sure did, Little V.T. Sure did."
Here Vincent stopped listening to himself. Instantly the two conflicting
voices of his conscience were silenced. They shouldn't be coming back
anytime soon. At least he thought not. He turned his attention back to Emma
who was giving him a suspicious look. He decided not to point out that he
also got the hint directly, but to play her game and hint back.
"Well no one likes getting into trouble with their superiors now would
they?" Vincent said, returning her wink. "I wouldn't want to see you get in
trouble...We don't want anyone to see you get in trouble..."
Emma shook her head looking seriously at the smiling science officer. "No..."
she said. "Now...go get some sleep," she said. "And I'll schedule a next
appointment...." She gave him a smile. "We need to work on some anger
management."
"Whatever you say. I look forward to seeing you around," Vincent said,
standing up. He bundled his gear under one arm. "Goodnight, Miss Summers,"
he said, extending his free hand. "You don't mind if I call you Emma or Em,
do you?
"Emma," she stressed as she lightly took his hand. "Good night, Veetee."
"Goodnight." He gently kissed her hand. "Sweet dreams. You take care of
yourself now, alright? I'll see you tomorrow at eight." With that Vincent
gave her a wave and left.
As he walked out Emma sat at the desk and chuckled softly to herself. She
filled out the report in Vincent's file and did the synopsis of their
discussion - excluding the fact that he asked her for a date. She grabbed a
coffee from her replicator and pondered whether she was actually going to
show up tomorrow. Letting Veetee sit waiting for a couple of hours seemed to
appeal to her sense of humor.
"Return to Form"
by Commander Lyrr Tayla - Executive Officer
and Ensign Ethan Storm - Security Officer
Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck Two
Stardate: 57907.17 06h00
***
Lyrr grunted and sweat-soaked hair fell into her eyes as she was slammed up
against the holoprojected wall of the court. Her competitor, a tall,
sturdily built male, had just gotten off a shot that barely missed the black
score zone when he decided Lyrr could do with another bruise. The
holographic opponent had been programmed to display prowess, aggression, and
attitude, as well as complete disregard for delicacy when facing a female
competitor; she hadn't been so roughly treated during a game of springball
in all her life, but she was used to brutality, and the remembered pain of
it from her past gave Lyrr a surge of strength she drew on to shove the
hologram away and duck past him.
She dove to keep the ball up before it could reach its second bounce, but
all the attempt earned her was more scrapes and bruises. The program beeped
to signal another point for her competitor, and with a growl of frustration,
Lyrr sprang to her feet and ordered the computer to retrieve the ball. Her
teal outfit clung even more tightly to her from the perspiration soaking
through it. Dark patches of it stained the front, where her chest heaved
with every deep breath, as well as under her arms. She was driving herself
especially hard that day; it was the only way to eliminate the stress and
disappointment. First Farrell, but mainly Ensign Storm. If she had
performed her duty as first officer far better, she could have prevented his
fall. Instead, she'd been absorbed in fighting the demons of her past, yet
she'd failed miserably in both respects. A shouted Bajoran curse echoed off
the court's three walls as Lyrr swung her arm overhead and twisted her body
forward in a blazing serve. She wished she could toss away her guilt as
easily as she could that ball.
Ethan Storm slipped into the holodeck, dressed in his own all black
springball uniform and regarded the game in progress. Commander Lyrr was
so intent on the match that she didn't even seem to notice the arch's
appearance. She hadn't secured the holodeck but it wouldn't have made a
difference if she had: Storm Extreme Spring 1-C was authored by Ethan and
even though he had allowed it to be used by the crew, he had written in a
backdoor password that he could use at any time.
Lyrr made a spectacular shot on a dive, the ball ricocheting from the
center score oval at an incredible speed. It was a risky maneuver; the
dive left her out of position and if her opponent managed to volley, he was
assured the points.
The ball tipped off his glove and continue hurtling towards the back of
the court. Quick as a cat, Storm snatched it out of the air with his hand
and instantly rued the action - the tip off the glove hadn't slowed the ball
as much as he thought. He put a mask over the pain as Lyrr turned to the
back of the court and seemingly noticed him for
the first time.
"I'm glad to see you're enjoying the program, Commander," Storm said, a
little stiffly. Lyrr's recommendations at his hearing had been
surprisingly light but he didn't want to assume that all was forgiven. In
fact, he knew
better. He tossed her the ball with his stung hand.
Catching it, Lyrr nodded a thanks. "I was just finishing up," she told
him, slightly breathless. "Did you want the court?"
"Only if you stay on it," Storm said, walking up to Lyrr's opponent. "Get
lost," he said to the simulated springballer and it promptly responded to
the slang phrase by disappearing. Storm's recreational restriction only
allowed for an hour but he'd certainly rather spend it with a real player -
even if it was Commander Lyrr. Maybe even more so.
Storm strapped his helmet - an actual helmet this time - into place. "I
believe you had promised to help me with my serve, ma'am."
Lyrr sighed and studied Storm's face with scrutiny. "I know what you're
trying to do," she told him, then pitched Storm the ball. "And I don't
think it's going to work." She gestured to the serving square and stepped
aside. "Show me your form."
Storm stepped into the square and assumed a serving position. "What am I
trying to do, ma'am?" he asked, tossing the ball in the air
and striking it viciously with his gloved hand. He had swung his arm in an
unusual side style rather that an over or under but the ball got
great speed, picking up more when it smashed into the second oval. The
ricochet carried it to Lyrr without a bounce but she didn't even try to
stop it. It flew past her and hit the rear wall.
"Good," she commented flatly. "But pivot your body into the strike and
don't over-rotate." Lyrr held her palm up into the air. "Computer,
retrieve ball." The white sphere materialized in her hand, then she
tossed it to Storm. "And you're trying to befriend me, Ensign. Am I
right?"
Storm studied the score ovals and began his serve. "I don't know," he
said, with a hard grunt on the 'know' as he threw his whole body into an
effort to put the ball through the holodeck wall.
It went right for Lyrr
on the rebound at breakneck speed and in a fluid motion, she dropped back
then returned the serve with a powerful forehand. The target beeped as the
ball slammed in the solid white oval surrounding the target's center. It
bounced back at a steep angle, too low even for a dive to save it, then
petered to
a stop against the side wall. Lyrr looked upon him with a hard stare. "I
saw it coming."
"The serve or the renewed attempt to befriend you?" Storm asked without
missing a beat or retrieving the ball.
"Oh, so that's what this is," Lyrr retorted. "Well, now that we're not
actually evading the subject here..." She rested one hand upon her hip as
she turned to fully face Storm, while her gloved hand remained at her
side. Her stare was still cold and impassive. "I meant the ball, because I
didn't think you'd actually have the courage to speak to me again. I don't
know
whether to commend you or be suspicious."
"I said I didn't know what I was trying to do, ma'am," Storm pointed out.
"I was speaking to your suspicions. Computer, retrieve ball." The ball
appeared in his hand and he instantly tossed it up for the serve. The
vicious
overhand smash sent it careening into the center oval and the unique top
spin made for a sharp angle to the floor. By the time it got to Lyrr's
position in was rolling along the floor, making a return impossible.
Again, the Commander hadn't moved.
"If I get a vote, I'd say commend me," Storm said, smiling broadly.
"However, you'd probably be ordered to revoke it by Starfleet Command."
Storm pointed at the ball and added: "If you're not even going to try to
return my A-material, how will I know I'm improving?"
Lyrr pursed her lips and marched forward to snatch up the ball. She
glared at Storm as she straightened up and made her way to the serving box
he was
occupying. Face-to-face now and able to search his eyes freely, Lyrr
thought she detected a note of regret there, though his smile seemed to
belie it. "Your serve," she said softly, then pushed the ball into his
chest, but didn't relinquish her hold when Storm's hand rose to cradle the
bottom of it. "You messed up, Ensign," Lyrr told him, but without
condescension in her tone. "Now, try dropping your right shoulder. You'll
gain more leverage that way." Then she released the ball.
She was close enough for Storm to feel the warmth from her body, elevated
as it was by activity. Her natural scent mixed with her sweat and he took
her
in as he breathed. His fingers had brushed hers when she'd pulled
her hand away from the ball and without that support, he let it fall to his
side. He looked down into the deep brown pools of her eyes and saw the
disappointment there. And the hurt. And something else. He took a
half-step closer.
"I did mess up," Storm said softly, his cocky smile fading into utter
sincerity. "And I am sorry that it hurt you."
Lyrr nodded imperceptibly, and continued steadfastly to hold his gaze.
"This has nothing to do with me," she replied dismissively. "We were
barely friends, Ensign; the only person hurt in all this was yourself. What
I experienced was more along the lines of...disillusionment." She closed
her eyes briefly and sighed. "And perhaps a slight case of betrayal.
There's a part of me that keeps thinking: What if I hadn't crossed that line
between
professionalism and friendship? Would I have seen this coming? Could I
have prevented it?" She shrugged, looking as if the entire weight of the
universe were on her shoulders. "I let you down, Ensign," she admitted
quietly. "And I'm sorry for that."
"You said it yourself, Commander: We were barely friends." Ethan kept his
blue eyes latched on to her brown ones. "You couldn't have prevented it.
You didn't let me down. And you have nothing to be sorry about."
"Barely friends," she repeated quietly to herself, then smiled wryly. She
couldn't decide whether to be insulted, or relieved. Instead, she chose
mild amusement as she chuckled lightly. "At least I know you didn't do it
to get as far away from me as possible," she quipped. "That's, perhaps, a
good thing."
"I had no desire to get far away from you. Quite the opposite." At that
moment, Storm seemed closer than ever though Lyrr didn't think he had
moved again. He let go of the ball and it struck the deck once before
hitting
the side of his foot and rolling away. Hesitantly, bravely, and perhaps a
little foolishly, Storm reached out and took her ungloved hand.
Lyrr's jaw reflexively clenched and her body stiffened apprehensively; she
was too immobilized to even tear her hand from his. "Ensign," she
managed, the deep furrows on her brow an indication of her uneasiness, "I
think you
should serve." The forcefulness of her gaze emphasized the suggestion.
"I really think you should."
"Commander," Storm began, not dropping her hand but loosening his already
loose grip. "It's not what you think...I know I've already ruined any
chance of that. But I need you to know one thing."
Although finding it difficult to focus with the Ensign uncomfortably
close, Lyrr nodded. "What is it?"
"Of all the aftermath from my actions," Storm declared. "Your
disappointment was the hardest to bear. I can take the formal reprimand and
I can handle
the restrictions but I never want to see that look in your eyes again."
Storm gave her hand a tender squeeze. "I promise you that if I ever do, I
won't be the one who put it there." Ethan let her hand slide out of his
grasp and took a backward step before he turned and made for the door.
He almost made it there, until, after delaying a long, hesitant moment,
Lyrr called out to him. When he looked over his shoulder at her, she
raised an eyebrow and quipped, "You still haven't shown me your serve - a
real one."
Her tense features softened, and for a brief, rare instant, she allowed
him a smile. "Afraid you'd never get one past me?"
Ethan studied her carefully before returning the smile. Then he turned back
towards her fully.
"Computer, retrieve ball."
"Survival of the Fittest"
By: Ensign Nathalie Gui - Communications Officer
Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Location: Holodeck 2, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.17 09h00
***
Nathalie Gui took another deep breath as she walked down the corridor that
would lead her to Holodeck Two. Today was the big day, the final test and
judgement as to whether or not she would become a Security Officer. The
test?
Five days in the Holodeck in near unlivable conditions with just her wits
and uniform to survive. Part of herself looked forward to this test, another
part of herself feared it. Ready she was certain. Tightening the braid
behind her back Nathalie stopped outside the Holodeck Two doors to be
greeted by Benedict T'Kal.
"On time," he smiled. "Good." He held out a tricorder and started to scan
her with a slight smirk on his face. "Sorry about the precautions - but
cadets have been known to enter this test with all manner of items hidden on
their person.." He waved the tricorder down her body and seemed satisfied
with the results. "Good, you're clean." He grinned. He put the instrument
away and looking into her eyes he asked, "You feel confident about this?"
Nathalie nodded as Benedict looked her in the eyes and remarked without
flinching, "Yes, sir, and if anything I always welcome a good challenge that
I know will require all of my skills." Taking a deep breath she then added,
"I feel that I'm ready."
Benedict grinned. "You'd better be." He waved a hand at the holodeck and
tapped a code on the console. The doors slid open and the view was the
Sulu's hangar deck. Shuttles and runabouts in their bays and a few crew
members walking around. They walked in.
The runabout "Arapaho" stood in the centre of the flight line. The pilot
'kicking the tires' as he walked around on his visual inspection. Benedict
turned to Nathalie and nodded. "This is it. Are you sure?"
Turning to Benedict, Nathalie nodded. "Aye, sir, I have come this far, it
would be a waste to not go through with this; but yes I am ready."
He nodded again and said, "Computer. T'Kal Omega Omega - One. Disengage
holodeck safety protocols." He stared unblinkingly at Nathalie Gui as she
listened to his words. He saw her eyes go wide when the computer responded.
"Security Authorisation accepted. Holodeck safety protocols disengaged.
Warning - holodeck safety protocols disengaged. Program Security Omega
Omega - One accepted. Auto lock-down commences in three minutes. Time set at
one hundred and twenty hours. Warning - program will lock down in two
minutes forty five seconds."
"Good luck, Ensign." He shook her hand. "Remember - this is real - no
messing. All you have to do is get through it - it's not that hard. Just
remember your survival skills - and if you want to quit all you have to do
is say you quit - three times in thirty seconds. You quit - you've still got
a job in ops."
She shook his hand firmly in return. "I understand completely, sir, see you
in five days." Gui watched as T'Kal left the Holodeck. Turning around she
took in the surroundings of what would be her home for the next week; it was
going to be quite a week as well.
As the doors closed on the holodeck Benedict grinned. The access code he'd
used was for specific training situations such as the one Ensign Gui was
undertaking. The holodeck simulations were great for training purposes - but
there came a time when real stresses of real situations just couldn't be
faked in a simulation. So the holodeck safety systems were used as a bluff.
The cadets fully believing the holodeck could hurt them induced the same
stress factors of a real situation. Thus the exams were real in every sense.
Ensign Gui believed that the safety systems were disengaged - and she would
hopefully act accordingly.
Meanwhile the whole scenario would be played out for the next five days -
and a security officer who was qualified to assess these examinations would
be watching through monitors at all times. She would be critiqued and
assessed. Her actions in every circumstance would be weighed and evaluated.
For the next five days she was under a pretty tight system of testing. Would
she crack under pressure? Benedict didn't think so. Gui was an able officer
who had shown already that she was fully capable of carrying out the
security duties on the Sulu.
All she had to do was use her head for the next one hundred and twenty
hours. In a little under forty minutes the shuttle she was about to leave
the simulated Sulu on would have a malfunction and she would find herself on
a Class L planet with an injured pilot and her wits and training.
Benedict thought that she'd do alright. After all she'd had the guts to
confront Lyrr Tayla at the dinner - that was almost like spitting on a
Klingon..
"You Know You're A Junior Medical Officer When..."
by Ensign Kremer - Medical Officer
and Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer
Location: Sickbay; USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.17, 09h46
***
Kremer tapped away at the data PADD he held in his hand as he spoke to the
young nurse before him reviewing her work. He smiled fangs only showing
slightly as he handed the PADD back to the young crewman. "Crewman your
work is both very thorough and detailed, keep at it." She smiled a bit
hesitantly before nodding and exiting the office.
Kremer watched her go and proceeded to return to his work. He looked back up
and noticed the newest Medical Officer, Ensign Raina Derrell. From what
Kremer knew she was fairly new still and he'd prefer that the young woman
have everything downpat. Standing, Kremer attempted to snap his fingers only
to find one with furred hands had less an easier time emulating the human
act.
Shaking his head the Caitian decided to instead approach the woman and did
just that. "Ensign Derrell, I'm Ensign Kremer...welcome aboard the Sulu..."
he stated, offering his paw for her to shake.
Raina shook his paw with a smile. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Kremer purred softly as she shook her hand. "And you as well, Ensign."
So far she had been busy getting herself better acquainted with Sulu's
sickbay. When it came to her profession Raina was meticulous. Settling
into a new assignment had its glitches but her work ethic never changed.
Releasing his paw from her hand he then asked, "So, Ensign Derrell have
you had any trouble settling in, or any questions in particular for myself
and the Senior Medical Staff?" Crewman or Ensign Kremer felt it necessary to
ask the question as he knew that even when he himself was once a cadet,
one took to settling in quite differently...good or bad, it was always best
to know how one's crewmates were faring.
"A new assignment always requires some adjustment," Raina answered,
"I've been familiarizing myself with the ship and its medical facilities."
"Excellent, I'm sure as you may or may not already know, the Sulu's
sickbay is adequately equipped to handle a variety of medical phenomena;
even if that includes trying to better understand the quirky EMH," he said
with a slight smile to show he was joking.
Raina smiled, "You have that same problem with the EMH. Must be standard
on all starships. That's good information about the facilities."
"That or the EMH's creator thought he could have a bit of fun with Starfleet
Medical when creating someone with odd bedside manners," Kremer deadpanned.
"I trust have you met the other members of the Medical Staff, Ensign
Derrell aside from myself?"
"Well I reported into Dr M'lira but that's about all that I've met so far due
to the ship being on shore leave at the time."
"Yes, as you may or may not, at the moment Dr. M'lira is currently our
ship's Acting Chief Medical Officer, the previous CMO Doctor Sean O'Shea
had left quite unexpectedly much to our surprise. If you like I could give
you a copy of the crew roster for medical so that you may see who you'll be
working with."
Raina nodded as her gaze remained on Kremer. "Yes I am aware of that.
Thank you for offering but it won't be necessary, I've already looked at the
medical roster. With many of the crew on leave I've had a lot of time to
review those types of things. But I would like to hear your personal
assessment on this department." It always helped to get the opinion of
another medical staff member that wasn't the department head.
"How silly of me, but as Terrans say, what is it better to be safe then
sorry?"
His ears twitched in bemusement at his joke. "As for an assessment of the
medical department itself from a non-department head...we're an adequate
team when it comes to seeing that the patients receive proper medical care.
Not very
long ago I worked with Medtech Amaya Chen, and recently away from the ship
due to personal problems back home, Ensign Cristobel Sefton; both of them are very good officers easy - no, wonderful to work with and quite bright. I
have had yet the chance to work with Ensign Emma Summers along with Ensign
Amy Reese very much and from my knowledge we also have had a Doctor Hank
McGraw join our crew recently."
Holding his paws out briefly before clasping them together then Kremer
stated, "Personally I believe we have a good group of medical crew here, some
normal, not so normal, some strange, not so strange, well I would say we
have a mixed but even bunch."
Sighing he then remarked, "Why does it feel like I just described a fruit
salad of some kind? Forgive me for my comments, Ensign, is there anything
else you wished to know about?" he asked, looking at Raina.
It was difficult not to laugh and Raina eventually failed in her attempt to
stay composed. "Comparing the medical staff to a fruit salad. Now I'm
sure that's not the strangest thing I've ever heard." She paused. "At this
time I can't think of anything that's been missed. If I do come across
something I won't hesitate to ask. Other than that I'm just taking this
quiet time to
settle in before an emergency strikes." Noticing Kremer's confused look
Raina
added, "Sorry just a bit of ER humor there."
"Excellent, I'll be more than certain to keep that in mind." Smiling Kremer
clapped Raina on the shoulder and smiled, "And, Ensign I have a feeling
you're going to fit in just fine here."
Raina smiled, "Thank you. I look forward to working with you, Ensign
Kremer."
"Counselling"
By: Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Lt. Brennyn Scott - Chief Counsellor
Location: Counsellor Scott's Office, USS Hikaru Sulu
Stardate: 57907.17, 14h25
***
Benedict T'Kal strode purposely through the corridors of deck four until he
fronted the Counsellor's area adjacent to sickbay. He wasted no time in
hesitation. He was here to speak with Counsellor Scott regarding an official
debriefing for the incident on Risa that had almost gotten Benedict killed.
He didn't feel the need to discuss the matter. In fact he resented being
ordered to attend - especially since it had been Tayla's suggestion to the
Counsellor that had brought him here. His discussion with Scott the previous
night at the senior officers' dinner had been very short - and looking back
he had been a little sarcastic to the woman. That had solicited an
unfavourable response and she had further ordered him to attend today.
He'd had two games of Springball early in the morning with Tayla and their
breakfast afterward had been, to Benedict's mind, disappointing. He was
still mulling over what he was going to do about Tayla. He put it aside as
he passed his palm over the chime sensor. As usual Benedict was in his black
SOBs - it made him distinctive in the corridors of the Sulu, like a dark
presence that haunted the decks, although today he wore his hair loose and
it rested across his shoulders in a fine raven mane, a pure white strand
streaking his left forelock.
The door slid open with its customary hiss to reveal Counselor Brennyn
Scott, clad in the standard teal and black uniform that was typical of the
officers serving in the science, medical or counseling departments. Her
short dark hair, normally securely tucked behind her ears, had fallen
forward, forcing her to push it back as she regarded him. A wry smile
tugged at her lips. He certainly looked as though he were dressed for
combat. Bree wondered if this were some sort of statement on his part
regarding this meeting or if he indeed expected an enemy to come down from
her ceiling at any moment. She didn't know whether to be amused or
concerned by either possibility. "Hello again. Please, come in." Scott
gestured for him to come in and make himself at home.
As the door opened he stepped into the Counsellor's domain. The office was
sparse, but comfortable - as in most areas of the Sulu. He gave the woman a
smile - and a polite nod. "Counsellor," he said as he made for the chair
opposite her desk. His gaze regarded her with a touch of suspicion as he
sat. He relaxed into the seat and let his hands fall into his lap, fingers
lightly pressed together. He looked into her eyes directly and waited until
she began.
Brennyn couldn't help but register the suspicion in his eyes and felt
compelled to put him at ease. "I assure you I don't bite, Lieutenant...
May I call you Benedict?" At his nod, she continued, "Feel free to call me
Brennyn or Bree if you prefer." It was her standard introduction, though
looking at him she doubted he would be comfortable with such informality.
"As I was saying, I don't intend to bite, and I want to take this
opportunity to apologize for my curtness last night. I got the impression
we were both operating under a misunderstanding. I'd like you to be
comfortable here, and if you're not, I want you to feel free to speak to
Counselor Chambers."
In truth, she did not regret what she had said, that is the thought behind
it, merely the way it had come across. As usual, her emotions and her mouth
got the better of her brain. As much as she hated being talked down to, she
would not leave him thinking it was her style to twist arms or to shame
people into opening up.
Benedict nodded. His first impulse had been to apologise for his own lack of
courtesy the previous evening, but she'd beaten him to it. He smiled -
considering last night's discussion with Tayla about her jealous reaction to
Scott, and the image brought to mind with Scott's remark about 'not biting.'
Benedict's wife had been Klingon, he grinned. "I'm glad to hear that,
Counsellor." He purposely ignored her name, but his smile was genuine. "I'm
sorry too. I was a little distracted." He held her gaze steadily, wondering
what she was really thinking. "I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been
extremely busy with all things considered. I don't really require your
services as a counsellor - the incident on Risa doesn't bother me."
Scott gestured to the replicator, walking over to it as she listened to him
speak. "May I get you something?" To go with the line you're trying to
sell me... her mind added sarcastically.
"No thanks," Benedict replied with a smile. He didn't imagine that he'd be
in her office that long.
She resumed her positiion directly in front of him. Bree looked for any
hint of deception in his violet gaze, but found, not surprisingly, that they
revealed nothing that he did not want them to. He was on guard. "The
incident on Risa doesn't bother you, or you haven't allowed it to?" Scott
hadn't lost sight of the fact that he'd failed to acknowledge what had
actually happened, and what it had to do with him, in favor of the much more
neutral term.
"It doesn't bother me because it doesn't bother me, Counsellor." He held her
eyes and smiled as he talked softly. "I'm the Chief of Security on a
Federation ship - my prime responsibility is to see to the safety of the
crew and the ship against anyone and anything that threatens either. Where
you use a couch for your profession, I use phasers, anti-matter weapons and
anything else that comes to hand in mine. Being a security officer means I
have to be able to cope with the idea of putting myself between you and an
enemy - and risking my life for yours. I do my job, Counsellor because
I'm suited to it. I'm a violent man, used to violent methods. You have my
file - it's all in there. My past. I've been close to death so many times it
doesn't mean anything anymore. I'm not afraid of death. If I was afraid of
dying I wouldn't be a very good Security Chief." He stopped, talking long
enough to grin. "I also enjoy living, Counsellor - but I wouldn't hesitate to
give my life if it meant that I saved this ship or anyone on it."
Brennyn paused a moment, seeming to Benedict she was sure, to actually be
considering his response. Slowly, a smile spread across her face and her
eyes sparkled. "I have to hand it to you, Ben, that's one of the most
concise, pat answers I've ever heard in my life... Your colleagues in
security would most certainly be proud. Indeed, I give you an 'A' for
effort. Now, I find it interesting that when I asked you about how you felt
about what occured, your first instinct is to tell me exactly what it is
you're supposed to do as a Security Officer and what it is that you're
willing to do for myself and any other member of the crew. But, if I'm not
mistaken, it was Commander Lyrr who eventually came to your aid, wasn't it?
You lie there on the floor, bleeding out, and it was Lyrr, the woman you
were supposed to be protecting who saved you. Are you telling me you feel
nothing about that?"
It was not said cruelly or with the slightest bit of an edge, but Scott had
made it clear that T'Kal was not going to coast through this evaluation so
easily. She sensed more than a touch of defensiveness as he spoke, as if
the mere notion that he felt something about what had happened to him was an
insult to his integrity as a Security Officer. The truth of the matter was
that it would concern her more if Ben really didn't feel anything about what
had happened to him. Fortunately, she didn't believe that was the case
here.
Benedict stared at her. This wasn't going the way he wanted it to. He
smiled. The thought of Tayla made him smile. "I am grateful for Commander
Lyrr's assistance, Counsellor, but if I hadn't done my duty and taken out the
assassin, she wouldn't have been able to return the favor. Yes she saved my
life. For the record I have expressed my appreciation to the commander for
doing that. What would have concerned me more would have been the inability
of her aid due to my failing in my own duty. I am grateful to have lived
through the experience. I live to fight another day."
She smiled. He had passed this particular test. So he wasn't embarrassed
by the events, and yet, she sensed he wasn't quite as cavalier about them as
he appeared. "And besides gratitude, what else do you feel? Just, about
anything," she amended. The interesting thing was Scott didn't believe
T'Kal was the kind of person who would lie to her outright. He might not
tell her the whole truth, at least not without her having to drag it out of
him, but she didn't think he was the type that was motivated to lie to her.
He didn't miss the inference. His first instinct was to deny it. She was
either reacting to what Lyrr had said to her at the dinner, or she was
probing to see if he had misplaced feelings for Lyrr because she saved his
life. That was an interesting point - he even reflected upon it for a few
moments to examine just how he was feeling in that regard. No...it wasn't
that. Just thinking of his growing feelings for Lyrr made him smile. He
wasn't looking at the counsellor, just a hint of a frown touched his face to
be replaced by a slow smile that showed true warmth.
When he looked back at Scott he shrugged. "I feel fine, Counsellor," he
smiled and held her eyes with his violet stare. It wasn't what she was
looking for - but there was no way he was going to embarrass Lyrr with an
admission of his true feelings to the ship's senior counsellor. She might be
impelled to inform the captain if she thought there was any conflict of
interest in his command staff.
Were she aware of what he thought she wanted, Bree would have laughed. The
truth was, she didn't give a damn about whom he saw romantically as long as
it didn't interfere with his duties. "What does that mean? Happy? Sad?
Lonely?"
"Reasonably happy with my new posting," he smiled. "Sad to miss the friends
that I made on the Windsor, and a little bit lonely - I know almost no one on
the Sulu yet. I've been extremely busy. I pull double shifts most days
because there's so much to do before we get through the wormhole. I'm tired
most days, a little stressed but my physical exercise regimen allows me to
burn off the excess energy and keep me energized enough to do what I have
to. I have very little time to devote to myself - my duty comes first."
She found the reiteration interesting. "And yet you mentioned having very
little time to yourself. Surely you can see where that could be a concern."
"I think things will calm down once we're through the wormhole," he replied
honestly. "I'm new to the ship - I have to get to know everyone and work
with them. As a department head, Commander Lyrr keeps me busy, and I have my
own security ideas to implement. It all takes time, and as we have a defined
barrier to get it done, I pull the shifts I need to to make sure it happens.
I'm not about to let the captain down - I'm not going to miss anything
before we leave the Alpha Quadrant. Once we're underway, I can imagine
getting back to a more normal single shift routine. Then I'll have more time
than I know what to do with." He gave her a warm smile to try to get past
her counsellor front. "I have personal needs, I play music, I paint - I run.
I play poker occasionally and I'm into a few 'extreme' sports - like Orbital
Surfing." He chuckled, "I play Springball with Commander Lyrr every morning,
and I like poetry - preferrably in Klingon, all when I have the time..."
Scott nodded agreeably. "Klingon poetry is quite fascinating, isn't it?
You were married to a woman of Klingon heritage, weren't you?"
"Yes I was." His eyes turned introspective for a moment as he thought of
Alayessa. His voice took on a sad quality. "Before I entered Starfleet. I
still carry her name of course...T'Kal. That was a long time ago now. She
died as a Klingon would wish - in battle with a hated enemy." He looked up
at the counsellor and gave her a smile. "That part of my life is over."
"What part? Your life with her or the part where you get serious enough
with someone to think about marriage again?"
He laughed softly to himself. "I was engaged to be married in my last
relationship, Counsellor. I don't have much luck with women," he said with a
tinge of bitterness touching his voice. "My fiancée was murdered by a
terrorist. That was five years ago. I've had two relationships since - both
short. I haven't given up on looking though." He smiled as he looked back at
her.
Brennyn regarded the Security Chief carefully. He was answering her
questions, but it was quite clear he knew exactly how much to reveal and
just what to say. He was playing her because he was angry, but he wasn't
angry at her. Time would tell, she hoped. "Perhaps the Sulu will help you
find what you're looking for."
She folded her hands in her lap and addressed him. "I'm going to clear you
for this evaluation, but I'd like to see you again in a week or two, just to
see how you're adjusting. Is that alright with you?"
Benedict gave her a smile. "I don't really have a choice do I?" He nodded.
"That's fine, Counsellor. I'll see you again in a couple of weeks then." As
he stood he regarded her across the desk and gave her a curt nod. "Thanks,"
he said and turned on his heel and left.