Person Healer, People Healer

Posted on 13 Oct 2014 @ 8:29pm by Lieutenant JG Wakeham Paul Alasia Ph.D. & Commander Allyndra illm Warraquim

2,381 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo, Intelligence Offices - Deck 5
Timeline: MD10, 2020hrs

[ON]

As Paul read through the accounts of the previous days aboard the Galileo, he recalled the first time he read through his Bible for study in high school. Like any book, Paul figured it best to start at the beginning.

Genesis 33 is the workmanlike account of a reconciliation between brothers Jacob and Esau, Jacob's family and the progress of their journey across the holy land. And then Genesis 34, the same prosaic rhetoric weaves a narrative - in the second sentence, no less - of the rape of Dinah described in shudderingly dispassionate detail before turning some 18 verses later the slaughter of every man that lived in the city where it occurred.

One mundane sentence to recount the rape. Another later to recount the genocide.

The completely incongruous shock of that first reading always stayed with Paul. Presently, his reading of the ship's internal blotter recalled those early studies. Buried in a report regarding the treatment of casualties following the most recent away team visit to the Lyshan caves (a bizarre read unto itself) was strange - and strangely dry - language; a circle Paul's brain couldn't square. In preparing an addendum to the first contact report he was filing with Starfleet Diplomatic Paul stumbled upon the sanitized and utterly flavorless declaration that "at that moment, the Mission Advisor briefly brandished her weapon. Surgery for Crewman Hex was subsequently deemed unnecessary and alternative treatment was brought to bear."

That those lines were included among the dozens of other technical details and data entries cataloging the nature of medical procedures, start times and recovery times sent Paul's head swimming trying to recover whatever long lost subtext begat that utterly bizarre collection of sentences. He always knew his utility to the ship would be limited in moments like these but at that moment nothing could stop him from wondering just what in God's name was going on two days ago and if he wasn't in dereliction of duty having not been present.

Paul reached for his combadge, gently nudging a tribble to the far side of his side table. He re-attached it to his wrinkled uniform shirt and tapped. "Alasia to Dr. illm Warraquim." Paul prayed he was pronouncing the Doctor's name correctly.

Allyndra was doing nothing but laying on her bed in a nightgown when the call came. She was frankly bored but she had taken herself off duty. It had probably been a mistake for not only was she bored but her left hand where the fingers where growing back itched something fierce. She wondered a moment what this was all about but rolled on her side and fetched the badge on the night stand. Another one who used her Guild name as a surname. She sighed and then replied =^=This is Allyndra=^=

"Ma'am, I know it's not your shift - and honestly that may be just as well - could you spare some time to speak, briefly?"

Allyndra let the commbadge button go and groaned. Now what? she wondered. Normally she would just say no, she was after all on medical leave for now but she was bored inside these walls so she pressed the call button again.

=^=Alright, where and when?=^=

=^=I know it's late. Can you meet now? My office, maybe?=^=

=^=Give me fifteen minutes and I will be there=^= Allyndra replied and flopped back on the bed. She was going to get really blood drunk one of these days she promised herself. Well, that would be sometime right now she got up and removed the nightgown and prepared a fresh uniform.

She tied her hair back and then checked the mirror and made a longing glance at the flagon of blood wine sitting on the table. She sighed and headed out.

Intelligence Office - Deck 5, 2105 hrs

Paul sat behind his desk, he picked up a PADD and absently read the report from days earlier. He eyes barely glanced the screen as he was trying to pass the slow moments. After what felt like an eternity, the door finally chimed.

"Come in, Doctor." Paul called out.

Allyndra took a little more time than she wanted trying to find the office but she arrived within her allotted time.

"Commander, thank you so much for seeing... Oh, my! What happened to your hand?" Paul immediately clasped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment. "That was extremely insensitive, Doctor. I'm so sorry." Paul blushed a deep red at his faux pas.

Allyndra glanced at the bandaged hand and then put it behind her back. "An incident in the past mission," she said quietly. "How may I help you?"

Paul sighed. "I think in a way I'm curious to see how I can help you, actually." Paul's spoken words drifted into a thoughtful look. "Sorry, I don't really know how to broach this topic. Please take a seat." Paul gestured to the chair across from his desk.

Allyndra did so, partially unfolding her wings. Backed seats were never made for someone like her but she had gotten used to things. Her focus though was what was up with the Intel officer she now faced across the desk.

"Ma'am, I've not been in Starfleet very long." Paul said meekly. "Despite these pips on my collar, I didn't even attend the Academy. I thought I had some vague idea of what I was getting myself into and now... I really... I'm not sure."

Paul raised his hands in front of his chest palms out in a gentle but slightly defensive posture. "Even as I'm asking this, I know it's none of my business. Medical is your shop and I don't want to step on any toes. But reading the report on what happened in sickbay a few days ago... I don't know what to make of it. I know that I'm no one to you but... can you give me any insight into what happened? Are you ok?" Paul paused and looked intently at his Akkadian colleague. He leaned in with wide eyes and he spoke nearly in a whisper: "What the hell have I gotten myself into here, Commander?"

Allyndra really did not want to bring this topic up again and she had not decided yet what to do beyond what had been done. "Hopefully nothing at all. I will tell you that as of this moment there has not been any entry formally made in my medical log and thus I will not talk about anything that maybe be recorded or noted. I am sorry if this does not help you very much." Allyndra made a formal tilt of the head and began to stand. She paused, "However, if un-official, not recorded and completely off record?"

"Oh, Commander. There is no record. Unless you're planning on assassinating a world leader, this type of thing is not within my official purview. I'm ashamed to say, I called you here for somewhat selfish reasons. From outside the black box, the end of this mission was very, very strange. I've been reassured the strange is very much the order of the day in Starfleet but frankly, that feels like people toeing the company line. I've read many times that thanks to the organizational structure of Starfleet, doctors are often good sources of honest information. That would appear to be doubly so since, from what I've read, sickbay has been the fulcrum of a lot of weird happenings. I know that I'm no one to you; but you have - for what it's worth - my absolute, strictest confidence on this matter."

Allyndra sat back down with a nod of the head. "Yes, indeed, the ending of the mission was indeed both exciting in some respects for my staff but I must say that personally I will say I do not find satisfaction with the encounter in the mines. I cannot help but wonder what the long term implications of the decision to give the entities found there the tribbles to inhabit might be." Allyndra looked at the man across from her with interest, "or are you more interested in the sickbay incident?"

"To be honest, I find the resolution to the mission to be a little... strange. A novel idea, certainly. I mean, out here in deep space, a little improvisation would seem to be called for. I don't have a particular problem with it either officially or unofficially. I would like to have been consulted, but I was offered the chance to go on the away mission and I declined. I thought I would get in the way. Given that, I can't very well complain now that I'm not part of the decision making process after the fact."

Allyndra gave a little nod. It was a well reasoned explanation. "I agree a novel thing but perhaps from my cultural perspective too hasty though at times needed. We made mistakes in our past that resonate to this day about decisions made without enough thought." She shrugged slightly, "Well done is done and it will play out as it will."

Paul continued: "So, to answer your original question: yes, the sickbay incident was what I was primarily referring to. Between the weirdness of the official reports and some rumors I've heard about the fallout. It's... troubling. It was my understanding that if nothing else, Starfleet culture had a deep and abiding respect for the sanctity of medical practice. I feel like the reports I've read here don't reflect that. I expected something more like a receptive and benevolent dictatorship. To be perfectly honest, I'm frightened. I'm trapped out in space with these people and feel ill-at-ease. Without having to give too many details or without saying anything damning about anyone in particular - you're a senior officer. Is that sickbay mess... is that what Starfleet is like or is this unusual?

Allyndra searched the officer's face. The subtle nuances, muscles movements that with her compound eyes sensitivity to motion were much easier for her to detect. He seemed genuinely honest in his question. "A part was not enough leadership within sickbay. To be fair, Doctor Olsam has not had to deal with that many patients at once, myself I was injured but should have done more. We are going to work on that very soon. As for the rest, emotions and the situation resulted in a very unusual situation. I think though it has allowed us all to realize now in the cooler light of a new day that many things will have to be dealt with better. If anything that is what I would hope that Fleet is about, learning and improving."

She took a deep breath, "The Federation has its problems and it shows in Fleet. However, so far what other large alliances there are have to my mind not seemed to be any better with the exception of the Dominion. Yes, they could be ruthless but the planets and cultures once incorporated worked with high efficiency. However, they are mostly gone now. The Guild Council of Akkadia still asks my impressions and thoughts on whether to remain allied to seek something else. I don't think I will change my impression yet."

"It's a relief to hear that. I don't need the people aboard this ship to panic or wring their hands of whatever. But, I don't know. I need my dictatorships benevolent I suppose." Paul ran his hands through his hair and scratched near his right temple. "I apologize for taking a difficult situation for you and making it about me. That's bad form and I know that. And I can't thank you enough for seeing me and really, just your service in general."

Paul paused a short moment. "On your hand." Paul motioned with his head. "Is that permanent or can they regenerate it?"

Allyndra stiffened slightly. She really did not want general information going around. It was already too late and the Council itself had given permission and thus make some things somewhat public. She displayed the hand. The fingers where sill growing out.

"The digitus medius, annularis and minimus manus were completely severed," Allyndra pointed to the three thin and shorter ones. "Akkadians regenerate, but it is not by evolution. It was a gift given to us by long gone ancestors. A secret hidden away and only recently was I given permission by the Council to look into the archives on how it was done. I tried it on Lieutenant Kohl, with his permission," Allyndra added that hastily. "To repair his spinal injury but the technique was not entirely successful."

Allyndra put her hand back down and cocked her head, "The way you see me will be the way I will look until the last year of my life. The same for all Akkadians, we will neither age or grow sick due to that gift given us."

Paul sensed the doctor's discomfort. "That is... that's one of the most incredible things I've ever heard. I'm ashamed to say I'd never even heard of your people before I came aboard. I'm really happy to know that you're recovery is imminent." Paul stood. "Doctor, I really can't thank you enough for seeing me. I think I've been quite nosy enough. You've been very generous with your time. I doubt I could ever be as helpful to you but if there's anything you need - now or anytime in the future - I hope you won't hesitate."

Allyndra made a polite nod of the head. "Thank you, I only ask that such as this is not generally bandied about. While I hope to be able to perfect the treatment, the consequences if widely known could have terrible repercussions. "While this," Allyndra held the hand up again, "was a gift and a good one, there were many terrible ones in our past. Because of that we are cautious about what the consequences of actions might lead to."

"I understand - you have my absolute confidence, Doctor."

"Anyway, please feel free to talk to me at anytime about anything. Good evening."

"Thank you. Very much."

Allyndra stood and made a little curtsey, then turned and left.

[OFF]

Lieutenant (jg) Wakeham Paul Alasia, PhD
Diplomatic Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Commander Allyndra illm Warraquim
Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

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