Scout's Honor

Posted on 06 Mar 2024 @ 10:28pm by EMH Mark X-C "Shirley" & Chief Petty Officer Katja Becker

2,839 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Episode 19 - Tomorrow's Galileo
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 3, Sickbay
Timeline: MD 01, 1710 hrs

[ON]

Report to transporter room 1 immediately…well…surely sickbay wasn’t too far from the transporter room…besides, getting an anti-emetic was paramount. Appearances to uphold and all that; can’t be puking ones’ toenails up on the first day on the job.

As the doors hissed open and Katja was greeted by obnoxiously bright lighting that hammered nails into her skull behind her eyes, she amended her list to include something for a headache as well. Too bad there wasn’t enough time…a fluid bolus would probably be beneficial as well.

“Verdammter klingonischer Wein!” She hissed as she shielded her eyes with a hand. It has been a loooong time since she had gotten so completely sternhagelvoll (wasted).

Katja’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden stop of the lift, and her stomach churned mutinously at the deceleration. The doors opened, and Katja rushed off, just to show her rebellious stomach that she was taking its protests quite seriously.

All she needed was to get to sickbay; and then the hypospray would find itself in her hands…just some anti-emetic and an analgesic for the pain. That was it…a quick in and out…and then to the transporter room. It was a good plan.

Katja entered sickbay and looked about. They often held similar layouts and this wasn’t any different…just the scale, really. Walking through the bay like she belonged…which she did…well, sorta.

Maybe it was her stomach nearing critical mass, or the incessant pounding behind her eyes, but Katja couldn’t find an unsecured hypospray, and the door to supply was not responding to the codes she provided.

A muttered string of curses followed.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for the senior NCO, sickbay was currently devoid of attending personnel and patients. The Nova-class' small medical bay - with its three biobeds, corner laboratory and medical office - were all vacant. The ship's humanoid complement were all currently assigned elsewhere at the moment due to the captain's stringent orders, which was unfortunate for any lost soul attempting to currently procure treatment.

Yet Galileo's patient-care ward possessed an ace up its sleeve, one which would potentially save this new crew member from her own demons and make her a productive, contributing asset. Perhaps.

The air shimmered behind the platinum blond woman as a ginger-haired, female holographic medical officer materialized into existence. The hologram quickly turned around to observe the new visitor. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"Mensch!" Becker yelped as a voice chimed a few feet behind her, and spun to face whoever had surprised her.

"Nature...emergency...what?" Katja countered upon seeing the red-haired medical officer. "I just need to locate the hyposprays."

Had her head not been pounding, she might have recognized that the request was the EMH's opening lines.

Shirley frowned while her green eyes observed the humanoid before her who appeared slightly...discombobulated. "Sickbay does not have hyposprays readily available to any crew member who wanders in," chided the hologram. "All medicinal applications must be authorized by the attending medical officer on duty. Which is currently me. Now, what can I do for you, Chief Petty Officer Becker?" The EMH's programming contained full biological notations for every assigned crew member, and the fellow medical officer was no exception.

This. This. Katja did not have time for this. “I require an anti-emetic and analgesic. I am capable of obtaining said pharmaceuticals without assistance.”

The color started to drain from Katja’s face. Sheisse. Her eyes darted about the immaculately organized place in a desperate search for an emesis bag.

Of course nothing readily identifiable as a ‘barf bag’ was identified in the impromptu search. Covering her mouth with a hand, Katja’s eyes widened - and in a desperate bid to not blow chunks all over the rather new looking carpeting, she raced past the EMH to the sink and promptly demonstrated the actions that brought her to sickbay in the first place. This was so not how she wanted to introduce herself…

Shirley crossed her arms then sauntered deeper into the medical ward behind the chief petty officer who'd just vomited. She might have been a hologram, but her program could detect an influx of strong ethanol emissions within the room which seemed to follow the CPO wherever she moved. "You are drunk," stated the EMH with scolding disapproval, "despite the captain's order to not consume alcohol."

Katja turned on the water and rinsed out her mouth (and the sink). "I am not drunk. I am most regretfully hung over...and I was net yet an official member of the crew when that happened and...wait, what?!"

Standing stoically while continuing to observe the new Galileo senior NCO, the EMH then tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. The new organic patient appeared discombobulated, which then prompted Shirley to gesture to the nearest biobed. "Please, lie down. I have a series of questions to ask you before I can begin to treat you. Move slowly and focus on your breathing."

Katja groaned. "Ach komm!" I just need a little zofran and some Vitamin M and we both can part ways. No need to waste time, here."

This was the second time the EMH had detected a native tongue being spoken, and its program's cognitive matrix quickly identified it as German - a regional Earth language originating from the planet's 'European' continent. "Nein. Leg dich hin. Bitte," replied Shirley in an almost perfect accent, her arm still pointed toward the biobed.

Katja frowned and grit her teeth but she begrudgingly complied. She refused to let this become some sort of 'walk of shame.' There were far worse things to feel bad about than drinking one too many blood wines.

"Your accent is horrible." Katja groused in a petty manner as she walked past the EMH and hopped up on the biobed.

Shirley audibly huffed at the disgruntled patient. "I'm a doctor, not a linguist," she forcefully refuted before procuring a medical tricorder from the nearest medical locker. Why were the organics always so...emotional? Pulling the small probe from its receptacle at the top of the device, the EMH then began to scan the chief petty officer from head to toe, slowly moving her probe hand methodically from the woman's head to her torso, abdomen, then down her legs. "You know," she casually remarked in an attempt to replicate Human 'bedside manner', "alcohol has many adverse effects on the body and its consumption should ideally be outlawed. It can cause life-threatening liver and kidney damage, oral cancer, immune system suppression, cognitive misfunction..." she started to recite from her memory databanks.

"Are you kidding? It's what fuels everything." Katja couldn't help but laugh. "Every alien culture we have met has utilized some form of intoxicant for the purpose of inducing an altered state of mind. Alcohol induces euphoria, relaxation, and disinhibition while reducing stress and anxiety. You lack the context to understand the allure, ah...do you have a name?"

The holographic doctor completed its scans of Becker then deftly placed the probe back into its holding chamber before folding the tricorder closed. Now displayed on the biobed's LCARS monitor above the patient's head was a full sub-dermal analysis of the woman's body. "I am Galileo's Emergency Medical Hologram. Mark X-C...different than the flawed and standard issue Mark X program currently deployed across the Federation," she started to lecture with uncanny pride while evaluating the fellow medical officer's blood-alcohol levels and neural patterns. "Thanks to this crew and its medical staff, my program was upgraded several times to allow for expansion and individual growth. But while you organics have treated me well, one former medical officer decided it would be best to...change my appearance."

The doctor then turned to focus her green eyes on the chief petty officer. "My visual form matrix did not always look this way, but several years ago one of the medical officers decided to...upgrade me." The EMH cupped the bottom of her breasts then gently raised them before letting them fall, then ran her fingers awkwardly through her shoulder-length ginger hair. "They believed a female appearance and voice would be more soothing to patients and offset my 'attitude'. Which, I must add, was a meritless accusation and blatant evidence of prejudice against non-organics. They also took it upon themselves to name me. Because, of course, every organic - even lower-sentient lifeforms such as tribbles - need 'names."

The EMH quickly realized she was becoming distracted then folded her arms across her chest with stoicism. "The crew calls me Shirley."

Listening intently to the EMH's recitation of their qualities, Katja wasn't expecting the direction the conversation went. Her eyes widened as the holographic medical officer ran her hands over her body, but in a clinically detached way. Which was quite disconcerting. Katja normally would have felt flattered to have another person show off the goods in such a manner, but with what the EMH was saying...

Katja sat up and blinked at the EMH incredulously. "That's...that's really messed up. I am guessing you had no say to the visual matrix changes?" Katja paused for a second. "Do...do you even want to be called Shirley?"

A rare moment of silence ensued from the hologram. Only a fraction of a second, but it was enough to be slightly noticeable to those who were used to the programmed nature of EMHs. "I prefer to be called 'doctor'," was her diplomatic response before slightly tilting her head, "but if the crew feels more comfortable addressing me as 'Shirley' - and viewing me in this present physical form - then I won't complain. Such superficial matters are not required for me to perform my duties."

"What does it matter what the crew is 'comfortable' with? They will have to suck it up. You should be called what you prefer, and you should look as you desire." Katja was getting fired up now. It kept her from thinking of her roiling stomach for a moment at least.

"Just because something isn't required doesn't mean it's irrelevant, Doktor...and in a way you're lucky. You have the option to appear in the manner YOU want to be seen. Meanwhile, us organics are stuck with the faces we were born with the most part. Can't completely fight genes."

Shirley again briefly paused, this time with a curious expression across her features. Did this crew member perhaps not recall the reason why the EMH was originally developed? "My program was created with the sole purpose of rendering clinical and emergency medical care to patients of all species and genders - Federation and non-Federation alike. That is...why I exist. If the crew feels a change of appearance will improve 'organic perceptions' of me, as I call it, and make my patients more amicable to my treatments, then it's only logical that such a change be made. I suppose...I haven't been programmed to think beyond my duties or to prioritize my personal preferences," responded Shirley while momentarily glancing away from Becker and to the ceiling to ponder the question further in its entirety.

"And how would having a figure that features in erotisch dreams make you more...approachable to the rest of the crew?" Katja retorted. It really wasn't fair...a loss, truly.

She was getting off-topic and time was ticking. However, perhaps it would distract enough for her just to receive the anti-emetic and analgesic and get going? No. Probably not. Her lot was to suffer.

"Look. I know what you are designed for. I have met AND worked with EMH's before, and I think you have enough self-awareness to warrant having a say in things. Even if you do not have any particular opinion due any programming limitations, it would have been a polite thing--in organic terms--to ask, Doktor."

Katja oozed off the biobed and looked at the holographic physician in the 'eyes.' "I'm kind of pressed for time, here. I have to get to the transporter room. Can...can I please just get something to stop the nausea?"

Shirley's green eyes quickly shifted back to the blue irises of her platinum blond-haired patient. "Yes... I suppose asking before altering my program would have been polite," the EMH agreed with a subtle hint of annoyance in her inflection. But it was done now, and there was no point recalling the past any more than necessary. Because, as the new medical officer so kindly mentioned, they both had duties to currently perform.

Training her focus back to the biobed's detailed LCARS monitor, Shirley focused on her task. "Your blood analysis appears to show you suffer from anemia. Possibly a result of low potassium and magnesium, or a vitamin B deficiency. That should be easily treatable. However, your liver appears damaged; I'm seeing elevated enzymes most commonly associated with hepatitis and signs of cirrhosis, along with high lipase indicative of chronic pancreatitis."

The EMH then creased her brow to stare her patient directly in her eyes. "How much alcohol have you been consuming on a daily basis, Chief Petty Officer Becker?" The question was stern and straight to the point.

Katja looked completely unruffled by the EMH's declaration, but managed to feign a deep thinking look. "That would explain the ongoing right upper quadrant abdominal pain."

She shrugged. "Not enough, Doktor." Katja laughed at her own joke, but really she didn't want to think about how much she had been partaking of off-duty. It was just part of the daily routine of her life. Go to work. Get besoffen. Pass out. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Katja saw the look the Doktor gave her. She wasn't gonna get out of this unless she gave the EMH an answer. "Varies. 2-3 a night I suppose, mostly."

Frowning with obvious disapproval, Shirley mentally doubled the amount in her head as most doctors were trained. Because, when dealing with alcohol, it was rare that patients would disclose their true consumption to physicians...or even admit it to themselves. "I see. Well, in that case Galileo will be a wonderful mechanism to alter your habit. As I stated earlier, the captain has declared this a 'dry' vessel. No alcohol use is permitted by any crew members without command-level authorization. But from what I hear," the EMH's voice perked up and she subtly smiled at Becker, "the selection of unique craft synthehol beers in the lounge is quite diverse."

The holographic doctor then walked to a nearby medicine locker where she retrieved an empty hypospray and a corresponding small vial of medication with which to treat the woman for her nausea. She walked back to Becker, then inserted the substance's container into its receptacle. "This will alleviate your symptoms for the next few hours - it's a mix of droperidol and ondansetron. However, you also need to hydrate and eat to continue the detox process." Shirley pressed the hypo against the woman's tattooed neck which elicited a soft hiss.

"You make it sound like I have never done this before." Katja replied in amusement.

What the EMH was describing was borderline panic inducing. This...this was not okay. She had transported enough to get her by while en-route, but that was not gonna last forever.

It was probably the first time in her whole life that she ever looked back on her childhood positively. There had been enough Norwegian families that boarded during the Ticonderoga's maiden voyage that the fine tradition of home brewing mead was brought aboard as well. Food for thought.

"Thanks for the heads up. From now on, I will be a reformed Chief." It was said in an utterly neutral manner.

Not gonna happen. She added silently.

"Excellent," replied Shirley, not able to detect any hint of sarcasm in the woman's pledge. Sometimes all a person needed was a firm talking to by a medical professional. And this was why, despite the organics' complaints about her 'bedside manner', she was the best EMH in existence, she proudly thought to herself. "Then if there is nothing more you require from me, you're free to go. I expect to see you on duty here shortly. Please don't be late for your watch; I enjoy my recreational time in the holodeck."

"Ach, Sorry Doktor. I got ordered to transporter room 1. But don't worry, I'll be back as soon I can." Katja replied and quickly hurried out of sickbay. At least now she had the excuse she needed.

Entering transporter room 1, Katja huffed a little breathless from the impromptu run. "Entschuldigung! I was just cleared from sick bay. What are the orders?...

[OFF]

--

Chief Petty Officer Katja Becker
Medical Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC M'Lyr'Zor]

EMH Mark X-C "Shirley"
Medical Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Tarin]

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