E1 Only The Beginning
Timeline: MD 02 | 1000 hours
Cabin reassignments. Optimizing cargo bays. Compiling lists of destinations in the expanse. Assisting with plotting the ship's course through the expanse. There was only so much Tim and his Operations department could handle at a time. He had hoped with the staff aboard the Galaxy class ship that he could handle it all.
What he hadn't counted on was an issue with the transporter systems failing. Engineering crews had their own issues at the moment, and unfortunately, transporter operation fell under Operations' purview. Tim had enough experience to assist the chief in Transporter Room Three as they together rebuilt the targeting sensors. In his hurry to complete the project, Tim had foolishly grabbed an EPS conduit that hadn't cooled down enough for service. The result was a rather red palm and fingertips, along with some blistering. Tim had little choice but to leave the Transporter Room and tend to his injury. Hopefully, this wouldn't take long.
Tim arrived in sickbay, holding his hand out in an effort to keep him from touching anything. Unfortunately, he wasn't watching where he was walking when he entered sickbay and ran into someone hand first. "Ouch!" Tim shouted, fighting the urge to curse at the sudden onset of massive pain.
The source of Tim’s pain quickly fell to the ground, thrown off balance by the sudden arrival of the ship’s Chief Operations Office, along with a slew of instruments from the tray said being had been holding, sending a number of scanning equipment flying to the ground along with the loud bang of the metal forming the tray. Dark brown eyes looked up accusingly from what looked to be a young human woman with dusky skin and dark brown hair.
“Are you blind or just stupid?” spat the clearly irate woman, her hand resting on the side of her head as she was nursing a bump. Her form adorned with the familiar blue of medical staff with an Ensign’s rank upon her collar.
Tim straightened his posture and looked at the medical Ensign with a bit of a dumbfounded expression. "Excuse me?" he asked. "I'll admit that I wasn't completely aware of my surroundings, but I don't think that was warranted." Despite how he felt, he knelt down to start picking up some of the equipment with his good hand.
An amused laugh emerged from the archway next to the main door as the two worked to gather up the items strewn over the floor. A series of mutterings leaving the lips of the young nurse.
"Blind then." The nurse uttered as she proceeded to take the items from the hand of the yellow-shirted officer, placing them upon her tray in short order before continuing on her way with much the same mutterings leaving her lips.
The source of the laugh though was quite another matter, as leaning with her shoulder pressed to the frame was the green-hued visage of Reilin, her shapely form somewhat hidden beneath the overcoat as her arms were folded over her chest.
"I see you're acquainted with young Ensign Abha then." The silken voice of Reilin flowed from her lips as she pushed off the frame. Seemed as though one of her first patients would be one of the Senior Staff. Her mind quickly racing as she tried to place the human's face. Pander, Riker... no she was thinking of that card shark that cost her pretty few bars during her last trip to Bajor.. Something to do with a park. The name eluded her, but his face was certainly familiar enough to place him as the ship's Chief of Operations.
Her eyes though quickly came to his hand, her nose twitching as she clucked her tongue. "Uh huh." With nary a warning, she smoothly pulled her hand out beneath her overcoat, placing a hypospray to the neck of the officer with a loud hiss.
Tim was stunned for several reasons. Between the ensign's abrasive bedside manner to having his help rejected then to a hypospray being affixed to his neck, Tim didn't know where to start. A wave of numbness fell over his hand just as his mind cleared and he realized that someone was starting to treat him. Her name eluded his as well, and he had no indication whether or not this was a person of authority. "Quite the range of personalities here, Doctor," Tim said, trying to stand up without putting any pressure on the raw burn. "What was that you just injected me with anyway?"
The green skinned woman merely gave a soft laugh. "I could tell you, or you can accept that your hand doesn't hurt anymore and come with me so I can attend to your injury lest you'd rather run into another of my underlings for amusement." The older Orion reaching out to gently pat the undamaged shoulder of Tim. "I think you'd rather prefer the latter, yes? Of course you would. Now come along."
The tune of the Orion was jovial, her hand moving to rest against his back in a guiding motion. "I'm Doctor Reilin by the way, your new sawbones. I'll try to ensure the visit has a happy ending."
He wasn't sure if he should be shocked or satisfied that the ship's doctor possessed an abnormal personality. He'd never met a physician quite like her, and he almost had to wonder if she had a twisted sense of humor that paired with that wit. Tim supposed he had plenty of time to find that out while she tended to his burns. "Commander Parker," he introduced himself, following the direction she was leading him in. "Chief Operations Officer."
"Pleased to have you, Commander. Sit down at the biobed and try to stay still." Reilin chimed as she sauntered towards a nearby cabinet, pulling it open to reveal a most... curious selection of items. A large bottle of an amber-hued liquid that she quickly opened, pouring some of it into a glass he attained from a neatly stacked series of such glassware. All the while, a pleasant tune left her lips as she also plucked a pair of scissors, some sort of square shaped device along with another wand-shaped device.
Tools in hand, she carried them towards the wounded Commander, offering him the drink as she came to his bedside. "Get this down you." With that, she carefully began to scrutinise the wound on his arm, pushing her tongue out against her cheek. "Mm, this could take a bit." Soon came the sound of blades sliding against each other as she revealed the scissors, her hands carefully working about cutting away the material of his uniform.
"What exactly is this?" Tim asked, holding the glass while turning it carefully under the bright sickbay lighting. He looked carefully at the amber liquid before trying to smell it. "You've already hypo'ed me." The smell was strong, the fumes almost burning his nostrils. "A brandy or scotch of sorts?"
"Do you always second guess your doctor?" asked Reilin, never once turning her head up from her work, though her tone was light amidst the rather grisly task of removing cloth from a burn. "No? Good, now be a good lad and have a nip of mother's milk and then you can tell me how you got this nasty looking burn." The older woman then proceeding to hum softly as she cut the cloth as close as she could dare to the burn, placing the scissors aside along with the cloth into a miniature matter reclaimator, the faint buzz of the items disintegrating as they were converted to raw materials and stored momentarily filling the air.
Tim gave the doctor yet another quizzical look though she could not see his face. "Transporter accident," he replied succinctly before taking a sip of the proverbial milk. It tasted stronger than the smell, leaving him to wonder if it would work as a paint solvent. The following thought of what it was doing to his insides was less than pleasant, leading him to set the remaining liquid aside... for now. "Not the beaming kind," he added. "I was performing regular maintenance and I was moving too fast. Burned myself on a still-hot EPS conduit."
A soft hiss left the lips of Reilin, but other than that the older Orion seemed to never turn her head away from her work, gesturing for him to take a shot.
"You're going to want to take a few more swigs of that, my boy. When I start healing it's going to itch quite fiercely. Nerves have a way of being stimulated with this method and as much as I enjoy my men squirming it's quite entirely in the wrong sense. Never really was one for sadism I'm afraid." Reilin smirked, pulling her hand up to offer Tim the cup.
"You are an odd one, Doctor," Tim remarked, before accepting the glass handed back to him. He looked down at her work, and sure enough, he could feel the urge to scratch his rapidly healing skin. Sighing, he looked back at the drink. If he wasn't on duty, he'd down it in a heartbeat. Surely he could replicate something to ease the effects when going back to the job, or he could just assign someone else to the task and he could take care of some paperwork.
Ultimately, he leaned back and took in the rest of the beverage.
"Aww, this cute young man says such adorable things." Reilin retorted playfully with a soft giggle as the soft hum of the wand in her hand filled the air between them, a veil of blue light falling over the burns with charred or necrotic tissue having any nerves dulled and then steadily broken down and the less damaged flesh slowly starting to loose its painful red hue. "A bit too quick and not heeding of surroundings though."
Parker refrained from nonverbally responding to her offhand remark. When he enrolled in Starfleet Academy, his entire family had disowned him, cutting off contact ever since. Tim had had opportunities to make friends and experience love, but he had long abstained from such pursuits in order to avoid the pain of rejection. The fact that the doctor was Orion made things more difficult, especially since Orions were biologically notorious for many things, including hiding their age. Of course, her word choice led him to believe that she was several years his senior, but he would not try to investigate. Some things were better left to a naturally-developing conversation. "How's it looking, doctor?" he asked, looking back down. He did feel the edge peeling off his nerves ever so slightly, a strong miracle from a single drink.
Reilin's eyes darted over the region, rolling her tongue against her inner cheek. "I'm thinking you should be fine, once the skin heels I'll dip your hand in a special solution. Sort of smells of aloe vera, should minimise any itching you feel after the drink wears off." Reilin explained, reaching down under the biobed to pull an armature out, sliding the tip onto the back of the wand as it was held in place. Reilin's jade-coloured fingers delicately releasing the limb before placing a material beneath Parker's hand. "Now just put your hand on this and keep it still, shouldn't take much longer. I'm going to prepare that solution."
The Orion slipped away soon after, moving with a lazy saunter to the nearby medical cabinet. This time a most curious number of vials was extracted of multiple colours, each placed into a carrier tray amidst the cheerful humming of the mature Orion. For all of her years, the Orion seemed to have an almost innocent, child-like joy in her work. "So then, are you a fellow transplant like myself, dear boy? Or one of the oldheads on this boat?"
"Hmm?" Tim muttered, trying to understand the terminology Reilin had just employed. "Oh. Transplant. Came aboard just a couple of days ago and am still cleaning up a lot of messes. My predecessor checked out during the refit and resupply process, and hadn't done a great job while he was here. The "oldheads" aren't liking me too much for it. Where'd you transfer in from?"
"Gamma Quadrant exploratory, a little Steamrunner-class ship called the Tolstoy." Reilin retorted, moving to grab a large bowl, placing it upon a nearby trolley along with her items as she wheeled it towards the younger Parker. "Not quite as nice as this fine establishment nor with quite the perks of rank." Reilin cracked her knuckles after bringing the trolley and bowl next to Tim, taking a moment to look over his hand. Yes, coming along nicely. She thought as she looked over the skin that was looking far more normal. It then she began with the task of mixing, starting first with pouring a brilliant azure blue concoction into the bowl.
"The Galaxy is very spacious." Tim eyed what the doctor was doing very carefully. "I came off one of the last Excelsiors. Starfleet chose to mothball her and send all of the crew somewhere else. I'm sorry... what is it exactly that you're doing? This isn't my first burn, but I've never really undergone a treatment like this."
"Yes, and I imagine each time you were left with itchiness and irritation from half-baked jobs. I've certainly treated my fair share of engineers and have heard enough complaining of them coming back to know that being thorough stops headaches down the line. Now unless you're taken by my good looks and stunning personality, I imagine you don't want to keep seeing my face professionally, yes?" asked Reilin, never deviating from her focus on mixing her concoction, the next one being a cloudy white concoction.
"You're not wrong," Tim replied, matter-of-factly. "I've never been a fan of doctors, much less blood and other trauma that comes with it all." Then the still-small voice of his father gently reminded him the need to remain diplomatic and tactful. After all, Tim would still have to see the doctor throughout his assignment on the Magellan. "I don't mean any offense, by it Doctor. I usually just keep to myself when I'm not tending to the myriad of requests that come through each department."
"Oh I wouldn't worry about offence, I once had a Klingon threaten to disembowel me after I clonked him over the head to stop him long enough to fix his leg that was a few hours away from gangrene, right after he got off the biobed he had been brought to." She offered easily. "Fixed the bastard's leg so happy ending, well.. save for the bar I bent over his skull." Reilin chuckled. "As for what you do, that's your life, dear boy. I'm just here to fix you up." Throughout it all, the tone of Reilin retained that casual manner, even almost sounding absent minded to a degree.
It could have been the alcohol, but Tim couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle. It was improper for a man to ask a woman her age, but Tim couldn't shake the feeling that this Orion wasn't just older than him, but had several more years on him. "Sounds like your typical Klingon. You've been around the block a bit, haven't you?"
"Oh, here and there." Reilin waved her hand about, adding the rest of the chemicals into the concoction before grabbing a clear plastic-seeming rod and quickly stirring it for several seconds. "I actually started out with the Médecins Sans Frontières, ancient little human outfit. Centuries long history, all that." The voice of Reilin flowing into a surprisingly smooth French accent as she uttered the name with a hint of fondness. "This was after my little wild girl phase of course. Good times, even if it was in the middle of the war." Reilin gently turned to look over the hand, nodding as she took the arm gently and eased it into the fluid. "There we are, now doesn't that feel good?" asked Reilin, purring the last word out.
His hand did indeed feel good--normal even--but the situation itself continued to display its awkwardness. "You definitely have a healing touch, Doctor." Tim manipulated each of his fingers, conducting a performance test of his own. "Any special instructions besides not touching hot EPS relays?'
"Yesss." The word was low in volume, drawn out as Reilin tapped her lower lip with her index finger, glancing at the details on the screen above the biobed. "How are you sleeping?"
"As well as I can be," Tim replied cautiously. "Given the circumstances that we're just fresh out of starbase and I'm still cleaning up my predecessor's messes. Why?"
"Well." Reilin responded simply, her chin cupped by her right hand as she stared again pensively at the read-outs before curling out and extending her index finger to point at the screen. "In the fine soup that your brain, I'm reading reduced dopamine levels, meaning someone doesn't get enough kip it seems. Probably one of the reasons why you made the mistake when you did. So is "well as I can be" a solid seven-to-eight hours needed for the optimal human efficiency? Especially for a man in your position where precision is mandatory? Or is "well as I can be" in terms of workholic C-Oh-Ohs?" asked Reilin, moving her arms to fold over her chest as she looked at Tim.
Tim wondered why he suddenly felt like he was on trial. "I think you know as well as I do, Doctor, that Starfleet's lifestyle can be rather demanding at times. In my case, I'm settling into my department, my duties, and even a new bed in my quarters. If anything, it's just all the stress associated with everything above."
"Yes and that's all accounted for, but I would suggest you find a way to mitigate that stress. If the pressure is so great when we are safely berthed in home territory, then imagine how it will be when we are in an emergency? Now I see nothing to go to the XO about, but take it as a friendly suggestion from your doctor. Lest the next time you find yourself under my tender mercies is something I don't fix quite as easily." Reilin's eyes seemed to harden for a moment, the playful manner seemingly freezing into something more firm and unyielding.
He nodded, taking carefully her medical suggestions into account. "Perhaps a little holodeck or gym time would do me well later, then," he suggested, taking note of her sudden gaze.
"A fine idea, or perhaps a liason with a young lady or gentleman, a good bit of exercise and is fun. If you are married I would suggest more time with your paramour, wonderful for the dopamine." Reilin's hands then moved to gently remove the hand from the liquid, gently dabbing at the flesh.
Liaisons of any kind, Tim thought, would be inappropriate until he had had a chance to truly settle in. After all, he'd only been here a couple of days. "I'll consider it," he found himself stating. One drink and his lips had already been loosened. Tim noted that he'd have to be careful with that stuff in the future. "How's it looking?" he asked, resisting the urge to wiggle his fingers.
Reilin's eyes darted over the hand once more, though to the common eye aside from a hint of redness around the region that was well on the way to subsiding, one would have found difficulty thinking that he had been burned at all.
"I'm thinking it should be fine, might feel a little stiff for the next hour but there shouldn't be any itching going forward." Reilin lowered the hand gently and reached for a PADD and stylus, quickly jotting down a few notes before pressing down on a button. "If you feel any stiffness or pain beyond that, ask for Resalamine from the replicator, take two of them, should be strong enough to dull the pain but keep you functional." She offered him the PADD. "Now if you'd be so kind as to put your thumbprint here for access to the replicator pattern we can have you be on your way, Commander." Reilin offered with a pleasant, easy smile.
"Resalamine?" Tim asked, offering his thumb to the digital paperwork. "I don't think I've heard of that one before." Then again, everything about today's treatment was quite unlike anything he'd experienced before. There was certainly something about this doctor that was unorthodox. Only further time and exposure would prove that for certain.
"I could give you the run down if you like, but let's just say its a Bolian invention. A little over-engineered but it does its job." Reilin chimed, reaching out to pat at the head of Tim. "Now, off you pop." The older Orion chimed as she turned away, quietly tidying up whatever remnants of her work there were with a playful tune leaving her lips before finally she headed back to her office with a typical Orion saunter, the disposables in hand, no doubt for the nearby matter-reclaimer.