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Sickbay
Jan 31, 2011 21:48:40 GMT -5
Post by Cyrano Jones on Jan 31, 2011 21:48:40 GMT -5
Here is where the Doc does His/Her stuff
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Sickbay
Mar 15, 2011 20:06:38 GMT -5
Post by Lt. Cmdr. T'Lura on Mar 15, 2011 20:06:38 GMT -5
Dallas knew he had to set an example for the crew and report for physicals. Even if they are not due, a new CMO on a ship usually likes to look everyone over themselves. A “hands on” kind of thing that Starfleet training often capitalized on.
He entered the Sickbay, looking for the Doctor. He knew that some of the crew had missed the old Doctor so here he was.
“Ok, Doctor. Let’s get this thing over with. Where do you want me?”
T’Lura looked up from reading a PADD. “Up on bio-Bed one should suffice.” She replied and then set down the PADD and approached him, her face as blank as an empty canvas. “I see you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presence Captain. Maybe your example will spur others to do their duty and report for their physicals.”
She brought out an old-fashioned stethoscope and placed it over his heart, listening. She then used her hands to touch his neck between the lower ear and the jaw. A quick strike to each of his knees brought about the intended reflex responses. “Apparently my predecessor as CMO was well liked by the crew, my demeanor and manner seems to rub some people the wrong way.” She remarked shining a light into his eyes and examining them.
The doctor moved to the nearest computer terminal and brought up the Captain’s medical records silently reading through them leaving him to wait. She tapped in the results of her tests and after a few minutes she turned back to him. “Are there any continuing problems you want to tell me about?”
Dallas thought for a moment. “No, none that I can think of. And as far as the crew, Humans sometimes need to get used to people. The other Doctor was fitting in well, It is possible that some humans may not feel comfortable discuss personal feelings with you, where they could with the former CMO.”
His pupils were full of light and he needed a moment for his rods and cones to readjust.
“And I think it could also be something else as well,” He began.
“You know the nature of our mission and what we have been asked to pertaining to this ship. It’s no secret that the Vulcan council advocates the dismantling and mothballing of the entire Federation class. I believe that to do so would be a grave mistake on the part of the Federation.”
He stood, putting his tunic back on as he continued.
“Why do I have the feeling that you are not on my side here? This concerns me because because if everyone on this ship doesn’t believe in we’re doing, than the task is that much harder.”
He looked her in the eye.
“Are you here to make sure that I fail? Is that really your mission on this ship?”
He crossed his arms.
T’Lura looked him directly in the eye. “I am assigned as the ship’s CMO. I will perform my duties in respect to that position to the best of my abilities.” She answered blandly.
“I need a blood sample.” She brought out a hypospray configured to draw blood and placed it against his arms. He heard the familiar hiss as the chamber filled up with his blood.
“As for as this ship and her mission, I have not formulated an opinion as to its viability, nor would I in anyway actively undertake any actions that may cause you to fail.”
He gave her a hard look in return. For a species that claimed not to lie, they sure seemed to have a flair for being disingenuous, he knew there was something she wasn’t telling him.
“I am not yet done Captain. but if you are more comfortable with your shirt on, I see no reason not to continue with you clothed.” She waved a tricorder over him and popped out the scanner and scanned him head-to-toe, front and back.
Dallas stood while the scanners did their work. "Is that what you’re supposed to do? Formulate an opinion on the ‘viability’ of this ship? I so, that’s fine. I know the Vulcans like to have their nose in everything. But the minute you place your Vulcan agenda in front of the medical safety of this crew, that is when you cross the line with me.
“I want things above board with us. You want to call Vulcan, call Vulcan. No secret transmissions. No hidden agendas under my nose. Not on my ship. I won’t have it. I hope we’re clear on that, Doctor.”
“Crystal clear Captain. Rest assured I do nothing that would put the ship or your crew in jeopardy. And as far as calls to Vulcan…they will be…needed…upon occasion.” She continued with her evaluation.
“You appear to be in vigorous good health. You have passed your physical, with, as you humans are fond of saying, “flying colors”. Which is an obscure reference to the days when Earth’s sailing ships displayed their flag, or colors, as identification……"
“You call as many times as you need to, Dr. I have nothing to hide from the Vulcan Council. I Won’t eavesdrop either, but I DO expect to see those Communications in the Com Officer’s daily reports and logs.”
He leaned up against the bio-bed. “I didn’t mean to come in here with a chip on my shoulder, Doctor. You know how we Humans have to ‘Mark our territory’”. He smiled.
“You know, a Vulcan man I once met told me that a pet Sehlat, in the hands of the wrong trainer, can often be very deadly, but with the right person, they can often be loving, affectionate—and very protective pets. Did you have a Sehlat when you were a child, Doctor?”
“No, I did not feel the need to control a domestic animal. Why do you ask?”
“You seem to have disdain for the practice.” he worked some of the kinks out of his neck and shoulders, "It’s been quite common with Vulcan children for centuries as I understand it.
" I was trying to make an analogy. One trainer could very well harness the awesome strength of this great beast, and use it for personal gain, or vengeance. Another could just as easily teach the animal to be gentle and loving, as most are with the the children that care for them. Didn’t it start with a need for protection, especially for children living near the great forge? Didn’t Sehlats defend children against LeMatyas and other predators?"
“Yes, in the past, having a Sehlat as a companion proved to be an effective deterrent to creatures whose instincts would possibly lead them to harm the young.” She stopped and tilted her head ever so-slightly to the right. “If am correct you are attempting to compare the Alliance’s mission to a Sehlat.”
“You could say that” He said, hopping up onto the bed in a sitting position. “I’m trying to say that a ship,…..Any ship has to have the right people. The right man in the big chair. This ship is not wrong, Doctor. The problem was in the type of people thought to be best for this ship. That was the mistake initially made. Fleet decided that they needed a different kind of man for this ship. They sent me because I get things done and I make things work. So in your next report to the Vulcan High Council, You can tell them that Dallas doesn’t fail.”
He left Sickbay muttering something about why the Vulcans were so interested in this ship….
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