Officially...

Posted on Wed Apr 9th, 2025 @ 9:54pm by Captain Tristan Faust & Lieutenant Michael Amato & Lieutenant Commander Marc Kitchner M.D.
Edited on on Wed Apr 9th, 2025 @ 9:57pm

880 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Mission 5: The Price of Paradise
Location: Deck 7: Medical Division
Timeline: M5 MD10 (2268.08.02) 0235

"Look Dr. Kitchner," the young doctor said as they entered the Chief Surgeon's office, "I know, you want answers... But this is far above my pay grade." The doors closed behind them. He took off the surgeon's cap and wiped the matted brown hair off of his olive brow.

Marc glowered at his protege hard enough that Amato took a half step backward. "A man is comes into my Sickbay damned near beaten to death by the looks of him, and 'answers' is all you can think of. Answers are the minimum." He punched the ship wide intercom button built into the desktop. "Captain Faust, Lieutenant Miyake report to Doctor Kirchner's private office on the double ... ", Marc repeated himself twice more before closing the comm.

Marc turned and opened the cabinet behind his desk with the intention of pouring himself a drink, but as he set his hand on the bottle he thought better of it.

After a few minutes the doors opened and Captain Faust stepped inside. The Captain's expression was stern and mildly annoyed. The ship was enroute to the astroid field and this was another unnecessary distraction. "Yes, doctor?" He asked in an even tone.

Marc pressed a button on the desktop locking the door. "Captain, a few hours ago what was left of a 6 foot 4, 260 pound Orion was brought in here. He was beaten within an inch of death. Fortunately for him he caught us mid shift change." He took a deep breath and held it for a long moment. "He's critical but alive, and it took a dozen of us to do it." Kitchner rose both hands until his fists were eye level and shaking with anger. "Captain, I sware to you on your aunts grave here and now. I want a full and complete explanation, or I will ... I will ... be filing a report with every medical officer and piece of brass from here to Earth!!"

"First, unlock that door," the Captain responded in a stern tone, "This is my ship and I will not be lectured, by anyone... Second, we needed the location of the Xenoderm and Starfleet Command, from Admiral Fitzpatrick himself, has given me complete discretion to complete our mission." He was dead serious in his tone, a far cry from his usual flippant tone.

"Thomas Duncan Fitzpatrick?" Marc asked equally as cold. Tristan just nodded sightly. "That pretenses bastard would give a card blanch order." He half said aloud. "Xenoderm ... that's only used to treat Regulan Bloodworm Fever. I haven't heard of an outbreak in 10 years, probably longer.

"Until now, the New Paradise Colony," Tristan responded.

With those six words it all began to fall into place. "And with the colony being a half parsec inside the Romulan Neutral Zone, it had to be kept quiet. Hence no medical alert." Marc looked at his godsons eyes, it all made sense. "The Orion black market probably had enough Xenoderm to do the job, but they weren't willing to sell just to stick it to Starfleet."

Tristan nodded again.

"This is a top priority situation for Starfleet Command, an outbreak like this is bound to spread through the area... Admiral Fitzpatrick is worried the Klingons may take advantage of the situation, and claim some disputed worlds," Tristan responded, the tone in his voice relaxing, "He's the only one with enough braid on his cuff and the head on his shoulder to authorize a mission like this... He said he knew the situation would be in good hands with us.

Marc reached out and unlocked the door. He pointed to Amato. "Step out. Please." He waited until the door closed behind him. "Tris I hope you can forgive an old man who could see the trees but not the forest."

Tristan sat down in one of the chairs across from the desk, "You aren't the only one caught up in the moment," he said, "I am well aware I've violated several regulations and a few treaties at this point... But given interstellar law we could have just hanged the Orion as a pirate... But that wouldn't have solved anyone's problems." He looked up and noticed the half open liquor cabinet, "Have a cure for a headache?" He asked.

Kitchner couldn't say anything at this point. His head was swimming with the possibilities and it all sounded bad. Marc reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. He filled both glasses about half way before handing Tristan one of them. "I'll never get used to this black ops and back door stuff." Marc said before swallowing half of his glass. "Poor Amato was trying to tell me without telling me just now, and I was far from willing to listen to the boy." He finished his glass. "I'm sorry kid. I suppose I'm still used to being the top dog versus 4th. Forgive me but don't forget, okay."

Tristan waved a hand, "Don't worry about it," he responded, "At the end of the day, you're here to keep me from completely losing myself in these situations... It's incredibly easy to go over the line and I know I bent quite a few this time..."

Marc poured them both another drink and nodded. "Back to work ..." He left the question unfinished.

 

RSS Feed