Resolving Itself

Posted on Sat Jan 21st, 2023 @ 8:55am by Captain Tristan Faust & Lieutenant Commander Marc Kitchner M.D.

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Mission 1: A Fool’s Errand
Location: Deck 5: Aft Crew Lounge
Timeline: M1 MD12 (2268.27.05) 1900

The Aft Crew Lounge was one of Captain Faust's favorite hang outs and was quickly turning into his unofficial office. He enjoyed watching the stars streak past and the couches were nice to stretch out on. Perhaps one day he would pick a name for it. He was sitting, reading some reports drinking a Cortado coffee. He was expecting Dr. Kitchner to stop by any minute.

Marc often came to the lounge to do things that required deep thought, while he had a private office it was often far more peaceful here. He stepped into the lounge a stack of charts and other reports under his arm. Marc pulled out a chair and settled himself into it. "Evening Captain." The older man said as he pulled out a pair of readers from his pocket and perched them on his nose. "I'm glad we got the ladies back, all well for the most part. A few bruises, a broken collar bone and a mild weapons burn." He scarcely looked up as he read.

"Good evening Doctor," Tristan responded as he set down the report he was reading, "Yes, I am glad the situation is finally resolved. It had been a stressful few days to say the least. In three days we'll be docked at Starbase 10 and everyone can breathe easier."

"That's as fair a statement if I ever heard it." Marc turned over to the next chart. "I scheduled a two hour massage for you by the way." He glanced up to catch the look on Tristan's face. "Have you thought about our other 'problem' at all? I know I have."

"Thanks," Tristan responded and he sighed heavily, "I spoke with Dr. Meddows this morning and unfortunately the head injury didn't knock any sense into him. The only saving grace is he has no plans to press charges, so I suppose that takes Amato off the hook... I still want you to supervise his practice from now on. When I called him out on some of the fringe treatments and other things he went after me. Ranted about groping yeomen is one thing but a scandalous relationship is another." He shook his head, "The man is clearly out of his mind," he said, "I need you to sit down with him and the personnel officer. He clearly doesn't respect my authority, which is problem in itself."

"Or mine. Nothing directly insubordinate mind you, just snob-ish if you know what I mean. If I have the option. I'd like to have a chat with the sector chief surgeon first. Short handed or not, I don't want a person like that on my staff." Marc said stiffly. I know Dr. Pallister, Dawn isn't one to jump to decisions without doing her homework." Marc leaned back in the chair his hands resting on his chest with his fingers laced together. "Who is our personnel officer?"

"You don't remember Mr. Zon?" Tristan asked, "He's usually hanging around the officer's mess when you and I have breakfast. Andorian, command uniform. Any of that ring a bell?"

"I can't say I've met him, and there are several Andorians aboard." Marc said with a shrug.

"Anyway that's one headache I was hoping to avoid," Tristan responded, "But I keep giving him ways out and instead I keep getting nonsense thrown at me." He sighed and shook his head, "And the acid reflux is acting up again, think we could switch meds again?"

"We can try, but the best remedy that I know is watching what, when, and how you eat. Are you still chugging the coffee?" Marc said already knowing the answer. Tristan was drinking near 10 cups a day everyday.

"I've been drinking that damn Altair water," Tristan responded, "And Lieutenant Vox got me in these Cortado things. The acid is a lot lower than the usual tar..."

"Are you still eating and going straight to bed?" Marc asked.

"You know I barely have time to do either," Tristan responded, "Like I said, I'm glad the emergency is over... And once we get to the Starbase I wanted everyone to take some time, whether they've technically earned it or not." We've done more in three weeks than most crews do in three months."

Marc had to control himself and not give him the, 'No kidding' look. "Why do you think I scheduled the massage. The past month doesn't include the 4 months run up to the launch, so you've been going at it for a while now. I've warned you about this ... "

"Yes, yes, I know," Tristan responded, "This is why I hope our first official assignment is a tad easier than this emergency. It's also why I had hoped this situation with Meddows would have resolved itself. I guess it partially has... With Amato off the hook. Of course Meddows had to add an insulting remark to that conversation." He sank back into the couch and groaned.

"Insulting remark? What did I miss?" Marc asked curious if he'd missed the latest rumor going around. "I'm happy for Mike, aside from a weak right cross he's got a better bedside manner than most. But I digress ... continue."

"He must have a mean right cross since Meddows was loopy for days, although hitting the bulkhead didn't help," Tristan said, "He basically accused Mike of being a hothead ready to blow, although Mike is one of the calmest people I've been." He shook his head, "I don't know what it is, but I swear this guy reads the room and gets the polar opposite perspective of reality. Called me a fool for giving Toby a shift off after his concussion and then acted like I cared about his bogus command test." He started to feel himself get riled up again, "I'm going to need high blood pressure medicine after a month of this," he said.

The words, 'no doubt, my young friend, no doubt', rolled through his head. Marc had treated more than one Admiral, or company executive that was one board meeting away from a crippling stroke. "Probably." He said softly. "I would like to hear what Zon has to say on the subject." Marc ran the back of his hand along jaw. "Perhaps ... just perhaps he can see something that neither of us does."

"I hope he does," Tristan responded, "Because all I see is one giant headache."

Marc nodded in full agreement. Just then his watch beeped. "No wonder I'm weak minded. I think I'm going to turn in Tris."

Tristan nodded. "Night Unc." He watched his uncle gather up his papers and head for the door. Kitchner stopped at the door long enough for a deep breath before turning the corner.

 

RSS Feed