Wednesday, May 26, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241005.26 || Joint Duty Log || Dr David King, Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax


[USS Charon, Main sickbay]


It wasn't that Sakarra actively disliked sickbay. After all, it was a necessary and important part of every ship and the medical personnel was dedicated to the crew's well being. Not to mention that no Vulcan would do something as distasteful as harboring any kind of resentment.

Still, many healers had a tendency to be … overprotective which tended to clash with a species that prides itself on being self-sufficient and the ability to endure a great deal of unfortunate mishaps without blinking. To that end, there was a permanent tug-of-war between Sakarra and doctors; beginning with her dear friend Okalan who never failed to treat any small bruise as if she had been bitten in half by an angry mother-Sehlat up to Starfleet medical personnel who insisted upon unnecessary procedures every time the young Vulcan was unable to effect a timely escape.


What wonder then, that even when the raven haired young woman did have to bow to logic and come to the conclusion that seeking professional help was a prudent course of action, she did so with a mild air of … reluctance.

And this time there was sufficient cause to wish for a discreet healer. Although entirely unrelated to the reason for her visit to sickbay, even a precursory scan would reveal a multitude of minor sprains as well as a bruise or two, evidence of last night's … events. Usually these small matters would have resolved themselves long before now, courtesy of Vulcan metabolism and a trained mind capable of directing physical functions at will.

But said metabolism and mind had been occupied by something so unusual, so unthinkable … it had taken up nearly all her focus.

The Vulcan striding through the doors and into the brightly lit sickbay … had a headache.


Until now, David King had been content to leave the repairs of the medical bay to the engineers and medical technicians. He, of course, had many other responsibilities to contend with, at least for the near future. Today, however, he had decided that some of his own knowledge may help speed things along. Sure, the repairs to sickbay were nearly complete, but there was still much to do. And he would not hand over the department until it was pristine.


He was now bent over an analysis console, watching from above as one of the grunts from engineering laying underneath the piece of equipment worked to connect it to the ship's power source from behind. With his attention focused on the work at hand, the doctor never heard the doors open from the corridor.


Ah, unfortunate timing it seemed.

The only people with teal collars in the vicinity were obviously engaged in repair and maintenance tasks and even a quick glance towards the CMO's office confirmed only that no doctor was available.

It would have to wait then.

As random chance wills it, Sakarra saw a familiar pair of blue eyes glance up before she managed to turn on her heel and stride back out into the corridor. Since it would have been terribly rude to not at least greet the good doctor, she tipped her head politely and remained in place – if he was able to spare a moment, he would do so. If not, she could still leave. "Good afternoon, ohassu."


At first David's mind had not registered just who he had seen as he had quickly looked up and around, but then there was only one person on board who had ever used that title on him. As a doctor known for at least some semblance of a bedside manner he could hardly push her off on someone else; he was still the Chief Medical Officer after all.


Pushing himself up and away from the console he had been leaning over, he turned around and offered a restrained smile, "And to you, Commander. What brings you to sickbay?"


"A rather unusual occurrence as it were."

Hands loosely clasped behind her back, Sakarra was the very image of a Vulcan stoically dealing with an inconvenience. But anyone with just a little experience in reading the pointy eared race born under a blazing hot sun would have noticed a dark glint in unreadable eyes and a minute strain in the low, musical voice. "I am experiencing a most distracting pain, commonly referred to as a 'headache'."

She did not feel it necessary to mention that such a thing was all but unheard of on her home planet – unless in rare and dire cases – and it had in fact taken her several minutes to identify this odd discomfort for what it was. And it was getting worse.

 "A headache, eh?" replied the doctor as he reached down towards the tricorder on his hip. He, too, was aware of the rarity of such an occurrence, not to mention pain it would take to make a Vulcan admit discomfort. Opening up the device he held it out as he asked, "How long have you had it?"


To a Vulcan's sensitive ears, the low whir and chirp of a medical tricorder was rarely more than a lawnmower in the distance to a human – unless it came much closer, one could safely put it out of one's mind. In her current state however the lawnmower had turned into a shrieking banshee and Sakarra blinked with mild irritation.

"Fourteen point six three hours." At least that was when she had first noticed something … off. No pain yet, but a sensation akin to that tickle in your throat that you just know will turn into a full blown flu no matter what you do.

"The symptoms are progressing quite rapidly – I was able to contain any discomfort until two point two hours ago. Now they have become rather … debilitating."

The young woman's voice was as stoic as the circumstances demanded but there was a touch of reluctance to admitting such things vibrating in it all the same.


Understanding the Vulcan unease with such situations, David closed up the tricorder and moved over to a nearby medical cart and began sifting through small vials. "Don't worry, Commander, I think I have something here that will help you."


Finding the ampoule of metorapan he had been searching for, the doctor slid into a hypospray as he stepped back over towards his patient, "I'm increasing the dosage a little, given your heritage, but this should alleviate any cranial tensions. And, given the rarity of something like this, I'd like you to take it easy for a day or so. Make sure this goes away."


The young Vulcan nodded, already contemplating how she could possibly manage to take anything 'easy' while the entire ship was the exact opposite. Not to mention she found it exceedingly inconvenient that she should be experiencing this… issue ... precisely when they were about to observe a star going nova. Even for someone with a Vulcan's lifespan, such occurrences were rare indeed and to be in such close proximity when it happened – one could safely say the odds were astronomical.

Still, it would be terribly rude to not appreciate the healer's efforts and if there was one thing that had become as much part of Sakarra as breathing, it was that there was simply no excuse for bad manners.

"My gratitude, ohassu."

And she meant it, evident by every ounce of body language. After all, he could have insisted on prying or lengthy series of tests.


He offered another restrained smile and bowed his head slightly, "My pleasure, Commander. And I see no reason to mention this in my reports, it's just a headache after all, so long as you promise to return if the pain persists."


Already it felt as if the steel ring that had closed around her skull was beginning to ease its pressure – not going away, but losing substance and therefore its distracting power. But there was no question she would seek out the doctor again should this matter not resolve itself or at least become manageable – after all, he had just given her two excellent reasons to trust him. Apart from the obvious which was easing the symptoms considerably, he was as discreet as any Vulcan might hope for.

"You have my promise, doctor King."

Watched curiously by a few of the maintenance technicians who apparently wondered where the good doctor had run off to, Sakarra tipped her head politely and turned on her heel to stride back towards the doors. Perhaps she should follow the healer's advice and simply find the time to meditate rather than complete crew evaluation as she had planned. Logic suggested it would lead to more satisfactory results in the long run.


As King watched the Vulcan Commander retreat from sickbay, the doors parted before she arrived at them to admit Counselor Deela, one of the junior officers of the department and a native of Betazed. A hand was held at her temple as she stepped sideways out of Sakarra's path. Curious, he thought while his eyes moved between the two women. But headaches were common enough, were they not? It was merely a coincidence that two telepathic members of the crew happened to come to the medical bay with similar symptoms.



[End Log]


LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Executive Officer


Cmdr David King

Chief Medical Officer

(apb DK)


USS Charon