Resident Romulan

Posted on Sat 9th Oct, 2021 @ 5:14am by Makila i'Hartelhai
Edited on on Sat 14th May, 2022 @ 7:13am

1,969 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: A Good Day to Hunt
Location: Main Sickbay
Timeline: MD-1, 0900 hours

She wasn't a member of Starfleet officially, so the Chief Medical Officer of this Starbase was under no obligation to even consider her request. She needed a residency, and she wanted one here. Even though she was being educated by Starfleet Medical -- she wasn't a cadet, nor was she required to serve more than she already was. However -- Makila could feel the general sense of being understaffed in the quiet frustration and in some cases desperation of the medical staff she walked by. Her headache erupted instantly and she chewed on the inside of her lip, as she used the meditation techniques she'd been taught as a very young girl by a betazoid freighter pilot. Elliott had been his name, and she'd been fond of him. As fond as a curly headed 6 year old could be anyway. A smile blossomed on her lips as she remembered how kind he'd been to her. The pain eased a little, and Makila took another deep breath. "Still need that Vulcan. Seize the day."

Makila was relatively certain that her request would not be denied outright, but that could be wishful thinking on her part. Hope was never misplaced she decided -- her tongue drifting over lips that had been freshly glossed before she arrived. The young woman could easily appear to be less Romulan, if she did her makeup and allowed her curls to hide the points on her ears. Today was a day where obfuscation would earn her nothing but enemies, and it was better to be nothing less than her whole self.

"I am here to see Dr. Addams, please." she spoke to the young man who greeted her at the door of sickbay. She smoothed the tunic style shirt she was wearing, with brilliant blue and silver embroidery around the collar, and down the front of the tunic in two parallel lines. It also bound the sleeves. A larger floral motif of the same blue and silver wrapped around the bottom handspan of the black tunic. Blue and black boots, that came to just shy of her knee completed the look. It took the best part of Romulan design, and paired it with florals from Betazed. Most wouldn't recognize the stylized Gavalene blossoms embroidered into her clothing.

"Yes, ma'am," the desk Yeoman answered. He glanced down at the monitor on his desk, identifying who she was by the scans automatically done as she'd entered. "To your left. Follow the sound of the viola." He pointed helpfully as if she wouldn't know which direction was left without assistance.

That's peculiar, follow the sound of the viola? Makila looked at him puzzled for a long moment, before she shrugged and followed his directions. Walking down the left hand corridor, the young woman soon found out exactly what he'd meant. The faint sound of bow on strings came to her sharp ears, and she followed it until a door stood in between her and the sound. Truly, she was loathe to interrupt the outpouring of emotion in the music, and stood for a time just listening to the sweet sound.

Within, Addams looked up from her desk. "Computer, lower sound to ten percent." As the sound diminished, she called out, "Enter freely, and of your own will. Or go away. Either way, stop lurking outside the door!"

Startled out of her reverie she entered with the request for entry. The half-blood Romulan was not going to leave, especially after hearing such exceptional music. She'd been favored with a number of musical performances, intentional and not that would remain in her memory forever. "My apologies Dr. Addams. I did not want to end the impromptu concert by interrupting it with my presence."

Addams leaned back in her chair. "Hardly impromptu," she responded. "It was recorded last month. Kano's Concerto Macabre Number Three, opus 412. But I can't imagine you came to discuss music, Ms. i'Hartelhai?"

Makila was both surprised and gratified to hear her name given the proper pronunciation. That clinched it in her mind that Dr. Addams knew far more about her than she did about the unique Chief Medical Officer. "Indeed not, at pleasant as that conversation would likely be. I am quite fond of music, though I am more a vocal performer than instrumental. Today, my purpose is more business oriented."

Addams smiled. Sometime during her career she had learned to do so in a non-threatening way, but the expression still did not appear natural to her face. "I believe you and your father live close to me, in the American village? My child takes lessons from Mrs. Suzuki there. But as you say... business."

"I am certain that you are aware of the scores of every Medical Board exam that is completed aboard the station, out of sheer professional curiosity if nothing else." Of that fact, Makila had no doubt. She wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if the woman had already extrapolated her reasoning for coming.

Addams nodded agreeably. "Indeed; I am routinely copied in the reports for such. It helps when mass casualty situations arise, and we need to quickly contact and organize all applicable civilian personnel." She paused. "You were aware, I presume, that residing on a Starbase automatically makes you part of the base defense militia?"

"I wasn't actually. Father will find that information interesting." she smiled a little, imagining the indignation of her father in that regard. Interesting was NOT the correct word. "It does make good sense though, to know the why's and wherefores of everyone you can count on in an emergency."

Addams simply nodded, her faint smile sufficing for answer. Her eyebrows remained raised inquisitively.

"Romulans have an almost apprentice-like relationship with their mentors, which can become medical houses or even something resembling a standard Federation medical school. Any child that shows the aptitude can be taken on, even despite their clan's status and their personal familial ranking. Our provincial doctors often have apprentices. I have served my father in this manner since I could fetch his tools." Admitting her inexperience with the social aspect of the Starfleet way of doing things seemed to her like the best way to go about it. 'If we were on Romulus...I might have already earned my credentials based solely on his word."

"Ah, but we are not on Romulus." Addams kept to herself the further observation that, at this point, nobody but the dead was on Romulus. "Is all this by way of coming about to ask for an internship or residency, or is it a request for evaluation of your service with your father to be evaluated as such?"

"I believe the phrase is 6 to 1, a half dozen to the other?" Makila replied gently, her cheeks warming to a charming blush as Dr. Addams saw right through her. Quietly the woman admitted, raising her violet eyes to meet Chlamydia's. "I am not an adequate judge of my actual abilities. It would be professionally unsound for me to ask my father, as he has a conflict of interest and would pass me based solely on nepotism."

"I hardly think he would," Addams responded thoughtfully. "I would believe his own sense of professionalism would prevent him from releasing someone unqualified into general medical practice. That, however, is not here, however much interest there may hold as an intellectual exercise. What area of medicine fascinates you, Doctor? What keeps you up at night studying with passion and fascination?"

"Xenobiology, Obstetrics, Genetic Manipulation Therapy and Reconstructive surgery" she answered easily "Each one for vastly different reasons. I have found it difficult to find a single thing I prefer over the others, because each appeals to a facet of my own personality. I might end up a generalist, because I don't love any one specialty over another."

Addams nodded thoughtfully. "I am a board certified prenatal genetic surgeon," she revealed. "If you would like, you may be my direct resident. Or I can arrange for you to work with Dr. Dhuro, our head surgeon." She paused for a moment. "I don't suppose you have any interest in gastroenterology?"

"Some, it's as interesting as any other specialty." she said, contemplating gastroenterology for a moment. "I can step in if there is a need. There must be else you would not have mentioned it."

Addams raised an eyebrow. She'd been hounding BuPers for a gastroenterologist for so long, she'd quite forgotten why she wanted such a specialist in the first place. "Let's stick to the things you have a passion for. If you had to choose just one, which would it be?"

Choose? She had to Choose One. Her face was stricken as she pondered the question from every angle. Already she knew how to deliver babies. In fact she'd done so this very morning. She didn't need to specialize in that to do it. Did she want to take care of epidemics and babies for the rest of her life? No, but the clinic would always be there for her if she did miss it. Papa was family practice through and through, and she knew that she was not so enthusiastic though she did enjoy the challenge it sometimes brought. "Xenobiology. It's the closest to my heart, since I am neither Romulan nor Betazoid in entirety. There will be plenty of time in what i am assured is going to be a long life to specialize further if I wish to."

Addams chuckled. "You're looking at this entirely incorrectly, Doctor. You are not choosing a specialty for life. You're choosing a field you can get through for a couple of years while your competence as a physician is honed and judged before you're turned loose on your own." The Human settled back in her chair, resting her hands on the desktop in front of her. "There was a time when medicine depended on being able to memorize lists of symptoms, being able to distinguish between similar sets of symptoms, and remembering what to do in response to those symptoms. That kind of medicine depended on early choices -- even the smartest of physicians could only truly remember and affect perhaps a dozen ailments. They'd pass patients from one to another, looking for the person whose knowledge matched what's wrong with the patient."

The Doctor shook her head and flicked her fingers dismissively. "That kind of medicine is gone. Computers are much better at detecting symptoms, comparing and contrasting those symptoms, and coming up with the standard response. That's why, when we do field work, we carry a tricorder. It's the heart of diagnosis. No; what a physician needs now is the ability to think critically. Does what the computer is telling you match what your own senses are telling you? Does the recommended treatment truly match the base cause? Some physicians are little more than mechanics. Some... a gifted few... are true Doctors.

"It's my job, as Chief Medical Officer, to discern who has the ability to be a Doctor, to encourage those individuals, and to guide the mechanics in that direction as well as I can. This next phase of your education is about just that... learning how to perceive, to think, to discern, and to act. Xenomedicine is an excellent choice for exploring your ability to do those things. So finally, are you sure? Is that where you'd like to concentrate for the next two to three years?"

Her violet eyes got brighter and brighter, until they glinted like amethysts. The way Chlamydia had described Doctors. True Doctors. That was what she wanted. That made her soul burn. To show her calling and the gift she was cultivating. "Aye, I can think of nothing better."

"So mote it be," Addams answered.

 

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