You Scratch My Back...

Posted on Thu 27th Oct, 2016 @ 3:29am by Lieutenant Commander Lanis Dhuro MD
Edited on on Sun 10th Dec, 2017 @ 11:46pm

856 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Cloak & Dagger
Location: FCDA Clinic Administrator's Office, Deck 1400
Timeline: Just before the flight deck explosion
Tags: dhurolanis, shavlekren

Lanis changed into a set of scrubs and his white coat to meet with the FCDA clinic administrator, a Tellarite physician named Shav lek Ren. He arrived promptly but still had to cool his heels a good ten minutes before Ren came out to greet him and escort him back to his office. Lanis didn't know if that signified disrespect or poor time management. It couldn't have been a medical emergency, because Ren's business suit looked immaculate. For that reason, Lanis gave him a narrow-eyed look before standing up to shake hands.

Except Ren didn't shake hands. He looked Lanis up and down, snorted, and said, "What is this? Starfleet sends their most aged, infirm doctor to talk to me?" Then he gestured for Lanis to accompany him to his office.

Lanis blinked and followed Ren down the internal corridor. Aged he might be, but infirm? And he wasn't that aged! He arched an eyebrow at the Tellarite. "I'm still young enough to throw you if I have to," he said and hoped it wasn't complete bravado. And he hoped he wouldn't actually have to do it. Ren was robustly built, as his people typically were.

"You couldn't throw a packet of suture thread," Ren informed him and made a flicking motion in the air as they entered his office. He gestured for Lanis to take a seat.

Was the man really this rude, or was it some cultural thing? Lanis wracked his brain for everything he knew about dealing with Tellarites as he seated himself. All he could recall was that they were universally as blunt as some Betazoids--or even blunter.

"I don't have to throw my suture thread," Lanis replied. "It comes to me on the needles, already threaded. An anabolic protoplaser is quicker, though, with less risk of infection." He gave Ren a withering look. "But you don't look to me like you know how to use one of those. I doubt you've stepped into an OR since your med school rotations."

"And you should be thankful for that," Ren said. "You, on the other hand, are a Fleetie out of uniform and look like some ex-Resistance grunt. Did you think you could come here and make me forget you were Starfleet? Not a chance. What is it you want, old man?"

"I came here in scrubs to show you I'm a surgeon who won't tolerate having his time wasted," Lanis retorted, "and it has already been wasted to the tune of about thirteen minutes. Care to make it fourteen?"

"Perhaps your time has been wasted; mine has not," Ren replied. "You said you had a request to make?"

"We need to request the use of some of your OR's, the less energy-dependent, the better. Our power systems are unreliable, including the back-up generators and batteries. How is your power system holding up?"

Ren sniffed. "Shoddy Starfleet craftsmanship--"

"More like disgraceful CDA maintenance, if you ask me," Lanis shot back. "What have you people been doing with this base since the Dominion War?"

"More than Starfleet's been doing with it," Ren pointed out. "Our power systems are about as bad as yours. Did you really expect to hear anything different? We're on the same starbase, using the same grid, after all."

"Can't blame a man for hoping," Lanis said. "Look, one of our OR's is not functional at all; it didn't even have lights by the time I left to come down here. Whatever's happening is happening faster than the Ops people can keep up with it, and they're working their fingers to the bone, trying. I've seen areas of this base where the only things functioning are devices that work independent of the base power grid. I think we're going to have to work together."

"I don't give largesse to beggars," Ren replied. "Our pharmaceutical replicators are working about as well as your disabled OR. Perhaps you would deign to trade services?"

Lanis thought a moment. "I think Dr. Addams would be agreeable to that. Give me a list of drugs you need and quantities, and I'll run it by her."

"That sickly, emaciated female is still alive?" Ren said in a shocked tone as he went to his desk and began tapping his short fingers over the screen. "I was certain she must be dead of starvation by now. Doesn't Starfleet feed its personnel?"

"Not really," Lanis said. "The replicator hasperat here is terrible."

"You think that's bad? Try the plomeek soup. I swear, it'd make a Vulcan cry--"

The rest of what Ren had been about to say was cut off as the entire starbase shook, like a building that had been hit by a ground vehicle. Ren grabbed at his desk and stared at Lanis. "What was that? Are we under attack?"

"I don't know," Lanis said slowly, "but I think we'll both be getting a lot of patients, very soon."

"I'll have OR's 5 and 6 cleared for you," Ren said and handed Lanis the pharmaceutical list. "Good luck, Doctor."

Lanis sighed and stood. "Good luck to you, too. I think we'll all be needing it."

 

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