A Klingon and a Romulan Walk in to a Doctor's Surgery...

Posted on Sun 29th Nov, 2020 @ 5:05am by Khellian s'Siedhri MD

1,140 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Denouement
Location: Doctor s'Siedhri's Practice - Tivoli Gardens

Kahgen had barely had time to settle in to life on Starbase 109, when he found himself with an assignment that had somewhat surprised him. And, given that, he was a doctor who specialised in alien anatomy, surprise was rarely his first reaction to anything. But now, he found himself strolling along one of the promenade decks in a plaid, dark-blue, semi-formal suit with a high collar, his long grey hair loosely collected together with two wide bands, one at the base of his skull and the other about six inches further down. As he walked he glanced around at the various shopping establishments, food vendors, religious temples and other commercial lots, until, eventually, a few feet ahead of him, he spotted the lot he was looking for.

The wide entranceway was open and so he strolled, as casually as he could, into Doctor s'Siedhri's medical practice.

No one seemed to be manning the reception area and, when no one immediately emerged to acknowledge his presence, he decided that he would take a chance and wait around for a while. He'd finished his shift in sickbay about an hour ago, and thus was in no rush to be anywhere else. Although he had thought he might check out one or other of the drinking establishments. His friend, Jason Fisher, had recommended somewhere called 'Orchids and Jazz' and had been quite enthusiastic that he should try it. He wasn't sure whether the 'jazz' was literal or a metaphor - although when he'd thought about it further, he wasn't sure about the 'orchids' either - but he figured it was worth a shot. Assuming of course they didn't play Klingon jazz. (No-one wants to listen to Klingon jazz - not even Klingons!)

A gentle chime was sounding in the room above and, moments later, Khellian came down the stairs. His soft leather boots making little sound on the stairs as he descended. He was dressed simply, in a leaf green tunic with the Romulan healing symbols picked out in stark black embroidery on a eggplant purple sash that cascaded down his left shoulder and was secured by a golden broach and a trio of tiny golden chains. The scent of his dinner, a spicy almost currylike scent drifted down the stairs after the Doctor.

"How may I assist you?"

Kahgen turned as he became aware of the soft sounds of the Romulan's shoes on the staircase. He inclined his head slightly, respectfully. "I am Kahgen," he began, "son of Kol. And I am here because I understand you are the person to speak to if I have concerns about the medical wellbeing of someone in the Brown Sector?" At this point, he didn't have someone specific in mind - rather, he planned to keep the enquiry as general as possible while he established the lay of the land.

"I do run a clinic in the Brown Sector, I am not certain if that makes me the person to speak to... however if you have specifics I will do my best to assist in whatever way I can." He was surprised by the Klingon's inquiry, as he was not accustomed to the species being terribly receptive nor tolerant to Romulans. I will have to ask him how he got directed to me... Word of mouth can be a powerful thing.

Suddenly, Kahgen felt slightly cornered. He didn't want to show his full hand, as of yet, but his line of enquiry had been countered with a request for details that he had not yet thought about. "I appreciate that," he began carefully. "I should let you know that I am also a clinician," he continued, "I have had a request for aid since arriving on the station, but wasn't sure if any formal arrangement was in place. I didn't want to - how do the humans say - stand on any feet?"

"Who is requesting aid?" he murmured raking his hand through ebony hair. It had taken him months to get the level of trust he'd needed to care for people down there, and he hadn't heard either from his patients or from Makila that there was anyone else down there providing care. More assistance couldn't hurt of course, but he simply hadn't heard about it...and it was that, that he found odd.

“It was more a general request than a specific one,” Kahgen replied, deliberately evasively, “The Brown Sector is a large section of the base, after all, and it seems there are some parts that aren’t aware that such provision exists.”

"That last surprises me not at all. It took a number of months and then a meeting of chance before the Dawnstar truly began to do some good in Brown Sector. The first statement, I admit my doubts." The Romulan pinned him with a look, daring him to tell him the rest of the truth without making him challenge him for it. No general request would make a Klingon come into a Romulan's medical practice, especially not one who had from the faint distaste in his expression, had dealings with his species before. Khellian was still a touch paranoid, especially since he'd not fled far enough from his ancestral home that Romulus couldn't touch him.

Kahgen offered as genuine smile as he could manage. Misinformation and subterfuge were far from his strong points, as they were with most Klingons, but he wasn’t quite ready to be completely upfront with the Romulan doctor - especially if it meant that his offer of help might be rejected out of hand. “Let’s just say some information was passed to me,” he offered. “I took it, followed a lead or two and found myself on your doorstep, offering any assistance I can.” He paused, and allowed the smile to give way to a more genuinely serious expression, “I know you have no reason to trust me as an individual, and, as a Romulan you have even less reason to trust me as a Klingon, but - for what it’s worth - I give you my word: My offer is genuine. Where I can, I want to help.”

"If a Klingon can come to a Romulan for help, then the least that Romulan can do for his people's honor is attempt to provide that help." He sounded almost resigned to the task, even though he knew that there was some amount of misinformation there waiting to be discovered. His lips thinned as he remembered his manners and frowned. "I cannot guarantee success, but I will hear you out. Come, we will have tea."

With that Khellian turned and proceeded back up the stairs to his private dwelling. He expected that Kahgen would follow and that they could speak more freely in the comfort of his living space.

 

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