Ten Forward NPCs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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ten_fwd2015-02-21 06:47 pm
ten_fwd_npcs) wrote in ten_fwd2015-02-21 06:47 pm
[Sickbay]: Round Eight Scans and Vaccines
O-kay, so things have been a little ... odd on the ship. Some people have been acting rather out of character, ducking their duties for romantic escapades or complaining that their good friends aren't quite themselves. Romance may be in the air, but the CMO has other ideas. Like maybe an alien pest who likes to play tricks on people. Her sickbay hasn't gone unaffected, but luckily the strange effects are beginning to wear off and people are returning to work. Still, she's prepared to treat anything.
If this is your first trip to Sickbay, you may be surprised to see that it's a fairly ordinary-looking hospital. There are no terrifying devices or humming machines you might see in a sci-fi thriller. The biobeds along the walls are equipped with biofunction monitors, but look fairly standard. Instead of silver trays filled with metal tools and sawblades, there are an array of small devices that look as harmless as cell phones. As for the staff, they're all well-groomed and friendly. As a matter of fact, all personnel look harmless. Well, relatively harmless.
If you're new to the ship, no doubt you've been escorted here by the security team. Nothing to worry about, the doctors just want to make sure you aren't carrying any viruses or are vulnerable to terrible space disease. Once you've been checked over — a quick scan from a tricorder and any necessary vaccines — you'll be free to go. Lollipops are optional.
"All right, step on in," one of them calls out as you enter. "Don't be afraid. It's just a scan and a hypospray, nothing to worry about."
[ooc: Sickbay is, as always, OTA! For new characters: tagging isn't mandatory but IC going to sickbay is. If you'd prefer to skip threading with one of our doctors, you can handwave that your character got a clean bill of health and a shot and were sent on their merry way. For those who are tagging: if you have a preference which doctor sees your character, please specify in the subject line of your tag who you would like (Beverly Crusher, Julian Bashir, Sam Wilson, Mack Gerhardt, and Merlin are definitely on deck, with possible appearances by others). There is a post up in the OOC comm with more details if you have any questions.]
Julian!
Truth be told, Tom Paris was a bit nervous.This wasn't Voyager and the doctors here weren't the EMH. For all he knew, one of these guys had been present at his court martial.
Maybe he could just give himself a clean bill of health and whatever hypo they wanted and walk out? Moseying over to a seemingly unused medical tricorder, he picked it up, and started scanning himself. Maybe all those double shifts in sickbay were about to pay off?
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"Tom?"
He was holding a tricorder just like he belonged there, but Julian hadn't seen Tom Paris come through here before.
"I do hope you don't think you'll sneak out of here without one of us seeing to you."
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Slowly putting the tricorder down like he'd been caught shoplifting, Tom tried to explain. "I'm a medic on board the ship I'm assigned too. Err--normally assigned to. You know what I mean." Okay sure, he wasn't wearing sciences blue, but apparently that didn't matter to the Captain. "I promise I won't break your sickbay--Hey, you're not still after me about that paper? I swear I turned it in."
Tom held out the tricorder for Julian. "Long time no see. What's with the snazzy uniform?"
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Julian pulls out his own tricorder, ready to take over. "I do know what you mean. This isn't exactly my Sickbay either." Considering his own posting didn't exist yet.
And you didn't turn in that paper, by the way. Julian remembers. He's not going to mention that he does, because normal people didn't remember that sort of thing, and he doesn't really care at this point. He just waves a hand. "I'm not. We've all got rather bigger things to worry about, wouldn't you say?" Considering one wrong word could break the timeline.
"We switched over to these last year." The grey shoulders were less attention-grabbing, he supposed was Command's reasoning.
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"I assume you were kidnapped too? Q's equal opportunity that's for sure. " Tom was tempted to ask 'when was last year', but he at least had some sort of reference. The stories the Doc had come back with after his adventure on board the Prometheus included the change in uniform.
Tom should have probably been a little more worried about corrupting the time line, but Voyager had been caught in temporal rifts at least three times by now. It was almost like getting shot at.
"Before you get too worried about spilling the beans on something, don't. Trust me--it wont matter what you tell me. There's nothing I could do about it anyway. The least you could do is give me some gossip. We've been a little out of touch."
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He probably wouldn't enjoy that, though he'd quickly pick up that though based on Zimmerman, the Doctor was entirely a different being, which he'd appreciate. He doesn't particularly care for Lewis Zimmerman for what he thinks are perfectly understandable reasons.
Those oblique comments do confirm one thing for him though--Tom was from after Voyager's disappearance. They'd left from Deep Space 9, of course Julian knew it had happened--they'd been the home base for searching ships until the war picked up in earnest and they couldn't spare the manpower to hunt anymore.
"There's plenty you could do about it from here. This is a temporal nightmare. You've been told what year it is?"
There's nothing of immediate concern in Tom's scan, so Julian puts away the tricorder and gets out a hypo. You're not getting out of vaccinations either.
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Tom hopped up onto the biobed, and swung his feet while he waited. He knew the Voyager had been declared MIA, and the search had been given up until the Doctor had one on his away mission and cleared up the misunderstanding. At least people would know they were alive, and Tom was slowly coming to terms with the possibility that meant his father wanted to talk to him. Actually talk, and reach out.
"Say, I don't suppose they'd let me at the helm? If I go a little stir crazy."
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"2374. And yourself?" Julian has perfected the art of multitasking, and surreptitious hyposprays--he's got the first one done moments after Tom hops up on the biobed, and is loading up the second.
"You'll have to take that up with Captain Picard. Most of us have some sort of position equal to our experience. Hence my assisting in Sickbay."
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Tom tilted his neck so Julian could get better access to it for the hypo when he was finished loading.
"But I just want to get this straight right off the bat though, alright? You are full in sickbay. The Enterprise has a full medical staff? You don't need me. Right? Right?" Tom fidgeted, praying he wasn't in hell. Would Captain Janeway expect him to use this opportunity to brush up and learn more medicine? Did he have too? Or could he just sit back and play on the holodeck with B'Elanna?
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Not that DS9 was a Starfleet station, persay. But it wasn't as if there were many other places a search mission...or a salvage one...could be based from. Luckily, they'd gotten confirmation that Voyager had survived whatever happened to make it disappear from the Badlands without a trace, but it had only been recent--and they'd been in the thick of the Dominion War.
"I'm afraid I don't have much light-hearted to report," Julian quips, sounding...forcedly chipper.
"We don't need you. We're rather tripping over each other in here."
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"Are all the Maquis really dead?" The last thing he wanted was to give his wife hope after she'd come to a sort of acceptance, but this guy lived it. He was right in the thick of it.
"Also I'm incredibly thankful you guys don't need me. On Voyager apparently those 2 semesters of biochemistry I took makes me a medic. Lucky me."
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Everything was terribly complicated.
Julian looks...conflicted at the mention of the Maquis. As an officer on the Defiant, he'd been in skirmishes with them since before the war even started. But they'd been defending their homes, and he couldn't fault them for that, not really. Even if their methods had been excessive.
"Not all of them." But the majority of them--and the organization as an idea--was gone. "But enough. Between the Cardassians and the Dominion...it was a rout."
Julian knew that they'd reestablished communication, briefly, with Voyager. And really, he couldn't say anything that Tom wouldn't be able to find out eventually.
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Now that was all out of the way, Tom leaned forward so Julian could complete his exam and give him his hypos. Even if it was a bit redundant.
"I assume you've heard what happened on the Exeter," Tom asked, unsure. And the whole convicted of treason thing, because that wasn't awkward at all. If Julian had heard, well, experience had taught him he probably wouldn't be talking to him right now.
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"I heard, yes, but I'm not about to make any snap judgements on your character." Julian shrugs--he and Tom had never been particularly close at the Academy, despite their acquaintance--little more than passing, but friendly enough. And honestly, if there's anyone completely unqualified to make a judgement call on legal or illegal activities as pertains to one's person and hiding information from Starfleet Command--well, Julian would rather be calling the kettle black, wouldn't he? "You made a mistake. You're not the first, and you'll hardly be the last."
His smile is somewhat lopsided--Tom would remember him as the unfailing optimist, and it might be a bit of an uncharacteristic expression from his viewpoint. "That aside, you were with the Maquis for what, a few weeks? A month at best? You rather got the book thrown at you, likely to set an example."
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Tom took in Julian's words, and they were almost hard to understand. But just as something had changed in Tom over the course of his time serving on Voyager, something had changed in Julian too. He wasn't nearly as much of an optimistic asshole. "You'd be the only one you know. You should have seen the looks and whispers I got when I first brought on board as an 'observer.' Like I was some kind of pariah. They weren't even that subtle really. Voyager's original CMO was downright nasty. So, thanks Julian. For not jumping to conclusions, and giving me a chance. Not too many have."
Tom shrugged, giving what his ....friend? colleague? had said some thought. " Honestly? I think they saw me as I was. I was angry and frustrated and had just been court-martialed and driven out of Starfleet, just when I decided to do the right thing. All I had to do was stay silent, and none of this would have happened. But, I didn't. And Starfleet threw the book at me. And then, I found the Maquis and they needed a good pilot with anger issues. My life wasn't going so well back then. But, all that's taught me that sometimes you need to scrape the bottom of the barrel to find out where you belong. I'm glad they sent me to prison. If they didn't, I wouldn't have ended up on Voyager."
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"You've done your time, I think. The penal colony isn't a terrible place, from what I've heard, though." At least, his father hasn't complained overly much--which Julian was sure he would have. Perhaps. He didn't seem to know his father as well as he thought he did.
"I'm certainly glad that you all made it. We...had to stop looking. When the war kicked up in earnest." He hopes Tom isn't angry about that.
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Tom gave a shrug as Julian finished up his exam. "Not terrible. The security anklet chafes a little. And at least my reputation and dishonorable discharge bought me a little street cred. Killing people goes a long way, even in a minimum security facility." Tom went on, trying to blow it off with a nonchalant attitude and a bit of bravado. What could he say? He was a good hider. Growing up with Admiral Paris made him a master.
"And I was never bored." Thats right. Always look on the bright side.
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Though he does look somewhat alarmed at the attitude. "I do hope you're exaggerating." His father was not at all the sort that would have 'street cred'. Or a reputation.
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