Mangez Bien!

Posted on 29 Dec 2013 @ 3:05am by Lieutenant Olsam Mott & Lieutenant Teth Miir

3,247 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 05 - Solstice
Location: Cafe Scossa, Paris, Earth
Timeline: MD 05 - 1230 hrs

[ ON ]

Now that Olsam was officially assigned to the Galileo as its Assistant Chief Medical Officer, his personal PADD never seemed to cease beeping at him. There were alerts about the status of the refit, changes in duty shift, transfer of cargo and personal effects and the reassignment on and off the ship of various crew members. The latter was really the only thing he paid any mind because he wasn't an engineer or an operations specialist or anyone who had to worry much about anything beyond Sickbay. But personnel... Oh, Olsam Mott would jump on that. Yes, indeed, he was nothing short of a one-Bolian welcome wagon, my friend.

When the alert came through about Lieutenant Teth Miir's assignment to the Galileo as a counselor, there was something about the name that triggered a memory; the Bolian didn't exactly have an eidetic memory but something just short of it. Further investigation of the Caitian's personnel file revealed they hadn't served together at any point. A little more digging turned up the link: Olsam had read the counselor's master's thesis while serving aboard the Tranquility.

Without feeling the need for more pretext than that, Olsam had sent Lt. Miir a message inviting him to Paris for lunch. One of the benefits of living outside the sprawling city was that a short train ride of half an hour or less brought him into its heart, where he often arranged to meet with friends or colleagues. It was convenient for them, too, given the number of interplanetary transports running between the Federation's administrative center and San Francisco.

Olsam was early to the meeting and had taken the opportunity to enjoy a mug of hot cocoa in Cafe Scossa's heated outdoor seating area affronting Place Victor Hugo, a large rond-point along the Avenue Victor-Hugo not too far from the road's beginnings at the Etoile. It was easily one of his favorite places in the city - the fountain at the center of the rond-point and the gray paving stones lining the ground were beautiful and underscored all the elegance and grandeur that was La Ville-Lumiere. Its proximity to the Champs-Elysees made it easy to make one's way to the city's more well-known attractions, but it was still far enough away to be of little interest to visitors and tourists.

While taking the last drink of his hot cocoa, it suddenly occurred to Olsam that Victor Hugo was a Terran name.

"Huh," he said aloud.

"Is something wrong, doctor?"

The Caitian appeared next to Olsam with a quizzical smirk on his face. It had only been a short walk from the transport station and Teth was still in civilian clothes, a drab gray suit with a purple sweater vest- something a human colleague had once told him made counselors seem more trustworthy. He didn't quite understand how it would help, but he figured it was worth a try.

"Oh, no. Not really. I was just thinking that this is named after a person. I've been coming here for years, and never realized 'Victory Hugo' was a human. I just thought it was...a name. I mean, it is a name. But I didn't think it was a person's name, see?"

Teth smiled and offered his hand to the Bolian in greeting.

"I'm counselor Miir, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Where are my manners?" Olsam said, standing up and shaking the Caitian's hand. "Dr. Olsam Mott, very pleased to meet you. But please, just call me Olsam off-duty, Dr. Olsam in Sickbay. I'm afraid I'm just not a very formal person." He motioned to the opposite seat at the table. "Will you join me, please?"

Teth sat and studied the Bolian's face for a moment, vibrant blue and he thought he could make out creases caused by excessive smiling. While it would be imprudent to jump to any conclusions without for firm evidence, the counselor got the distinct impression that Olsam was a genuinely happy person. And a genuinely happy person was something he rarely encountered in his line of work.

"That's quite alright, Olsam. In truth I've never cared much for all the formality and pomp in Starfleet."

"Oh, gosh, me either! 'Sir' this, and salute that. Anyway, have you spent much time in Paris?" Olsam asked, shuffling a paper menu across the table to his guest. "I noticed in your personnel file that you're from Dusseldorf, not too terribly far away. Although, I guess I've never been to Dusseldorf myself... Hm. What's there? Maybe I should go. I've got a lot of time on my hands these days, and..." He stopped himself, realizing he was rambling. He cleared his throat. "Sorry. My colleagues tell me I talk a lot."

He sighed as he picked up the menu, wishing his French was better until he noticed the back of it was in standard.

"It's quite alright! No need to apologize, I listen for a living.... As for your question, I visited here a few times with my family as a child. It's a scenic city, it lives up to it's romantic reputation."

Teth stared down at the menu for a moment, considering an order of Coq au vin.

"I suppose Dusseldorf is just a lot more dense than Paris. It has beautiful, ancient architecture mixed with modern, sprawling archologies. There is also a very lively nightlife there, you should visit if you get the chance."

Olsam nodded, listening attentively. He thought he could be a good counselor. Maybe. He'd suggested it once to his brother, but his brother told him he talked too much. "I love seeing the Terran archologies; they're a bit more inspired than their Bolian counterparts. Nightlife? Hm. You know, I'm getting a bit old for nightlife. The last time I went dancing I nearly ripped a tendon in half."

Teth handwaved the Bolian.

"No one is ever too old to have fun. Maybe you just became overzealous? I have a great grandmother who is a champion at Shrr'ka Nrrr'va- it's a Caitian martial art. Though I've been told by humans it looks similar to a form of dance referred to as 'break dancing.' In any case, you're only as old as you feel."

The waiter finally approached, demonstrating the typically Parisian attitude toward customer service, and took their order. Olsam requested an absurdly out-of-season over-sized Nicoise salad with artichoke hearts, a cup of black tea, and three different types of pastry to cap his meal - bichon au citron, tarte de pommes a la Normande and a mystery macaron, as he wasn't entirely sure about the flavors attached to it. The waiter, seemingly familiar with Bolian appetites, didn't bat an eye.

Teth just smiled at the waiter and ordered, "I will have Coq au vin and a water, please."

"I'm glad you were able to come down," Olsam said, clearing his empty cocoa mug out of the way. His cheeks had flushed slightly at his shipmate's modest order; he only ever felt at home at the table when among other Bolians. "I have to say I'm excited at the prospect of serving on such a small ship. You really get to know one's colleagues. And I imagine from a counseling point of view, it allows you to dedicate more time and attention to your patients, yes?"

"Indeed." Teth replied as a waiter set a glass of water in front of him, "I was previously posted on the Glasgow, which is a galaxy class. And before that, I worked at the psychiatric unit of Starfleet Medical in San Francisco. Needless to say, there were many patients to care for and not a lot of time to spend working with individuals for very long."

Teth picked the three lemon wedges out of his glass and laid them on a napkin. The Caitian disdain for citrus was reasonably well known and he almost wondered if the waiter had put it in his glass to spite him.

"Where were you posted previously?"

"I was on the Galileo for three years in the Beta Quadrant most recently. The Pulsar for a year before that; the hospital-ship Tranquility for a couple of years prior. I did fellowships on the Hope and Starbase 515 after my residency with the Institute of Pathology." Olsam eyed the water glass and then finally decided to take a sip. "It was actually on the Tranquility that I read your master's thesis. We were mostly on post-conflict duty, so we dealt with more than just a handful of post-traumatic stress cases. I'm a much better physician than I am counselor, so I did some light reading on the side to try to improve my bedside manner."

Teth chortled at the doctor's last comment.

"You considered 'Stress Response and Dissociation Among Survivors of Psionic Attack' to be light reading? To each their own, I suppose. None the less I am glad you enjoyed the read. I never looked at Betazoids the same way after writing it, though."

"Well, not light reading in that it wasn't an impeccably written thesis," Olsam said, correcting himself. "I'm just an avid reader, I meant. The Federation is so large and advancing so quickly that if you don't find time for reading the journals then your techniques are suddenly quite primitive. As you say, I think it wasn't until the liberation of Betazed that we all fully realized the destructive power of psionic abilities."

Olsam spared a longing glance toward the kitchen. He was concerned his stomach was going to start growling, which for his species meant people three cafes over would be looking around for the seismic event.

"You mentioned the psych unit at Medical," he said, almost lowering his voice like it was a forbidden subject. He'd only been there for a few weeks during his psychiatric rotation in medical school, and it had been an eye opening experience. "You must have really found your calling if you were able to serve there. My psych rotation there pretty much scared me away from counseling."

Teth shifted in his seat and looked over his shoulder before replying. Even after hundreds of years of reform and enlightenment, even after basing his entire career off of it, he knew that mental illness was still an unspoken taboo for many, himself included in this particular instance.

"I actually spent some time there as an adolescent." he said, sipping his water, "My mother was serving in Starfleet at the time. When I was fourteen I had a somewhat traumatic... incident. Suffice it to say, I don't think I would be the man I am today without the help of some very skilled counselors and therapists who helped me through it. That ultimately inspired me to pursue this line of work."

He sipped his water once more, feeling unable to quench the desert in his mouth. He felt rather shaken even mentioning the attack and wondered if is hair was standing on end. It made him think of he room mate from the academy. A pudgy Andorian who told him that anyone who wanted to work in the psychiatric field must be crazy themselves. Certainly Teth knew he wasn't crazy, he was slightly neurotic at worst. But the snarky comment from so long ago still had a ring of truth to it.

"Of course it was very different being there in the capacity of a counselor. It was actually quite enlightening. I had the opportunity to work with many brilliant minds there, both the staff and the patients."

Olsam almost squirmed in his seat. After all these years of sticking his foot in his mouth, he'd not yet grown accustomed to the social awkwardness it generated. Thankfully, their server returned with the food before he was forced to respond. The Bolian's four dishes took up the vast majority of the table-space, leaving just enough room for Teth's chicken dish.

After arranging their respective spaces, Olsam had recovered from his embarrassment enough to push forward.

"I hope I didn't offend you," he said, cautiously, while fiddling with the tarte that was resisting his efforts to cut it into more manageable pieces. "I didn't mean to imply any negative connotation of mental illness; it's just definitely not something for which I'm well-suited to treat. The complexity of the mind is...difficult for me to address. I much prefer pathogens and the like - things I can see."

Teth poked at his meal as Olsam spoke, it was plainly obvious that he had inadvertently made the Bolian uncomfortable.

"My apologies, Olsam, I am occasionally prone to over sharing. But everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. But my time at Starfleet Medical and my previous ship definitely did provide many challenges and opportunities."

The counselor weakly attempted a smile to indicate that everything was fine, but as a Caitian he always feared it might seem more like a snarl.

"Well, I imagine Galileo will represent a change of pace from both Medical and the Glasgow. I can't even conceive what it's like being on a Galaxy-class. All those people! I'd think by the time I learned all my patients' names, it'd be time for me to rotate out somewhere else."

"That's true enough. It definitely felt impersonal at times. I often wondered if I could make a difference at all considering how thinly stretched we were."

Olsam gave a sympathetic nod as he finished up a bite of pastry. "It's much the same as a physician, I'm afraid. It can begin to feel functional. Patch up patient ABC, move on to patient XYZ." After polishing off one of the pastries, he began to mix up his salad to his liking. "Do you have a specialty or research interest, counselor?"

"Hmm, indeed" the Caitian said trying not to choke on his food as he spoke, "I specialize in combat related post traumatic stress. I was only there a few years ago, and we were still working with a lot of patients who had fought in the Dominion war. And of course, different species handle it differently. Not to make too many sweeping generalizations, but Andorians, for example, seem to cope with that kind of stress a great deal better than Humans or even Vulcans, oddly enough. But no one is impermeable. I even had a Klingon patient once."

Stabbing at a potato on his plate, Teth smiled a little as he remembered said Klingon. Her name was Rorthra and she once pinned him to a wall and tried to stab him with a fork, screaming that he was a Cardassian pathak.

"What about you? You mentioned pathogens earlier?"

Olsam's eyes widened suddenly at the mention of a Klingon patient. He'd never had to work on a Klingon that wasn't already sedated; he imagined it was not an easy experience, nor for the faint of heart.

"My certifications are scattered enough to make people think I have no focus," Olsam said with a grin, taking in a big bite of salad. "I did xenobiology at the Academy; internal medicine at Starfleet Medical; pathology for my residency; and then a two-year fellowship in emergency medicine, traumatology and critical care. I actually have quite a bit of experience with humanitarian and post-conflict situations, but truthfully I'm most at home in Sickbay on a starship. You aren't dealing with masses of people there, and you can form relationships with your patients that promote healthy living."

He smiled and stuffed an oversized bite of pastry into his mouth, bringing a sort of irony to his last statement about 'healthy living.'

"I trained as a field medic in the academy. Not that that compares to your expertise, obviously. But I always rather enjoyed that kind of work. I was part of a volunteer civilian rescue squad while I was working at Starfleet medical. I had a lot of fun there."

"Field medicine can be a lot of fun," Olsam said, nodding in agreement. "I mean, fun as in...medical fun. It's not actual fun when someone is bleeding. Unless you're a Klingon, maybe. We'll have to keep your training in mind. I understand the ship's medical staff is small, and I imagine easily overwhelmed in an emergency."

"When things really get bad, every hand helps." Teth agreed.

"Do you have plans for the shore leave? It's really sort of a wonderful time to be assigned to the ship," he said, grinning. "Get your orders and then go on holiday."

"I was considering visiting my family in Dusseldorf, my parents and one of my cousins are living there right now, and I haven't seen them since I left for my last mission with the Glasgow. I also have some friends in Baton Rogue I might see..." he shrugged, feeling somewhat impartial.

"Baton Rouge," he muttered, creasing his brow in thought. "Red stick?"

Teth wrinkled his nose in confusion for a moment before realizing that the Bolian took the name a bit too literally.

"The city... In North America."

"Oh!" he laughed, turning a shade of purple in embarrassment. "Well, you're always free to visit me at my home in Crecy-la-Chapelle, it's just a bit outside of the city here. We'll be having a winter festival soon, which is great fun. If you like that sort of thing, I mean. And I think the rest of the crew has all manner of open events during the leave. Do you have hobbies, counselor? Uh, I mean, I'm sure you do. Maybe I should say, 'What are your hobbies?'"

The counselor pondered this for a moment before answering almost as if thinking aloud, "I quite enjoy gardening, writing, reading. Just quiet things, I suppose. What about you? It isn't every day I meet a Bolian Francophile.

"Sometimes I like quiet things," he said, trying to be agreeable, "but I'm not much of a solitary person. I get bored when I'm by myself - I much prefer to be with others. I like to cook and dine with others. And, hmm... I like holoprograms. Traveling is fun, too. And there's still so much more of Earth for me to explore, much less the whole Federation. You can meet so many wonderful people and have so many memorable experiences when you wander around."

"I suppose I socialize with people for a living. I consider myself a sociable person, but it even becomes too much for me at times. Sometimes I just want the company of my plants and a good book. Though admittedly this has been a very enjoyable experience."

Teth dabbed his mouth with a napkin and crossed his utensils in his dish, finishing his single course in the time it took his new doctor friend to finish several. But Bolians were renowned for their appetites and Caitians were not.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Olsam said, dabbing at the corners of his mouth. He tidied up his space and made to stand, extending his hand. "It was so nice to meet you, counselor. You're always welcome in Sickbay, and I'm never too far away for a social event. Or a quiet tea."

[OFF]

Lieutenant JG Olsam Mott, M.D.
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

&

Lieutenant JG Teth Mirr
Counselor
USS Galileo

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