Out of the frying pan...

Posted on 26 Feb 2015 @ 3:46am by Lieutenant Olsam Mott & Chief Warrant Officer 3 Alexion Wylde & Laeon Wylde

2,393 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo: Deck 4, Wylde Quarters
Timeline: MD 44 - 1200

ON:

"It's not fair...." Laeon grimaced as soon as the words came out of his mouth, realising how childish they sounded. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before looking back to his father, shrugging, at a loss. "I don't want to go."

"'I don't want' isn't usually a successful argument," Alexion said lightly as he moved across the room, gathering some things together in a bag for the lad.

"Okay..." Laeon paused and took a breath, resting his hands on his narrow hips as he tried to find another angle. "I'm not going to go, how about that one?"

"More persuasive," Alexion gave a quirk of a wry smile, looking back to him over his shoulder. "You heard the order. All children are to stay behind at the base."

"I am not a child," Laeon replied firmly, leaning against the frame of the doorway as he watched his father pack, making no move to help. "I am older than nearly everyone else onboard this ship."

"Only in years, not in development, you are still a youth to our people," Alexion looked over to him with a frown, shaking his head with a gentle sigh. "I know you find it frustrating."

"No, you don't, because you grew up at home where everyone was the same," Laeon said quietly, shaking his head and looking away, tightening his jaw up to stop the stab of emotion that came with the words.

Alexion watched him with regret for a brief moment. He knew it wasn't his fault. He couldn't have stopped those bastards from invading and burning their home planet. They had no choice but to flee. But he had always felt regret, maybe even guilt, at the fact Laeon would now never grow up around his own kind. Would always be older in years and outlive many of the people he would call friend or lover. He cleared his throat, shrugging his shoulders softly. "We're going into a war games scenario, it's for your own safety."

"Safety, maybe, not sanity," Laeon shook his head firmly, watching him with dark blue-violet eyes. "You made me stay behind with Uncle Jaq when you went out to the front in the Dominion War."

"Yes, and I was right, the frontline was no place for someone as young as you, and they wouldn't have let me anyway," Alexion shook his head with a frown, motioning to him with a quick flick of the hand.

"But it was horrific," Laeon shook his head firmly, swallowing hard. "So far away from you, not knowing what was happening, waiting for the call that would tell me you were dead, and completely helpless. You don't know how difficult that is. Being so far away, just waiting, and not being able to *do* anything. Just wait. At least if I'm with you, I *know*. Whatever that means, I don't have to sit there waiting for the bad news."

"It's not going to be like that this time. It's just a few days, and just a few silly games," Alexion said firmly, but his tone softened at the admission from his son.

"Then it doesn't matter if I'm onboard or not," Laeon pointed out quickly before he could take it back.

"They're not my rules," Alexion shrugged, watching him with honest eyes. "Any youth who is not working, doesn't come."

"Then I'll work," Laeon replied easily, shrugging in a gesture that made him look so much like his father.

"You're not joining the Fleet," Alexion said firmly, shaking his head to let him know he could brush any thought of that aside quickly.

"No, I don't want to, and don't have to," Laeon watched him, moving to take the bag his father had been packing and firmly tipping the contents back out. "I'll just volunteer to help out in one of the departments for the wargames."

Alexion arched an eyebrow at the decisiveness, turning his back on him to start tidying the contents up, not giving anything away. "Is that so? Then you had better go and ask permission from a Department Head to work in their department then, hadn't you...."

"No problem," the smile returned to the youth at that, the statement giving hope to him that he could stay with his father afterall.

"Better hurry up then, you've not got much time..." Alexion motioned to the chronometer, but half turned away from him so he wouldn't see the small, proud smile on his lips from the determination and independence in his boy.

---

== USS Galileo: Deck 3, Sickbay ==

Laeon sat patiently on the biobed as he waited for Dr Mott to be free, his hand tapping the edge to the rhythm of the song he was humming. Medical had seemed like the natural department to approach with his father already working there, and there was probably fetching and carrying and tidying to be done around the bay that didn't require formal training. He'd already got permission enough from his father, now he just needed Dr Mott to agree.

Olsam spotted Laeon and gave him a brief wave before turning back to the nurse to finish their consultation. There were any number of last minute preparations that needed to be made before departure, and he was happy to assume the burden of paperwork to free up Allyndra to see to the more important tasks. It only took him a few moments to finish, and then he waddled over to the biobed to give his colleague's son a big smile.

"Hey, kiddo," Olsam grinned, as if that were some sort of inside joke between them. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

Laeon shook his head firmly with a grin. "You think with a Doctor for a father I even get a chance to bleed?" he chuckled, motioning to him. "I came to see you...Sir," he added on the end, seeing as it was a real request. "I'd like to volunteer to work in Sickbay during this mission," he said bluntly. Life was easier that way.

"Right, surgical gowns are in the medical supply closet over there. Grab one and sterilize, we've got an emergency pancreatectomy. Get the #3 laser scalpel and a thrombic modulator," Olsam said. He stood there for only a moment before clapping his hands loudly and scowling at Laeon. "Let's move it!"

Laeon blinked in shock, jumping off the bed and shaking his head and waving his hands in front of him. "No, no, no, no no....I'm not a doctor! I have no training!" he said quickly with confusion, his hearts racing.

"Oh," Olsam said, stopping and turning around. He seemed to have a half smirk on his face. "Then what was it you were going to do here?"

"Well...." Laeon looked around the Bay, his lips pursed as he relaxed with the panic over. "I can fetch things, carry things, clean things, even file and organise things," he gave a small, hopeful smile, almost as if trying to tempt him. "Anything you guys get bored with...."

"Fetch, carry, clean, file, and organize," Olsam repeated, following Laeon's gaze around Sickbay. When his eyes settled back on the 'young' man, he had an hairless eyebrow raised and an amused look on his face. "I think maybe my universal translator is broken because all I hear is, 'I don't want to stay on the starbase during the training exercise.'"

Laeon remained silent for a long moment, weighing up his options. "No, it's working right," he conceded with a half smile, his foot shifting on the ground. He had always found being honest was quicker and easier. "That's true. I don't. But that doesn't mean I can't still be useful by working," he pointed to him, clicking his tongue. "I could be helpful."

Olsam nodded, finally breaking into a grin. "Well, of course you can. But I couldn't just take you on without testing your mettle first, right? So, we have a lot of preparations before the wargames." The Bolian reached over to the nearby medcart, pulled a PADD off of it, and called up a few files before handing it over to Laeon. He shuffled off toward a very non-descript door, assuming his new assistant would follow him, then activated a control panel to open the door. Inside were several vials enclosed behind the familiar hum of a forcefield. "First things first, I need you to recheck my inventory of the drugs in Sickbay. Just count the hypospray vials through the forcefield, don't touch anything. It's all part of the drug control system, and we don't want Lieutenant Benice down here all over us. If you do see a mistake, mark it and be sure to notify me as soon as you're finished."

Laeon gave a firm, decisive nod, the PADD cradled in the crook of his arm as he watched Mott with a, finally, relaxed smile at knowing he wasn't about to get kicked out the airlock as a stowaway. "Absolutely....oh....should I call you 'Sir' then? 'Sir' seems to be the most safe thing to call anyone in Starfleet...."

"Sir?" Olsam repeated, thinking it over. He'd always hated that in Sickbay, insisting that they were doctors first and foremost and should be referred to as such. But now that he was 'in charge' should the policy differ? Allyndra hadn't insisted on such things, so he decided he wouldn't either; hopefully, the entire chain of command wouldn't fall down around them. "Just Dr. Olsam, please. Or Dr. Mott if you really wanna get stuffy about it. I'll just call you Laeon, if that's all right. Or I can come up with a title for you, if you'd like? Mr. Laeon Wylde, Senior Executive Vice-President for Regional Medical Logistics, Drug Control & Surgical Gown Folding."

Laeon's eyes shone with humour and he couldn't help but laugh at the idea of it. "I can't have a title that's too long to remember, I'd end up looking pretty rubbish as I tripped up over it," he conceded with a playful sigh. "Oh well, Laeon it is then. Thank you, Dr Olsam."

"Very welcome," Olsam said, smiling hard enough that his eyes were two twinkling points set among narrow slits. When he spoke again, it was in characteristically rapid-fire sentences drawn from some list in his head. "Now then, when you finish the drug control inventory, you'll need to make sure all the medcarts are secure by checking the locking mechanisms on the feet. Then make sure all the medical equipment inside follows the standard layout found in the database; be sure to follow the standard layout for this ship and not that generic nonsense Starfleet Medical sends around. Inefficient, completely inefficient."

Laeon nodded hurriedly in agreement, his fingers moving quickly over the PADD's surface to make notes. He frowned with frustration at the slowness of typing with one hand and pulled out the small paper pad he used for sketching from his belt, holding it on top of the PADD as a rest and writing with the small pencil instead, relaxing at it being easier and quicker. With the rate of the doctor's vocal fire, he didn't want to miss anything.

"Then we'll need a level 2 diagnostic on all sickbay systems, including biobeds, holoemitters, laboratory equipment, the sensor suite, and all pieces of medical equipment in the medcarts. And finally, you'll need to go around the ship checking all the emergency medical kits to determine if they're missing any items or need to be otherwise replaced. I've really been putting that one off... Got all that?"

"....missing any items..." Laeon repeated as he wrote the last of it up, nodding firmly, making the tied back blonde hair flick over his shoulder with the movement. "Okay, got it," he said with an almost excited smile at being able to actually help out and having real jobs to do. "I 'have it covered' as the humans say," he chuckled softly.

Olsam eyed the notepad intensely and spoke so quickly he almost cut him off. "Is that paper?"

Laeon blinked, taking a second to process the quick oneliner. "Yeah..." he showed him, unsure. "It's for drawing, but I write notes too. I can't press all the buttons with one hand quickly enough to keep up..." he admitted with a soft laugh. "You, er, have a very fast brain...." he added, thinking it was a nice way to put it.

Olsam stared at it as if Laeon was holding a ham and swiss on toasted rye, a coveted noontime snack. He even licked his lips. "I don't suppose, uh, I could have a sheet, could I? I have a paper collection. I collect paper."

"Collect paper?" Laeon repeated with surprise, just watching him for a long moment, wondering if he was pulling his leg. He'd never heard of anyone collecting paper before. Sure, it was more unusual here than it had been where he was from, but still. "I...sure...." he shrugged with a bright smile, shaking it off. It was harmless after all. He tore a fresh sheet out and offered it over. "Does that mean I get a raise?" he teased.

"A raise? Did I put you on the payroll by accident? How many times is that going to happen?" Olsam asked, looking genuinely concerned for a moment. After searching Laeon's face, he realized he was joking and chuckled a little, as if he'd understood the joke all along. "No, sorry, no raises. Just curried favor with the Acting Chief Medical Officer. Hmm, curry. Have you ever had curry with your chips? Dr. Devin was telling me about it. It sounds delicious. What were we talking about?"

Laeon couldn't help but laugh, he just couldn't stop it. But it was good natured and full of warmth. "Curry with chips....I'll remember that," he tapped his temple seriously. "I was just going to start on my list," he tapped his pad with a grin before heading off at a run, half waving over his shoulder at him.

"Oh, right, the list," Olsam mumbled to the thin air, still reflecting on the chips with curry. "Yep... The list...."


OFF:

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

MWO Alexion Wylde
Doctor
USS Galileo
[PNPC Blake]

Laeon Wylde
Civilian Crew Family/Sickbay Volunteer
USS Galileo
[PNPC Blake]

 

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