Go Press That Dissonance If You Dare

Posted on 21 Apr 2015 @ 10:04pm by Commander Andreus Kohl

1,205 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Nautilus - Deck 6, Sickbay
Timeline: MD 01 - 2100 hours

[ON]

Only after he quick-stepped into Sickbay did Andreus Kohl notice that his combadge was sitting crookedly on his chest. He had changed in and out of uniform so many times this day that he completely lost count of how many times he'd stripped naked. Standing in Sickbay, he was back in the pristine white jacket of his dress uniform. Contrarily, his honey-brown hair was mussed. By the time anyone noticed him standing there, he did manage to adjust the angle of his combadge.

"Commander?" the CMO queried as he studied the dissheveled appearance of the ship's XO. "Are you alright?"

At first blink, Kohl didn't know why Doctor Mercy had asked that question. Kohl was certain he had straightened-out his combadge before anyone had seen him. Kohl vocalized his inquiry as a, "Hmm?" He shrugged, and said, "I suppose I am a bit run-ragged. I jaunted back to Galileo for a couple of appointments this afternoon." And then Kohl remembered his hair. He said, "Oh, you mean this? That's for the Klingons. They don't truly appreciate tidiness, do they?"

"I do not know," Naois replied honestly, "I do not intend to disshevel myself merely to please a Klingon. You are who you are commander, and you should not change in favour to someone else. What brings you to sickbay?"

Kohl countered Mercy's assertion with, "Who and what I am is pretty fluid to begin with." And he offered an impish smile and a shrug. Before he could answer the question posed to him, Kohl looked around Sickbay. He scanned the entire compartment with his eyes, and then he padded to starboard. He moved towards a biobed to create a greater sense of privacy, and doctor-patient confidentiality. In a lowered voice, Kohl admitted, "But what I am is a man who is stumbling through two promotions at the same time. I hadn't taken much time to adjust to my promotion to Chief Research Officer when we were seconded to Nautilus like this. I'm still trying to juggle my scientific correspondence courses, while learning the tactical specifications of Miranda-class vessels."

"Life is a journey," Naois replied, "and for military like us, comes with promotions. I do understand how you feel. After resuming my duties from a three year absence, I still feel overwhelmed at suddenly being CMO."

The Vulcan frowned. "But that still does not answer my question."

Challenging Mercy's statement in a whimsical manner, Kohl said, "It does answer your question. It was but a prelude to the answer." --Kohl opened his hands in the air between them with a touch of dramatic flourish-- "I haven't been sleeping much since I came aboard. And now I'm going to spend all night drinking with Klingons. This is on the eve of going into battle for the first time as a command officer."

Getting to the gooey nugget of his answer, Kohl finally said, "What I came here to ask of you is: would you prescribe me a stimulant I can take tomorrow to get through the NIMBUS exercises."

"I could," Naois answered, flipping open a tricorder, "but I would require your word that you will only use it this instance."

Kohl narrowed his eyes on the tricorder, but only his eyes asked the question about the tricorder's purpose. What Kohl said was, "That's what I'm proposing. A single-dose hypospray. Maybe a second dose for when it's worked its way through my system after six hours."

A little hesitant to prescribe two consecutive doses, Naois' frown deepened. "Have you considered drinking coffee?" he queried as he waved the wand around Kohl's head and then around his torso. "Increased levels of adrenaline...what have you been doing?"

While Naois examined Kohl with the handheld scanner, Kohl remarked, "Caffeine doesn't have the same effect on Argelian physiology as it does on Humans." And, afterwards, when Naois asked about Kohl's activities, Kohl shifted his weight between his feet. "Doctor Allyndra has been continuing my treatment. On my nerve damage? I've stopped wearing the motor-assist bands today."

"You did?" Naois studied him for a moment, then smiled. "So you did, how do you feel about that? How long have you been using them?"

Kohl rubbed a palm along his beard, as he counted backwards in his head. "I've been wearing the motor-assist bands since... probably Stardate 67589.0," Kohl said. "Discarding them is proving surreal, so far. I was starting to accept they would always be a part of me, no matter how hard I worked on my strength exercises. It almost feels like my legs look funny without them."

"Your legs do not look funny," the doctor assured him with a smile, "a little pale perhaps, but not funny." he grabbed a hypospray then prepared a vial with a pale pink substance. "Two doses," he explained, "keep at least six hours between the two or you will overdose yourself."

"First thing in the morning," Kohl said, "I will review all of the cautions for that prescription with the computer. I won't take it without checking first; I promise."

"Just stick with the six hour space," Naois advised. "Was there anything else?"

"No," Kohl replied, and he shook his head for good measure. He took the hypospray from Naois, and he started to step away, but he held back. "I wouldn't have even asked for this," Kohl said, "if I didn't have to drink all night with Klingons before a battle. Who wants to be hung over in battle?"

"You could tell them you are a vegetarian," the Vulcan advised, "stims and alcohol are an ill-advised mix, you would be better off drinking raktajino."

"Hmmm, well, it's worth a shot," Kohl said in a non-committal fashion. He shrugged helplessly, though, to undercut his half-hearted commitment. "I don't know about you, but I don't go to many Klingon galas and they don't serve much Klingon cuisine in the Callisto Bar. I'm not sure I want to pass up on the full Klingon experience."

"That is your call," Naois answered, "I cannot eat most of Klingon cuisine as the key elements are blood wine, and meat of all varieties. I am a vegetarian and according to my culture I am in fact obligated to refuse meat products and anyone understanding Vulcan culture, will not be offended by the refusal. Consuming meat will make me very ill."

"Refusal sounds more than reasonable in your case," Kohl remarked. "It's always a little embarrassing when you're a medical officer, and you have to admit you've fallen ill."

"Doctors make the worst patients," the Vulcan chuckled, "is that not what is said?"

Kohl nodded at that, his expression turning guilty. He looked down at the hypospray in his hands, and he remarked, "That Is what they say."

"And I know it to be true," Naois added. "Why the guilty look?"

"A Nurse Practitioner isn't far off from a doctor," Kohl said, and it came out easily. "I've often been a difficult patient myself."

"And some people are just difficult," Naois teased, then gestured towards the door. "Go on..."


[OFF]

Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl
Executive Officer
USS Nautilus

Lieutenant j.g. Naois Mercy
Chief Medical Officer
USS Nautilus

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