Is she alright?

Posted on 04 Feb 2016 @ 11:10pm by Lieutenant Olsam Mott

1,528 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 10 - Symposium
Location: USS Galileo, Deck 3, Sickbay
Timeline: MD6, 0900 hours

ON:

Now having had a few days to get used to even having a daughter, after the baby was suddenly dumped on him, Tyrion needed to make sure the little girl was in good health. Not being a medic, the Betazoid had no way to know if the hybrid nature of the girl needed specific attention or treatment in any form or fashion.

Cradling the 4 month old baby into a warm blanket, he carried her to sickbay. "Hello?" he called out, "anyone here who can help me?"

Olsam's bald blue head popped out from the chief medical officer's nook, and he squinted at Tyrion. Soon after the sensor wand of a medical tricorder appeared in a similar fashion, eased around the corner of the compartment by a chubby blue hand that pointed the device directly at the new entrants. For some reason, the doctor seemed reluctant to move fully into the main room.

"Is that a baby? I wasn't aware we had any new ones on board. Where did you get it?"

"Uhm..." Tyrion seemed to hesitate. "A long story sir," he finally settled on, "but yes she's a baby, and she's mine. I don't know how old she is, exactly but I can tell she's a hybrid. I need to know if she's okay... "

"Those things are little petri dishes, you know," Olsam said, eyeing the baby with no small amount of suspicion. Whatever readings he was taking with the sensor wand seemed to finish - indicated by a beep from the device in his hand - and he brought the tricorder up to eye level to inspect the readings. "Well. It's clean thus far, no unusual contaminants." Olsam took a step toward Sickbay and then stopped, suspicious again. "Wait. I thought you were, uh... Not inclined toward reproduction, if you take my meaning. Did you steal it?"

Tyrion quickly shook his head to deny that suggestion. "No sir!" He cradled the baby girl closer. "I'm not, but check her...she's mine..just..not of this universe. I don't know how she got on board but I found her on my doorstep suddenly with a note to take care of her. She must've belonged to my mirror counterpart. But no sir I ah...wasn't planning on impregnating anyone. I'm quite happy with Grayson." He paused, feeling flustered. "What hybrid is she? Is she alright? How old is she?"

"Betazoid-Orion hybrid - that's a weird one. She'll need some medical intervention to regulate her hormones at puberty. 126 days old, at present. Relatively good health, albeit malnourished by Bolian standards," Olsam said, reading from the tricorder as he walked closer. "You mean it's from the alternate universe? Surely that violates some kind of regulation... Convention on the Trafficking of Sentient Beings, maybe?"

"I have no idea doctor, I didn't take her and I've no idea who did. Not that I care really because obviously whoever did send her here, wanted her to be safe. From what I understand, the females in the other universe, especially hybrid ones or non-Human ones, don't really have much of a future so she's better off here." The Betazoid frowned. "I've replicated formula for her but does she need anything else? I've no experience with babies sir, but that little girl needs me. The note said that her father is my uhm...version of their universe, and that her name is Dania."

"Dania?" Olsam asked, wrinkling up his nose. "Don't go to Bolarus IX with that name. Sheesh. It means 'cyst' in Bolian." He looked from Tyrion to the baby and then gestured to the nearest biobed. "Let's get her up here for some detailed scans, make sure she's not some sort of Trojan horse for biological warfare from the other side."

"That's why I'm here sir," Tyrion acknowledged, placing her on the bed. He held her hand, sending her silent reassurances.

"She'll need a birth certificate, so I'll have to file some paperwork with the Federation Records & Archives Administration," Olsam said, once again producing the sensor wand to take more precise scans of the baby. "Who should be listed as the guardians?"

"Me as biological father, since genetically she matches with me. As other parent..I'd have to talk to Grayson and see if he's willing. What would you suggest? I'm willing to acknowledge her as my own."

Olsam hesitated for a moment, as if using his judgment for something. "Right... I'll just list you for the moment, and they'll contact you to sort all that out. You can always amend it later to include whoever you like." He entered a few bits of information into the nearby computer console and then with some sense of glee he headed for the medcart. Injections were always far more fun than paperwork. "Now then... She'll need inoculations and post-natal supplements. Have you made childcare arrangements, or should I file for paternity leave for you?"

"We have shoreleave coming up," Tyrion commented as he comforted the baby on the bed, "so I won't need arrangements then but I think I'll need to have a talk with the EBH about day care won't I? Though I have a workspace to myself that I could make a little niche in for her. Not like she's going to walk anywhere anytime soon, right?" It was obvious Tyrion was grasping at straws here, and was really only going on what his intuition told him to do.

"I don't have any idea what she's going to do," Olsam said, deadpan. "She can't communicate, yet." He blinked and then reached for a hypospray, filling it from various different vials located at the bottom, least used portion of the medcart. "But I think it's not physiologically possible for her to walk, yet, unless she's a prodigy. And she doesn't look like a prodigy to me." His eyes shifted from Tyrion to the baby as he approached. "Have you notified security that you're in possession of an enemy combatant?"

"Enemy combatant?" Tyrion choked out, "Doctor, she's a baby. By the time she's old enough to start forming memories and learn, she won't ever remember she wasn't born in this universe. She won't know any better than that she belongs here. Why would I notify security?"

"I don't think regulations regarding enemy combatants have any age qualifications, do they? They did attack us. We don't know that baby's intentions. She can't speak, so for all we know she's been trained to execute something at a later date," Olsam said, eyeing the child with some measure of suspicion. "Granted, that seems unlikely. But I think you should report the matter to security nonetheless; they might need to file a report about people transitioning between universes or something. That seems like something you'd need to write a report on."

Tyrion sighed. "Alright, I'll stop by security but honestly doctor, I doubt they'll see things the way you do. She's a baby, an innocent in all of this. And I'm going to do my best to be a good dad to her."

"Do your best?" Olsam said, lifting an eyebrow. He proceeded with giving the baby its post-natal supplements and inoculations, which it seemed to receive without much complaint. "Are you sure your best is good enough? Have you reviewed the latest literature on parenting? Raising interspecies children? Providing an appropriate environment for children living aboard a Starfleet vessel?"

"No," Tyrion admitted as he picked up the baby and held her close to his chest. "But I can't do more than try my best. I don't think there's any set literature on how to go about babies. It's probably mostly intuition. Besides, she's got no-one else....and I'm acknowledging her as my own because your own scans say that genetically, half of her genes are mine. Even if there's that slight variation that shows she's not born in this universe."

"Probably mostly intuition?" Mott asked, sounding alarmed. He grabbed a PADD and began furiously entering information, chubby fingers working across the screen with determination. "I'm forwarding a compilation of the latest parenting guidelines from Starfleet Medical. Child-rearing is not intuitive, Mr. Faye. It is an art and a science. See, this is why people shouldn't even be procreating. It's all, 'Let me stick my genitalia in your genitalia,' and then when the consequences come along everyone wants to wing it."

"But I didn't have any part in the creation of this little girl doctor," Tyrion protested. "But I'll read whatever you send me, maybe it'll be helpful. Meanwhile is she alright? Am I good to take her home?"

"What? Oh, right. The examination. Yeah, she's fine," Mott said, shrugging. "Come back in three months for the last round of inoculations and post-natal treatment. And read that literature! It's important."

"I'll do," Tyrion promised, "and I'll have a word with Lieutenant Benice too... Thank you, doctor..."

"Of course, of course! Any time. Really, come by anytime. I'm usually pretty bored. People just don't get hurt enough around here, you know?"

OFF:

Ensign Tyrion Faye
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galileo

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

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