Posted by Cadet P’Mala Dawes (Doctor) in CMO’s Office - Cadet Dawes Reporting for Duty
Every time P’Mala rematerialized from teleportation, she imagined she felt what a snake must feel after shedding its old skin–all her atoms rearranged fresh into whatever constituted herself.

The USS Challenger was a larger vessel than the smaller ships on which she’d previously traveled, and she didn’t know what to expect–an officer to greet her, perhaps? But the room was empty.

“They must have not known I was coming,” she thought. “Or else something came up at the last minute.”

Her uniform was pin-straight, but still she brushed at it with the backs of her hands to smooth it down. She wished for a pair of sunglasses–something to dim the room. Though she looked as calm as glass, everything inside of her felt a twinge… off.

“Computer, where am I?”

=^= “You are aboard the USS Challenger.”=^=

She’d forgotten that it took some time for her to establish a working communication with AI, both too literal minded for their own good.

“Computer, where aboard Challenger am I?”

=^= “You are in a teleporter room 2 on Deck 3.”=^=

P’Mala sighed inwardly. “Computer, can you direct me to the Medical Officer, please?”

=^=”Dr. Frankenstein, Deck 4.”=^=

P’Mala gave a slight smile out of the corner of her mouth–quick then gone. While growing up in the mountains, she’d often read classic English novels, gifts from her mother’s family. The irony was not lost on her, and she allowed herself to enjoy it.

The halls of the Discovery-class ship were busy enough, not overcrowded like there was some emergency that prevented someone from greeting her. Oddly enough, nobody batted an eye as she took the lift to Deck 4 and walked toward sickbay.

Inside, the room was cool. The noises of the machines were familiar to her and felt somewhat comforting.

P’mala stood by the door, patient, waiting for all that was still to come on this big day: her first actual assignment to a Federation ship.

“Alex…Alex,” Daphne’s voice rang out in sickbay cutting the quiet of the space like a klaxon during a red alert. A loud crash followed by several expletives signaled something was going on in the back of the space. “Blake, don’t touch anything. I am going to get help,” the voice replied before stumbling out of the area making it appear to someone in the waiting area she either tripped or fell out of the space.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she let out a deep sigh. “Dr. McCall,” she snapped looking at the large glass pneumatic doors to the space. Instantly seeing it was not who she thought, Daphne felt her shoulders slump some as she took her head. It was just going to be one of those days again. McCall was always on time except for today when she had asked him to stop by the mess hall and grab some coffee. With the replicators down in the medical area, getting coffee here was paramount. Straightening her uniform she rubbed her leg feeling the impact from the ladder making her appendage fell stiff like a tree trunk.

The large bruise that was undoubtedly forming made her limp a bit until she got the blood flowing again. As she moved across the space no longer caring about appearance or a first impression. It was medical. Nothing ever here went as planned and it was the one area of the ship that if you left in better condition than when you arrived, especially with Cadet Blake doing rounds, Daphne saw it as a unilateral win for all involved.

“Hello, can I help you,” she asked the young officer standing in the space.

Lt. Daphne Frankenstien CMO