Posted by Cadet Alex Winters (Doctor) in Sickbay - Alex Winters reporting for duty

Posted by Lieutenant Obiah Torrirs (Chief Medical Officer) in Sickbay - Alex Winters reporting for duty

Posted by Cadet Alex Winters (Doctor) in Sickbay - Alex Winters reporting for duty
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻

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OOC: You don’t have to snip after every post, just after it gets difficult to read! :3
IC:

“Ah, Miss Winters, is it?” When they spoke, as they identified with both sets of pronouns, their voice was accented with the faint twinge of a clearly alien non-binary woman. “I apologize for the clutter,” They motioned to the PADDs littering their desk, “I was not expecting you until later.”

Alex nodded. “I came aboard just ten minutes ago,” she said. “I suppose I could have taken a little bit more time to get situated in my quarters, but I’m just not the idle type,” she said. “I’d rather start getting into the watch rotation as soon as I can, if you don’t , mind.”

“I understand, completely.” The Doctor responded, taking a second to glance over at their PaDD, checking on the previous work. “Okay, just make certain to take time for yourself. As much as you may want to get to work, I need alert and attentive doctors on my staff, cadet or not.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Alex said with a smile. “Understood.”

“Please, have a seat.” They rose to their feet, making their way to the replicator. “Can I get you anything?”

Dr. Torrirs
CMO

Alex took the offered seat, then smiled a little smile. “Coffee would be good,” she said. “Black, no sweetener.”

“Understood.” They returned, a light nod of their head affirming her words. Making their way fully to the replicator, they plucked in the request, listening to the distinctive whir, indicating its procedure.

Niol had had no coffee. Or synthehol. Or sweetened drinks. Or sweetened … well, anything, except for unprocessed fruits. In fact, Niol didn’t have much that could tempt people to think of life as anything other than a beautiful but demanding proving ground, where God would judge whether one was worthy of getting into Paradise. Plus, they could only eat whatever they managed to produce on their own. Which wasn’t much, by the standards of replicator-equipped Earthlings. The result of this was that Alex’ preferred diet had been … well, rather bland and monotonous, compared to that of her classmates, when she’d first gotten to the Academy. She still had few vices. No candy of any kind. Nothing intoxicating. No artificial sweeteners. Certainly no elaborate three-course meals for her. But coffee … well, coffee had been a revelation to her, when she’d first discovered it. Coffee had become something she wasn’t really willing to go without, anymore.

• Cadet Alex Winters, Doctor

Having replicated the requested coffee for the young cadet, and a mug of pomegranate tea for herself, they curled their fingers around the handles, returning themselves to a position in front of the younger doctor. Setting down her mug, they rounded the desk, taking a seat in their chair, as their ankles crossed beneath the barrier of the hardened surface of the table. “Tell me about yourself, Doctor Winters.” They began, sipping at their tea. “Why medicine? What do you specialize in? Things of that matter.” They offered for something to go off of.

Dr. Torrirs
CMO

Alex took a sip of the newly offered mug of coffee, savoring it for a moment before she spoke. It was as much a way to enjoy her cup of coffee as it was a way to give herself some time to think. Why medicine? It seemed like a straightforward enough question to start the conversation with, but it wasn’t really. Not to Alex. She decided to skip to the easy part, first.

“My orders say I’m placed here as a resident in emergency medicine and traumatology,” she said. “Additionally, I’ve logged 200 hours of independent holographic skills lab training, focused mostly on cardio-thoracic surgery. According to my Starfleet personnel jacket, that should qualify me to assist an experienced colleague with the surgical treatment of heart and lung conditions in most humanoid patients.” She looked at her hands, now resting serenely in her lap, for a moment. “I don’t know that I’m … ready … exactly, to do any of it on my own,” she added quietly. “But I suppose I’ll find out soon enough, if and when the need arises. Maude willing, it won’t.”

“Impressive. Of course, many doctors find themselves expressing intricate interest in their fields, which lead towards further preparation for the real deal, if that is what you wish to call it.” Obiah remarked, motioning her hand for the woman to continue. Without a doubt, this information was utilizable and something she would have to keep in mind, but that did not mean she was going to ask further than she had to. After all, this was only basic introductory, not a forensic interview.

She looked up at the CMO then, realizing she might not be making the best impression by announcing in advance that she’d rather not have to intervene. She’d seen plenty of fellow Cadets and other medical students, during her various rotations on Earth, who became positively giddy at the prospect of a gravely injured patient coming in for them to ‘practice’ on. Alex, for her part, had never understood this. She considered it her calling and her duty to use the skills she had been taught and the gifts she had been given in ways that would serve her patients’ best interests. But sometimes … sometimes, that meant either do nothing, or leave it in the hands of someone more capable and experienced. And it was certainly never in anyone’s best interest for a doctor to rejoice in their misfortune.

“My grandfather taught me to respect life in all its incarnations,” she said, “and how sometimes, that means there really isn’t anything to do but make people comfortable as the inevitable happens.” She sighed. “I’ll admit, since I grew up in a community that saw modern medicine as human beings playing God, and therefore unacceptable, there were a great many things we would leave in God’s hands that I know now, we could have treated or prevented fairly easily. But my grandfather … he tried. Within the confines of what little the villagers’ beliefs would allow, and with what he had available to him on my home planet, he tried his very best. The people who believed they’d never need his help, shunned him. They considered him a heretic. But there were others. There were people who owed him their lives, in one way or another. They made sure his needs and mine were met while he was still alive. We had … a rather isolated existence, but we didn’t lack any of the basics, and he considered it his calling.”

“I will admit, I have much the same views as your people. To practice medicine, is to be the absence of playing God. That is, as it says in the oath we swear our souls by. However, that does not inhibit certain medical officials from practicing methods and procedures that would place them into the light of a so-called ‘God.’” Obiah remarked, studying the woman across from with vast inquiry. Yet, even in her attentive gaze, her lips never moved to form the questions that worked within her mind. “Your views are understandable and respected. In fact, your grandfather taught you well to respect the lives of those less fortunate than you or even more so. That, Cadet, is a lesson everyone must learn.”

Alex paused as deep melancholy, comfortable in its familiarity, descended on her. “I suppose that’s a calling I share with him, Doctor. Although for a long time, I wasn’t so sure. I was fascinated with what little technology we had on Niol – an ancient radio, among other things. Strictly forbidden and useless where we lived, but one of my grandfather’s most prized possessions. And eventually, mine. I must have taken it apart and put it back together again at least five or six times during my childhood.” She smiled at the memory. “And the, when the first shuttle I’d ever seen crash-landed at the edge of our village, I was nine years old. I didn’t go to school. It was all religious doctrine all the time, so my grandfather wouldn’t let me. I spent a lot of time early that spring with the shuttle’s co-pilot, who was a Starfleet engineer. I handed him his tools as he repaired the craft’s transceiver in order to call for help. And I resolved that some day, I would be an engineer on a starship, like him.”

“You wanted to chase after the untouchable.. the intangible dream that the Engineer set for you?” Obiah leaned forwards, her head tilting minutely to one side. It was almost impossible to see what was within her eyes, beyond the brilliant albeit pale gaze of consideration and articulation. An expression, to be quite fair, Alex would have to get used to. “Becoming a Doctor was a sin for you people, in a sense. By doing so, you were openly defying the ways of your own people, yet trailblazing your own. That, Miss Winters, is undeniably brave. And, in a way, would you consider it your purpose?”

She blinked as she smiled a sad smile. “In the end, I suppose I did a little bit of both. I’m a healer, like my grandfather, on a starship, like that engineer who crossed my path by accident when I was nine. Some would say that’s destiny.”

• Cadet Alex Winters, Doctor

Destiny. It was a funny word. One which Obiah never had the chance to fully understand. Destiny. What was destiny? Was it the sum of every choice, every action, conjured into the end result intended by those who found themselves along a given path? Was it the silent decision in one’s life to become what they were meant to be? Was it the bravery of oneself, that led to the definition of a destiny of their choosing? Obiah could not answer these questions, but they did lay claim to her philosophical mind.

“Fascinating, your choice of the word ‘destiny.’” Obiah rested her fore fingers against her chin, her palm forming a small cradle which the tip of her features soon came to rest within. It was a state of contemplation, contemplation of Alex’s words, of her situation. There was no set, or definitive cause for the bout of deep thinking. “If you were ever to go back, this is hypothetical, do you believe you would be inclined to try and change the minds of your people, based solely on what you know, now? No, I’m not talking about breaking the prime directive, should it apply to your species. I am merely asking whether or not your experiences might have impacted what you would try to make them understand, if at all, upon return.”

Dr. Torrirs
CMO