Posted by Ensign Jasper Jarvis (Cardiology and Surgery) in Starbase - side sim
Starbases. Beings of all races coming, with countless others going. A hive of activity that, on this starbase at least, worked without fuss. No one rushed or barged past someone else. Queues formed and dispersed in an orderly fashion. And a blanket air of calm extended out to every nook and cranny. In short, a boring place to be stuck waiting for a shuttlecraft that had been delayed for 3 hours due to ‘technical difficulties”.

From an internal window, Dr Jasper Jarvis surveyed the quiet activities with bemusement. He would have thought to find more chaos in such a place. Not that he welcomed it mind you. For Dr Jarvis was a man who liked things neat. In the firm grip of bony fingers, he raised a china teacup to his thin lips and sipped. A look of mild disdain formed on his face; disgusting. It tasted no different to the swill produced by the replicators back in New Zealand. An exact atomic replica of some Neanderthal’s impression on the ‘perfect’ cup of English breakfast.

A wiry man with a thin moustache, sharp eyes and sleeked back hair, Dr Jarvis sat in an old-fashioned three-piece suit, which showed signs of long-term storage. The chain of a small pocket watch visible from the waistcoat pocket. Casting his not unexpected displeasure aside, he turned to consider the rooms other occupants.

Flanking the door were a pair of Star-fleets finest hired muscle; an Andorian and a Human. Both armed with standard issue Phasers. He did not know the name of either. Finally, engaged in a heated discussion via the rooms computer terminal, sat Counsellor Pope. A stocky man with a wide moustache and short, receding hairline. While normally placid natured and well mannered, the man became a fierce negotiator when someone got his dander up. On seeing that Jasper sat studying him, the counsellor rapped up his conversation. After a brief visit to the replicator for what smelled like a strong black coffee, Pope strode over and sat opposite him.

“The repairs on the shuttlecraft are going to take longer than expected… much longer.” The man paused to take a sip of his beverage. “However, I’ve convinced the commander that your transportation needs are of paramount importance.”

Jarvis gave him a probing stare over the rim of his teacup. “Convinced or coerced, Counsellor?” he said in a nasily tone.

Pope smiled slightly. “I did what was necessary.” Such a diplomatic response, how typical. “Regardless, the commander has graciously agreed to reassign the next craft to our journey. We depart in half an hour.”

That must have taken some doing, hence the heated words, Jasper thought. Ultimately though, the news that they would be departing soon did not enthral the doctor. He had not exactly pitched up at the academy all doey-eyed and dreaming of the day he would be granted his first position aboard a starship. This situation was merely better than the alternative. With that in mind he asked, “and what happens when we reach our final destination?”

“We’ll have a meeting with the captain, after which you’ll be under her jurisdiction.” Pope’s expression turned to stone. “However, I’ll be checking in periodically. Fail to adhere to Star-fleet regulation, the captain’s orders or the conditions of your assignment and…”

“I am well aware of the consequences,” Jasper snapped. The delay was beginning to make him irritable and he had been consistently reminded of them at every opportunity.

“There should be no issue then.” Pope drained his mug. “This is a golden opportunity, Dr Jarvis. Once we reach Carraya IV you will be assisting in the construction of a new hospital and providing much needed medical aid. A positive use for your skills.”

Jasper gave the man a sour look. Counsellor Pope was a firm believer in rehabilitation through positive work. One of many things they did not quite see eye to eye on. He swallowed the last mouthful of the disappointing tea. At this point in time, he was looking forward to a different prospect. That someone on Carraya IV might have a stock of actual tea leaves.

Dr J. Jarvis M.D.

The star-speckled black of space passed by the small shuttlecraft window as the ship journeyed towards its intended rendezvous with the USS Hippocrates. Out of this glorified porthole, Dr Jasper Jarvis stared into the dark. Thoughts almost as numerous as the stars themselves having crossed his mind throughout the trek. For the moment, he simply looked and listened. Not to the stars, for they made no audible sound, but rather to the port side impulse engine. Beneath its low hum, he could detect a faint clicking sound. A small crack in the drive cell assembly casing being his diagnosis. Apparently, his intended vessel was not the only one with a technical fault.

A thin smile crossed his pale lips. Even now he could still detect faults in machines he had once taken apart. However, the deconstruction of impulse engines and the like had not been enough to keep his attention. Not after he had made the realisation that machines and people were not dissimilar. Both were simply a collection of parts that, when put together in the correct order, functioned as intended. And each developed faults that needed to be fixed. Broken components, the introduction of impurities, the contraction of bugs or viruses and the passage of time. All affected both in equal measure. Yet with people came one key difference… life. Dismantle an engine, leave it while you went off to have a cup of tea and you could be sure that it would not have changed when you came back to reassemble it. In short, it would work just the same. But people… people were time bombs waiting to explode. Cut open a person’s chest cavity and you had a finite window in which to work before they expired. Sometimes even the slightest pause to think could be the difference between life and death. Yes… there were no tea breaks when performing complex surgery.

The thought of tea, real leaves stewed in a proper pot and served in a bone china cup, caused Jasper to lick his dry lips. The cup of English breakfast back at the starbase had done little to quench a thirst that had existed since he had been reduced to beverages produced by replicators. Perhaps someone on board the Hippocrates would be of the same mind and have something real; he’d even settle for a bag by this point. From the seat beside him, Counsellor Pope caught his attention.

“We’ll dock with the USS Hippocrates in about an hour’s time. After that it’ll be a straight trip to Carraya IV and our rendezvous with the USS Ogawa,” Pope said matter-of-factly. “Apparently, they affectionately refer to her as the ‘Owie’.”

Dr Jarvis rolled his eyes, then gave the man a sly smile. “Then it’s a good thing I’m on my way. I’m quite adept at fixing ‘Owie’s’.” He then gestured towards the remainder of their entourage. “Tell me, Counsellor, will I be required to dress in one of those militaristic uniforms?”

Pope continued to use his no-nonsense tone. “Once you are deemed fit for duty you will officially be part of Star-fleet. And subject to all of its rules and regulations,” he nodded his head at the security officers, “including uniform. However, as a medical officer, you may wear a lab coat if you so desire.”

“Wonderful,” Dr Jarvis replied, his voice brimming with sarcasm.

He averted his gaze back to the porthole before Pope gave him another lecture about how golden an opportunity this was, or some other such rubbish. Rehabilitation was just a word to keep people such as the Counsellor in a job. For him, this was about only two things. The chance to get a decent cup of tea, and the potential to once more wield a scalpel.

Dr J. Jarvis M.D.