The comm’s message filled sensitive ears otherwise occupied with the whines of a young engineer, who had no desire to remain on bedrest.

“Please, Ensign. It is illogical for you to behave in such a manner. Allow your body the recuperation it requires, then you may return to active duty. Or, as it has been recently issued, shore leave. Now, do rest, or you will be sedated.” Without further word, she inclined her head, turning away from the man. T’Aria knew how vexing humans could be, however, when they were sick, they somehow reached a level of irritability that was incomparable to their general state of mind. She didn’t much care for it.

Sanitizing her hands, from where she had been working with the radiation poisoned Ensign, she adjusted the hem of her dress and headed directly for her office. Catching her gaze with three specific doctors, she spoke clearly and crisp, as not to appear to stutter and go unheard. “Doctor Johnson, Doctor Westland, PA Kane, come to my office, as soon as is possible.”

Without further word, she slipped beyond the distinctive hiss of parting metal doors, where she was met by the mellow, spiced scent of a burning candle. It was intended to promote a calm atmosphere, beyond the sterilization of the sickest, which wreaked of cleaning products, a rather unwelcome scent to noses as sensitive as most humanoids aboard the ship. Thus, the incense was a relief, a mechanism put into place to ensure one was not met with the same agonizing scent, when being debriefed or talked to in her office.

Setting the PaDD, which bore the information of the young Ensign and his past injuries, upon the table, she checked the monitor for any scheduled surgeries or appointments, for the remainder of the day, and the coming days. Silently, while awaiting the arrival of the opposing doctors, she divided the tasks between doctors, beginning to determine which officers would be on the planet and which would be on board the Chernov, seeing to the few appointments they had.

Dr. T’Aria
CMO