Siarram headed down the halls of the Saracen, determined to get his onboarding checklist done and over with. Then he could get to work. He liked that, work. There was a certain type of peace working with machinery. They always made sense, had to work a certain way. Raised aboard a cargo vessel, Siarram had always found that peace sitting by himself with a gadget of some kind.

He stepped into Sickbay without hesitation and sat in the waiting area patiently. From first looks, he would look Andorian: the blue skin tone, silver hair, antennae. All classic Andorian traits. But when one looked closer it was obvious that isn’t all there is: his pointed ears, the glossiness to his silver hair, his facial structure atypical for an Andorian. Even that blue skin tone was a bit off for an Andorian, almost pale in a way. And still strange from a medical standpoint, his lungs larger than that of an Andorian, his heart placed below the right lung, with additional cartilage on that side to protect it. There were other differences inside him, marking him as obviously not fully Andorian.

He glanced around Sickbay, watching the crew both patient and doctor. Some of the patients he could tell were complaining, about whatever minor concern ailed them, about the wait time, or whatever happened to be bothering them. Some sat quietly, only answering the questions asked of them, only providing relevant information. Others still had friendly chats with whatever medical staff was helping them.

Siarram was used to the way medical practitioners looked at him. Like a marvel, or a science project. Something to be studied and figured out. Awe and disbelief, almost. It didn’t bother him, really. He understood he was a tad… unique. In all his travels, both on cargo vessels and in Starfleet, he had yet to meet anyone like himself.

~ Lt Ch’Thaanaq, CE