<SNIP!>

He glanced behind him momentarily before taking the proffered seat “Thank you, Commander, yes, a Bolian tonic water would be lovely.” He wiggled slightly in the seat, wondering if he should ask for the replicator pattern to replace the torturous spine shaker that deigned to believe it was his office chair. He brushed off the thought, glancing around the office again. He wondered about the medal on the Counsellor’s shelf, but knew little of Starfleet commendations and thus had no idea what it represented. He scratched behind his left ear and ran a hand across his bald scalp. It was an unconscious check he performed several times a day to ensure that no shadow had developed. He stood, having never been especially good at sitting in a single spot without a data terminal in front of his eyes, and crossed the carpeted floor towards the shelving, examining several objects with his eyes, hands on hips. Without turning, he commented casually “quite a collection you have here, Commander.”

Doctor Nathaniel Harrison (CMO)

Sinclair ordered the tonic and a cup of black currant and lemon tea for himself. Returning to his desk and setting the drinks in their respective places, he looked at the items the Chief Medical Officer was looking at. “Thank you. Just some odds and ends from my limited travels thus far. Except for that.” and he indicated the medal. “Family heirloom, that.” and then he took a seat. “So what can I do for you today, Doctor? Or is this a social call?” he said with a small chuckle, knowing full well that no one came to the Counselor’s office on a whim.

Sinclair, CNS

Turning again to accept the proffered cup, he sat back down, not wanting to appear unduly agitated. He took a sip, grimacing slightly at the imperfect replication. It had struck him for some years that non-Bolian replicators seemed incapable of manufacturing a proper facsimile of tonic water “Just the usual boarding evaluation. Starfleet commands and we obey. Besides, I like to get to know all science and medical personnel aboard any assigned station”

Doctor Nathaniel Harrison (CMO)

Sinclair nodded and said “Seems reasonable enough. Well, I am Doctor Royal Sinclair, Ship’s Counselor.” and he kind of fumbled the ‘Doctor’ part. “Sorry, still getting used to that particular title. Anyway… so what brings you to our little piece of heaven, Doctor? And by that, I mean did you request the Saracen? Or was it requested for you?” he added with a smile.

Sinclair, CNS

He took a sip of his drink and placed it down on the table, folding his hands in his lap before responding “I could tell you that I requested this assignment; that i’m desperate to serve out in space and do my part to expand the borders of the Federation, new worlds and new civilization. Truth is, i’m a research scientist. In order to be assigned to a research command, I need to put in six months on a ship of the line to fill in this” he pointed to the empty third pip on his collar before continuing “I’m a damned good clinician and I will give my all to this ship and its crew, just as I did on Starbase 91 and at Starfleet Medical. Truth is, though, this is a stepping stone to something else.” He paused, taking up his glass again and sipping. He supposed, idly, that it might grow on him eventually. He wondered if he was perhaps a little too honest, but if one couldn’t be forthcoming with ones counsellor, who else?

Doctor Nathaniel Harrison (CMO)