Posted by Lieutenant Commander Edelu (CMO) in Office of the XO - Reporting for Duty

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Magnús Pétursson (First Officer) in Office of the XO - Reporting for Duty

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Edelu (CMO) in Office of the XO - Reporting for Duty
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Lt. Commander Edelu moved with the composed efficiency of a man long familiar with starship corridors. The Genesis was still new to him—she had a different rhythm than the Ogawa, more pulse than hum, and the occasional subsonic resonance in the bulkheads that hinted at her heavier frame. Manhattan-class. Bigger, more muscle. And still graceful in her own way.

His boots made almost no sound against the deck plating, but he walked with intent, every step measured. A padd in his left hand held the formal orders of his transfer and onboarding clearance. A signature here. A scan there. All the little rituals of integration.

Deck 2 was quieter than the lower levels. Quarters, strategic operations, executive offices. The heartbeat of a ship’s leadership.

Edelu passed a pair of junior officers in quiet conversation near the corridor junction and nodded in greeting. Their glance in return was curious but polite. He imagined he was something of a curiosity—the Mintakan doctor with the Federation accent and a Vulcan’s posture. He was used to it.

He rounded the final corner and paused just outside the Executive Officer’s office. The door loomed ahead, currently sealed but humming softly with the dormant energy of all Starfleet architecture. A plaque etched with the words Lieutenant Commander Magnús Pétursson was fixed neatly beside the door panel.

Edelu exhaled quietly through his nose, straightened the collar of his uniform with a small gesture, and tapped the door chime.

He was ready.

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer

“Enter” The slightly accented baritone called from beyond the door.

The office had the standard layout, a desk with two chairs, and cabinets behind the desk for decoration, then on the left end of the room, when entering, was a corner sofa and a coffee table. On the coffee table, there was a metallic coffee pot and a handful of faux ceramic cups, each with the Starfleet logo. There were a handful of decorations on the cabinet shelves behind the desk. Mostly photos of Magnus with his parents outside a restaurant, during his Academy days, one with him and three other men during graduation, two of which made him seem a small, petite man. There was a framed football jersey and a cookbook on the other cabinet shelf next to a UFPMC Marine officer bobblehead.

Magnus sat behind a desk, tapping away on his console. He uniform jacket was draped on the back of his chair, his uniform undershirt sleeves rolled up. He turned to look at the Mintakan and smiled widely “Ah, Commander Edelu if I’m not mistaken” He stood up and indicated the chair “Welcome to the Genesis, Doctor” Magnus was a tall man, broad-shouldered with an easy smile. His blond hair was greying at the temples. On his left wrist, he wore a watch, old and well-kept, purely mechanical.

XO

Edelu stepped through the doors with a quiet nod of acknowledgment, his gait smooth and deliberate.

“Lieutenant Commander Pétursson,” he said by way of greeting, voice low but clear. “Thank you.”

He took the indicated seat, folding one leg over the other with precise decorum, the PADD with his orders balanced on his knee.

“I’ve reviewed the Genesis’ medical complement and preliminary personnel files during transit,” he said, eyes briefly scanning the room. “You’re running a capable operation. I’m eager to contribute.”

A faint glance flicked toward the photos on the shelf—human warmth and camaraderie in still frame. Then the bobblehead. Then the cookbook.

Edelu’s brow lifted by a fraction. “You cook,” he observed—not quite a question, but close.

There was something in his tone—not surprise, exactly, but something like appreciation. The tactile, the physical—creation. It wasn’t so different from medicine, in its own way.

“Good kitchens and good sickbays, I’ve found, both require prep work, discipline, and the ability to improvise when the unexpected arrives.”

He looked back to the XO, meeting his gaze. “I suspect the Genesis will offer plenty of the unexpected.”

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer

Magnus looked back at the shelf and smiled “I do enjoy cooking, my mother owns a restaurant back on Earth, Federation fusion.” He said with a brief smile and turned his attention back to Edelu “Well, welcome aboard and all that. Had a chance to visit sickbay yet?”

XO

Edelu’s mouth tilted ever so slightly at the mention of “Federation fusion”—a knowing, almost wistful expression.

“I have,” he replied, his voice smooth and measured. “The facility is well-maintained, equipment current, and the nursing staff is… exceptionally well-trained. Attentive. Confident. One of them diagnosed a subcutaneous hematoma on a crewmember before I’d even finished reviewing the dermal scan.”

He let the compliment stand without overstatement. It was earned.

“That said,” he continued, adjusting the PADD slightly on his knee, “the staff is lean. Understandable, perhaps, for a vessel of this class, but I’d recommend bringing aboard another physician. Someone junior. Fresh from residency or final-year clinicals. Someone who still has the stamina to enjoy being on-call at three in the morning.”

The tone was light, but not without a glimmer of truth—an acknowledgment of age, of experience, and the many years spent walking the quiet corridors of sickbays under red alert lighting.

“I’ll handle the lion’s share until then,” he added. “But if the unexpected arrives—as I suspect it will—I’d prefer not to triage a deck full of patients alone.”

He offered that same small, dry smile again—just enough to reveal that, despite the formality, he wasn’t without humor.

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer

Magnus nodded “We’ll reach out to Command, see if they can’t spare us an extra hand, we mostly get frontier assignments so additional staffing can be… delayed.” He tapped on his console, “Says here you were assigned to the Ogawa as Medical Chief, I’ve known my fair share of Doctors and nurses” He chuckled slightly at that “The Ogawa and her sister ships are considered prime positions for Fleet Doctors, any particular reason you came to the Genny? Not that I’m complaining of course, we’re very happy to have you on board, just curious”

XO

At the mention of the Ogawa, Edelu’s expression softened—not quite into a smile, but into something quieter. A stillness in the eyes. The kind reserved for things remembered with equal parts pride and reverence.

“The Ogawa,” he echoed, the name itself holding weight. “A temple of medicine in warp transit. State-of-the-art equipment, top-tier specialists, research teams with standing access to Command briefings and peer-reviewed off-ship consultations.”

He paused, eyes lowering briefly to the PADD resting on his knee. A long, thoughtful breath.

“It was an honor. One of the finest chapters of my service.”

There was no exaggeration in his voice. Just calm certainty.

“But it was also…” He searched for the right word, one hand absently tracing the seam of his uniform tunic. “…constant. Fast. Measured not in days, but in shift rotations and case counts. Twelve beds occupied before first meal, fifteen consults by midday, two surgeries before nightfall. It’s easy to forget, after a while, that the heart has a rhythm slower than the ship’s impulse drive.”

His eyes met the XO’s again—clear, steady.

“I come from a place where we wait to speak until the fire has burned low. Where we walk beside our elders in silence, not because there is nothing to say—but because everything worth saying grows best in stillness.”

A brief flicker of something wry touched his features.

“Starfleet life doesn’t often allow for stillness. But a slower post… frontier work, long-range patrols, even the occasional false alarm—these offer space. Space to breathe. To mentor. To observe. To remember that healing is not only about speed and outcomes, but presence.”

He sat a little straighter then, not with pride, but with assurance.

“The Genesis may not carry the same medical prestige. But prestige was never my goal. Service was. And I believe I can serve well here.”

A beat. Then, dry as ever:

“And perhaps I’ll sleep more than four hours a night. Though I’m not optimistic.”

He let the remark hang there—light enough to invite a chuckle, but beneath it, a truth offered plainly. This was a man who had walked the brilliant, blinding halls of Federation medicine—and chosen, carefully, to step into the quiet.

And make it sacred.

Dr. Edelu, M.D. ○●●
Chief Medical Officer
U.S.S. Genesis

Magnus nodded slowly. It made sense. His own career had rough spots like that, but Diplomacy was never that completely hectic, there was never a shortage of people needing medical aid “I get that, well, we don’t really have anything beyond standard when it comes to practising medicine, the senior staff is however, filled with Adrenaline junkies with poor concern for their own well being” It was clear he was placing himself in that same group “So you’ll get some nice broken bones to deal with every now and then.” Magnus rubbed his hands together “What about you yourself, anything you feel I should be aware of as First Officer? Or just something you really need to get off your chest?” He smiled at his last statement.

XO

Edelu considered the question for a moment, unmoving. Then, with the same measured composure he might use to deliver a diagnosis, he offered a quiet nod.

“There is one personal detail I feel obligated to disclose—relevant less as a confession, and more as a matter of transparency.”

He reached inside his trouser pocket, pulling out a small satchel with a drawstring of coiled leather. From within, he produced a lacquered wooden case, smaller than a tricorder. He did not open it, merely held it in one hand with a certain reverence.

“On Mintaka, there is a plant—sarel-dashk—that grows only in the high valleys of the southern ridges. When steeped or smoked, its properties are mildly euphoric. It stills the breath, eases muscular tension, and—if taken in moderation—can foster deep meditative states. Among my people, it is used for healing both the body and the spirit.”

His tone was not defensive, merely factual. Grounded.

“It has been part of our medical and religious traditions for centuries. I partake occasionally, during personal hours, often following intense cases or before engaging in ritual solitude. I do not do so while on duty.”

A brief pause. Then, with characteristic thoroughness:

“I also keep a hypospray with a calibrated counteragent within immediate reach. Should I be summoned to duty during such a moment, I can render myself chemically neutral in less than thirty seconds—with no loss of motor coordination or cognitive function.”

He offered the faintest arch of one brow, as if preempting concern.

“This is not indulgence. It is… restoration. A bridge to the parts of me that Starfleet cannot reach.”

Then, with a subtle lowering of the voice:

“I find it better to be forthright about these things. Silence can be misinterpreted. And I would rather be trusted than merely tolerated.”

He set the case gently back into the satchel and returned it to his pocket once more, hands folding neatly in his lap. His posture, like his expression, remained neutral—but behind the calm, there was a steady undercurrent:

Not apology. Integrity.

Dr. Edelu, M.D. ○●●
Chief Medical Officer
U.S.S. Genesis

Magnus hesitated for a moment, then nodded “Well, there’s probably a form for that somewhere” He joked “But in all seriousness, thank you for informing me, usually I’d tell you to inform the CMO but.. well” He shrugged “Starfleet is a lot more understanding of Cultural and spiritual needs than they were in the 60’s” He recalled one of his lecturers speaking on unifrom regulations when he was in the Academy.

XO