Darklis sat in a chair in the relatively small main area of sickbay that sported two biobeds and a table. Granted, compared to the Matrix which had an impressive three biobeds, she was hardly one to compare apples with oranges. Her eyes flickered to the adjoining area that was the chief doctor’s office. He wasn’t in just yet. She had made an appointment but was early. Not actually fully cleared presented her with a plethora of options. Sitting early in sickbay taking in the sights, the hushed whispers of the two medical staff sorting equipment at the far side of the room (was it something in training that they couldn’t speak at a normal volume?), the vague antiseptic smell that seemed to pervade any doctor’s office or medical facility throughout history, was one of those options she took.

She could have been unpacking her meagre possessions but that seemed too depressing to her. This was a new place, a new home, and, to a degree, she resented it. The position excited and terrified her. For one who was eager in risk-taking, this somehow didn’t quite qualify in her thoughts. Yes, her thoughts, the doctor was reputed to be of Betazoid origin. How would he take to her thoughts? Would they walk her off the ship and toss her suitcase after her and say ‘no thanks!’? Was this posting going to prove her families’ opinions that she should be back on Wolf with them? Her short tenure on the Matrix was proof enough for the family that she should not be out here in space. It was dangerous. Danger was there. Well, if the Borg first, then the Dominion then the Breen didn’t prove that Wolf 359 wasn’t invulnerable to things from space then, to Darklis, nothing would. Why not meet it head on?

She sighed, her fingers not finding a place to settle. She had been provisionally cleared for duty, promoted and posted here all in a blindingly swift single week. She had not understood it and distinctly didn’t feel worthy of it. Fast tracked out of the Academy as a LtJ she had taken a year back at the Daystrom Institute and then assigned to the Matrix, a sleek, small, three decker that was built to dip into spatial storms and do experiments and take readings and see what new AI programming came up with side by side with more standard AI protocols. She just liked the ride, just like she liked the amusement park rides. The crazier the better. And the Matrix was crazy. And her command crew was no different. They were like a bunch of old hippies - or gypsies - bartering with the universe. Maybe that was why she thought it was like home, that she belonged there. Here? She sighed again and shifted her fingers and hands about again.
- Darklis Castle, CSO