snip

Hopping up onto the biobed she lay back and relaxed, or tried to.

Engaging a scan in relation to her nervous system as compared to the original would show a yellow line hovering on a graph quite distinct from the ‘norm’. Comparing it to how it was once she was rescued and treated it was once a much greater deviation from the norm. It has come down quite a bit but it was still not right or in a ‘green’ zone of a normal range.
- Darklis Castle, Lt, CSO

As she waited while Tealor read she took a couple of deep nervous breaths. As she lay she felt a tremor in a couple of her fingers on her left hand and she clenched her fist to try to get it to subside.

His face was rather stoic revealing little of what he was thinking as he read the summary report. There were a few moments where a sadness broke through the mask briefly, though it was unclear if it was related to her or something deeper from his own memory. Is eyes shift several times from the pad to the bio bed, he then checked a few things with his tricorder although the bed provided the information he needed, old habits seem to take over more often than not. “Thank you Lieutenant,” he said with a warm smile. “Looks like you are doing ok Medically you are cleared for duty. ” he said not wanting to air her personal business around the room. He waved his hand in a motion towards his office. “If you could join me in my office briefly I would like to have a brief conversation. ” he said waiting for her to come along side him. “I like to take a moment with each new member of the crew.”

Dr Tealor Tessan
Chief Medical Officer U.S.S Wolverine

Darklis’ brain did a double take and with it her lips nearly went with it in nearly saying ‘wait, what?’ She had expected to have a kind of ‘well we have to take you but you’re on probation big time’. Her head turned to the doctor, not sure what to say in response. But then the invitation to his office. ‘Ah, here is the ‘but’’ she thought, rising to a sitting position. Twisting and letting her legs side off the side of the bed she followed suit. Her boots on the deck felt loud. “Of course,” she said, mentally trying to fathom what was coming. Surely she had just gone through the physical portion. The counselor portion was yet to come and this was it. She was not going to be sent back home, not like this. She’d take a dull data entry spot in a backwater armpit of the Federation before doing that. She looked at the open door to the office and took the lead, moving resolutely toward it, but, curiously, looking around once she entered. What would an office like this be like? Photos? Pictures? Heirlooms? A set of holos for his snail collection? Or, with the way that he related to the ensign, was there a ‘casting couch’ there with notches in the arm of his conquests?
- Darklis Castle, CSO