How Do You Handle A Problem Like Az'Prel?

Posted on Mon Mar 4th, 2019 @ 7:38pm by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Asa Dael

Mission: Gaia Reborn
Location: USS Hera, Deck 12, Sickbay
Timeline: 2396

It was 0500 hours when Doctor Asa Dael woke up in Recovery Suite 3. There was a moment of confusion where the lieutenant could not remember why they were not sleeping in their own quarters before remembering how operating on the ships newest passenger, Az’Prel, had lasted until late in the evening. After surgery was complete Asa was emotionally and physically drained and had crashed in the recovery room next to their sleeping patient.

Asa set about putting on a fresh uniform and splashing water on their face to wake up before peeking in at Az’Prel, still sleeping soundly in her room. Deleting the note saying Asa was next door, the doctor updated the monitor to read “Press the call button when you wake up, I will be happy to show you how to use everything here, Doctor Dael.” Turning to leave the room, Asa jumped a bit at the sight of Commander Paris dozing in a chair in the corner of the room.

After procuring a two cups of coffee, Asa went to leave the beverage for their commanding officer to find upon waking and was about to go to their office to begin reading reports and writing the plan for Az’Prel’s next surgery, another in a series. The day promised to be a challenging one, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

Having spent the night talking with the refugee of a doomed universe, the fulsome First Officer of the USS Hera awoke, roused herself from the chair and tried to stretch out the kinks. Finding the cup of coffee thoughtfully left behind, she suspected by the Chief medical officer, Rita took a sip, then made her way to the office of said officer to check in and greet the day.

Stepping to the door, it opened automatically, and Rita knocked on the door frame. “Knock knock, Doc. Got a moment for an update?”

Hiding a yawn behind one hand, Asa rose to greet Rita and flashed her a welcoming smile.

“Of course, Commander. Please, have a seat. Can I get you some breakfast? If memory serves you are a French Toast fan?” they said.

“Only when I am feeling svelte,” the curvaceous commander giggled. “Oatmeal with apples and cinnamon would be delightful though, if you’re replicating. Looks like you had a bit of a sleepless night… want to talk about it?” Rita asked as she stepped inside and eased herself into one of the chairs opposite the doctor’s desk.

Bringing back the oatmeal with apples and cinnamon along with a cheese omelet with a side of cantaloupe, Asa placed each dish in front of its recipient and then went to their seat and collapsed slightly.

“It’s just…I’ve never seen something like that before, you know? Like I knew in my head things like that happened, but I guess I never believed it in my heart? I don’t even know if that makes sense…. You learn about it at the Academy of course, and it’s not that I don’t know what to do, it’s just that seeing if makes it real somehow. Her skin was a maze of puncture wounds, slashing scars, whip marks, burns, and necrosis. Her organs are all suffering from a long term complete disregard of her nutritional needs, her bones and connective tissues are all damaged from holding stress positions and evidence of other crimes. She must have been in constant pain….I just don’t understand how anyone can do such a thing, ma’am. I can’t even comprehend what she has been through, and now to know that everyone you ever knew is gone? That your universe is no more? Commander, I truly marvel that you can bear that from day to day….I’m concerned that Az’Prel may have had to become so hard to endure what she did that it has made her brittle. I’m afraid that she may break.”

The doctor sagged a bit, all out of words, and began to pick at their omelet.

Stirring her oatmeal, the lost navigator took her time to formulate her reply, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle. “A wise woman once told me that the reed which bends will spring back again, but the reed which breaks will never rise again. I can appreciate your concern, but I disagree.”

“I’ve spent a little time with our ward, and I can say with considerable confidence that she is far, far stronger than you are giving her credit, Doctor. I am far less concerned over her breaking because she escaped hell. I am more concerned over her feeling that she has nothing to offer our far more technologically advanced society.” Pausing to take in a heaping spoonful of oatmeal, Paris quickly chewed and swallowed. “That’s more my focus. She trusts us, which is a huge leap for her- it’s like hearing that somewhere out there in the multiverse is a Shangri-la, and taking a huge gamble, she achieved it. Now what to do with the rest of her life.”

After taking a deep drink of their coffee, Asa took a huge bite of cantaloupe before replying.

“I’m…I’m actually a bit glad to hear you say that, ma’am. I can’t think of anyone better suited to gauge Az’Prel than yourself. Of course I look forward to getting to know her better, but I understand you had a chance to speak on the way back from the wormhole, right? And maybe over the past few nights? I’m not asking you to betray any confidences, of course, please forgive me.”

“I have. Trust is a commodity with her, and while she is giving us hers, I haven’t delved into her past traumas. If that’s something you feel needs to be addressed, by all means broach the subject with her. I’ve chosen to dwell in the here and now and a brighter future in my discussions with her, and we’ve spoken a bit. I feel a bit responsible for her, after all.” Paris took another spoonful of oatmeal, realizing she needed it more than she thought as her stomach rumbled.

After a moment of thought, Asa continued, “So, finding her a place. We can do that. She’s going to need another 2-3 weeks of intensive treatment, but only another 40 hours where she needs to stay in a sterile suite. Then I recommend 2 weeks light duty until her final surgery, at which point she will need a day or two to rest up, then she will be back in prime physical condition. Where do you think her interest may lie? I’m certain there is loads we could help her learn while she rests….”

“Well, as a freedom fighter and guerilla warfare specialist she’s ideally suited as an infiltration expert,” Paris explained. “That would put her skills to good use and give her a purpose, a chance to contribute. Coming from a background such as hers I suspect sneaking around on the side of the angels might do her some good. But if she decides to go to Vulcan to see how her people have thrived, or decides to take up expressionist oil painting, I’ll support it.”

“This is the first real taste of freedom she’s had in her entire life, and she can use it as she sees fit, as far as I’m concerned. But for now, she’s happy to stay close and remain on the Hera, so we’ll acclimate her slowly. She’s been reading her way into the ship’s library acclimating herself, which I suspect will go on for a while, and while I’ve limited her clearance, I haven’t held anything back. She’s got questions she doesn’t even know to ask yet, but she is very much a survivor. I have confidence she’ll adapt well, and we'll support her while she does. The ship of lots misfits does tend to pick up strays, and I suspect this is a situation that will not be uncommon in our experience as we move forward.”

“I imagine you are correct,” Asa said with a smile. “From what I have learned of Vulcan culture, tradition is paramount, and I would posit some kind of structure in her day might help. Perhaps I should stop by at a set time each day? Commander…if I may ask….what would have helped you when you got here? I know circumstances are different, different universe and all, but they aren’t totally dissimilar. I’m sorry if the question is too personal…”

“Not at all,” the easygoing executive relied, then she chuckled. “Some compassion, a little understanding that I was a stranger in a strange land would have gone a long ways. Feeling someone cared and understood would have been huge. I’d been torn from a life that I loved, an assignment where I was valued and a man who meant the world to me. By a technology that has plagued me for much of my career. In Az’Prel’s case, she took a gamble while she was on the run from the destruction of her universe which was a hellhole, so the circumstances were a bit different. But I suspect the needs are the same. She needs to know that we care, that we understand, that she has value as a person and as someone who can make a difference.”

“I may not have done the absolute best job of orienting her to where and when she is now. But I know I did a damn sight better than the mansplaining I got when I arrived here, from a first officer who was clearly annoyed at having to waste his time with someone he pointed out he didn't trust and clearly felt held no value to the crew. I had to fight and struggle to find some way to be useful, acquaint myself with the locals and find some way to contribute. I’ll make damn sure she doesn’t have that experience.” Realizing she was projecting a bit of vehemence while recalling her own experience, Rita took a deep breath to calm down a bit. “Sorry. Still a sore spot with me, clearly.”

Asa had been listening attentively while eating and rushed to swallow the bit of omelet they were chewing on.

“I’m sorry you had that experience, ma’am,” Asa said softly, “I won’t promise you I will be perfect, no one can do that. I can, however, promise you that if I find anyone in my staff has made our new friend feel less than welcome and valued that I take such an offense very seriously. I don’t anticipate that happening though, I like to think we’ve come quite a ways in that regard. I can also promise you that I will do everything I can to make Az'Prel, yourself, and every other member of this crew feel valued, noticed, needed, and helpful.”

Taking a sip of coffee to wash down the omelet better, Asa continued, “What do you think of a trip to the holodeck with Az’Prel? After her skin is done healing in a couple of days it might benefit her to see some Vulcan, or other familiar sights, as they are now. Or perhaps there is a traditional welcoming ceremony that Lieutenant Sonak could assist us with? Something to say, for certain, we are glad you are here. I’m sure other members of the crew wouldn’t mind participating either. And if I may be so bold- it may do your heart some good to see her welcomed in a way that you deserved yourself ma’am.”

“That I’ve already handled- she knows who I am, and she knows I am here for her and she knows that she's welcome. Like I said, I was entrusted by the Prophets to care for her, so she’s my responsibility. I may not worship them, but I respect that they took in this lost refugee and held her safe until they found someone who would understand to give her a home."

"The holodeck might be a plan- the Vulcan you know is most definitely not the one that she knows, and I suspect that Sonak would make a better tour guide than I. Remember, she comes from a universe where the Terran Empire rode roughshod over the universe, subjugating rather than allying.” The well-traveled officer made a bit of a face at that. The Mirror Universe had always been a point of shame for her, having seen how humanity might have turned out had they been humancentric and given to conquest rather than reaching out with the open hand of friendship.

"So, I have some plans laid out for her future. Dealing with her past, coming to grips with it and learning to live with being a survivor- that's where she's going to need you, Doctor. The nightmares and the triggers and trying to learn to relax her hair-trigger combat skills now that she's in friendly territory for the first time." Paris spread her hands, spoon in one hand and bowl in the other, then she pointed at Doc with the spoon. "That's where Az'Prel will need help most of all from you, Doctor. You've already done a wonderful job on her body, and I understand you have a ways to go there as yet. But dealing with her past is going to be something I suspect will take a good deal longer than healing her body."

“It often does,” Asa said quietly. Tapping a finger against their lips contemplatively for a moment, Asa continued, “I recommend twice weekly sessions with both myself and Lieutenant Sonak. I have no illusions that I can help her rebuild her psychic defenses with the same skill he can, but I can provide a therapeutic environment to discuss her progress and work through trauma’s from the past. I have also read there is great value in situational rehearsing in Vulcan recovery….meaning the more Az’Prel practices common occurrences and triggers and how to react to them, the more easily she will react in the manner she wishes when a situation occurs. So, when we see her getting ‘stuck’ on something, we can help her apply logic to find a solution, then practice a few more times how it was handled. From what you have said, I have no doubt she will master far sooner than others.”

“An education program likely wouldn’t hurt either, both historical and technological. Truth be told, I still struggle with both,” Paris admitted with a slight shrug. “I just lack the time to devote to studying, as I’m a little busy with my duties. But I find facing the technology of the day daunting, so I suspect it will be quite similar for her, and discovering the differences in the timeline, when I thought I knew something and it was not so here, is always unpleasant for me. Likely she’ll need some education there, as she will have the luxury of time.”

“Excellent point, Commander, I hadn’t thought of that yet. I imagine the culture shock quite severe. If she is starting with infiltration, I will speak with Clemens and see what he recommends from a technology standpoint. Basic reviews of the planets and cultures in the Federation would probably be a good place to start also. Practicing the etiquette and traditions would be a good way for her to begin to interact with the crew too, do you think?” Asa was tapping notes into a PaDD now, jotting down salient points to remember and circle back to.

“Etiquette and traditions? I’m afraid you lost me there, Doctor,” Paris admitted.

“Oh, you know, the whole when in good company on Earth, eat with forks or chopsticks for the most part, whereas Klingons encourage you to use just hands. The traditional toast for various occasions used by most Romulans, the meaning of the Bajoran ear cuffs- stuff like that. We take it for granted, but we are from this universe. It just seemed that Az’Prel would want to know the major traditions of the cultures that make up Starfleet, and that we should start with those of the crew serving on this ship. That way she may feel less ‘other’ around them. Well, ‘feel’ is the wrong word here, but I can’t think of another. Perceive herself as part of the crew more easily?” Asa replied.

“Ah,” Paris replied, as in point of fact she herself was not from this universe, did not know Klingon etiquette was to eat with one’s hands and had no idea what the Bajoran ear cuffs signified. While the doctor might have taken it for granted, she did not. “That sounds like an excellent curriculum to include as well, Doctor. It would certainly help her to feel less alienated and likely keep her from… well, she’s logical, so she doesn’t have ‘feelings’ about anything, but it will be less readily evident that she is ‘other’ when she knows more about the local cultures and races.”

“Actually, we might be able to kill two proverbial birds with one stone, now that I think about it. There are plenty of new crew assigned to the Hera, from a variety of back grounds and cultures. It would be foolish to assume everyone knows about their ship mates culture by default, and potentially could create avoidable conflict. Why not have a cultural exchange- maybe a meal or something similar every so often- where one member of the crew could present what they treasure most about their heritage? That way others could learn about both the culture and the crew member. Who knows, maybe even make a few new friends?” Asa said, hopeful and excited to find new ways to build bridges of friendship on the Hera.

“Write up a submission for it, and I’ll submit it to the captain for approval. Seems sensible to me,” Paris nodded. “All right Doctor, I think we’ve assembled an action plan and we have plenty to move forward with in regard to acclimating out refugee. Are there any other salient points you feel that need to be addressed in regard to Miss Az'Prel, or anything else while I'm here?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you for this. I feel much more confident about my plans for her recovery now,” Asa said with an expression of gratitude. The horrors of yesterday’s revelation were not quite as fresh to the heart now, and Asa always felt better once a plan was in place.

“Outstanding Doctor, that’s good to hear.” Rising, Paris paused to finish her coffee, then addressed the ship’s surgeon once more. “Given the life she’s led and where she came from, I suspect Az’Prel will always be waiting for that other shoe to fall. But showing her consistent compassion and stability should go a very long ways toward putting her at ease and getting her acclimated to life on the Hera. Thanks for doing your part, Doc- I knew we could count on you.”

With that, the friendly first officer waved, and departed the office.

As the doctor began to type up their thoughts on a cultural exchange for the Captain they reflected on the whirlwind previous 24 hours. Az’Prel served to highlight the need for the medical staff of the Hera to remain compassionate and understanding, always seeking to understand in order to provide care. Report sent, the doctor set about making arrangements to meet with each staff member to both review their duties as well as to gauge their emotional and mental availability to continue to provide compassionate care.

After all, a doctor's work is never truly done; and to the mind of one Asa Dael, nor should it be.