Arming Possiblilties

Posted on Sun Mar 8th, 2015 @ 10:10pm by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Chaparral MD & Lieutenant K’a’mirh’un Tenm

Mission: Temporal Kickback
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: Current

Ethan was glad that a new doctor had come on board, it meant he could take some time off to recover from what had been done. By now all the physical wounds had been healed. except of course his arm. That would simply have to be replaced.

The psychological wounds of course could not be fixed by a wave of of a tricorder or on oceoregenerator. In fact he wasn't sure if he would ever recover from that and if he did, he knew that he would never be the same.

The one good thing in his life at the moment was that Dylan was back in it, and back in it for good.

He was going to stop in and visit the counselor as he had promised his fiance, but first he was going to stop by sickbay and meet his new boss and talk to him about building a prosthetic replacement for his missing limb.

Dressed in his uniform, a freshly replicated one, he walked into sickbay and pressed the chime for the CMO's office.

Lieutenant Cameron Tenm had been aboard the Hera for less than a few hours, had barely even had time to get him and Cairo settled into their new quarters before taking off to examine the status of sickbay. Recent events on board the Hera did not wait for one man; aside from losing its previous Chief Medical Officer, the Ambassador-class starship had many other casualties. As eager as he’d been to accept the position at first – to finally get back into space – now, upon realizing the scope of loss that this crew had recently experienced, he was beginning to wonder if his decision been wise.

It was like being tossed into the deepest part of the lake and told to swim back to shore. In his heart and in his mind, Cameron knew that he knew how to swim; he’d been serving in Starfleet for fourteen years now, was specialized in both Emergency Medicine and General Surgery, and had cared for and treated hundreds of patients.

But with the exception of a two-year stint on board the Proteus, all of that experience had been planet-side. The Hera would be Cameron’s second duty station, as well as his first as a Department Leader. Even for the Klingon-Trill hybrid, it felt like a whole lot to take in.

One step at a time, Cam Cameron thought inwardly just as the chime at his office door activated. Alright, so he’d been on board for less than a few hours and already had his first patient. He looked through the glass portion of the wall but whoever was at the door was also well hidden behind it. “Enter,” said Cameron.

Ethan took a deep breath before he complied. Normally, he was a pretty gregarious and out-going person. But these circumstances were not normal. Steeling himself, he stepped inside. Seeing the rather large man standing there in his teal uniform, Ethan took an involuntary step back.

Then chiding himself for his insecurity and timidness snapped a quick salute, "Good morning, you must be the new chief. I'm Ethan Chaparral, I'm your assistant. Well, I mean I'm the Assistant Chief Medical Officer. Welcome aboard."

Cameron raised an eyebrow to such fashion that would have made any Vulcan proud. His transfer to the Hera happened so quickly that he hadn't even had a chance to download the crew manifest reports before boarding the Bacon, so it felt a little strange to know nothing about his new assistant chief. "Thanks," Cameron replied after a moment of studying Chaparral's body language.

What caught Cameron next was the fact that his new assistant was missing an arm. Dammit... there's too much I don't know about what happened here, the Klingon/Trill hybrid thought, despite holding his facial expression to stone. "Uh, why don't you have a seat then," Cameron suggested, pointing to one of the empty chairs in his office.

Then again, he hadn't even convinced himself that it was his office. He hadn't sat in the Chief Medical Officer's seat, at least. Cameron had convinced himself that there were too many good places to stand that a seat was unnecessary.

Ethan forced himself to relax, the man in front of him was a Starfleet Officer, a real one he assumed, not some pirate. He took a seat and managed to look his superior in the eye, though the smile he wore did not reach his eyes.

"I am an epidemiologist, someone wanted the information about Romulan bio-weapons I have in my head. I didn't give it to them." he said answering the unasked question.

And they took your arm off as a result, Cameron thought. Clearly, Ethan had held up to the same standards as any Klingon. That didn't stop Cameron from feeling like it was somehow his fault for not knowing more details as to exactly what happened. All he knew was that it involved Remans, and the term "Zombies". Then he looked back to the empty chair. "I assume my predecessor wasn't so fortunate."

"No, he wasn't taken just me. He helped save my life so I can't really fault him. But I am pretty sure he was already thinking about quitting and this was the last straw. I'm just in no condition; physically, or emotionally to deal with the job. So they brought in a fresh face. Which is okay with with me, especially since I got a marriage proposal out of it. I'm fine with being number two. What I'm not fine with is staying like this.'

It was a lot to take in. Cameron nodded. "Congratulations on your Marriage proposal, at least."

"Thanks for that it was an easy decision to say yes." Ethan said, a small smile playing at lis lips before disappearing.

He pointed to his missing arm, "Can you help me with a prosthetic one? I really don't want to have to leave the ship to have one made."

Once again, Cameron looked to the space on Ethan's shoulder where an arm should have been. Producing one at Starfleet Medical would have been an easy matter, but he had certain doubts as to what the sickbay of a Nebula-class starship could afford. Still, Cameron could see the look in Ethan's eyes. They told him to at least try.

Pulling a drawer at the CMO's desk, Cameron found -- predictably -- a medical tricorder which he opened up. It began to read out medical statistics almost immediately. "Cybernetic or poly-organic?" He asked, studying the results.

"I don't know, I'm into extreme sports, but I don't know which I should get. Any suggestions?"

Cameron shrugged. "I've never had a prosthetic, so I wouldn't know." He pointed out, then giving Ethan's arm another look. "Cybernetic replacements tend to require a little more maintenance than the flesh and blood variety, but they do have a talent of increased strength and agility in the right hands, though. Cameron looked up... or rather... down, towards Ethan. There was a considerable height difference between the two. "Until you lost that arm, organic worked for you before. But if you want the extra features, mechanical would probably be a good option for you."

Ethan tilted his head up, "Well surgery is not my forte, but I do have to perform it once in awhile. So if the mechanical gives the the same, or greater amount of dexterity, I'll try that. I want something to remind me of the bastard that did this to me. Because if I ever catch him, I'm going to forget my Hippocratic Oath."

Ethan wasn't sure if he could face Ian again, much less strangle him, but he wasn't going to voice his fear to someone he barely knew.

Adjusting is tricorders readings without responding, Cameron began to analyze the severed nerve endings in Ethan's shoulders. Nano-augmentations along each ending would act as a conductor towards the motorized arm. While he ran his scans, he felt that it would be 'socially appropriate' for him to get to know more about his assistant, and yet right now he felt like he was on a mission. Side chat would be a distraction.

"It would be understandable if that's what you wanted," Cameron said, finally. Being part Klingon himself, he wasn't about to try to talk Ethan out of revenge... even if that's what he even wanted. Closing the tricorders, Cameron looked Ethan in the eyes. "It'll take a few hours for the replicator to synthesize the prosthesis, plus about an hour of testing and configuration."

Cameron realized he was going to need access to the terminal at the desk, and ever so reluctantly walked over to sit in the chair he'd been reluctant to so far. Bringing up LCARs, he scanned the schedule. "How about we aim for tomorrow afternoon at 1500 hours to begin the operation

"Sure, " Ethan replied, "How long do you think the operation will take?"

Cameron added. "As long as there aren't any complications, I think it would be reasonable to assume two or three hours."

"Okay, and how long will therapy or acclimation, or whatever else you want to call it. You know how long will it take to get used to my new arm?" Ethan asked.

Of course that would have been Ethan's next question, and Cameron quietly scolded himself for not thinking to elaborate further. As the new Chief of Medical, it wouldn't do him any well to answer questions line by line. "I believe I still have a therapy program from back when I was at Starfleet Medical. You should be able to use it to get used to the new arm much quicker. As for how long that'll take, it depends. Everybody's body reacts in different ways to the loss of a limb. I don't think you'll be assisting me in surgery for at least a few weeks."

Ethan let out s slow breath. "Well at least I have some idea. now. Thanks. Is it wrong to want the man that did this dead? I am supposed to be a doctor not a killer"

"You're talking to someone who's part Klingon, Chaparral. If I were you I'd probably rip that new arm out of its socket and beat him to death with it as soon as I found him," Cameron pointed out, even letting loose a little bit of his joviality. That wasn't an answer to his question, however. And Cameron wanted to give him one... or at least he thought was one. "We are healers. And sometimes you can heal one man with medicine, or a hundred men by plucking one bad one from the universe. It's the hard truth many doctors aren't willing to accept, however. And it has a cost to who you are... a significant one."

Ethan pointed to his arm. "I think I've already paid a price, don't you. I hardly see how killing the bastard could be even steeper of a price. Besides if I don't do it I'm pretty sure my fiance will and I don't want to burden him with that price."

Cameron shrugged. "Your arm can be replaced. I think there are some who would say that your soul is a different story. There's no prosthesis in the universe that can make up for the guilt of murdering someone - whether in cold blood or honorable combat." He was starting to sound like a counselor, and shook the feeling off. To keep from having to look at Ethan, Cameron stared into the console as though he were reviewing some part of the results. "I can't tell you what's right or wrong, Chaparral. It's for you to decide."

"Thank you for that Cameron. I'm mostly thinking out loud here, but I appreciate your being a sounding board. I guess I'll see you tomorrow. One more thing though, how soon before you can put me back on the schedule, return me to duty?"

Somehow it didn't feel right putting Ethan through the same standard he would any other member of the crew. Why Ethan hadn't been assigned as the new CMO was something he hadn't considered yet, but was beginning to. Typically, he'd expect an adjustment period of this nature to last as long as a month. But waiting that long didn't seem well suited for Ethan, particularly if he was consumed by a blood-lust. "When you feel ready, Chaparral." Cameron said simply.

"Thanks," the junior doctor replied. "I'll make that work."

A joint post by
Lieutenant K'am'mirh'un Tenm
CMO
&
Lt. Ethan Chaparral MD
ACMO