All My Transfer Orders I Carry With Me

Posted on Thu Jul 7th, 2011 @ 11:31pm by Lieutenant Torrna Maliya MD & Ensign Andrexi Callai MD

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Transporter Room 2 / various
Timeline: following 'Disorderly Conduct'

ON:

Torrna had been the duty Doctor when she got the inquiry about one Andrexi Callai MD. Who was he? Was he assigned to this ship? Were they sure he was who he said he was? A LOT of Security questions. She searched the latest communications from Personnel and Starfleet Medical. It turned out that his transfer orders were sent directly to Sickbay instead of the proper channels. That and with Lieutenant Serran away, it didn't get handled in time. Kar'G must have missed this aswell.

Maliya downloaded the young Betazoid's transfer orders to a PaDD and headed down to Transporter Room 2 to rescue the young man from the mentally degrading influence of your regular Security Joe. Several minutes later, she strolled into the Transporter Room waving the PaDD about.

"Alright, Duty Doctor is here. Who needs transfer orders?" she asked, looking around, nodding to the younger man.

Andrexi studied the new arrival curiously, then pointed subtly toward the rather large security man on his right. Mr. Left seemed content to take his time and work out the situation. He oozed a sense that he believed Callai was who he said he was and had merely been lost in the bureaucratic red tape. He appeared willing to take all the time needed to ensure his identity and orders.

Mr. Right, however, Andy was slowly growing to think may benefit from some anger management counseling. There was a fury of some sort, seething barely beneath the surface as if it was ready to explode through the surface at a moment's notice. To him, this new man claiming to be a doctor transferring to the ship was obviously an imposter who needed taken down a few notches for daring to try to board his ship.

As Mr. Right scrutinized the orders carefully, clearly observing for a missed dot over an electronic I, a failure to cross a T, or an indication of forgery to the signatures, Andy met eyes with the Bajoran and nodded appreciatively. After a long minute of examining the orders, Mr. Right grumbled that he was free to go on his way.

"Thank you," Andy said with a nod and a smile as he rose to his feet. "Chief?" he directed toward the transporter operator.

The transporter chief nodded. "I'll have your belongings transported from storage to your quarters before we leave, sir."

"Thank you," he said again. He turned back to the Bajoran with a smile and gestured toward the doorway with a gentlemanly flair to indicate that she should precede him. As they entered the corridor and the door closed behind him, he favored her with an amused smile. "Thanks for the rescue. Although I think Mr. Right was a little disappointed that he didn't get to shoot me, or at least tackle me..."

Maliya chuckled, "Kid, a lesson you should never forget, whenever you get transferred, carry a copy of your orders, or this may happen again, or worse." she looked over at the strangely grey-eyed Betazoid. "I'm Doctor Torrna, Ship's Surgeon...was the duty Doctor and bored so I came down to spring you. You're Callai?"

"Andrexi Callai. Andy," he added with a nod and an open, disarming smile. "Trauma and emergency medicine." He continued to walk alongside her, somehow amused by the 'kid' moniker he'd already managed to acquire. His expression twisted in thought. "I didn't actually have to bring my orders for my last post. They just took me straight from San Francisco."

Maliya chuckled, "Make it a habit, it'll come in handy." she said as they headed towards a turbolift. "So Trauma and Emergency Medicine. I like your choices. How many years on the job?"

Without really realizing, Maliya was making notes of the Kid's abilities to know at first glance what she could use him for if ever needed. It was something she always did as Chief and when she was in the field on the Warsaw. Always know your people, it could save your life one day.

"Two years with Project Arrowhead," he said of Starfleet Medical's humanitarian arm. Arrowhead was generally the specialized wing sent into disaster areas or ongoing war zones. "We were stationed in the Anzati system." The interstellar war being conducted there had been long, bloody, and brutal. The learning and training experience in trauma medicine had been spectacular, but he found himself looking forward to practicing medicine without body armor or the ground tremors from nearby explosions.

"Good, you've got the experience under fire should we need it." said Maliya as they entered the Turbolift. "So what's with your eyes?" she asked bluntly as they entered. "What deck are your quarters on?"

The kid was intriguing, a grey-eyed Betazoid with actual combat medicine experience. Maliya always appreciated people who had such experience. Saving lives behind sheltered places was all well and good, but it wasn't until one actually got out there that real skill and knowledge was tested as battle waged around you.

A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's a genetic trait from my mother's side. All male Callai have them. Some female," he added with a shrug. "The women usually don't express it, but my mother and grandmother have them. Had them." He glanced away and made a face. After all these years, he still wasn't sure how to refer to his missing grandmother -- in the present or past tense. "We don't produce the black eye pigment other Betazoids do. We're more sensitive to bright light than your average Betazoid, but otherwise it's all superficial."

"So it's a defect..." the pale eyed Bajoran stared at the pale eyed Betazoid. "Good looking defect though."

Whilst most would take this as an insult, Maliya was actually handing out a compliment, in her socially awkward and somewhat non-caring way.

He looked at her quizzically, somehow amused by her response. "Thanks," he studied her curiously, "I think." He chuckled quietly. "It's a genetic defect," he admitted with a shrug as he returned his attention forward, glancing down the corridor to the left and right as they pulled to a stop at an intersection, "unique to the Third House. There are records of it going back over a thousand years." He paused and glanced at her. "You know, now that I think about it," he decided after a moment of indecision of where to go, "I don't remember ever actually getting a communique with a quarters assignment..."

And a facepalm and a snort-chuckle came as a response to his sentence. "Oh kid..." Maliya sighed but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

This one wasn't afraid of her, and didn't take her words too heart too much. She liked that.

"Actually, it should be on the PaDD, I think I pulled everything when I went down to spring you." she said finally, remembering.

"It's my first starship assignment...?" he said defensively, shrugging with an embarrassed smile. He leaned over to peer down at the padd in her hand, scanning through the lines as she scrolled. "There," he pointed a finger at the display. "It appears I owe you twice now, Doctor," he said as he looked back up, finding he number on the nearest door and orienting himself.

"Anyway...I'll leave you to it. I'll go sign you in now and I'll Doctor Kar'G will send you your shift rotation. So watch out for that." Torrna said, "Welcome aboard and all that.."

"Thanks." He watched as she began to walk away, shaking his head in amusement at the Bajoran who'd rescued him. Judging by the four Arizona personnel he'd met so far -- the doctor, the transporter chief, and the two security officers -- something told him this assignment would be... memorable.