Nose And The Kid

Posted on Sun Jul 17th, 2011 @ 4:09pm by Lieutenant Torrna Maliya MD & Ensign Andrexi Callai MD

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: sometime after 'Checking Up, Switching Up'

ON:

There was finally some time now to sort out the paperwork for her department now, now that the Away Team was back and they were on their way to SB900. Well actually it was all done, all that was left to do was to offer the Assistant Chief Medical Officer to Dr. Callai and send that off to Personnel and the Surgeon General.

"Torrna to Callai, please report to my office." she said, tapping her commbadge.

As luck would have it, Andrexi was less than 25 meters from Sickbay, returning after treating a minor injury in the shuttle bay. He tapped his badge and reported that he was on his way.

While she waited, she wondered how they would work together. The processing and subsequent surgery of Lieutenant Idrani went very well, and Torrna was sattisfied the Kid had skill. That and he had very intriging eyes, no denying it. Would they work well? Time would tell.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked as he popped his head in the office a few seconds later.

"Pull up a chair." she motioned over to the chair on the opposite side of the desk as she stood up and headed for the replicator, "Drink?"

"Lyuula tea?" he asked hopefully as sat in the plush chair across the desk from her. He'd grown up on Lyuula tea on Betazed. It was a traditional drink, generally known for its cooling, soothing properties. He hadn't had it since he was at the Academy -- replicators at his last post hadn't exactly been programmed for a wide variety of food iteams.

"I'd like to hear your assessment of the Department, and personal opinion. I know you haven't had a chance yet to see and do all, just go with what you have so far." she said as she ordered the drinks.

"They seem pretty competent," he said. "They did well with our trauma experience. But I think we could do with some additional training and in-servicing."

She turned slowly with a tray, which held two cups. One which held Lyuula tea, and one which had Vulcan mocha, extra sweet. She set the tray on the table and handed him his cup first and then sat.

"I don't know if you've heard or not, but there's been some surprise reorganization of our ranks, now that everyone's back aboard." she said as she took a sip of her hot beverage. "Namely, I'm no longer the Surgeon. Doctor Serran is now. Which leaves me as Chief Medical Officer."

She set pale eyes on the pale eyed Betazoid, as if trying to read his mind. Or perhaps more like his pagh. Whichever it was, Maliya was staring.

"Which leaves me in need of an Assistant. I want you." she said finally, not beating about the bush.

"Me?" He looked surprised by the statement, his brow furrowing as he stared back. "I just got here. I don't know anything about running a Sickbay. My experience is all in the field."

Maliya grinned, "You learn while you live, my young friend." she chuckled, "Seriously though I started out as a Herbologist and combat medic when I started healing and supplied that with Surgery and Virology. And I ended up working as CMO and a Diagnostitian." she shrugged, "I think you'd do well...and if you ever want to make Chief some day, you'll need the experience. You don't have to say yes immediately. But think about it...you're good, you've got experience under your belt, you're not some greenhorn. I think you can do it. If you decide against it, I won't hold it against you, this is strictly volontary."

Andy raised an eyebrow skeptically, then scratched at his chin in thought as he looked out over Sickbay. "I think you're giving me far more credit than I deserve," he muttered quietly. He was silent for a long moment, biting his lower lip as he watched the staff in the main bay. "All right," he finally deicided, "I'll do it." He turned back to favor her with an uncomfortable look. "Just bear in mind that I have no idea what I'm doing..."

Maliya chuckled, "Noted. So, why ARE you a healer, Kid?"

"That's," his voice trailed off, "a very long story, actually..."

"I've got time." Maliya winked.

He regarded her carefully for a moment, his gaze slowly settling in on her nasal ridges. He didn't know her actual background, but if she lived in the Bajoran sector during the occupation... if anyone would understand his situation, it would be her. He rubbed at his chin. It was never an easy story to tell someone and he never seemed able to tell it the same way twice. "I met a medic during the Dominion occupation of Betazed. He saved my life," he admitted as he looked back up at her. "I was 12 years-old. And he taught me to be a medic."

She regarded him carefully, wondering silently if there was a specific reason he had been assigned to this ship. Both in the resistance, and the USS Warsaw, the medical ship participating in the Battle of Betazed, the ship she was on at the time. No...silly thoughts. Right? "My parents were from the healer caste, they, along with me and my sister were members of the Ornathia resistance cell on Bajor...they're the reason I became one." she shared in turn her reason. "I was there...at the Battle of Betazed..." as she said that, her eyes held sorrow, she would never wish a planetary occupation on anyone.

"Wasn't much of a battle," he said quietly as he took a sip of his tea. "At least not on our side. Not at first." He shrugged slightly. "Betazoids are peaceful. Until the invasion, we hadn't had a war for... almost 1,500 years," he added after a moment of mental calculation. "It's hard to fight an enemy of telepaths, when both sides can feel everything the other side is feeling." He snorted softly to himself. "There's a reason telepaths aren't usually militant."

"Yeah..." she sighed, "Look..if..you ever..." she started, wanting to say that if he ever wanted to talk about it, he could come to her, but she wasn't really sure how to say it.

He nodded his understanding. One of the benefits of being telepathic was sometimes you knew what someone else was saying before they said it. "Thank you." He took another long sip of the tea, enjoying the flavor again. It wasn't quite like his mother makes, but it was good. Maybe he would have to call her and have her send him a replicator pattern of her blend. "I don't regret the past. It shaped me into who I am. That's not to say I don't wish things could have been different," he looked back at her. "I lost most of my family in the occupation. They... tended to target the Houses."

This time she nodded in understanding. The Cardassians killed her own family when she was seven. Killed in an set-up raid. "That's how they keep them submissive. Go for the influential ones, to pacify the masses." she said, holding his eyes.

"Mm-hmm," he nodded again as he sipped at the tea. "Fortunately, that's one time being telepathic helped us. People were able to let others know what was happening. And then pass plans on to others. The Dominion didn't seem to have a way to stop Betazoid telepathy. And since you can't track it, the resistance didn't rely upon any communications they could overhear." He still remembered the speech given by the woman who would become leader of the resistance movement on Betazed, broadcast and then rebroadcast telepathically until it had encircled the planet. It had been a rallying cry full of passion, and had become one of the most well known speeches in the history of Betazed, likening the Jem'Hadar invaders as demons sent to destroy Betazed and drag them all into Phuul. He'd been wounded when she made that speech, his vision still hadn't recovered, leaving the world pitch black, a patchwork of empathic images and impressions from those around him. And in that moment, she had become his hero. He remembered every word, every passion filled tone. His vision drifted out of focus as he remembered the words he had played over and over in his mind in the ensuing days and weeks, as his vision slowly began to return. "'They knew Betazoids were pacifist and they thought that made us weak. They were wrong. What they didn't understand was that it takes more courage to be peaceful than it does to pick up a weapon. Betazoids aren't the aggressors. But we will end this occupation. We're good men, good women. We're strong in our courage and in our convictions. The time is now, for Betazed to stand together. To tell the demons that we will not sit idly by while they destroy our civilization, our very way of life. The demons chose this war and if there's one thing our long history tells us about demons, it is this: Demons run when good men go to war.'"

Maliya smiled a little as he spoke, the corners of her eyes glistening slightly. If there was one thing Torrna had been from when she was a kid, was a good cause. Maybe it was because she'd heard dozens of rallying speeches herself, maybe because this one touched her soul....didn't really matter. Her respect for the Kid grew as time went on.

"Damn...that was a good speech..." she said with earnest, wiping the corner of her eye.

"Delora Torr," Andy said, scratching his chin, "the mother of the Betazoid resistance. She brought Betazed into the war with that speech. Those words went from person to person telepathically, passed literally all the way around the planet in an hour. It was sort of... a magic moment. The first time I ever sensed that we were united, you know? That it was all of us together." He took another sip. "She's my hero."

"And now that everything is over, we put down our guns and do what we really do...what we really are...peaceful...healers." she said.

His eyes flicked away from hers, staring at the cool, dark liquid cradled between his hands. "I only touched a gun once." He took a long, slow sip of the tea, clearly haunted by that memory. "Never again."

She could understand his sentiment completely. It was how she had felt after she'd left Bajor. Except she was thrown a nasty curveball by the Prophets, so she believed, and landed with bloodied hands again. Now she believed it was not that simple. That if the Universe had different plans, there was little you could do to avoid them.

"In that case, if there's ever a need for it again...I'll hold them off while you fix." she chuckled bitterly, "I used to believe that I'd never pick up a gun...after I left Bajor. I believed I was in for a better life with Starfleet. A life of peace, exploration and learning. And then the Universe decided otherwise..." then the War happened.

"The universe is strange like that," he agreed softly with a small, tight, grim smile. "Starfleet gave me conscientious objector status when I joined. No weapons. A scalpel's the closest to a weapon I'm allowed to carry."

Maliya chuckled, "Don't they know we're more dangerous with our surgical tools than a gun?"

He smiled at that. "I don't think they've figured that out yet."

"Let's not help them then, eh?" Maliya added. "So, you ok with starting as my assistant from tomorrow?"

Andy nodded thoughtfully, then frowned. "Although be forewarned, Doctor. The way things seem to be going on this ship... doctor today, assistant CMO tomorrow... I'll probably have your job the next day and be captain by the end of the week."

Maliya leaned in and whispered conspiratorily, "Better you that me, Kid. I wouldn't poke at Command with a stick, let alone cross over." she added a wink and a grin to boot.

"I don't know," he said as he rubbed his jaw in careful consideration. "Admiral Callai kind of has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

She nodded, sagely, "Distinguished and yet not boring."

"Well," he admitted with a knowing nod, "there is that. I don't think my life has ever been boring..."

She smirked, watching him, "So...I understand when a Betazoid is from a certain house, it means a certain thing and you lot are basically royalty?"

His expression changed slightly, subtly. "It's... complicated," he finally said after a long moment. Before he could say more, he tossed back a long, slow, discomfited draw on the tea. "Yes," he said when he was done, "and no."

Maliya blinked, "Huh?"

"There are thirteen Houses of Betazed, each embodying a different theme or virtue. I'm from the Third House, which represents health." His expression twisted slightly. "Which actually has no relationship to why I'm a doctor." He took another sip. "At one time, the Houses were royalty passed on the maternal side. The matriarchs would be the queens. Her children the princesses and princes."

A nod of understanding, "I get it..I think." she chuckled as she sipped on her coffee. "Any of your family still alive?" she asked again, wondering what else they had similar.

Andy looked away again, out into Sickbay at the staff milling around talking during a quiet moment. "My grandmother was our matriarch. IS our matriarch," he corrected himself immediately, peering into himself as he wondered just when he had stopped thinking of her in the present tense. When he became aware that she was watching him, he shrugged it off. "She, uh, she disappeared during the occupation. There's still evidence she survived, but no one has heard from her since the occupation." Twelve years, he mused to himself. Half his lifetime. "My mother's been serving as matriarch since the war. My sister was the heir, but she..." He shook his head, lips pressed tightly together.

She nodded simply. Some sentiments you dodn't need to be a mind-reader for. "You're lucky someone's still alive. My immediate family was killed by Cardassians when I was seven, parents and a sister. When the Occupation ended..I learned I had three cousins alive. One of them is the XO of the USS Revan.." she said, to share and to give him a moment to compose himself. "I'm the last of the Torrna line...thousands of years as one of the carriers of the Le'Harana caste..the healer caste..and now all that's left is me."

The younger doctor nodded understandingly. "It's just my mother and me now. Well," he made a slight face, "and some extended family. But..." He shrugged, his meaning clear. "No one in the line of succession."

"Except you."

"Except me," he agreed with a sigh and a nod. "And I... was never supposed to be heir."

"That kind of thinking will just leave you depressed. The facts say that now you are." she shrugged, "You need to go from that."

"Well," he held up his mug of tea in a toast, "here's to a very, very, very long and healthy life for my mother."

She grinned and raised her mug as well, clinking it against his, "Here here.."