I'm a Doctor, Not a Doctor

Posted on Sun Sep 18th, 2016 @ 3:49am by Captain Rueben Gregnol
Edited on on Sun Sep 18th, 2016 @ 4:21pm

Mission: Mission 2 - Contagion
Location: Deck 7- Sickbay
Timeline: MD 03 - 20:00 hours
1473 words - 2.9 OF Standard Post Measure

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Rueben frowned as he wandered along into the dreary corridor that led to the poor excuse for sickbay. The former Starfleet Executive Officer didn’t enjoy cryptic summons especially from someone he barely knew – his … Barton’s misinformed guest to come straight to sickbay like it was a life and death matter. He walked into Sickbay and stopped dead as he saw Dixoho strapped up to machines. Had this been why he had been summoned?

"Mister…" He paused remembering that the Bolian was a fully qualified doctor who deserved addressing by his title. "I mean Doctor Mott." He called louder this time hoping to be heard this time being politer. He walked over to Dixoho pulling the paper chart to him trying to see what was wrong with his Chief Navigator.

"Just Dr. Olsam," Olsam said, popping up behind a 23rd-century excuse for a medcart (it had literal wheels, which he found appalling). For a man of such substantial girth, he managed to move stealthily. The quiet movement was all the more surprising considering the Bolian was dressed from head-to-toe in a bio-hazard contamination suit. "Meaning that calling me Dr. Olsam will suffice, not calling me Just Dr. Olsam." He shook his head, like he was confusing himself. "Can I help you with something, Captain?"

Rueben turned and raised an eyebrow as he sat the Bolian wearing the suit. Should he be wearing one of them? Well it was too late for him now, he was obviously infected now. "Doctor Olsam... you called me here." He said shortly.

"Oh! Oh, yes, you're right, I did ask you down here," Olsam said, laughing. The laugh was short-lived, however, because he didn't think the captain was a man who enjoyed laughter. He seemed very sober. Too sober, really. Much like most of the security and intelligence types he'd known in the fleet. "You see, there are a lot of people getting sick on this ship. Take this lady here." The Bolian motioned to the red-haired woman on the table with a gloved hand. He picked up the paper chart that contained his own diagnosis scribbled in Federation Standard. "She's nearly dead, I think."

"Sick..." He said striding over to Dixoho more grabbing up a tricorder scanning her. He didn't like the readings he got back. What was going? How could people be getting sick, they hadn't been alerted by the air purifiers or bio hazards by something coming onboard. "What is going on? Where is Talon?" He demanded looking around for the man he had put in charge.

"The other doctor?" Olsam asked. He looked thoughtful and then shrugged with his hands so that it could be seen despite the suit. "I don't know. Dead, maybe? Have you tried looking for his body?"

Rueben frowned looking around for Lieddem, if Talon wasn't here the Betazoid had to be in Sickbay. Medical had to be covered at all times, seeing no one and hearing no other noise he frowned.

"No... because I've just got here after you requested me here. I get here and you tell me my Navigator is pretty much dead and so is my doctor... and you are wearing a hazmat suit that has a hole in it." He pointed to where the suit had a slight rip in the boot.

Olsam looked down at the boot and frowned at the rip. Given the deplorable state of everything else on this ship, he wasn't altogether surprised by it. Even so, he'd have to put himself through decontamination procedures and try to repair the suit without earning the ire of the chief engineer, who was watching him like a hawk after he'd "acquired" some items from around the ship.

Rueben finally took in a deep breath and sighed. "So back to my Doctor..." He questioned as he put down Dixoho's pile of paper charts down. It was easy to see she was struggling to breath.

Olsam looked down at Dixoho and seemed confused for a minute. Was she a doctor, too? The captain's personal physician? He'd thought she was just the chief navigator... Then it clicked. Rueben meant the actual doctor, the one that was missing, the one they'd referenced earlier. He laughed, only to himself, then remembered his assumption that the captain hated laughing and awkwardly stopped mid-laugh.

"Right. Your doctor. Well, I haven't seen him. I've been running this place by myself. Not that it takes much, mind you, especially given what's available around here. Do you know we have some sort of resource shortage? As captain, you really ought to do something about that," Olsam chided. "So, anyway... He might be dead. Which is just as well because I don't think he was even a licensed doctor. Did you know he gave her a saline spray?" He gestured toward Dixoho and the paper chart detailing her medications. "Probably what's killing her. What sort of backwater colonial herbalist gives someone a saline spray?"

"You’ve not seen Lieddem… The Medic,Tall, Brown hair, Marine like?" Rueben wondered looking around before his eyes fell on Dixoho again really worrying about her, for all her faults she was too young to be out here and now in a life and death situation. "Talon wouldn’t have hurt her. He was doing his best I am sure." He couldn’t fault the Bajoran in the slightest for the medical care that had been received by himself at all, his shoulder wasn’t hurting.

"Who's Lieddem?" Olsam blurted out. Then held up his hands and shook them, like he wanted to erase them. "Oh, him! Him. Right. Big fellow, dark eyes. Sorta broody. I don't know where he went. He was here..." Olsam turned around and peered into the depths of Sickbay, then suddenly seemed to remember she'd said something else. "Doing his best? Well... Maybe. Of course, what with the state of the ship and all it's hard to tell one's best from one's worst."

"You forget Doctor Olsam, I took this ship over from a rogue who got you on-board along with myself under false pretences and we had less at that point because he sold it all. We are both Starfleet so I really get where you are coming from." The Russian admitted his own career before he had ended up in the back end of the universe. "I am used to top of the line medical care and facilities, I wish we had more but we really don’t. What do you need urgently now that can fix her and anyone else coming in if you are saying people are getting sick?"

Olsam's lips wiggled around like he was literally chewing the question. "I've already gotten a lot of things from Engineer Gordon, but none of it's infectious disease sort of stuff. Assuming it's even an infectious disease. It probably is though. Likely, at least." He rubbed at a non-existent beard on his chin. "I can link to Starfleet Medical's databases myself, but I need analysis equipment to know what I'm looking for. Except... I don't want anything to do with that red-headed he-devil guarding it all down in sciences. You know the one, pasty skin, murderous eyes, bits of spittle in the corners of his mouth. Could you get it for me?"

Rueben raised an eyebrow at the Bolian and shook his head. He wasn't mothering the crew, they needed to learn to work together. "I don't understand the issue so you will have to be nice and ask him yourself especially as Talon is AWOL you are the only Doctor so all of this is your responsibility." The Russian said simply his accent thickening for a moment. He really was going to search the ship for Joss.

Olsam took all that in with a look that indicated the wheels of his mind were slowly turning. In the end, he didn't look particularly happy about having to face 'the red-headed he-devil' or now being the only doctor on the ship. He was accustomed to being responsible for a ship full of well-disciplined Starfleet personnel, not a bunch of... Whatever these people were. Pirates? Mercenaries? Antiquities dealers?

"Fine. Fine, fine. I'll ask him. But at the first sign of trouble, I'm shooting him," the Bolian said, patting the holster of his Polarized Phase Blaster MK IX from Dai-Matsa Consolidated, also known as 'the PPB' or 'the Mark Nine.' "Don't worry about the health of the crew. I've fought off deadlier diseases than this before. Except that one time... Whew, that was tragic. Really tragic." Olsam shook his bald head with a grave look on his face, as if mourning the dead. "Anyway. We'll probably be fine."

OFF::

Rueben Gregnol
Captain
SS Mary Rose

Olsam Mott, M.D.
Ship's Doctor
SS Mary Rose