RIO

Starfleet Academy / San Francisco / Earth


The newly-minted Ensign Duet stood alone in a crowd of celebration. All around her former cadets gathered in their social pods congratulating each other on their graduations, speculating on that all-important first assignment, and wishing each other well on their next endeavors.

But Duet stood alone. She had observed that no one had moved for the parade ground's exit yet, and knew that leaving social gatherings earlier than what was deemed acceptable by her peers (which was always far longer than she believed adequate) was considered impolite. So she instead busied herself by peering down into her ever-present PADD to review the neutron flow project she had been assisting Commander Allbritton with during her "off time".

Soon the conversations around her became accented with gasps, cheers, laughter and a chorus of tellarite complaints as her fellow graduates began receiving their new orders via PADD. Duet arched an eyebrow curiously as the notification light begins to blink on her own device, but doesn't bother to check it yet. There was still work to be done on the commander's project and she was so close too--

"Heya, Bug!" Duet didn't need to look up from her work to know who was addressing her, but did anyway. Not acknowledging someone with your eyes and continuing to work in their presence was considered rude. She had been working on that.

"Hello, Zina," Duet replied and clutched the PADD tight against her chest lest she be tempted to return to her work. Zina was a tall Orion girl, standing over six feet with curly red hair and a shade of green skin that was considered exotically pale by her people. She was also the only person who playfully called Duet "Bug" (although after three years of sharing quarters she still didn't know why) and liked having her physical features complimented. "You look well," Duet replied.

"Yeah, exciting right? I just got my orders...I'm assigned to the Unity!" Zina gushed with her usual exuberance.

"Congratulations. You will do well there." Unity was assigned to ambassadorial duties, and Duet knew her now former roommate was tailor made for such work.

"How about you? Have you received your orders yet?" the Orion asked excitedly.

"Yes."

"Annnnnd?" Zina urged her friend on, then correctly read the silence between them. "You haven't even read the notification yet, have you?" she sighed.

"The notification is irrelevant. Shuttles don't leave until tomorrow. I can still invest almost ten hours into Commander Allbritton's project if I leave now. I'm so close to reversing the pol--"

"Bug?" Zina interrupted her with a calming touch to Duet's shoulder. "That can wait for five seconds," she said in her soothing, 'Big Sister' voice. "Celebrating your first assignment is a pretty big deal. It's tradition."

Duet felt her brow dampen in anxious sweat and kept her eyes low from Zina's as she flipped the PADD back over to review the notification. "U.S.S. Deimos."

"See?" her friend chirped with enthusiasm. "That's great, right?"

"I do not know."

"Well, at least it sounds nice," she smiled encouragingly.

"Deimos is the ancient Earth God of Terror," Duet deadpanned. Zina cringed and a moment of silence that bordered on comical fell between them. Duet's head leaned to the side and spied a veritable horde of cadets gathered a comfortable distance away and patiently awaiting the most popular girl on campus to finish her goodbyes so they could get on with their post-graduation revelry.

Zina acknowledged the group with a glance back over her shoulder. "We're going to Boothby's for drinks. You should come with!"

It was an offer made for the sake of politeness as they had danced this dance many times over the years and already knew how things were going to turn out. "Thank you, but I can still assist Commander Allbritton before I am required to report to the shuttles. Please share my congratulations with your friends."

"Alright," Zina sighed in defeat. She smiled, eyes looking more damp than usual and adopted a caring, protective tone to her already sisterly demeanor. "Remember... those pretty ears of yours don't have points on them, so people are going to expect you to loosen up a little..."

"I will try."

"... relax.  Don't sit so straight."

"I will try."

"And smile some.  People feel at ease when they see smiles," she advised.  To appease her friend, Duet forced a wide, almost comically so, grin -- big eyes and lots of polished white teeth.  "See there?" Zina giggled.  "You're beautiful.  How could anyone resist that smile?"

Resistance is futile.  "I will try.  To smile more."

"And your contractions," the sisterly orion added with a smile.  "Work on your contractions.  You don't want to sound funny to the new crew."

"I will try..." Duet began, but stopped herself.  "I'll miss you."

Zina felt a pang in her chest, her voice caught in her throat.  She threw her arms around the shorter girl in a tight embrace.  "I'll miss you too, bug," she managed as a tear rolled down her pale green cheek.  "Knock 'em dead, kid.  And comm me when you make it to ship."

Duet nodded as she broke their embrace, then offered a wave farewell as the roommates went their separate ways.  If she hurried, Duet could still have 9.64 hours with the commander's neutron flow regulator before morning call.


USS Deimos / Starbase 621 / Six Days Later

Ensign Duet strode across the transparent gangway attaching Starbase 621 to the Deimos; a cadet's march -- back straight and steps evenly spaced.  She traveled light with only a three-quarters empty duffel slung over one shoulder and a toolkit gripped tight in her left hand.  Her PADD ('security blanket' is what Zina called it) was fastened to her waist.  Around her familys embraced and bid farewell to each other and she passed a dozen crewmen gazing longingly at the starship and posing for holocaptures before boarding.   A pair of gold-uniformed security personnel stood at the end of the gangway, passing a scanner across all who sought entry.

The one on the left aimed the scanner at her and a second later a feminine, computerized voice chimed, "Duet.  Ensign.  Assistant Chief Engineer.  Clearance accepted."

"You're all clear, Ensign," the officer smiled.  "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you."

In the corridor beyond, Duet paused to address a wall terminal.  "Computer.  Identify the Chief of Engineering?"

"That information is not available."

Duet arched an eyebrow.  "Who is currently supervising the Engineering Department?"

"That information is not available."

"Protocol is for junior engineering officers to check in with the department head.  Who should I check in with?"

"That information is not available."

The ensign felt anxiety beginning to creep in and swallowed.  "Then... who... where..." If there was one thing Duet did not care for it's not knowing what she is supposed to be doing.  "This unit requires direction."

"Please state the location you desire," the computer voice toned.

Oh, this was not good.  This is how panic attacks start.  "No, not directions.  I need direction.  Orders.  What am I supposed to do?"

"Junior officers are required to check in with their respective department heads immediately upon boarding."

This is not good... not good at all...  "P~please inform me the moment the Chief Engineer arrives," she stammers nervously and shuffles down the hall.  If the Chief Engineer is not here, who do I check in with?  The XO?  Or Security?  Am I supposed to go to medical for review??

As James sat in his office, absolutely dreading what the Supply Officer would find when he finished the inventory he was currently working on, he received notification of the arrival of yet another member of the crew. In fact, notifications were rolling in in a pretty steady stream as the personnel said their goodbyes and came aboard. One name caught his immediate attention. Her name was Duet, and she was a liberated Borg. This would mean having to periodically correct issues with her Borg implants. While her medical record, transmitted from the Academy, seemed to be pretty normal, he saw that she would soon be due for another examination, so he might as well get it done with as soon as possible. He quickly tapped his combadge.

=/\= "Doctor Stewart to Ensign Duet. Please report to sickbay as soon as you get a chance. While it isn't due for a couple of weeks yet, I'd like to conduct your annual physical, make sure that everything is alright, and validate the previous physical. Additionally, this will allow me to enter you into our database as an active member of the crew and will prevent any possibility of you being removed from the active list due to the lack of a physical if you find yourself too busy in the coming weeks to come in and have it done," he said. He thought perhaps the thorough explanation for wanting to do it as soon as possible, and pointing out the ramifications of not doing it on time, might just be what she needed to get it done as soon as possible.

Duet waited patiently for the verbose doctor to finish, then simply replied =/\= "Acknowledged. On my way." She turned for the turbolift, silently thankful for the doctor's fortuitous timing as it was granting her the direction she needed. For the time being.



Sickbay

Finding sickbay was a simple matter; she had memorized every deck, corridor and Jefferies tube of Steamrunner class starships during her voyage to the Starbase. The door opened with an audible *swish* and the ensign stepped through. "Hello. Ensign Duet reporting."

"Ah, yes, Ensign. I didn't necessarily mean for you to report here bags and all, I was merely suggesting that after unpacking you might want to see me. But, since you're here, when would you like to schedule your examination for? I have all times and all days currently available, at least, until I'm done reviewing everyone's medical records. I just happen to be snagging new crew as they come on board," explained James as Henry stepped out of the Pharmacy and into the main sickbay.

"My presence is not currently required for other duties," Duet replied politely and set her toolkit and light duffel against the wall. "Delaying will only be a later inconvenience." She turned and climbed up onto the edge of an examination table, sitting straight with her legs hanging off the edge. "Can you tell me who this ship's Chief of Engineering is? The computer has been unhelpful."

"Well, Ensign, here's the thing. We don't actually have a Chief Engineer at this time," said James. "According to the records I could access, the Chief Engineer who was supposed to be assigned to us was arrested for treason and espionage," he continued.

Looking over his shoulder he hollered at the supply officer, "Get me a medical tricorder, a cortical stimulator, a sonic retinal dilator, an optical nerve tester, and also a microscrewdriver," he ordered.

As the supply officer brought over the equipment, James immediately saw something that was wrong. "Ensign, I said a sonic retinal dilator...NOT a laser scalpel. I would suggest that you correct the deficiency immediately. Additionally, you have just proven that you don't know what half the stuff you have been requisitioning without anyone in sickbay authorizing the requisitions has been. Fix the deficiency immediately and do NOT ever place requisition orders on behalf of my sickbay ever again," he added as he turned back to Duet and began the Ensign's physical.

"Ensign, have you been experiencing any pain associated with any of your remaining implants lately?" he asked as he ran the medical tricorder over her.

"No, sir," Duet replied with hands folded in her lap. The doctor's outburst towards his subordinate was unexpected, but didn't elicit a response from the new ensign. The news of the ship's Chief Engineer, however, sparked her curiosity. "Treason and espionage?" she prompted. "What did they do?" She paused a moment in thought and mused aloud, "I hope they were discovered before they were able board."

"Well, it would seem that they were in collusion with the previous Chief Medical Officer," explained James as he continued his scans and made a couple minor adjustments to her implants to get them back into what modern medicine defined as perfect calibration. "To create biogenic weapons. It turns out that Starfleet finally caught onto the scheme when Starfleet Medical conducted a thorough examination of all medical requisitions within our particular fleet. This ship was discovered as having been requisitioning a whole lot of things that we shouldn't have needed or didn't need. We're still dealing with the fallout from it and having to return items that were requested in excesses while getting what was never requisitioned but should have been. They weren't caught before boarding, but rather when they attempted to take and sell the manufactured and thoroughly concealed biogenic weapons on the black market," he said as he finished the examination. "Essentially, that is all you have clearance to know, that several of the previous senior officers were manufacturing and selling illegal biogenic weapons without their Commanding Officer being aware of it, and as such, we are now having to deal with efforts to replace them and replenish the crew of this ship. Fortunately, we're under a new Commanding Officer and once the old issues have been resolved, her command should smooth out quite a bit. Now, I've re-calibrated several of your implants which were only slightly out of calibration. They should be functioning at normal now, according to specs acquired after the return of Voyager with Seven of Nine aboard. Now, if for some reason you experience any problems with the new calibrations, come see me immediately. We aren't sure if the collective is using a standardized one size fits all approach or if they are using a unique calibration for each individual unit. Let's see here. Also, I noticed some minor issues with elevated blood pressure and temperature. A small blood sample will be required in order to ensure that it isn't your body fighting a minor infection. Additionally, I'm giving you a shot to reduce your fever and to bring your blood pressure down some. Come see me in two days for a follow up on the blood sample and also for a quick review to make sure the fever and blood pressure stayed down," he said. "One other thing, don't ask any more questions on the treason and espionage matter, you'll be told what you need to know when the time is right, we don't want to get in trouble for telling you more than you're cleared to know," he added.

"Of course," replied Duet as the doctor finished adjusting her ocular prosthesis. She had other questions, such was her curious nature, but kept them to herself. The doctor was almost certainly correct in believing she did not have the appropriate clearance. "I should check in with whoever is currently supervising engineering to see if they require assistance. If any of the presumed traitors had access to the ship's systems, especially priority access, protocol would call for a Level 5 Security-mode Diagnostic be run on all systems including a purge of the datacore. That is a lengthy and laborious process," Duet explained as she stood from the exam table, but did not turn for the exit. Instead she politely prompted the doctor with, "If your examination is complete..."

"Of course, Ensign. You may leave. Remember to see me in a couple of days for the followup on the items we discussed," replied James as he escorted her to the sickbay door.

"Thank you, Doctor. It was nice meeting you," Duet said with a forced smile before fetching her belongings and exiting the sickbay.



A post featuring Doctor James Stewart and Ensign Duet.

USS Deimos
Deck 3
Officer Quarters
Stewart/Mayhew-Stewart Quarters


James and Henry finished unpacking what little they had brought with them in their quarters. A couple minutes after unpacking James realized what they hadn't yet done.

"Oh shit!!" he exclaimed.

"What is it, honey?" asked Henry.

"We forgot to check in with the Commanding Officer before unpacking!!" exclaimed James. "Standard procedure is to report to your quarters to unload your luggage, meet with the Commanding Officer, and then to unpack your belongings. We have just done everything out of sequence, and you can bet that the Shuttle Pilot or the crew of the Shuttle Bay have already reported our arrival to the Commanding Officer. We have essentially kept her waiting for the last two hours and she has been very patient and polite to not call and ask us where the hell we are."

"Let's get moving, honey. Best that we not keep her waiting any longer," said Henry.

A few seconds later they were flying through the hallway to the turbolift. Upon reaching the turbolift, they issued the command to go to the bridge. Moments later James' combadge chirped.

=/\= "Lieutenant Stewart, this is Petty Officer Cha-Lee, Captain Chernova's Yeoman. The Captain would like to know why you haven't deigned to report in officially yet, despite being aboard for at least two hours. I suggest that you come to her Ready Room immediately, with cap in hand and throw yourself upon her supreme mercy."=/\= Came the cultured bass tones of the Captain's sehlat Yeoman.

=/\= "Thank you, Petty Officer Cha-Lee. Our turbolift is dropping us on the Bridge in about three seconds," =/\= replied James with an aggravated tone. He hated the way that universal translators distorted the voice of those that had to use them in day to day interactions with others.

As the doors to the turbolift flew open, James and Henry were in a dead sprint all the way to the Ready Room doors. They rapidly fired the door chime in rapid sequence, already aware that there was probably a storm brewing inside from waiting on them for so long.

Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

Ana sat at her desk, piled high with PADDs. She picked up a supply request, skim reading it she thought. 'Why do we need 6000 laser cutters and only 3 medical tri-corders? I swear that supply officer of mine can't even count.'

The chime rang and She called"Enter." A little more gruffly than she meant to.

Quickly and composedly marching into the Ready Room, James sounded off with his report. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Stewart and Mr. Mayhew-Stewart reporting as ordered, ma'am," he said practically barking each word. Seeing how she grimaced at the practical barking, he realized that sounding off like a drill instructor would may not have been the best idea.

"At ease, Lieutenant." Ana said rising. "And please use your 'inside voice'. I may be over two centuries old, but I'm assured my hearing is perfect."

"Sorry about that, ma'am," he replied. "We were trained to sound off when reporting. Having been a bit late, I guess I just went a bit overboard," he said. "Might I add that for being over two centuries old, you certainly don't look a day over twenty," he added. He could tell from the slight frown that crossed Henry's face that Henry felt that was probably not the brightest thing to say when attempting to issue a compliment.

"I apologize for my husband, ma'am. He was just a little stunned by what you said about your age. I must also apologize for delaying him. I had forgotten the routine since it has been a while since I had to report alongside him. Most of our previous ships' Commanders had only ordered that he reported and then met me in sickbay at other points in time. As such, I forgot that we should have reported immediately and instead distracted him by beginning the unpacking," said Henry as he looked Ana directly in the eyes.

"Apologies accepted, Lieutenant, Mr. Stewart. You may both take a seat. " She said directing them to the chairs in front of her desk before retaking her own. "You will find that I'm not a stickler for the regs, but reporting to myself or my XO in a timely manner once you're aboard, is also about showing respect for myself as well as my position. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied James.

"Understood, ma'am," replied Henry. "As I was saying, I distracted James from reporting to you by starting to unpack, which normally we wait to do together. I guess the few months we both spent as civilians while dealing with the fallout of the Liberator's presumed destruction must have left us a bit scattered on what our routine normally is," he continued.

"Anyways," said James as he cleared his throat and shot a warning look at Henry, "We are reporting as your Chief Medical Officer and your Head Nurse. Is there anything we should know before we find any nasty surprises in sickbay?" he asked. The last thing he wanted was any discussion of the Liberator at all. The last thing he needed was to accidentally say anything that might be considered as classified information.

Ana ignored Henry's references to the Liberator. The incident was classified and she had much more important things to do if she was going to get this ship to launch on time. She waved her hand dismissing the man's explanation.

Ana smiled. "Welcome aboard, both of you. As for any nasty surprises in Sickbay, you might not find that you have all the equipment you may need, because it appears my Supply Officer is incompetent at best, or is intentionally trying to drive me made at worst."

"Why do you say that ma'am?" asked James. "Before I assume responsibility for sickbay, it might be nice to see what we currently have inventoried down there, evaluate what we need to requisition for a ship this small, and determine what has already been requisitioned. Additionally, with your permission, I'd like to retrieve some personally owned items that should be of use in improving our sickbay and its efficiency," he said.

Ana picked up a PADD and handed it to James. "That is just one of the requisition reports he's sent me. I'm no medic, but I'm sure we need more than three medical tricorders and probably don't need 6000 laser cutters."

"But, he's my problem, you have my permission to run Sickbay in any way you see fit. When you've made your evaluations about what's needed for Sickbay, bring your requisitions directly to me."

"Ma'am, unless those laser scalpels are disposable, no, we don't need 6,000 of them. Indeed only 100 should be necessary in a worst case scenario. As for medical tricorders, generally I like to keep about ten or twenty on hand at a minimum, however, ideally I like to have one for every member of the crew with the extra wiggle room for fifty extra people, in the event that something happens anyone could be called on to be a nurse or a medic and would need those," said James as he frowned at the request. "If this is at all indicative of what to expect, I'd like to request to see every single requisition for sickbay equipment made prior to this point so that I know what kind of catastrophe awaits me," he added. "Here is a PADD indicating my minimal expectations equipment-wise in a ship of this size. I will bring a PADD tomorrow containing the comparison of what we have versus what we need and what should be placed in cargo bays as equipment to be traded or gifted to ships that may need them during whatever adventure awaits us. As for your supply officer, I'd like to speak with him tomorrow morning at 0900, if you don't mind. I guess you could say that I'd like to find out who the hell has been requisitioning equipment for my department without my authorization or my signature, and when it became standard procedure for such requisitions to be placed without the properly authorized signature of the Chief Medical Officer," he said. "I think you'll find that after a brief conversation with me, he will be walking on eggshells and double-checking his work before bringing it to you, especially after he sees the list of regulations that this requisition by itself violates," he added in a cautiously optimistic way.

Ana stifled a laugh as she pictured Ensign Mikelsen getting a dressing down form the CMO. "By all means, Lieutenant." She said.

"Excellent, ma'am," he said with a grin on his face. "Please ensure that he brings copies of every single requisition for sickbay with him. I want them itemized by date and exactly what was requisitioned, if it takes him all night to do it, even better," he said. "In fact, after I give him the dressing down, I plan to have HIM take inventory of everything in that sickbay for me, especially since he requisitioned it all. I think that should sufficiently drill the point in and save us both the hassle of having to worry about him in the future," he added. "As for those items that I intend to bring from my home, those should help counterbalance the damages he has caused, at least to some extent. Among them, you will find that I intend to upgrade our EMH to the latest version of the program. A large portion of them are merely recent modifications to old tools, however, a decent section of it is the latest in experimental medical technologies, which I have had the great fortune of being trained in how to use," he added.

"Fine, I'll have my Yeoman contact him and make sure he's punctual." Ana said. "Now, if there is nothing else, Gentlemen, then you're both dismissed."

"Thank you, ma'am," said James. "It would seem that I'm going to enjoy working with you," he added.

"It has been not only a pleasure but an honor to get to meet you, ma'am," said Henry. "I'm sure we'll have a few questions later, especially after sorting out sickbay and the medical records. Depending on my husband here, you may see me more often than you might see him. I tend to end up being the runner, gopher is what I believe the old Earth expression for it was, when things need to get done," he said with a slight grin on his face. "Please don't be surprised or alarmed if most of your meetings that aren't senior staff meetings or briefings, end up being with me. It's simply a matter of me handling most of our administrative tasks," he explained as he held out his hand to shake hers. Meanwhile, James was beating a hasty retreat towards the door and practically dragging Henry with him by the arm.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I feel the same way." Then to Henry she said. "Understood, I look forward to it, Mr. Mayhew-Stewart."

When they were gone, Ana smiled to herself that was until she remembered the huge pile of PADDs on her desk.

A JP with Lt. Commander Anahera Chernova, Lt jg/Dr. James Stewart IV and Nurse Henry Mayhew-Stewart.

Irina was muttering nonsense to herself as she exited the turbolift. Her palms were moist and her mouth was dry, her heart rate slightly elevated and her red hair slightly disheveled. She'd been hoping to get some extra time to mingle with the ship's crewmen, and avoid seeing the ship's physician until she absolutely needed to—which appears to be the case for the moment. She would normally have had her medication ready to go, but she didn't bring it with her on to the ship. She wanted to avoid all the questions the security officers would ask, such as: Why do you have two dozen loaded hyposprays in your duffel bag? The fewer people that knew of her condition, the better. Irina took another left turn down the corridor, and entered sickbay. She didn't know if it was purely her own anxiety, or some cacophony of emotions she began to feel upon entering; she awkwardly blurted out, "I demand to have my physical now!"

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you too, Miss..." replied James as he glowered at the woman who had just barged in and demanded her physical.

"Err . . . Reese. Irina," she squirmed, extending her right hand. Her left hand was occupied twirling a tuft of hair and her eyes darted around the sickbay, failing to meet James' eyes. "If I could have that physical now, I would appreciate it."

"Well, you're in luck, my dear lady," replied James happy that he had made her slightly nervous. "I have just finished a couple physicals and have just enough open time to get yours done," he added.

"Good! GREAT!" she bellowed. Irina hopped on to the nearest biobed, took a deep breath, and her eyes finally locked on to James. She lifted her hair up, exposing the skin of her neck, and the subtle line of spots running upward from her shoulders toward her forehead. She pointed to a small pale area where one would administer hypospray. "I need 50cc of psilosynine inhibitors administered stat," she whispered assertively, though favoring discretion. "Another 5 cartridges for the road, and another 60 cartridges of it synthesized for the next month. You'll find I'm a patient woman, Doctor—so I can wait for the bulk of the supply, but I need some of it now!"

"Excuse me?" he asked as he glared at her in bewilderment. "Okay, first and foremost, we'll get your physical completed. After we have completed your physical, we will discuss potential medical needs, and provide whatever medications are REQUIRED. I will say this, though, Ms. Reese," he added as he glanced at her medical record. "Psilosynine inhibitors are actually in the process of being phased out gradually. It has been shown that a continued and prolonged usage of those types of drugs can permanently damage certain areas of the brain, not just those relating to empathic or telepathic capabilities. While the damage is still focused in that area of the mind, it does affect other things tied to that part of the brain. In your case, and mind you, this is just preliminary until I've finished your physical examination, I would recommend the usage of a new and low dosage drug that doesn't do any permanent damages. In this case, I think that Lyratandrozine should work quite well for what you need," he added as he finished speaking and reached for the medical tricorder that was near him.

The briefest pout appeared over Irina's face as she glared at James, before she replaced it with the most disarming of smiles. Whatever was left of the medication she took this morning was wearing thin in her blood. She began to sense in the Doctor a strong moral center. "This is going to be harder than the last one," she thought to herself.

She lifted herself gracefully from the biobed, approached him with the largest of her peridot eyes, and placed her hands upon his forearms. "Look, Doctor . . . ?" she paused, as if looking for a name tag somewhere on his chest, giving up and instead began patting his chest gently. "Doctor. You and I both know Lyratandrozine, while it helps suppress my empathic ability, is still not quite up to snuff with Psilosynine inhibitors, and on top of that it doesn't have any effect on my pheromone production; a side effect of my unique condition. I wouldn't want to take you away from any . . . special lady friend you may have." Irina reached for the hand that wasn't currently occupied with the tricorder, and began to play with it. "I was in Starfleet Medical, too. How about you let me specialize in the mind, and I let you specialize in the body?"

"I'm surprised you didn't know that my name is James, James Stewart," he said coyly. "As for what you're asking, while it may not affect your pheromone production, we will also be using Gandrozine which is a pheromone inhibitor. As for you specializing in the mind, I see here that you are a Counselor and not a Psychiatrist, which means that you do not have the ability to prescribe drugs, and because drugs affect the body, they are my domain unless or until you become a licensed psychiatrist with an MD or PhD after your name. Surely you are also aware that Psilosynine inhibitors are also highly addictive, which is the second reason why long term usage is not recommended. Because this ship needs every crewmember at their best, I cannot continue to permit you to take an addictive substance that may already be affecting your mind in negative ways," he explained thoroughly. "As for keeping me away from a lady friend, you are quite in luck at this moment, my dear. My husband will be returning to sickbay in a few moments," he added as an evil smile began to cross his face. There was absolutely no way he was going to allow this particular patient to demand anything without full medical proof backing her claims and demands. Her previous doctors may have been influenced by her manipulative powers, but he certainly wouldn't be one of them.

The feeling of rejection was not something Irina had ever been used to, on or off the medication. The feeling was sobering, giving her a brief moment of lucidity as punishment for her utter defeat. "GOD. This is so embarrassing," she screamed, though careful not to draw too much attention to herself. She jumped back onto the biobed, focusing the remainder of her energies on suppressing some of her more violent tendencies. "My addiction . . . has never been with the psilosynine inhibitors. It's always been with the emotions I sensed from people—that's what was addictive. The attention and admiration, the doting, the envy, the jealousy! I never trusted anything else to calm that storm as well as the inhibitors do." She stared intently at James. "Could I get that Lyra-stuff-zine from you, now? That smug confidence I'm sensing from you now is pissing me off. . . ."

"That depends upon what your medical examination reveals, however, with your medical history, I don't see any reason why we can't arrange that," he said cautiously as he used his tricorder to take some baseline readings. "It would seem that there is almost no trace of the psilosynine inhibitor in your blood anymore. All the other readings are a mess. I'd better get you on the medication now and try these readings once we get you stable again," he said as he looked at his tricorder and saw that everything was way out of balance for the poor girl. "As for my confidence pissing you off, my dear, may I point out that you were the one who charged in here demanding medications without even having had an examination to verify the need for it? That said, I can't take your examination unless or until I can get you balanced again, so here is a week's prescription of the Lyratandrozine and a week's prescription of the Gandrozine. Come back in in about three days, and we will conduct your physical then, as you should be balanced by that point," he said.

"GAH, I have to come back here? I figured I could bat my 'lashes for a minute, get what I needed, then hide in an unlit, musty jefferies tube for a month." She placed the medication toward her neck, and applied. "Once every 12 hours like the inhibitors?" Irina asked. "And gandrozine, I hope it's not some glorified deodorant like what my first doctor gave me; he thought he was being funny."

"No. These medications are in a dosage that requires only once a day treatment. I would suggest you take them immediately after waking up or immediately before bed. Do not overdose on them, if you take too much, you will find that the side effects of an overdose of either are quite harsh. One of the smaller symptoms of an overdose is vomiting throughout the day in which the overdose occurs. As for Gandrozine, it has never been prescribed to you before. Now, there is something else that we are going to address while we're at this. The Lyratandrozine has been known to lose effect if taken long-term, in this case long-term is defined as more than a year, although in some cases it can take up to five years for it to lose effect, it is designed to temporarily block the effects of your extra-sensory abilities. The key in this is that we will have to gradually reduce the dosages, but the dosages will only step down in extremely incremental amounts. That said, as long as we can train you to effectively and creatively use those abilities in your role as a counselor, as they gradually become stronger, there is no reason that you should need the medication after a year," he explained as he considered the option. "If for some reason you can't be trained to use them, I need to know here and now so that I can work out an annually rotating medical treatment," he added.

Irina began feeling the medication, as if cold water began to fill her from the inside, putting out wildfires burning throughout her body. "Well that's uncharted territory, Doctor Stew," she quipped. "I've been using this stuff going on ten years or so. Before that, I could've been described as: A narcissistic psychopath, who frequently exhibits violent, anti-social behavior. I've also been called a slut—the latter hurts a little more than the former." Irina pointed to the hypospray. "Without this, it's like using an uncalibrated tricorder from the 23rd century with a Klingon bat'leth duct taped to it. It's dangerous, unruly and you can't trust any of the numbers. My empathic metamorphism, not only gives me empathic abilities, but will give me the personality traits of those around me. It was supposed to reach its peak, and end in something known as the finiis'ral when I turned 18. My personality would have been finalized, but that never happened. It may have had something to do with my Human DNA, it seems to lock me in this perpetual puberty. This suppressing medication keeps me, well . . . me; and in all practical terms, makes me asexual. I see the advantage of having empathic abilities, but the idea of training myself . . . well that's a whole lot of hard work that I'm not sure would even work on some thing like me. Please, put me on whatever regimen that will stop it."

"Alright, Ms. Reese," replied James. "If you don't want to be without them, that is fine. I suspect that perhaps the gradual decrease which will be required prior to changing medications may be exactly what you need. I may be mistaken but perhaps as your abilities gradually begin to show up, you will learn to control them. There are a few simple shielding techniques which can be used to block it out entirely except when you wish to use it, but these are disciplines learned over time. If the abilities begin to gradually show up during one of the transitional periods, notify me immediately. Assuming you are game for trying it, we will attempt to train you in using your abilities responsibly. As I'm sure you are aware, some humans naturally develop empathic abilities, among other things. I and my husband were two such individuals. Believe me, I know your frustration, and to be honest, that teenage stage that has been lifelong, at least in my case, was primarily from a lack of control and a lack of a desire to control our abilities. Once I learned to block it out and shield myself, I managed to find my way through the mess. I still periodically use those abilities when I feel that they will be of benefit, however, I have also learned how to read people decently without using them. It took me a decade to learn how to control it, and I had no support system. In your case, you certainly would have a support system, and the training we would implement would be a mix of techniques used by various species. What worked for me as a human may not work for you, thus the broadest possible training in these techniques would allow you to find what works best without having any specific technique imposed upon you. If nothing else, it would give you something to focus on during the transitional periods as the medications change. Being focused on something besides the searing agony of everybody else's emotions might just help keep your mind off of the pain and problems of the transitional period. I won't push the issue, but I did feel that explaining it might help ensure that you are as informed as possible. Take time to consider the options so that you know what you wish to do when the time comes," he said as he tried to relate to her.

James remembered how his empathic abilities had kept him in a teenage cycle of constant rebellion and trying to go against the grain. It had gotten him into more trouble than it was worth, and when the final bombardment had come when he was in a huge crowd of people with friends, colleagues, and fellow Starfleet Officers present, he had had to learn how to reign his abilities in. Henry had been going through the same stage at around the same time, and fortunately they had encountered each other during this phase. They had, in essence, been each others support system. This may have been why they fell in love, however, it may very easily have just been what was destined to happen, with or without that common bond.

"Oh wonderful, another empath," Irina thought to herself. "Someone else who can claim they know what I'm going through."

Irina took the deepest of breaths, looking toward James. "Well, consider me 'informed,' but I think you'll come to find that some of my more permanent characteristics is my stubbornness, on or off the medication. I'll cross that bridge when the time comes, sink or swim, just be prepared to flood the deck I'm on with anesthezine. Could I at least rely on my 'deodorant' not wearing off as easily?"

"Well, Ms. Reese, actually, the medication that blocks your pheromones won't need to be replaced or changed unless your pheromone levels increase beyond what it can block," said James. "I'm not saying that I know what you're going through, merely that I've been in and observed situations that bear some similarities," he added. "My job is simply to inform you of your options and let you decide. As for your being stubborn, that is always an excellent trait when utilized properly. If it starts to turn into being stubborn enough to refuse to admit when you are wrong, I may have to prescribe seeing a Counselor," he said as he chuckled at the hint of a joke he had made. "In this case, there is no right or wrong, simply options to solve the problem," he added just in case she hadn't caught the joke.

"HA! I see what you did there!" Irina exclaimed, crossing her arms. "Your advice is 'noted,' doctor; but I think you'll find I make the worst of patients. Are we finished yet here?"

"Oh, certainly Ms. Reese. Once I gave you my advice and got you on your new medical regime, we were finished. I certainly, expect to see you here again in three days. Have a good day," he added as he gestured for her to head towards the door.

"I will, and I will have three good days. See you then, Doctor Stew," she replied feigning contempt. She hopped off the biobed and straightening her shirt, her palms were dry and her mouth was moist. Irina blushed momentarily as she approached the exit, remembering what she had done several minutes ago. She placed her left hand over her face as if to cover her embarrassment, looking back and waving goodbye to the doctor with her right.

James watched the young lady leave the room. He couldn't help but smirk. He knew she was going to be back, and this time, he was going to be more than a little prepared for her. As he contemplated what to do, Henry walked in, collected the blood sample, and returned to the lab to run the necessary tests.

A JP with Lt. jg. Irina Reese and Lt. jg./Dr. James Stewart IV.