A Not Quite Routine Exam
Posted on Sun Apr 25th, 2021 @ 5:40pm by Lieutenant Gunnar Arnason & Lieutenant Serra V'lon & Raikael t'Leiya
2,187 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Frizzle
Location: Haumea, Hospital
It would be an understatement to say the youngest of the 'Romulettes' had not been happy about not being allowed to join her older sisters for the field trip to the newly discovered cave. Having been a youngest child (and still being very much a soft touch where her beleaguered parents were concerned), Gunnar had tried to help out by offering her her own personal field trip to the hospital. Tal and Ali had been grateful; Raikael's acceptance had been rather more grudging - at least until they got to the hospital and she was inundated with staff remarking on how adorable she was and offering lollipops and other treats. Now he was managing bouncy sugar-fueled 10 year old Romulan, while also trying to involve her enough to keep her interest and possibly actually do his work. "So, do you want to see how to set up a scan on a biobed?"
"Sure." Raikael was in a fair number of ways the most "human seeming" of the three sisters; hot pink glitter flashing on her fingernails as she moved her hand towards the item in question; with various other 'bling' on her outfit and accessories, possibly enough to make Divash proud. "I dunno why it's taking so long for my horses to get here. Aunt Caithlin made Arenn and Telek go with her to look for office space." Raikael's face twisted into almost exactly the sort of 'death by boredom' disgust at the thought of what her cousins were doing that any human preteen might have, complete with the eyeroll. "But we could be riding then, looks like there's lots of places around here that'd be good."
"There are," Gunnar assured her. And once the horses get here, I'll be glad to show you." And hopefully that will be before the next field... he thought, though as much because he'd enjoy the excuse to take a day off to go riding. "But as to the biobed, you see the interface here? It can be set for standard exam or varying levels of more detailed scans, and this section selects species so the results show against that baseline."
The doors slid open part-way through the explanation, revealing a slender, blonde woman with piercing grey eyes that rapidly traced the room. Identifying the teal trimmings of a uniform, she approached the officer in question.
"Lieutenant Serra V'Lon. Reporting for compulsory medical evaluation following transfer," she explained curtly.
"Welcome, Lieutenant, and please come in," Gunnar said, tamping his norm smile down a notch in deference to usual Vulcan preferences. "I'm Lieutenant Arnason, the acting CMO. This," he nodded to Raikael, "is Ms. t'Leiya. She's ...assisting me today."
Serra eyed the girl, noting the green-tinted complexion and ears immediately. The name, however, was more Romulan than Vulcan in origin. She made a mental note to look up the meaning later. "It would seem unlikely that even a Romulan child would have adequate medical training or experience to serve in an official capacity." She paused when she saw the girl's expression. "However, you may...observe." She locked eyes with Arnason a moment later.
"I wanted to go on the cave trip; but humans think I'm too young." The annoyance on Raikel's face and in her voice was a show of her age--or lack thereof--all on it's own; but in her defense it was quite honestly a fairly confusing proposition to a young mind to parse, that she had been considered 'old enough' among her own kind to face the risks of the survival rites Romulans still held a version of from their Vulcan ancestors at age 7; and yet still not old enough by human standards to go on a barely-risky field trip with supervision at age 10.
"The rule is to make the patient comfortable," Gunnar said, taking a conciliatory approach (toward both of them). "But you should know I'd never compromise care. While she may not qualify officially, Raikael is around the age I was when I started assisting my father." He left off the nature of the patients, but the point stood - helping with an downed horse was if anything more difficult that setting preprogrammed options to run a simple diagnostic. Nevertheless, he did perform the set up himself. "Before we begin, are there any issues I should be aware of?"
Serra shook her head dismissively. "Nothing of concern. My medical records are up-to-date and accurate to my knowledge. The file should have been provided with my transfer." She side-eyed the Romulan girl, waiting to see what she was going to do.
Raikael, for her part, eyed the readouts on the biobed, then Serra, and youthful curiosity won out over any propriety her parents might have attempted to teach her. "When did you get here? We've only been here a couple of weeks."
"She and her family are old friends," Gunnar said by way of explaining why a newly arrived child was with him in the hospital.
"My transfer was completed 47.6 hours ago," Serra replied, directing the statement to the child. "I find it agreeable that there are many different cultures here on the colony. I am fascinated by the way varying traditions and social protocols are intermixed in this environment."
That got a smile from Gunnar, though he tried to minimize it to not subject her to too much 'emotional display'. "I do too. It's one of reasons I joined Starfleet, and one of things that makes me consider a transfer to stay on here after they find a permanent CMO." He paused in pulling up the scan results to cast a smile and small wink at Raikael. "That and the friends who've decided to settle here."
"We seriously need to stop moving." Raikael agreed in a mulish tone; the youngest of the sisters had lived only a few years in Boston on Earth before her parents followed the eldest of their four children to an assignment; had been shuffled around as her eldest sister's postings had; and then finally, had found herself back at the house in Boston when her aunt had arrived with her cousins from the fall of the Empire. Only to now find herself on the colony. "Though at least Earth had stuff like gymnastics team and pizza places. Not sure there's any of that here." Her face then lit up in the thrilled way of a child recalling a favorite memory suddenly. "And on Earth, dad threatened to kill a guy once 'cause he took the lawn chair out of the parking spot mom shoveled the snow out of and put his car there instead. He moved his car really fast." Her face fell again a bit. "But I don't think any of the adults liked Earth as much as I did."
"Indeed?" Serra raised an eyebrow. "I have found that Earth is, as the humans say, 'an acquired taste'. Although quite an illogical people, they are also capable of remarkable insight, and their capacity for optimism can be refreshing." She leaned closer to the Romulan girl. "Although they are also quite prone to hubris, so we must not tell them all of that."
"They say the same thing about us, actually." Raikael's voice dropped a bit; not so much to avoid being heard as to the levels typical in close conversation between two people with vulcanoid hearing. "About the hubris. Though--" she flicked her eyes to Gunnar for a moment, one corner of her mouth turning up in amusement, and possibly blithely now letting Arnason in on the fact that she had overheard various conversations he'd had over the years with the adults that adults had meant for only themselves; "--I don't think 'hubris' was quite the word he used."
Gunnar had managed to swallow a laugh at a Vulcan telling a Romulan that humans were prone to hubris, but at Raikael's reply he couldn't quite contain it. "No," he laughed. "But I'm sure all the words you heard were synonyms. Though I believe your oldest sister did apply them to humans a couple times, at least in calling me 'unbearably smug' when it came to cold weather."
"Your grandparents are, too. When I went there for riding lessons they didn't even wear coats in the cold, sometimes."
"Cold is relative." Gunnar shrugged, though a smile crept onto his face at that mention of home. "But my grandfather does consider it a point of pride not to wear a jacket unless there's at least a few centimeters of snow on the ground."
"Yeah, one of your cousins laughed at us for all the winter gear we were wearing." Raikael paused, perhaps savoring another memory. "Then I hit him in the head with a snowball."
"Was this act an appropriate response to their amusement at your correct preparation for inclement weather?" Serra asked, momentarily perplexed at the suggestion that such a scenario might escalate in that way.
"Probably not." Raikael shrugged, and any hopes Serra might have had that what she regretted was the nature of the action itself were dashed with the follow up: "His cousins outnumbered us by a lot and so we kinda ended up eating snow. And Dad would give me another lecture about "assessing a situation" and "picking the ideal time to strike"." Raikael's eyes rolled in a near-perfect imitation of a classic Earth tween, an interesting look below the upswept eyebrows.
"Not bad lessons..." Gunnar remarked containing his own eyeroll. The cousins in question were actually his cousins' kids who were of an age to see a snowball fight as just good fun, but not actually young enough to have not known better when it came making fun of off world visitors, though it was entirely possible the taunting had been in response to a certain Romulan attitude of superiority. Not that that would save them from spending the next couple weeks mucking out horse stalls if he knew his grandparents. "In any case, I apologize for their poor manners. Hospitality is an important value, as I'm sure someone made very plain to them later."
"Is the snow here good for snowballs ever? Or is it all just the powdery kind?" If it perhaps seemed strange to have questions seemingly open to snowfall--or even more bizarrely, knowledgeable of the details--coming out of a vulcanoid mouth; Raikael was clearly showing her hand as having been born and raised in a climate where it happened yearly; and seemed only too eager to properly enjoy it, given she was undoubtedly trained in use of the proper winter gear to overcome her...biological disadvantages...with regard to cold weather.
"I'm not sure I should answer that," Gunnar said, lifting an amused brow at her. He'd have to have a word with Tal before next winter or the next snowball fight on the colony might get even more out of hand than the last one. "Particularly since the kids visiting from the Vesta nearly turned me into a snowman last time around."
He looked at Serra, not wanting to alarm the Vulcan by the prospect of roving bands of snowball throwing children. "My own fault for throwing one back instead of walking on when I got hit - made me part of game. For the most part, people here are fairly polite. That was just a bit of high spirits after the temperatures got up to where kids could safely go outside and play."
"Explanations are not required. I am familiar with the recreational habits of most species' children." That said, Serra did note that a Romulan child's approach to game theory was likely markedly different to a Human or Vulcan one. "Rest assured, I should find it most unlikely that any attempt to strike me with a projectile made of snow would succeed." She looked at Raikael again, knowing that it would present an enjoyable challenge to the girl.
Raikael's response to the statement was just a small eyebrow raising slightly, as if to doubt the veracity of the statement...Or perhaps, determined to prove it false.
This was going to be an interesting winter, Gunnar thought, recognizing that look. But that was months away. "For now it is very nice outside so I won't detain you further. Your readings are all within acceptable parameters," he said, using the preferred Vulcan phrase as he signed off on her chart. "So unless you have any questions for me, you're free to go."
"No further questions." Serra replied. After a pause she looked at the young Romulan. "Peace and long life, little one." She lifted her hand in a formal Vulcan salute, trusting that her forebears had perhaps taught her some of the ways of their distant cousins.
Raikael's first thought was that a life full of the sort of peace Serra was likely referring to would be dreadfully dull, but politely returned the gesture with her much smaller hand...though the phrasing of what she said next was definitely not the standard Vulcan reply. "Live long and prosper in your passions and your duties."
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