All The Light We Cannot See (Part I)
Posted on Wed Aug 25th, 2021 @ 2:32pm by Lieutenant Jai
1,864 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission:
What Lies Ahead, Between, and Behind
Location: Earth
Timeline: 2389
Tags: jai
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E A R T H
8 Years Earlier...
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The young face stopped to look up at his own reflection.
The child was dressed in the familiar uniform of Starfleet, anxiously fiddling with the high collar. A single, solitary gold pip on the right side of the collar seemed determined to stab him in the side of his neck no matter how he tried to adjust it. Tugging on the hem of the blue coat, the boy drew in a deep breath as he tried to prepare himself to walk out there.
He wasn't ready.
But, if he waited until he was, he'd never go out there.
Placing his hands against his stomach, the boy felt a wave of nausea creep in through the nerves. His left leg was shaking. Gulping down another breath, the boy closed his eyes and tried to force his body to relax.
He was worried he might throw up again, wondering if he shouldn't stay awhile longer in case he needed to present another offering on the altar of a porcelain god.
Instead, he turned and stepped out the door.
As he emerged from out of the small restroom, he was flanked on either side by escorts. A human of Samoan ancestry, who towered over the Miran like the Goliath of ancient tales. The other was an Andorian, who held an ushaan knife and a sharpening block. Casually running the blade against the grain of the stone, the sound resonating with each scraping stroke.
The boy's spirit was somewhere back in the toilet and his legs were threatening to give out on him. Clenching and relaxing his hands, the boy traveled through a column of uniformed members, each dressed in the teal color of medical, until he arrived at a table with a single, seated, individual.
The Betazoid was an older male, with hair as jet black as his eyes, peppered with steel and gray. A pair of spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. Reaching up a hand, the man removed the glasses and set them aside as he raised his head up at the boy's approach.
Stopping a foot away from the table's edge, the small alien snapped to military attention. Shoulders square. Chest out. Head high, as he announced, "Ensign Jai, reporting as ordered, sir!"
The Betazoid gave no acknowledgment, instead retrieving his reading glasses as he pulled a padd from off the top of the makeshift desktop. Perusing the contents for a moment, the man seemed to fiddle with the device for a moment. Then, almost as an afterthought, remarked, "Very well, let the record reflect the time and stardate."
Silence fell over the proceedings, as the man seemed to browse the contents of the padd before him. Reading from the screen, the Betazoid began, "Jai, alias Jay Prakas Gyatso, alias Goya Lumpa..."
"That's Gyalwa Lamapa, si..." the boy began, his voice fleeing from his control as the Betazoid just looked up as he was interrupted. The look on the man's face was enough to make the boy re-consider correcting him. "Goya Lumpa will be fine, sir," the youth amended hastily.
The man held the stone-cold gaze for several moments longer, before he continued again. "...this board has been convened in order to inquire into the matter of your student record before this august academy."
With the preliminaries out of the way, the man slid the spectacles further down his nose so that he could peer over the top of the glasses and look back at the boy. "Let the record reflect that Mister Jai did knowingly pursue a degree in organic chemistry and pharmacology from the Starfleet Academy. Do you deny this?"
"No, sir."
"And you attended Starfleet Medical?"
"I did, sir."
The man pushed the glasses back up, peering back down at the padd for a moment. "And for the last twelve months, you have been assigned as a medical student intern," the man read aloud, before looking back up at the boy. "Is that also correct?"
"Yes, sir."
Again, the man read from the padd. "And you did petition the Starfleet Board of Examiners for licensing as an expert in the field of space medicine and surgery. Is that correct, ensign?"
"Yes, sir."
The glasses came off, twirled around with one arm trapped between the thumb and forefinger as the Betazoid seemed to consider the young man before him for a moment. The icy stillness in the room became uncomfortable, as the boy began to wither under the man's scowling gaze. "Do you believe you're an expert, ensign?" the man asked flatly.
How was he supposed to answer that? Should he talk about his degrees? Should he meekly accept the yoke of lifetime learning? Uncertain of how else to respond, the boy quickly stammered, "Uh... no." Fumbling with his tongue for a moment, the boy again snapped back to attention as he repeated, "No, sir!"
"SO WHY DID YOU APPLY TO THE BOARD THEN!?"
The ensign's tongue dried up like the Sahara. His jaw fell open, the muscles constricting and relaxing as he attempted to speak and found himself void of both speech or thought.
"Are you wasting the board's time, Ensign?"
"N-No, sir!"
"EXPLAIN YOURSELF. ENSIGN!"
Drawing in a breath, the Miran rocked forward as he pushed it out in a forceful, "I want to be a doctor, sir!"
The Betazoid just stared back at the boy, who snapped himself back to attention as silence again permeated the stifling atmosphere of the room. "I believe this board has heard all that it needs to," the elder man stated finally, reaching over to lift a gavel up and rap it against the top of the table. "Starfleet! Attention!"
The sound of chairs scraping against the floor filled the room, as a sea of teal shirts and black uniforms suddenly towered heads above the small alien.
Pushing his spectacles back up his nose, the man set aside the gavel and picked up the padd, as he read aloud, "After careful consideration of the sparse evidence, the record of poor academic performance, and the concerning recommendations of your peers, this board has little choice... but to graduate you."
The blood drained from out of the boy's face, as a sea of hands suddenly reached out, slapping him on the back, grabbing him by the shoulder, shaking his hand, or rubbing the top of his shaved head. As they did, the lights came back up and the music was alive once more.
===================
STARSKY'S ON THE PIER
San Francisco, North American Continent
===================
As the crowd of doctors, nurses, and health professionals mulled around the reserved room at the back of the California public house, the sound of the gavel again rapt against the top of a dining table. "Silence!" the Betazoid man demanded, "This court will come to order so that the sentence may be read into the record."
As people quieted down, the Betazoid rose up and began, "The Starfleet Board of Medical Examiners..."
"Bunch of hacks!"
"...being of one accord in the evaluation of Ensign Jai's competence..."
"Must be a low standard."
"Was that a short joke?"
"...and professional due diligence, do hereby confer upon him the title of medical doctor and further certify that he is, henceforth, duly licensed to the practice of space surgery and medicine..."
A loud whistle cut through the air, as cheering resumed, which forced the Betazoid to try and talk over the noise.
"...in accordance with the regulations of Starfleet Medical, and given by the authority of the Surgeon General of the United Federation of Planets."
With that, the Betazed man again pulled the glasses from his face as he lowered the padd and glared down over the trembling child. "I am concerned at what I see," the Betazoid man uttered flatly, pausing as he allowed the scowl to travel from face to face around the room until his attention returned to the small figure that was still standing at attention before him. "There is one more serious piece of business which demands immediate correction..."
The boy gulped down another breath, his face going through a series of visible emotions as he again withered beneath the imposing glare of the grandpa from hell before him.
"Mister Jai, did I or did I not just certify you as a doctor?"
"Y-Yes, sir?" the boy answered meekly.
"THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL AN ENSIGN!?"
The force of the man's bellow took the boy back a step. The Andorian surgeon that had been beside him the whole time catching the youth. Possibly to keep him from falling on his ass. And possibly to make certain that the boy wasn't about to run.
At the same time, the meaty fingers of the Samoan chief hospital corpsman were poking the boy in the neck, as he felt a second pip placed alongside the one already on his collar.
The Betazoid again signaled for silence, as he read aloud, "Under section five-oh-nine-seven of the Starfleet Military Personnel Manual, I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade, with all the rights and privileges there to."
A ruckus broke out in the bar. Raising up a hand, the man called for a silence to the jackassery, as he announced, "...further, I hereby re-assign you as the attending medical officer, Starfleet Medical Branch Clinic, McKinley Station, effective as of this stardate."
"Starfleet, charge your glasses!"
A stemmed glass, filled with teal-colored water, was pushed into Jai's hands as someone in the crowd gave a scripted call to celebrate. "I would like to propose a toast to the President of the United Federation of Planets!"
The glasses went up, as the group announced in one voice:
"TO THE PRESIDENT!"
A different voice in the crowd. "I would like to propose a toast to the Starfleet Marine Corps!"
"TO THE MARINES!"
"I would like to propose a toast to the Starfleet!"
"TO STARFLEET!"
"I would like to propose a toast to Starfleet Medical, and to all who lie sick or wounded in its care."
"TO DOCTORS AND NURSES, EVERYWHERE!"
The Betazoid raised his glass, holding it aloft until the room had quieted again. Then, he said, "I would like to propose a toast to Lieutenant Jai..."
In unison, the remaining water in the toasting glasses was raining down on the poor Miran. The naval tradition of the 'wetting down'. Flinching, he could only brace as he was assaulted from all sides by splashes.
A slow smile crept across the face of the old surgeon, as the Betazoid began, "This concludes the formal events. Now let's celebra..."
The chirp of a communicator is usually a muted, non-intrusive sound.
When everyone's badge warbled at once, it was like hearing the chirp in stereo surround high definition. As everyone in the room froze, an echo of voices announced:
[ "This is a Starfleet Command priority signal. Code White. Code White. Medical emergency. Medical teams report for immediate dispatch." ]
to be continued...
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