Cmdr JFarrington

Chief Medical Officer's Log Stardate 5002102.7 Cmdr Jami Farrington, MD USS Manticore NCC 5852 Jami had learned a long time ago that certain patients -- especially frequent-flyers -- gave specific nonverbal signals when they were ready for discharge. Margaux Roget was one of those people. If Margaux was strong enough to get out of the biobed and determined enough to pull on her uniform, chances were that Margaux was okay. Margaux knew the limits of her physiology, and -- despite her blasé attitude -- took her physical condition very seriously. So, when Margaux slid off the biobed that evening and grabbed for her uniform, Jami was pretty sure she would need only a last cup of coffee and she'd be ready to go. She considered bypassing the usual physician's spiel, which Margaux surely knew by heart. If it weren't for Margaux and Eden, medical would be pretty boring. However, given Jami's need to practice, Margaux's frequent-flyer status, and the fact that Margaux's last injuries had been a little more than any physician liked to see, Jami ran through it again. As far as duty was concerned: pointing fingers only. As far as recreation was concerned: if it hurts, don't do it. A last cup of coffee with chicory, and Margaux was off, leaving Jami and the new physician, Kyle Mele, to check the other patients and file reports. It had been a harrowing few days, and Jami was pretty glad to be back to at least a semblance of routine. On her way to the office, she passed Kyle, still trying to adjust his tastebuds to Cajun coffee. His skill as a neurology specialist had been tested his first 24 hours aboard Manticore, and he had come out on top. Now all he had to do was get used to the coffee. Speaking of which, Jami wasn't sure she should tell the crew about Jaffe's sick bay perks. If everyone knew that there was a personal store of each crewman's favorite culinary delights, accessible only when that crewman is admitted to sick bay, Jami and Kyle might never see the light of day!

Medical Log, Stardate 02101.2 Cmdr Jami Farrington, MD USS Manticore, NCC 5852 A bleep of recognition welcomed Dr. Farrington as she entered her office, yet another bonus from former Consul General Jaffe. Physicians' offices and everything they contained were completely secure, whether or not the door was locked. As they entered, the computer scanned their biosigns, matched them with records, cross-checked them with SFHQ data, then either admitted the physician or, in the case of an unauthorized intruder, set off a security alarm. All this was done in the space of a nanosecond. The only possible problem Jami could foresee was their becoming complacent and forgetting that not all starships had such security systems installed. As she sat at her console to write her report, the thought occurred to her that Margaux Roget, now resting in sick bay, owed her very life to former Consul General Jaffe. To add a note of irony, though Consul General Melville was directly responsible for Margaux's brush with death, he had inadvertantly saved her life. Without his shenanigans, Consul General Jaffe may not have given Manticore the cutting-edge equipment it now had. What exactly had saved Margaux's life, besides her battle-hardened tenacity and her thick-skinned determination to outwit everyone and everything, including death? For one, the extraction equipment in the shuttle bay. Newly installed, the equipment locked on to Margaux's biological image, scanned the wreckage to determine the most effective means of extraction, matched that against the probabilities of her survival, then proceeded in the most efficient manner without further endangering her in any way. Quite a nice little toy, that was. Another thing: new emergency medical equipment, able to stabilize anything but a dead body -- maybe even resuscitate one, given the right circumstances. Attached directly to the ship's computer it was instantly programmed to Margaux's exact medical profile. It knew her body inside and out, down to the last hangnail. And the stretcher, connected directly to the ship's transporter system, able to transport site to site at the press of a button, and take the designated medical officer(s) with it. Then there was Dr. Mele, who just *happened* to show up along with the equipment. Jami paused at that thought. Was it a coincidence, or was he a special operative? After due consideration, she realized it didn't make much difference, so long as he was a good medical officer, and so far he had proven to be a darn good one. Dr. Farrington finished her report and began to log out, then realized she didn't have to do that anymore. She smiled. Yes, she could get used to this. She could get used to it really easily!