Incident Reporting

[Rue Wydown 0]

“So, what should I put on the maintenance report about what caused the damage?”

 

“Hormones.”

 

“Hormones? Seriously? C’mon Doc. I need more than that.” Standing in the doorway of the exam room, Crewman Dalton of the custodial staff flashed the PADD in the Chief Medical Officers direction. Behind him, his partner worked to diligently repair the table mangled in Rue’s last encounter with one of her medical staff.

 

Rue slurped her banana smoothie loudly through a straw, seeming to consider her response thoughtfully (or trying to annoy Crewman Dalton, take your pick.) After an awkward moment, she pointed at the line on the PADD that read ‘cause’ and responded, “How ‘bout female hormones then.”

 

Dalton scowled. “I can’t put female hormones on this report, ma’am.”

 

Rue glanced up. Flashed an innocent doe eyes expression and let her subtly accent slip in. “Why no’?”

 

“Because you and I know the chief will have my head.”

 

“Oh rubbish,” Rue took the PADD from the crewman and entered the data in herself. “Remind me to surgically remove that stick you have back there next time. Just let ‘im know that I’ll have the incident report out before the game. He knows I’m good for it.” She handed the PADD back and started to cross sickbay back towards her office.

 

“You’re playing tonight?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Seriously?’

 

“Whot? I cannae have a little fun? I can play a game or two. And drink. I’m no’ a nun, you know.” The woman looked over her shoulder at Dalton. “Welllllll…I could have been. I could handle the chastity part, but the poverty part…” Sucked air noisily through her grinning clenched teeth. “ Couldn’t manage that.” Paused again, “Welllll…I could have. But Mother Superior felt my talents were better applied elsewhere anyway. Although I still think we could have made a killing for the orphanage with the holy water shampoo formula I discovered. Oi, better get going, lad….” Rue glanced over the now completely aghast man and motioned to his partner now leaving the exam room. “Looks like your mate’s ready to go.” She physically turned him around to face the other direction, gave him a pat on the back, then turned one her heals and headed back to her desk. “Be a good boy and run along now.”

 

He left without pressing her for any further details. Exactly as planned by the CMO.

 

Shook her head, smirking. “That was a right laugh.” Wydown flopped back down into her chair, and dragged her hands through her hair, making the short ends stand up in spikes. Stared at the incident report she was trying to word smith. The Doctor was having trouble writing the truth yet keeping B’Etor out of trouble for property destruction. Her exercise in avoidance would only buy her so much time, then it would be time to pay the piper. “Whot am I supposed ta say? *You* try dealin’ wif a pregnant half-Klingon-whatever and let me know how that works for ya.” Sighing, she threw her stylus at the blinking curser on the screen.

 

“Oh mercy, what am I going to do. I’m really beginning to wonder if I haven’t made a big mistake. Everything seems to be falling apart here. Two anxious parents, a green baby, one pregnant officer, an officer with an anxiety disorder, and an engineer who become a lightening rod on two occasions. In a weak moment I gave away my Pirate Booty recipe to the Orion. Oh and a partridge in a pear tree.” She glanced over to the picture at the corner of her desk. “Perhaps I should have listened to you. Stayed back at StarFleet Medical. Taught wanna-bee’s. Enjoyed the good life. Sipped banana smoothies under a tropical sun. Instead of resorting to blabbing to *you*.”

 

Angry slurping of the dredges of her drink followed. And a sigh. Wydown leaned back in her chair, stared out into the main medical bay and watched the traffic going past her door. While everything seemed to be returning to normal, the experienced doctor knew that looks could be deceiving. The next disaster was just around the corner. Or adventure. Her eyes drifted back to the console screen where her screensaver was now cycling through pictures of her past adventures. Slowly her lips curled into an impish grin. Her nose twitched.

 

Adventure. Danger. Risk. Chaos Theory. It continued to appeal to her, even through the battles and pain. She believed on facing problems head on. Accepting responsibility for ones actions and taking steps to correct the problems you cause. Letting others learning the hard way about personal limitation or the great cause and effect of one’s decisions. Testing her own limitations. And gleefully accepting the twisting rollercoaster of a journey that is life.

 

She picked up the photo she’d been talking to. “Ignore that load of tosh. I’m just having a mid-shift crisis. I’ll get it all sorted.” Tossing the photo down haphazardly. It skidded across the desk, resting precariously on the corner. Rue picked up her stylus again and started writing. “Besides, you’re not going to get the last laugh this time. Jokes on you, mate. In the most recent past, I’ve sailed the clouds of Satarimi. Helped with a turbolift repair…sorta,” she grinned at the memory of being upside down. “Won a bet with Finola so I don’t have to do house chores for the rest of the month.” She typed steadily. “I can handle one tinsy tiny incident report and keep my cool at the same time. I could probably come up with a way to have universal peace if I really set my mind to it. Wellll….maybe not universal peace per say. I mean, I’m only one person and the universe is a big place. But maybe perfect my banana smoothie recipe. And *that* could bring about universal peace.” She smiled to herself as she continued to type, her sense of humor restored and therefore increasing her chances of keeping her staff out of trouble. Wellllll…maybe not out of trouble, but at least out of the brig for the time being.

[B'Etor Patterson 0]

Uh oh...