A Day in the Life

[Mreh K'hal 0]

Mreh quickly and efficiently patched up the injured man down in sickbay, the dermal regenerator humming softly. The crewman, a member of the damage control squad, said it was due to a wayward panel that slipped during routine maintenance. The wound was obviously not from a panel but from a blade, however the Caitian new better than to contradict anyone about it. His job was to fix the problem. Someone else could deal with young, cocky engineers and their knife play, especially since it wasn't the first time this particular one had come in feigning on duty injuries.

 

"There you are," Mreh said. "All finished." The crewman left without so much as even a grunt. Nonplussed by the lack of gratitude, as silence was an improvement over open insults, arrogance and mockery, Mreh tidied up the biobed and returned his instruments to a small side table. Sickbay was quiet at this late hour, all of the other doctors off duty. Another fact of life that the spotted felinoid didn't mind. Most of his colleagues didn't want him here, and barely bothered to hide it. He was only thankful that the CMO, Dr. Reynolds, was at least tolerant of his Caitian heritage and mildly appreciative of the furry physician's skills. Without that he would be in sorry shape here indeed.

 

With no patients at hand, Mreh settled himself at the small workstation nestled in the corner of sickbay. Pulling a PADD out of the work basket he called up the medical file for the person's chart and uploaded the new information. None of the other doctors ever did it, all of them leaving it for him to do in the wee hours of the night. He didn't mind the extra work, because it kept him busy through his whole shift, along with the cleaning and the occasional patient.

 

When Mreh had sworn the Oath of Fealty to the Empire and sold himself as an indentured servant to Starfleet, he never expected to be treated well. The advantage, the Caitian knew, was that as Starfleet property no one would dare move beyond insults and rudeness, not willing to pay the punishment and the cost for either killing him or putting him out of action. Wearing the armband of an IS, the Starfleet seal embroidered into it, was as close as he could get to safety in the Empire. While perhaps not the most pleasant life he could have led, the opportunity to practice medicine openly and with the best equipment beat, hands down, the nomadic life and second-hand equipment he would have had he returned to his family on the Fr'Ankhish.

 

Steadily moving through the pile of PADDs, Mreh's bushy tail swung lazily back and forth behind him when the doors to sickbay swished opened and the Assistant Chief Security Officer, Lieutenant Matt Morris, walked in. The lean, grizzled Terran sauntered in and leaned a hip against the wall near Mreh's workstation.

 

"Awfully furry for a secretary, aren't you?" Morris asked, smirking.

 

"I imagine I am, sir," Mreh replied warmly, the security officer one of the few aboard who not only treated the Caitian well, but kindly.

 

"Grueman come in with an injury?"

 

"He did," Mreh responded, turning to Morris in his swivel chair.

 

"What was it this time? A sharp point in the jefferies tubes, a dropped laser scalpel?" Morris asked, still smirking.

 

"A panel with an alarmingly sharp edge to cause such a gash when it 'slipped,'" Mreh answered.

 

"Dumb idiot," Morris commented with a weary head shake. "He keeps this up, one of these days a 'panel' is going straight into his heart. Copy the injury report to my office, would you Mreh?"

 

"Of course. Are you going to be able to do anything about him?"

 

"Well, this is the third time he's come in saying an injury was duty related when it's not, so I can bust him for that. Unless I can prove who he was sparring with, I can't get him for the knife fighting itself." With a shrug, Morris chuckled grimly. "Without that all I can do is slap him with the fine and then hope that the Chief Engineer pulls his head out of the warp core long enough to instill the proper punishment."

 

"Huh," Mreh grunted, turning back to the console to copy the file to Morris' office.

 

"Yeah, that's about what I say." Morris looked at the pile still left in the basket. "Looks like they dumped half the crew files on you today. I'll let you get back to it, I have paperwork of my own to do now. Don't get too snowed under, Fluffy."

 

"Will do," chuckled Mreh as Morris turned on his heel and exited the way he came. One warm-hearted visit was enough to turn the Caitian's day bright, and he settled back into the paperwork with a fanged grin on his face, his tail bouncing around playfully behind him.