Morning Coffee

[Guest Natalie Harris]

Natalie peered into the depths of her rich brown coffee, giving it a swirl with her spoon before finally deeming it cool enough for human consumption. Ahh. Paradise in a cup.

 

She smiled as she set the cup back onto the mess-hall table, reveling in the few hours of peace and quiet she had before she went back on shift at oh-six-hundred. The last few days had been taxing (more than, if she was being entirely honest with herself) and she didn't remember having been in Sickbay or on an accompanying trip outside this much since she was a resident.

 

Still, she couldn't complain too much. There wasn't anything on Medical's end that had really gone "wrong", so to speak, and their most recent patient was recovering nicely from his cardiac surgery. Praan was released part-time to VIP quarters, so Sickbay now lacked the acerbic "wit" (if it could be called that) of the Vulcan. The green-bloods made for stubborn patients, but at least they didn't argue necessary minutiae like so many "emotional" species did. Never could Natalie recall treating a Vulcan patient and hearing whining about treatment (most specifically needles, or hypos, or whatever the unpleasantness of the day called for). Scientifically-backed "suggestions" on alternative prognoses, however... well, that was a different story.

 

Naturally, though, having Praan out of commission at all, even though he was recovering nicely, was going to be difficult. The little cold war that was starting to bubble over outside wouldn't be easy to handle even with the help of a pragmatic ambassador, and without it, it was damned frightening. Natalie almost wished they hadn't left the Trill on Qo'NoS...

 

Oh well. What couldn't be helped couldn't be helped, and not for the first time, it made Natalie rather happy that she wasn't in Seiben or Ba'alyo's shoes. But still, there was always a certain amount of... requisite curiosity and inherent feelings of responsibility that went along with doctoring -- one always hoped that measures would be taken that would avoid the presence of patients in one's Sickbay, and one also usually trusted that general common sense would be a prevailing force in the universe.

 

It usually wasn't.

 

Avarice-driven Mister Cyrano Jones seemed to be a living example of it, actually. Natalie gave her coffee another stir with the spoon, rolling her eyes. Playing map-trader to the Elasians and Troyians had to be one of the worst trading moves Natalie had seen. But still, even though he had dropped the proverbial ounce of Elasian matter into the Troyian anti-matter chamber, it was hard to stay angry with him. His manner was jovial and his trading seemed mostly harmless: the usual knockoff gemstones and only-a-little-bit-rare silks and fabrics, though there was also a noticeable dearth of exotic animals. Interesting about that.

 

Natalie finished the rest of the coffee, heading off for a change of uniform and a quick shower before heading on shift. With lots of luck, they wouldn't be caught in the firing lines of an interstellar war by the end of the day. She would be pretty satisfied with that.

Edited June 28, 2009 by Natalie Harris