Fitting a square peg ...

[Shalin 0]

Ensign Shalin made his way to the medical bay. It should've been easy enough: Deck 7, central core. That was the way it was on most Saucer-based starships. Yet Shan passed Engineering three times before finally locating Medical. Stepping inside, he waved to the first person he met. "Hi – Ensign Shan Shalin, reporting for introductory medical."

 

Leutenant T'Aral turned about to face the Ensign, taking in his presence. A new Academy graduate no doubt; he had the fresh enthusiasm of a graduate. It would only be a matter of time before he lost the wide-eyed luster, which unfortunately always happened too quickly. "This way, Ensign." Gesturing to a side stall, she picked up a medical tricorder. "Lie back on the bio-bed, and we can start your examination."

 

The Ensign's vitals were strong, and he was largely healthy save for a somewhat large bruise along his right side. Indications were that it was healing properly and had been doing so for some time, but that could only logically mean that the injury was initially far more severe. "Ensign – where did this injury come from?"

 

Shan blushed crimson. "It was a mistake, Ma'am. I was on shore leave, and I let someone lead me to the wrong side of town." It was true enough: he was on shore leave on Rigel, and the young lady he was with did lead him to 'the wrong side of town' … the side claimed by several squads of Marines who were also on shore leave. A little too much drink, an accident, an unaccepted apology, and Shan found himself in the base hospital for a week in traction while several attendants re-knit his ribs. Shan promised himself no more bars or nightclubs. Now shore leave meant quiet places with good resturants; less exciting, but far healthier.

 

T'Aral nodded, accepting the explanation without detail. "You are otherwise quite healthy, Ensign. Do you have any concerns?" She paused for a moment, then finished. "Any concerns at all about your health, or perhaps your assignment?"

 

Shan thought for a minute; it might be the wrong thing to admit to, but he just had to talk to somebody. "Well, I've got a few nerves about the assignment. I mean, I've never flown anything larger than a glorified transport. A starship: that's over 800 kilo's of hardware. I expect it'll handle differently. I've had simulations before and all, but this is the real thing."

 

T'Aral sat quietly and nodded. "Your concerns are not unusual. However: Starfleet rarely makes mistakes in such matters. Your training obviously would cover these situations, otherwise you would not have been assigned. I expect that you are far more competent than you believe." She then glanced over to Shalin with as much gentleness as she could muster. "Or – is it Fire Control which bothers you?"

 

Shan fell silent; it was the one part of the Helm assignment he dreaded. "… yeah."

 

T'Aral nodded again, offering as much understanding as she could. "As an Argelian you are a pacifist, which no doubt makes this challenging. It is a part of your duties which you must make peace with if you are to keep your assignment. Is this something that you wish to do?"

 

Shan stiffened, and nodded. "Yes Ma'am. I knew what I was getting into when I signed on, and nobody has made it easy for me. I know what it is to be a Helmsman, and I'm ready."

 

T'Aral stood, adjusting her notes. She had her doubts – Shan might well not be ready for his assignment, but there was no indication in his responses. She would have to keep a watch on him. "If you find that you need someone to speak with, I am at your disposal. Otherwise you are fit and cleared for duty. Do you have any questions?"

 

"Just one …" Shan blushed slightly again. "… is there an easy way to tell where you are in this ship? I keep getting lost."

 

It was almost enough to make T'Aral laugh – almost, but thankfully not quite enough. "If you'll step this way Ensign, I will show you where the corridor addresses are found and explain the ship's polar co-ordinate system."