Working out the kinks ...

[T'aral 0]

( The following log takes place during our fifteen minute TBS... )

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At the conclusion of the senior staff meeting, the CMO had asked for a private moment with Calestorm; the captain waited patiently as the last stragglers filed out of the briefing room, and then turned her attention to the Vulcan officer."Something on your mind Doc?" Cale easily fell into the use of the call sign the CMO had been tagged with.

 

T'Aral said nothing at first, but instead walked about the Captain and began pressing on her back gently. She quickly found several tension spots, which she began to address through neuropressure. With one leg perched on a corner of the briefing room table, most of her weight leaning, the captain was already in a position conducive for the medical officer to begin treatment. With TAral not in her line of sight, Calestorm allowed a small smile to show in gentle amusement as the CMO immediately went about working on her back.

 

"Captain - we really need to discuss your stress level at some point. While I can understand that you do not have control over the circumstances you find yourself in, too much tension will prove detrimental to your health." Finding a particularly stubborn knotted muscle, she pressed three fingers firmly about it to convince it to release. The Captain's smile dropped while she grunted as one of the larger tension muscles were worked over. She hissed through her teeth. "Also, while there is no need for a formal medical as I have had ample chance to evaluate your overall health during your recovery, I haven't asked about your knee in a while. Speaking informally … how are you doing?"

 

The captain glanced over her shoulder. "To be honest, our little field trip at Epsilon Scorpii did not help. My range of motion has been limited. More limited, I should say. Though I note improvement each day that I complete my daily workout routine."

 

T'Aral nodded as she worked, noting both the improvement mentioned and the improvement in the Captain's back. "Should the routine not provide satisfactory progress, let me know and we will see what can be done to improve matters more expeditiously." This was precisely why she had taken the time to apply care now. Her instructors in Starfleet noted that command officers rarely sought medical care or review on their own, placing medical officers in difficult situations. It was recommended that medical officers learn to take a discreet initiative, allowing their commanders to respond and thereby open up if there is a problem. It was a technique based in the psychology of command officers - a difficult subject at the very least.

 

The Captain's attention remained fixated on the observation window, watching as several flight squads would zoom sporadically into view. Then, Calestorm spoke again, the statement abrupt. "I've been considering taking you up on that suggestion as soon as we have extended leave coming."

 

T'Aral paused briefly at the Captain's reply. "I assume you are speaking of reconstruction? Considering the amount of Away Team command you have taken on it is highly recommended." She paused momentarily to consider options, then continued. "You may wish to consider not waiting for an extended leave. The surgery itself is brief, and the first week of rehabilitation is the most difficult. By the third week you would be effectively ambulatory. This could be arranged during a supply or transportation assignment."

 

Calestorm made an answering murmur of agreement. "I'll touch base again with you when I receive orders for those specific missions." Crash rolled a shoulder tentatively, then broached another subject. "You did well during the Epsilon Scorpii mission Lieutenant. Or should I say, you performed within the expected parameters. It's unusual for a medical officer to be placed in a command position, but it does happen."

 

A small, quiet part of T'Aral initially tensed when the Captain suggested that she had done 'well'. She had hardly done well at all. Vulcans took pride in managing their affairs in an orderly manner, and the E. Scorpii incident was anything but orderly. Her inner core relaxed slightly as the Captain corrected herself; '... as expected …' would be much more accurate. T'Aral was hardly a forceful individual except in the most clear of circumstances. While she would forever remember E. Scorpii as an utter failure on her part, her sense of self was unharmed. Her performance met every expectation.

 

"Have you ever considered commanding a medical response ship?" The captain was probing, but doing so gently; it was her job to know the limitations and expectations of her senior officers.

 

"No, Captain - I have not." T'Aral's response was flatly monotone. "It is a mis-application of skills to establish an officer as a ship's captain simply because she is a doctor. Command of a ship requires command skills, not medical skills. My skills are medical - I am content where I am." It was the absolute truth, and hardly surprising among Vulcans. In order for T'Aral to take an interest in a command, even a medical one, there had to be a logical reason. There was little logic to her assignment on E. Scorpii, and even less to suggest that she should have a command for any length of time. She paused momentarily, finishing work on the Captain's lower back. "Are you still going to pursue the use of shuttlecraft for the rescue mission? Transporters, used in conjunction with ship's sensors and a tactical analysis of the terrain, would prove far more discreet." T'Aral had a mixed opinion of the Prime Directive. Ideally it would be preferable to have more advanced races guide the less developed ones, helping them avoid the mistakes which were made. A great benefit could be encouraged if benevolent guidance could be applied to developing peoples. Yet she also saw the numerous disadvantages: to guide a race often meant dismantling their individuality. The diversity of the galaxy would be lost under such a plan, no matter how well-intentioned. Further, to guide a civilization suggested that one knew what was best for that civilization. As every species and culture is based in a unique set of circumstances, such insight was virtually impossible. Vulcans referred to such situations as Action Without Cognition, Humans referred to it as 'playing God'. In either case, the intended statement was the same: developed races should not meddle in the affairs of others, as none are suitably qualified.

 

"The transporter will be employed for our initial on site survey of the situation Lieutenant. Shuttles will be held as secondary transport." The captain patiently waited as the CMO applied a final set of pressure points to her back muscles; she gently disengaged from the contact and turned to face T'Aral. "Thank you Lieutenant. I do feel much better." Crash rolled her neck and continued speaking. "Chances are, those of the senior staff and crew who resemble the Neural inhabitants with a minimal amount of cosmetic applications will be called on for away team duties. I can count on you Lieutenant?"

 

T'Aral's eyebrow cocked curiously. Vulcans rarely resemble the native populations of any planet, and cosmetic changes were challenging. Humans were a far easier matter - they bore no distinguishing characteristics which stood out unnecessarily, and prostetics went a long way to creating an illusion. Vulcan features were far more prominent. Still, T'Aral was a committed Starfleet officer, and she trusted that the Captain knew what she was doing at least reasonably well. "Both myself and my department are at your disposal, Captain. I assumed you were aware of this."

 

The CO's lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. "Of course. My mistake El Tee. If you'll excuse me, I have some matters to attend to on the bridge." With a respectful nod to the ship's CMO, Calestorm excused herself and exited the briefing room.