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Everything posted by Dr. Miriam Sepguta

  1. "Not pirates," stated Miriam softly, her attention diverted to adjusting the secondary console to display the passive sensor readouts. "Piracy is about profits. There's no profit in blowing up a ship using mines unless you're the one selling the mines. Even then it's iffy. Mining a three dimensional space is expensive but once its done its hard to sell a service contract." Leaning over her console, hair falling forward to create a curtain hiding her face, Miriam changed the subject abruptly. "How long would their auxiliary power hold out under that kind of load J'Sira?" Miriam asked as her fingers stroked the console, continuing to refine the display. "Whenever that is, that's the outer edge of when this stops being a rescue mission." While the XO considered options and the Chief Engineer calculated, Miriam continued to work her own problem. It was outside the scope of her normal duties but any first year cadet would have known how to access the shuttle sensor logs and sensor data was sensor data regardless of whether it was a medical tricorder or the much more powerful passive sensor array built into the hull of the shuttle. More important than than any skill was the simple fact of the existence of the barrier itself. With the barrier behind the shuttle there was no ambiguity to resolve in absolute direction as to whether the signal was ahead or behind, which meant she had only to resolve the bearing of the repeating signal from the Crater. It was simple problem at that point; find the bearing displaying the highest amplitude of signal, compare that to the sensor log from the first seconds after they crossed the barrier then overlay both onto a single display of the local map. It would better if the Tiburon had traveled further between the two sampling, the estimation of distance would be better, but it was a good place to start. "Ensign Jensen," Miriam spoke up suddenly, "can you tell me how far away this point is from our current position?"
  2. Striding down the corridor at a brisk pace Miriam nodded or flashed her professional smile at the people greeting her as she moved past. Many of them addressed her as doctor rather than lieutenant so apparently they knew who she was even if she only recognized the faces from the Maraval. How they knew her already was a bit of a mystery but information did pass quickly aboard the closed environment of a star ship. The only thing faster than warp drive was gossip, or so sayeth the old spacers adage. Hopefully the task she'd just sandbagged her new med-tech with was going to give the angry young woman an outlet for her energies. In a larger environment with more personnel Miriam would have the luxury of reassigning the petty officer in the duty rotation. Or teaming her directly with a junior officer or a senior enlisted to train her and keep her out of trouble. That approach wasn't going to work on Destiny though. It was a small team and aside from being what Miriam would call overly confrontational there was no indications Seta didn't do her job or do it well. Her predecessor seemed to think so but then he also went out of his way to avoid saying Miriam should cut her any slack. And it did bother Miriam that Isk seemed familiar enough with Seta's antics to pointedly overlook her action and that Zoya seemed unwilling to call her on her attitude. Miriam wasn't overly fond of protocol but on a star ship underway a little aggression could become a problem very quickly. Miriam had read Bajoran's were a spiritual people but that didn't seem to explain Seta. She might well be spiritual but apparently that spirituality didn't translate to a need to repress herself in the least. The sudden image of Seta snarking at her Bajoran gods - called 'prophets' according to the database - did bring an real smile to Miriam's face as she waited behind two ensigns already in line for the turbo lift to arrive. Per ancient military tradition, officers - especially department heads and above - stood in the back of the queue to enter a lift as a courtesy. Last to board therefore first to depart. Miriam hadn't thought much of such traditions, especially considering how small most turbo lifts were, but somehow it didn't seem silly when she needed to get to where the captain had told her to meet her away team. "Flight deck," Miriam announced as they boarded knowing the computer would recognize her rank and prioritize the stops accordingly. Miriam turned slightly to the back of the lift and nodded politely to the ensigns. They looked familiar though she could not recall their names at all. They both looked young though, almost too young to be in Starfleet. And a little timid. As soon as the doors opened with that familiar sound of air being pushed out of the way Miriam stepped out and found herself outside the secondary airlock seals of the flight deck. From deeper in the ship still approaching the flight deck drifted the familiar voices of her fellow officers. Miriam shifted her medical kit to her left hand to brush her tunic with her right to straighten the lines of her uniform as she waited for the XO and the others to reach her so she could fall into the group..
  3. Meanwhile, in the sickbay of the USS Destiny, Dr. Miriam Sepguta was discussing volume physics with her medical technician Petty Officer Seta Nupaye while her nurses Zoya and Isk purposely and methodically put together the twenty emergency medical kits Miriam required of her staff. The assembly of the kits had also been an issue with Seta until Miriam had asked point blank what concerns the woman - barely more than a girl really - had with the kits. In that staccato speech pattern filled with passion, Seta had leapfrogged from waste of replicator mass to storage concerns with a brief stop at the unverified need for having additional emergency medical kits ready to issue. Miriam was quickly coming to realize it was the nature of the Bajoran to question authority. For now it wasn't an issue but the moment would come when she'd need to have a hard talk with the girl. Smiling, Miriam remembered she still needed to explain to Seta she had only a qualm or two about returning the petty officer to Asgard station by way of medical stasis tube and photon launcher if she questioned Miriam's judgement in public. While Earth might be a paradise world and a virtual Utopia compared to a planet like Bajor occupied by a militaristic race of bigoted Cardassian's, Miriam wasn't from Earth and Seta was coming closer to finding that out. Squeezing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger while she gathered her composure for a moment, Miriam suddenly looked up and interrupted Seta with a question. "How much volume, not space, does a surgical suite bio-bed require," she asked in the soft tone she normally used. "43.85 cubic meters," Seta responded. "That's assuming a width of..." Miriam immediately cut her off. "Add in surgical space for a doctor to work, not just the bed space." "Um, that would be an additional 2 meters of flat dimensional space multiplied by …." Again Miriam cut her off. "Now multiple that by 2 and reserve that volume of side by side space." Back and forth Miriam and Seta went with Miriam adding additional requirements and Seta responding to those requirements with calculations apparently made off the top of head. Each time Seta tried to ask a question, a tactic Miriam assumed was her way of trying to re-direct the conversation, Miriam would add more requirements to the increasing complex problem. Miriam was actually becoming impressed with the young woman abilities to run the calculations in her head while not getting lost in the details but she kept her tone soft and her face calm until the Seta provided her a final total. "So what facilities will that volume allow us," she asked the agitated petty officer, "according to your calculations anyway. Seta's eyes flashed fire as she visibly bristled at the implication her calculations might be anything other than correct. "That would be a total 2 surgical suites, 15 bio-beds, large enough triage site to handle at least 20 people and," Seta closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, "a decontamination space big large enough to handle another 20 people. I think I could fit an additional surgical bed in with some tweaks of the gravity field." The petty officer flashed a savagely triumphant grin at Miriam, obviously proud of what she'd just done in her head. "Good," responded Miriam, her voice still soft. "I concur. Now design it." Seeing the confusion on Seta's face, Miriam continued. "You've got the calculations right, or at least I don't see a major mistake. Now I need you to build it." "But," argued Seta less certain than she had been a moment ago, "there's already a design in the computer for an emergency medical auxiliary in the Holodeck. I can pull it up for you." Seta started for the computer console but Miriam stopped her. "I already looked at it and it's a great layout for physical space," Miriam countered holding her hands up in a placating gesture, "but it doesn't conform to the physical requirements of the holodeck on the Destiny. And before you point it out I know how a gravity envelope works. I'm still not going to put someone's life in the hands of a cookie cutter holodeck template. I don't care why my predecessor didn't build one. I am telling you to build it." "You saw what happened to the command staff, Seta." Miriam stated bluntly and dispassionately. "Now build me a sickbay in a box and make it a good one." For a split second Miriam could have sworn Seta actually looked afraid but their conversation was cut short by the voice of the captain ordering her to muster on the flight deck for away team duty. She had questions but if the captain was issuing the order that probably meant things were happening quickly. Grabbing her away kit from her office she was moving out of the sickbay almost faster than the door could open automatically. "Kosst," cursed Seta staring at the door after it closed. "I think I might hate her." "Maybe she'll grow on you," responded Isk with a hidden smile as her nimble fingers put together another emergency medical kit. "She's kind of cute though," said responded the hairless Deltan woman, her own thin fingers reaching for a dermal regeneration unit to place in the kit she was building. "Hides a little fire behind that calm. More than you'd think." "Really?" Isk queried with a throaty laugh. "Are you peeping on other people again with that naughty brain of yours and what did you see?" "Oh Isk! You and that slug in your tummy are the naughty ones," Zoya protested. "You know I couldn't possibly share privileged information like that. Not in a public place anyway." As the two women discussed the etiquette of telepathic voyeurism while building more medical kits, Seta stared at the closed door to sickbay. "Kosst," she swore again.
  4. "Again, keep an eye out for stress," Miriam reminded her fellow department heads. "They''re good people but haven't had the normal avenues of care. If you have a concern feel free to contact me and we'll set something up." Flashing a quick professional smile Miriam turned and walked away. For a moment she considered going to the bridge but there was nothing she could do there she couldn't do in sickbay. And there was far more she could do in her domain than out of it. She'd need to discuss the medical overrides on the holodeck with Seta to ensure those were in place especially if they needed to deal with casualties. Which reminded her; she'd need to talk with Jensen as the conn officer and review the protocols in place to shift the flight deck from flight operations to medical triage. Or should she be talking with the Ops Manager? ''Glebbening!' Miriam cursed in Ferengi under her breath. Taking a deep breath Miriam reminded herself the point was to be prepared to give care not agonize over what she did or didn't know.Well, she could always ask. If the witches didn't know then she could ask the computer who had the authority to change flight deck protocols. That should give her the answer without needing to interrupt anyone to figure out something basic. Mentally she began reviewing and re-prioritizing her action list to deal with the worst she could think of. Unconsciously she picked up her pace as snippets of her worst scenarios began to unfold in her mind while she made her way to the Jeffries tube Seta had mentioned to her earlier. Closer than the turbo lift and a straight run to just outside the inner hull of the sickbay where this section of tube terminated. The caustic Bajoran petty officer supporting her medical technologies had guaranteed it was the fastest way from the upper decks - where the lock was located - to a sickbay entrance. Arriving at the tube Miriam grabbed the rungs at shoulder height, braced her feet on the sides of the vertical supports then shifted her hands to the sides and let the artificial gravity of the Destiny take over. Seta was right, Miriam thought as she dropped down the shaft. This would get her there more quickly than the turbo lift. Assuming she didn't break her leg at the bottom.
  5. "The crew of the Destiny is medically fit," Miriam answered before Chief Cutter, absently tucking one errant strand of black behind her ear as she spoke. "You'll have the medical status report as soon as I get to a working terminal but the crew is physically ready and able. A bruise here and there. A hyper-extended knee from a holodeck accident that should be healed in another hour and I released a technician back to full duty before we left of dinner. If I have any concerns at all it's for the emotional health of the crew. There hasn't been a counselor on board since the spore incident and there might be those who can benefit from some assistance. Department heads should keep an eye out for people that seem withdrawn or possibly more stressed than the situation warrants." Clasping her hands behind her back Miriam finished her verbal medical readiness report for LT Batim. "All of that said; my medical opinion is the best therapy for the crew as a whole is to get back to work and not have station commanders second guessing their readiness. I'll be happy to note that in my medical log."
  6. "That would be the cue," Miriam announced as she dropped the linen napkin on the plate and rose from her seat. Tapping the communication badge on her tunic she continued as she pushed her chair back to the table, "Destiny this is Sepguta. Please pass the following message to all medical staff; standby for departure brief. End message." "I can confirm receipt of your message with nurse Isk, Doctor" responded a young male voice Miriam was already coming to recognize. "She's getting in touch with the rest of the witches now." "Thank you, Cadet." Miriam said smiling as she sprinted to catch Anjala then matching her longer legged pace she asked, "Is Cadet Roberts ever not on duty?"
  7. Miriam sat on the edge of her desk in the CMO's office and looked over the medical staff of the USS Destiny sitting in the chairs she had brought in for them. She'd briefly thought about sitting down herself behind the big desk dominating the room but on the spur of the moment had chosen not to. That would suggest a power dynamic she absolutely did not want to start with. If they were going to be a team, and they had to be a good one for the sake of the crew, she would need to set the right tone. She'd even spent the last 20 minutes or so trying to organize her thoughts into a speech like the one her team leader on her last assignment had give to her team on their first day but again decided against it. She'd learned a great deal from that supervisor but hadn't forgotten the best of what she learned came when the Bolian woman had foregone formality and simply talked to her. Miriam hadn't always liked the things she'd been told but had come to respect the other woman's honesty. "Ladies," she began softly, "Doctor Taol's temporary reassignment was logged 24 minutes ago in his medical log. I don't know when he's going to be back but until he is back I want to be sure the one thing he does not have to worry about is whether this crew is being taken care of. I'm not him but over time you're going to get to know me and know I'm here for the same reason he was here; caring for this crew." "It must be pretty amazing though," interrupted the Bajoran petty officer serving as her medtech, her tone more than a little aggressive. "I mean those pips look pretty new and you're taking over as Chief Medical Officer? Good luck replacing Doctor Taol." Thin and tall even when sitting, the nearly hairless Deltan nurse Zoya immediately brought her delicate long fingered hand to her gracefully curved forehead hiding her face as soon as the Bajoran woman began to talk. It was a gesture not unlike what a human would have called a 'face palm' if she'd been human. No gesture was universal even among humanoids but it seemed as if the Deltan had seen this sort of behavior before. The other nurse, a lanky dark blonde haired Trill female named Isk, simply continued to smile while pointedly ignoring the Bajoran's commentary. Miriam hadn't time to review the Bajoran's records but Taol had made a point to let her know what he thought of each member of his team after he'd introduced them to Miriam. The Deltan female was practical and technically competent, had an excellent bedside manner only improved by her racial ability to suppress pain in others even if she were predictably a magnet for the attentions of the crew despite using the pheromone suppressants to alleviate the amorous effects her scent produced. Isk was a species that had been a Federation member for a long time but it was only within the last couple of years Federation scientists realized some of the race formed a symbiotic relationship with a secondary life form found on their planet. Miriam was looking forward to talking with her in-depth about the physical and psychological implications of a being 'joined' including what it was like to have the memories of other lifetimes. More importantly though Isk was an excellent neurologist, a competent scrub nurse and apparently knew more than a little about genetic manipulation despite the Federation ban on genetic augmentation research. That left the Bajoran, Petty Officer third class Seta Nupaye. Small but still taller than Miriam with dark brown hair and the overlapping cartilage pattern down the bridge of the nose that was a genetically dominant trait for Bajorans, who otherwise looked very similar to baseline humans. Taol had been quick to note the enlisted woman could come across as acerbic and confrontational, which Miriam took to mean that would be the case. He'd also noted she was extremely skilled when it came to installing and maintaining the medical equipment of the Destiny. He went so far as to credit Seta for the cutting edge sickbay being up and running as quickly as it was during the shakedown cruise. He hadn't asked Miriam to cut her any slack, had actually backed away from that very quickly when Miriam pressed gently, but was obviously a believer in her abilities. "A couple of points, yah?" Miriam responded, her accent slipping into her words. "Primus; Doctor Taol is temporarily reassigned. I have the title but when he comes back he will take over as Chief Medical Officer again. Secondus," she continued, talking over the Bajoran's response, "In regards to my pips I will reiterate what you might have missed the first time." Enunciating each word with care, as if each syllable were the next cut in a surgical procedure, Miriam carefully articulated her point, "I am here to care for this crew. We are here for this crew. If anyone is not here for the crew please let me know. I will find a place for you. It will be meaningful work but it won't be in sickbay." "Yah? Are we clear ladies?" Miriam asked pointedly looking at Seta. "Yes sir," Seta answered. The expression on her face was one of someone who'd just bitten into something less tasty than she imagined it would be but she seemed willing to modify her behavior and that was all Miriam needed to know. Even though she was focused on Seta, she saw Isk and Zoya nodding in her peripheral vision. "I prefer 'doctor' to rank or being called sir," Miriam corrected gently. "Its one of those things we're going to find out about each other. Like where we're from, what kind of sutures we prefer, and who did what to whom. Things like that." Miriam honestly felt she'd dealt with the potential problem of Seta about as well as was needed and didn't want to single her out more than she had. In private she'd let the Bajoran know the office door was always open, she was expected to speak her mind in private and that Miriam would have the conn officer deliver the Bajoran back to the station by way of a stasis tube fired out of a photon launcher if she ever pulled a stunt like this in public. Miriam took a moment to smile and decided it was time to move it along. "So. We give the care the patient needs. We do it right the first time. If every one follows those guidelines I don't think we're going to have any issues." For the next few minutes Miriam explained what she needed from each of them in order for her to prepare the medical readiness report to submit to the executive officer in the morning. Then she listened to each concern they were willing to express about the report, or more generally what the crew needed from the medical department. Unsurprisingly they felt the medical department was understaffed and wanted Miriam to pursue the activation of the emergency medical holographic system at a minimum. Miriam in turn agreed to discuss the matter with the captain and made a note to find out exactly what an 'emergency medical hologram' actually was. Potentially it was related the holographic emitters she'd noticed on the ceiling and walls of sickbay though initially she thought those were for record making. As the meeting broke up Miriam walked around the desk to slide into her seat when she realized Zoya was still in the doorway. "Something else?" Miriam asked, her head cocked while mentally realizing - again - just how much taller the Deltan female was to her own diminutive 157.5 centimeters. "Were you planning on re-certifying my oath of celibacy, Lieutenant, er, doctor," inquired the woman in a voice that would have seemed suggestive in another species but was probably her equivalent of 'hi mom, I'm doing fine'. "I'll get on that as soon as you re-certify mine." Miriam joked glibly. Seeing the smooth headed woman stare back at her blankly Miriam knew the jest didn't translate. Sighing, she flicked her finger on the computer screen built into her desk and moved from file after file of the crew for a few seconds before elaborating. "I know you have one. Every first year cadet takes the required Introduction to Xeno-biology. Everyone knows Deltan's wanting to serve in Starfleet have one on file. I know there's a real danger involved in sexual relations but ...I just think its a bit disingenuous to require an oath from a Deltan but not one from a Bolian before he swaps spit with a human. Or, I guess, not requiring a full disclosure that relations with a Trill might be described as a ménage à trois. I'll need to ask Isk about that one though." "So, no," Miriam summarized looking up from her desk into Zoya's dark eyes, "I don't need to see your oath of celibacy." "You are going to be fun," Zoya replied, a mischievous grin lighting up her pretty face like a dawning sunrise. Turning pertly she exited the office with just a little too much bounce to her step. It appeared to be more for the benefit of anyone looking than the unconscious body language of an extremely sensuous alien species. 'Yah,' Miriam thought with only a tinge of sarcasm, 'this is going to work out just fine.' Shaking her head the new chief medical officer of the USS Destiny focused back on her display and started screening the records of the crew in earnest adding tags to their records for later analysis. Expired physicals, physicals done off the ship, those with specialized medical needs like the new chief engineer, chronic medical conditions or conditions that could be a factor in specialized environments or situations. In no time at all she felt herself relaxing into the rhythm of the task and began to hum to herself..
  8. Dismissed by the Captain, Miriam fell in behind the doctor she would be replacing as he exited the conference room and walked onto the bridge. Rather than following the curve of the layout counter-clockwise to the turbo lift, he walked directly to the center of the bridge and motioned his relief to take a seat in the first of the set of three chairs mounted there. The middle was the captain's chair of course while the seat to the captain's right would be used by the first officer now Lt. Batim. The third, in Miriam's experience, could be used for visiting dignitaries or specialists observing bridge operations. "That's my seat," Taol announced quietly as the others made their way from the brief to the turbo lift, passing on the other side of railing separating the chairs from all bridge stations except the ops and conn positions. "Or rather it was was my seat," he added with emphasis on the word 'was'. Miriam said nothing and watched the older man as he looked over her head watching the others depart. Miriam heard the turbo lift doors open and close then open again as the next lift came to ferry the last of the officers off the bridge. The captain and Anjala, or rather the captain and the XO, were still in the conference discussing whatever command officers needed to talk about but everyone else had filed off the bridge leaving only Miriam, Dr. Taol and the operations cadet who was still on watch. When the turbo lift doors closed a second time taking the last of the new arrivals away, Taol turned his attention to her. "If you pull that screen up I already have the medical authorizations ready to be transferred to you," he said still keeping his voice low. "Then we can talk about whatever you want to talk about." Pulling the console from its stowed position next to the chair Miriam saw it was already locked with Taol's authorization. "I'll need ...", she began but he was already ahead of her and reached over the console to tap in his code. It was such a strange thing to be intimidated by and yet she had to admit she was a little intimidated. He was so familiar with the console he could enter his codes upside down without even pausing. With the console unlocked she saw he'd prepared the transfer of authorizations for everything from the medical tissue and drug replication systems, to the chemical stores that contained biomimetic gels as well as Trianoline and access to all medical and counseling records. "What kind of relationship do you maintain with ship's counselor?" Miriam asked, biting her lower lip as she began to accept the authorizations Taol had prepared for her. Counselors were an interesting situations for medical personnel in that they were nominally assigned to the medical department but did not report to the Chief Medical Officer. It was one of the things on her mental turnover list she wanted to check off hopefully by Taol telling her how great the counselor was. "In the past" he responded dryly, "our relationship was professionally courteous. Now its just professional." Not understanding, Miriam looked up from the console to see the stone mask that had slipped over his face as he continued to look over her head with that slightly unfocused look that told her whatever he was he was seeing was for his eyes alone. Intellect and imagination were powerful combinations but definitely a two edged sword in that it could work against the possessor as easily as for if a person allowed it. This was something Miriam knew well from her own experiences. The captain had said the command staff had been affected by the spores and that group would have included the ship's counselor. So he or she was in medical stasis with the rest of the command staff, Miriam put together mentally. Which meant there'd been no ship's counselor to assist the crew with dealing with what had happened and the loss the crew had experienced. "I'm sorry," Miriam temporized as she finished up the transfer of authority. She wanted to tell him it would be okay. Starfleet Medical would do everything in their power to treat the victims and restore them to health but he must know that already. And had probably already assessed the likelihood any of those people that had been his friends and coworkers would recover let alone return to duty. Despite not yet having seen the medical records Miriam honestly felt no one could have foreseen what had happened to the crew. No predictive model, none she was aware of, could have ascertained the effect on the spores caused by the reinforcement of the subspace harmonics though she was less certain it was impossible to predict the subsequent effect those spores would then have on the crew. He might very well have spent his waking moments since the tragedy second guessing every tick of the clock it took to realize there was a problem then to take decisive action. Medical stasis would not have been the immediate response to the situation the Captain described so and the neurological crystallization wouldn't have been immediately evident. "Finished," she announced and pushed the console back into the standby position alongside the chair. "If you have time I'd like to be introduced to your medical staff. Other than that I'm open to advice." "Or anything you might want to talk about," she added. "Introductions I can do," the older doctor responded a little gruffly, ignoring the implied offer of someone to talk with. Rising from the chair Miriam followed, hands clasped behind her back, as he led the way to turbo lift while describing his, shortly to be her, medical team. "You have a three member team," he explained as they entered the turbo lift. "2 nurses and a med tech. Computer: Sickbay." The closing of the turbo lift doors ended the conversation on the bridge leaving the operations cadet alone with the low level beeps and chimes of the consoles to keep him company.
  9. Miriam’s sat poised; left leg crossed over right with hands clasped and resting on her thighs, her back straight as a Tellarite’s sense of diplomacy while the captain explained the situation. In the long trip to Asgard station and the Destiny she, along with Anjala and J’Sira, had spent time theorizing on what waited each of them at the end of the voyage. Much as J’Sira thought she’d be going to an engineering job, never considering the plum assignment she’d just been given, Miriam’s own assignment was far beyond anything she’d ever considered possible. Miriam knew her skill sets, her value as a surgeon. But the possibility of taking over as an entire medical department just wasn’t something that crossed her mind at this stage of her career. Taking a deep breath as the captain continued to announce the assignments, Miriam realized she’d need to push harder to adjust her concept of herself to adapt to the new role she’s been given. Once she’d demonstrated her aptitude for surgery, her instructors - later her mentors - had been happy to push her to explore her capabilities. She’d spent huge chunks of time in holodeck suites in the small-small hours of the night, when no one wanted to trek the simulated deserts of Vulcan or play with Orion slave boys and girls. In those simulated environments she’d conducted surgical procedures on every intelligent species known to the Alpha and later the Beta Quadrants. She could repair a Vulcan’s nictitating membrane with an ultrasonic scalpel, perform an emergency cesarean on a Deltan using Tellarite obsidian tools, or repair a Horta’s acidic glands damaged by Hortimer’s Syndrome. She’d even tested herself against the McCoy Surgical Challenge involving reconnecting and stimulating neural pathways to rejoin a brain to it’s body. She’d been a surgeon, and for 6 years the desire to be a good one had driven her to test her absolute limits both mentally and physically by performing some of the most delicate work ever conceived until she realized there might be more. Unbidden the words of her mentor on in Starfleet Medical Crisis Response came back to her. ‘You’re good cutter, Miriam,’ the Bolian doctor had said to her with a smile on her blue face, ‘and I love to watch you work. Just don’t forget that body belongs to someone. Surgeons are also doctors.’ At the time Miriam didn’t understand what her friend was trying to say. It was only later ministering to her in an emergency shelter on another world, as she coughed up pale blue blood, that Miriam understood. A good surgeon saved lives, but it was just a set of skills among many. A doctor might not be a surgeon, but a surgeon had to be a doctor. And in the right place at the right time a doctor could save many more lives. The memory of her epiphany was still fresh, the lesson one she still struggled with, but it looked like the galaxy was going to help her by putting her in a place where they needed a doctor as well as a surgeon. Maybe it was only temporary, until Taol returned, but still. These people were her charges and she would be their doctor. As the captain called for questions she realized she felt more comfortable than she had in weeks. “No questions Captain but I’ll coordinate with Dr. Taol after the brief as he prepares to depart, “she responded, the light accent of her people giving an almost musical sound to her words. “I’ll start the medical status review and have a preliminary report to Lt. Batim by the morning.”
  10. Miriam's shoulders straightened a little as she heard her name called by the senior NCO. Brushing her right hand across her tunic to square away the lines of her uniform as she spared a glance at the group, her professional face slipping into place. "Time for the river to get moving, Mister Jensen" she said quietly, turning and moving off to meet with Master Chief Cutter. "Master Chief," she greeted him, closing from her position a few paces away, "I'm Doctor Sepguta." She looked upward to meet his gaze as she came to a halt a step away and announced, "Reporting for 'duty."
  11. "A bit," responded Miriam staring at at the PADD in her hand while absently biting her lower lip. "These orders are very non-specific. 'Report to the USS Destiny for duties assigned.' Medical personnel are usually detailed to fill specific roles. Even if the role is administrative or a subordinate support position. This is the first time I've received orders this," she hesitated for a moment searching for the right word then finished with, "generic." "It is very curious," Miriam finished, looking at the other five in the group.
  12. Miriam rose from the table leaving her food untouched and joined J'Sira at the windows. Asgard station. It was massive and probably messy as as hell if the the incomplete construction were any indication. It was also beautiful, magnificent and was a gateway to whatever was going to happen next. "Health and Hearth," Miriam answered J'Sira. "Hope to see you all again." Turning she looked at each in turn with a smile for them before turning away from the window. Purposely she strode across the room, tapping her communicator as she moved. "Connect to ship's computer. Computer commence a 30 minute countdown with alerts at ten minute interval relayed through my comm badge. Confirm the request." "Confirmed," responded the feminine voice of a Star Fleet coded computer system. "Computer, consolidate all personal files for transfer to isolinear storage in my assigned quarters." she continued moving out the door and down the corridor towards the turbolift. "Confirm please." "Pending confirmation. Clarify if personal files includes pattern files for replicator fabrication." queried the voice from the communication badge on her tunic. "All files means all files computer. I will disembarking the ship shortly. Provide update on countdown please." For a split second Miriam hesitated as she entered the turbolift trying to remember the closest junction to her quarters. Shrugging she settled for letting the computer decide. "Take me to the closest access point to my quarters please." Spotting a group of young officers double timing it towards the turbo lift, Miriam ordered the computer to hold the door while motioning them to get in. "Files are prepped for transfer," announced her comm badge. "Countdown is 27 minutes and 12 seconds." Miriam leaned back against the wall for a moment taking the time for a deep breath as the ensigns murmured to each other. The file transfers would be quick and she could start it before she did the check on her med kit and tricorder. A quick sonic shower, recycle this uniform before grabbing another then ready. The turbolift doors opened and Miriam squeezed past the other users to exit to the corridor. Luckily she recognized this junction and made it to her quarters quickly. Sensing her entry a subdued lighting came on punctuated by a slowly flashing green light on the cabin terminal indicating the file transfer she'd requested was ready. Moving to the bunk she grabbed the leather back pack lying on the floor and reached in to pull out the flat yellow crystal from the side pouch. With a laminate coating making it stronger than many metals the isolinear crystal held the pattern for everything from holographic family photos, to patterns for scalpels and dresses, and even the family secret of her mother's R'lythian fruit pie recipe. Smoothly she slotted it into the computer terminal. "Computer, please commence backup of personal files to the chip in place in my quarters," she requested shucking off her uniform and undergarments. Stepping into the small stall containing the sonic shower and the refresher she took a moment to take a few more deep breathes as she assessed her reflection. "Miriam Sepguta." Putting on an air of her best professional confidence she continued, "Welcome to the next step in your life. This isn't crisis response. New orders, new job, new facility. Everything is going to be fine." Her reflection seemed a little less sure than Miriam would have liked but only a hint of the excitement she was feeling in heart showed in the reflection. Miriam moved into the shower feeling the pressure waves of sound massage her skin. New uniform. Recycle old. Grab the comm badge. She continued to mentally update the list of tasks in her head, deleting the things already done. She was just stepping out of the shower cubicle when the comm badge on her tunic gave a muffled beep to alert her to the passing of time. Plenty of time then who knew? Glancing in the mirror Miriam saw far too much excitement on the face of her reflection. "Stop that dear," she said crossly. "You're a doctor. Act like one." Her reflection dutifully looked somber while it occurred to Miriam she would look far more professional if she weren't naked. "Uniforms, chip, my medical tricorder, comm badge and backpack" she said aloud updating her list of preparations while pulling her panties on.
  13. "Doctor Miriam Sepguta formerly of Star Fleet Medical Crisis Alert. You'll need to talk to these two about the game," Miriam said jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Anjala and J'Sira. "I believe we're in agreement no game has been decided upon but warm up activity is taking place. It would seem a good time to expand the circle. But I need food first." Turning back to Anjala and J'Sira, Miriam silently mouths the word 'famished' then whirls to stride away towards the nearest open replicator.
  14. "I stand corrected." Miriam replied. Hooking her thumb in the direction of the nearest replicator she announced "I'm going to get something to eat. Did you ladies want something?"
  15. Miriam takes the darts and positions to throw while commenting, "You did fine. First round with strange darts and nobody was injured? You're a savant." With a fluid motion Miriam tosses three darts in less time than it take to tell then walks to the target to inspect. "Adequate," she announces pulling the darts loose to bring them to J'Sira.
  16. "Uh uh, J'Sira" cautioned Miriam. "The game has started and I do believe the selection of the next game is the right of the victor. Or at least no one objected to that condition before the game started. You want to play cricket you have to win at darts first. Or talk the winner into it." Sotto voce Miriam looped the conversation back to Anjala's earlier comment, "It was so cute! I patterned it after the main character of his favorite holo-novel. Which I found out about it, because I walked in on him while he was running the program because he wasn't responding to the comms. It was more than a little embarrassing for him, I think. And of course I've never met a Ferengi that knew how to deal with a woman he didn't own outright. He blustered and moaned, poor dear, but then I started wearing the costume to the dart game. I wanted to embarrass him a little for the gravity cheating but it was so effective! Poor dear just couldn't keep a thought in his head. There for a bit I was honestly concerned he was going to choke on his tongue when he tried to talk. And then I made earrings in the engineering replicator. Completely impractical, and more than a little uncomfortable, but they made my ears look pointed so I looked even more like the main character from the novel." Miriam sighed then admitted, "He asked me to marry him the night before we docked. It would never have worked but its always flattering to be asked, don't you think? Were you going to throw the other two darts Anjala?".
  17. "Sounds almost like a genetic predisposition for intuition" Miriam offered while testing the balance of the darts by balancing each on the tip of her left fore finger one dart after another. "That doesn't seem that different from some others I've known. More natural talent but nothing too shocking. I can't really imagine what it would be like to grow up in a culture like Betazed." "Who is going first?" asked Miriam switching subjects abruptly.
  18. Miriam cocks her head while looking questioningly at J'Sira. "That was," she responds slowly, "a very detailed analysis. One might even characterize it as a deeply thought, highly analytical argument conclusively making a case for why games depending on deception or subterfuge are bad ideas for the present company. I think I might have gone with 'she'll beat the snot out of us' or something like that." Miriam smiles and adds. "But you do you." "Winner picks the next game?" Miriam suggests holding her hands out for a set of darts. "You better beat me if you don't want to play Kadis-Kot though."
  19. "Okay," Miriam said glancing back and forth between the two lieutenants, "we could switch to darts. I haven't played in forever. Not since I worked passage on a Ferengi freighter so its been awhile. I did okay even though the cargo master kept shifting deck micro gravity when we played for shares." Pursing her lips she shifted her gaze fully to J'Sira, having to crane her neck slightly due to the differences in their heights and continued, "I think you might be overthinking this though. You're assuming Anjala couldn't or wouldn't resist sensing our thoughts. Or at least can't help intuiting our cards and strategies. Right?" Miriam shifted her gaze to Anjala and asked bluntly, "Is that really a concern? Or is it something you do without conscious thought? If its the former then cards is just not a game you're going to enjoy. If its the latter then there are things we can do to even the odds. Without resorting to holodecks." Miriam paused waiting for the Betazoid officer to reply.
  20. Miriam Sepguta smiled, pleased J’Sira remembered her preference for using the title ‘doctor’ over her military rank. If she could get away with not even wearing her pips she would but that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, at the end of the day her orders read Lieutenant-Junior Grade, not doctor. That would become less important as her skill grew but Star Fleet being what it was, the rank would always be there. “Personally, I prefer the skill to make my own luck” she replied. “That said, the first thing you learn in residency is it’s better to be lucky than to be good. I hate that saying but I understand why doctors say it.” Glancing down at the cards in front of her she took a few seconds to think over her next step. A seven and Jack of Diamonds. Respectable but J’Sira had already beat her with the 19 she had showing. “Sometimes though,” Miriam said looking at Anjala and J'Sira in turn, “it doesn’t matter. You can’t win if you don’t risk losing.” “Hit me,” she ordered tapping the table next to her cards.
  21. Doctor Miriam Sepguta (LTJG) Age: 24 Species: Human (Female) Plant of Birth: Deep space en route Affrid Colony Current Assignment: Chief Surgeon, USS Destiny Personality: Soft spoken and reserved outside of sickbay, within her area of expertise she is a quiet force of nature. She takes the well being of those in her care seriously and makes her medical rounds with precision, dedication and seemingly boundless energy. She routinely engages her staff (and anyone else in sickbay) with hypothetical situations, seemingly as interested in how other's would respond as she is of determining their knowledge of medical protocol. Off duty she plays the wheel harp though she admits it's more a meditation prop than than a serious instrument. History: Born intelligent and curious at an isolated research colony, her parents learned early to stimulate her intellectually in positive ways or she would disassemble the replicator trying to figure out how it worked. By age 10 she was assisting the colony by maintaining equipment, by 14 she was assisting the colony doctor with his rounds as well as his equipment. By 16 she applied to the Academy via subspace with a recommendation from the colony doctor, making her way to Earth working passage on supply ships. She missed the first class up date but worked at Ceres station in the Sol asteroid belt servicing fabrication systems until she could reapply the following year. At the academy she was identified as a strong candidate for the medical track and was admitted. Career Events: Junior resident on an emergency medical crisis response team seemed an interesting assignment but Miriam learned first hand what it meant to be thrust into a leadership role in a plague zone ministering to the sick and dying. While she actively avoids talking about the event, it is how many in the medical field know her name. The Sepguta Decryption Algorithm is becoming the standard tool for decryption of the RNA sequence codes needed to deactivate the variants of Tallerian Plague. While there are thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of variants in existence it is now possible to actively treat the virus rather than the symptoms. Quote: "Of course its a virus but its an artificial one. Its a weapon. Designed from the ground up by someone with intelligence unfettered by ethics. It stymied doctors for decades because they looked at it and saw a disease instead of a weapon. As soon as I realized the pattern in the strand was non-random I thought 'What if they designed a key into the virus hidden behind an encryption?' It made sense they would want to maintain control of their weapon, especially one that is difficult to aim and has a hair trigger. At that point it was less a medical issue than an engineering one. The details are in the mission report."
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