Medical Check In

Posted on Sun Feb 26, 2017 @ 8:50am by Ensign Nawaji White Hawk & Lieutenant JG Mar Megara

Mission: An Orion to Die For
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: MD2 1115

Go here, talk to someone. Go there, get poked.

And eventually, Nawaji thought to herself, someone will actually give me some work to do. Until then...

Stepping into sickbay, Nawaji "buttonholed" the first person she ran into, a young man with the stripes of petty officer second class. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a Lieutenant Megara."

"It's Lieutenant Mar, actually," the medical technician corrected a bit stuffily. "She's part Bajoran. I think she's right over there," he added, indicating where the Bajoran/Klingon doctor clearly stood, studying a tricorder.

"My thanks both for your assistance and your acuity, Petty Officer," Nawaji replied dryly before making her way over to the medical officer. "Doctor Mar, I presume?" Ensign White Hawk. I have an appointment with you for my initial check-in."

Meg looked up and smiled brightly at the young woman before her. If she was sick of doing physicals, it wasn't White Hawk's fault. "Yes, it is nice to meet you," she said in her Spanish accent. "Jump right up here and we'll get started," she added, indicating the bio bed.

Nawaji plopped herself up on the biobed, scooting back a little bit to make herself comfortable. "The first few days on a newly commissioned starship must be like an old-style assembly line for you folks in sickbay," Nawaji noted. "Processing one crewperson after another."

Meg gave her a crooked grin as she opened her tricorder and started preliminary scans. "You have no idea," she replied. "How do you like it so far? The ship, I mean."

"The checking in and orientation has been noneventful," Nawaji answered. "And I've managed to find time to hang a couple of pictures on the bulkhead in my quarters. I am looking forward to doing a walkabout, though."

"Wait until you see the promenade level!" Meg told her enthusiastically. "It is fantastic! There are even tattoo parlors! I have never had a tattoo. Perhaps I should get one."

"Any idea what you would want? I'd like to get something Celtic, but nobody believes I'm Irish," Nawaji replied dryly.

"Nobody believes I am Spanish," Meg countered with a wink. "I was thinking perhaps something to honor my father. I do not know what the crest of the house of Zorr looks like, however. I could probably find out."

"I've never been to Spain myself," Nawaji remarked. "I had a roommate from the Academy, though, who always told me it was the best place she's ever been."

"I suppose I am technically Venezuelan," corrected Meg, switching over to secondary scans. "But close enough. I have, at least, been to Spain. Your friend is right; it is very lovely."

"Perhaps we might be distantly related then," Nawaji remarked, unconsciously straightening under the movement of the scan. "I have a distant cousin among the Pemon...my mother could tell you the connection, but I just know her as my cousin Antonia. Which is her Criollo name." Nawaji waved a hand with a laugh. "And that's a whole 'nother matter. Anyway, Antonia took me to see Parekupa-meru...Angel Falls," Nawaji translated. "That was beautiful."

"Angel Falls is lovely," Meg agreed. "But, though I am Venezuelan, I am not human at all. My mother and I moved there when I was four years old. So unless you have any Klingon or Bajoran blood, it is unlikely we are related," she added with a grin.

Nawaji tilted her head to one side and answered wryly, "Something about your appearance might have tipped my off about your Klingon ancestry. But no, if you haven't any human ancestry, you're probably right. Though you never know. I have a great, great something or other from Betazed who came for the fry bread and ended up marrying one of my ancestors. You probably saw on my medical records I even have an atrophied paracortex which, like my appendix, seems to just take up space, more than anything else."

"Mmm, fry bread," Meg commented with a grin. "It is like mana from heaven. And believe it or not, they have not been giving me anybody's files. Something about it being good practice to not have any sort of information on a patient. Apparently, that is something that happens a lot in triage."

Nawaji raised an eyebrow at that revelation, but said nothing. Nawaji merely hoped that would not be the standard operating procedure if a crewman were brought in unconscious. Instead, Nawaji asked Meg "So, from a cold read stance, how do I check out, Doctor?"

"You are in great condition for someone between the ages of 18 and 25," Meg replied, snapping her tricorder shut. "If you are any younger than that, we may have a problem, but I suspect, by your rank and appearance that it is fairly accurate."

"More or less," Nawaji answered, hopping off the biobed. "If there's nothing else then, doctor, I'll be on my way. Though if you want company if and when you get your tattoo, just let me know."

"I certainly will," replied Meg. "As soon as I figure out what my father's crest looks like."

Nawaji gave the other woman a quizzical tilt of the head but left it at that, exiting sickbay to take care of other items on her "to-do" list.