USS Alexander

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One Last Shot

Posted on 07 Mar 2020 @ 3:54pm by Commander Anson Corduke & Lieutenant Commander Hamish Pembroke (*)
Edited on on 07 Mar 2020 @ 5:34pm

Mission: Season 1 - Into the Deep
Location: Sick Bay - USS Theseus
Timeline: MD1 - 0131HRS
1540 words - 3.1 OF Standard Post Measure


Hamish wasn't going to take this lying down. He was running a state of the art medical facility, not a babysitting service. He couldn't find enough for twenty-three cadets to do that didn't get in the way of his every move. It simply wasn't possible; and with the Admiral firmly holding fast to the orders given by Starfleet he didn't have a whole lot of room to maneuver. He was getting desperate now. Desperate to have a normal, calm cruise without the maddening effects of 'well-meaning' cadets making his life miserable. That's why he was riding the turbolift of the USS Theseus bound for Sick Bay. He needed to convince the CMO, whoever he was, that taking a great big chunk of his twenty-three cadets was in his best interests. Maybe if he couldn't convince him on its merits alone, he could push his rank a bit and make the man cave. A ship like the Theseus wasn't going to have a huge medical team, especially being run by a man generally on the outs of Starfleet Command. So there was a good chance her CMO was only a few years out of residency themselves. Hamish liked his odds.

The lift drew to a shuddering stop and he quickly got out, looking back at the offending lift. Hopefully it was just a hiccup due to the new construction. The doors closed and it went on its way. He turned back down the corridor, looking for Sick Bay. He wasn't entirely sure where it was, other than on this deck as the computer had instructed, but strictly speaking it was easy to find on purpose. He just hadn't accounted for the continued construction throughout the deck, the dozens of engineers working on exposed panels and ceiling plates, giving the whole place a very industrial feel that didn't really match the simple aesthetic Starfleet generally exuded.

He made his way around the construction and found the double doors to sick bay about where he expected to, glad to see that this section of the deck was put together. Stepping through he found a much calmer space, though it was filled with staff. It appeared as if there'd been a recent shuttle arrival and as such the crew coming aboard was stopping in for their pre-duty check up. All the bio beds had an occupant and the medical staff was trying to make quick work of them while a half dozen others waited patiently at the fringes of the room by the door.

"Line's over there," An Ensign on Hamish's left waved, pointing to his right on the other side of the door.

Hamish looked at him with a look of arrogant disgust, and turned towards the CMO's office, stepping in to see that no one was there.

"We're all looking for the Chief. Got to get in line," the Ensign declared again a good bit louder. Hamish turned slowly around to face him. The Ensign stepped back to his spot on the wall quickly. "Sorry, sir," he added.

"Indeed," Hamish answered, now looking to the bio beds to see if whoever was in charge would deign to address him, or if he could spot the obvious leader. He was slowly assessing the group when the doors to Sick Bay opened again.

"Line's starting there," a voice declared, "Be with you in a bit," it said. Hamish didn't pay attention to them as he was still trying to spot the Chief. That was until someone clapped him hard on the shoulder, "Hammy, what's shakin?" Hamish turned to see Doctor Corduke beaming at him jovially as he always did. He waved into the office, "Come on, take a load off," he said, heading into his office.

Hamish followed, feeling the wind out of his sails. A Junior Grade, or even a fresh-faced Lieutenant he could have snowed into taking the cadets; convinced them of their need to speak to the next generation that wasn't so far from their own age. He could have even pushed his rank a touch. But with Corduke that would never happen, not only was the man immune to such obvious bullshit, he outranked him as well.

"I thought you ran Aceso, on Falkirk?" Hamish asked immediately he came in. Duke hit the terminal on his desk to close the door, gesturing to a chair as he took his own seat behind the desk.

Duke shrugged, "Wife and I decided it was better for the kids to have a life in the Fleet. See the stars, learn real-time," he explained, "Not strictly a science ship, but they still need science types and, let's be honest, skip like Callum, not a lot of CMO's lining up for the job," he chuckled.

"Right," Hamish nodded, defeated.

"So what's up Hammy? What brings you to my slice of crazy?" Duke asked, lounging in his chair.

"Cadets," he replied, holding up the data PaDD he'd brought with him. "Command's given me twenty-three bloody cadets. I came here to try a-."

"Convince some green-horn CMO to take 'em off your hands?" Duke cut in with a laugh, grinning infectiously as he always did. Hamish liked to compare him to a child, and would have, if the man wasn't so damned brilliant of a physician. As cardiologists went, he was one of the best. Something Hamish could relate to; it was just the personality that rubbed him. He certainly was the only sentient being he allowed to call him Hammy, only because he knew if he registered his distaste Duke would not only continue, but do it more frequently.

"Something like that," Pembroke answered icily.

Duke stared at him for a moment, as if judging how bad Pembroke wanted this, and then leaned forward. "I'll take some. But it'll cost you," he declared.

Pembroke perked up, "What do you require?" he asked, daring to hope that he could find his way out of this.

"Biomater resequencer, a Pakwa-scalpel and four bottles of Scotch. Real Scotch mind you, not that synth rotgut," Duke answered quickly, adding the last bit on for effect. Courtney hated his scotch habit, but put up with it because... well because at some point she had to let him be him. For his part he did his best not to get too far down the road on the drink, especially with the girls around.

"How many will you take for that?" Hamish asked, not keen to lose either of those bits of equipment. The resequencer would be the bigger blow, though he had to admit that Duke would get more use out of the device than he would. The scalpel though, that hit his pride hard. There were very few of that kind in circulation; something the pakwa-thanh's had kept to themselves despite their significant other additions to Federation medical sciences. Hamish had two, so he wouldn't be giving his only one away, but they both meant something to him. It was a big ask and Duke knew it.

"Get it all... and I'll take ten," he answered. "That's ten more than I can really handle, but for that equipment, I'll make due."

"Eight bottles of scotch, and the sequencer," Hamish countered, deciding he didn't want to lose the scalpel.

"No scalpel, no deal," Duke answered. He knew what it meant to the man, but taking on that many cadets was going to be a pain in his ever-loving ass. Especially if there were any of those cadets easy on the eyes; he was going to have a fiercely jealous wife complaining on the regular. The only way he was doing that was for a tool he had no chance of getting anywhere else.

Hamish leaned onto his thighs, staring at Corduke fiercely, but finally sighed and turned away. "Bloody, fine," he growled, "You have a label?" he asked, hoping it wasn't some obscure brand of scotch he was going to have trouble finding quickly.

"Nope," Duke shook his head, "Long as it's legit."

"Done," Hamish replied, "I'll have the cadets deliver it, along with the sequencer... and the scalpel."

Duke stood up and offered his hand over the top of his desk, "Deal," he said, waiting for Hamish to take it. Pembroke sighed in defeat, but stood up and sealed the deal with a shake. "I'd offer you a drink or lunch, but we're backed up here. So, unless you're wanting to run a few physicals yourself, I'll leave you to it," he smiled, gesturing to the sick bay.

"As it's not a requirement of the de-," Hamish started, only to be interrupted by the chirp of a commbadge.

Aker to Doctor Corduke. We have a medical emergency in Engineering, a woman's voice declared firmly.

Duke tapped his badge, "I'm on my way," he replied, moving swiftly out of his office and into the Sick Bay, grabbing one of the emergency field kits and tossing it at Pembroke who caught it awkwardly. "Come on, Hammy. Let's see what we got,"



Anson Corduke, MD
Chief Medical Officer
USS Theseus


Hamish Pembroke, MD
Chief Medical Officer
USS Alexander



 

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