The Doctor is In
Et Tu, Brute?
Location: Captains Office
Getting out of the the turbolift, Sam walked down the corridor towards the Conference room. Stopping at a corner of the passgeway, and watching a group of ten young Ensigns talking. Listening to their conversation, and watching their body language, she could see they were all apprehensive about something, and from their conversation she could see that they were scared, about the Kasheetans on board the ship
Some were jumpy and would look around; whenever someone made a joke about the Kashetans. One young Ensign on her first deep space voyage almost broke down crying, and unable to hold her feelings; ran towards one of the open turbolifts; after one of the new male Ensigns made an innocent joke about her having sex with a Kasheetan.
Seeing enough, Sam went up to the group, and after singling out the young Ensign, who now was expecting to be keel-hauled, or screamed at, Sam said in a soft but firm voice; "Ensign, what is your name?"
Surprised that Sam was not screaming at him, the Ensign said; "Ma'am, my name is Ensign Pulver". Well Ensign Pulver, I am Doc Shinawatara, the shps CMO, and "I think you should be ashamed of your behavior, towards the female Ensign". "Now I take it the both of you are brand new to the ship, and this is your first Space Voyage?" Yes Ma'am we both are replied Ensign Pulver.
Well a word of advice Ensign Pulver, if you plan on making Starfleet a career, and plan on having people back you up, then you should learn how calm someone down, and understand their fears. Not make stupid sexist jokes at someones expense. Remember whatever you do or say here can sometimes go against you. "Carry on Ensign' as Sam left the group.
CAPTAINS TEMPORARY OFFICE
Going up to the door, Sam hoped that Ro would be back in the room working on her stacks of papers, and sighing she knocked on the door, and waited..
"Come on in! Mind the mess!" Ro called out. She'd just finished signing off on a number of documents that were quickly being whisked away be a young yeoman. "Afternoon Doc. What's up?"
Talk about messes as Sam walked in; the place looked like it had been gone through by the “Mongol Horde”, or maybe a demented five year old on a Temper tantrum jag”…. Smiling to herself, Sam said…
"Ro, I see you're very busy, with the current mission of escorting the ilving Cuisinart to their home planet, replied Sam laughingly..
I shouldn't come barging in on you as you're trying to get this mission done, but a certain issue has come up, and as the Ships CMO, and Chief Counselor, I think that we do need to talk about our passengers.
The commander' eyebrows raised slightly. "Oooookaaayy.. You've got my ears, doc. Shoot."
Finding that the captain now had her attention, Sam went up to the small communication panel; talked to the head of the Officers mess, and ordered a carafe of hot coffee, and a platter of small finger foods, then said to Ro
"Before we get down to business. I find that having something in the stomach helps in formulating an idea; “don’t you think”? Now sitting down in the messy conference room that was now the Captains domain, with the order of food and coffee now having been delivered.
Sam looked at Ro and said after swallowing a small cookie, said in a soft soothing voice; "Since we now have the Kashetans on board, what safeguards do we have to ensure that the Kasheetans don't think that the humans on board are their own smorgasbord of food? Secondly, if any, what will be your response in case things go south? And if we need to prevent the extermination of the entire ships crew, will you use lethal force to do?"
"And third just what do you have on board the ship for their dietary needs," replied Sam.
"Whoa- hold up a sec on the questions and let me get a word in edgewise." Ro began once Sam had made herself comfortable and started snacking. She took a cookie to be polite and nibbled at it, though that was about it. The only time she truly ate junk food was when there was drinking or sulking to do. "Okay, point one: the kasheeta are a Federation Race at this point. They know that we aren't food or hostiles to be deemed as food once expired. I've had encounters with them before and though they can be hello cranky and cause a great deal of accidental incidents, they're over all not a threat on that level. The group that we have with us especially are ambassadors. They've had a lot of exposure to other races and know at least in passing how to deal with us. And insult us. And compete with us. If they did decide to snack on my crew I'd have them rung in with force fields and stunned to a gibbering mass then dropped in our largest cargo hold while we cart them off to the nearest outpost for trial. I think that answers two of your questions."
"Lethal force? That's a big one. And not one that I can answer without an appropriate situation to apply it to. As a rule, I can tell you that I'm not a fan of the big push to violence. When I do it's because the other options are exhausted and even then lethal force is applied when there is no other choice. There's almost always another choice." Sipping at her coffee, the redhead leaned back in her chair and looked over the doctor with an appraising eye. "I know that there's a dichotomy that haunts many Starfleet officers. Are they explorers or military? Do they seek knowledge or protect their own. It's difficult when the hierarchy can't even make up its mind what we are amongst themselves. I started in security and worked my way to command. I can and will defend the ship. But my goal, my mind will always start off with the notion that we are explorers first."
"That sounds fair" replied Sam; "but you still haven't told me what are we feeding the Beasties, as one Scotsman that I knew years ago would have called our friends...."
"I'm kind of concerned about their dietary requirements since whatever the eat is under the CMO's jurisdiction, and if they have a problem digesting whatever we have in the freezers, then I may have something up my sleeve; kind of an old country doctors concoction that is bound to cure most ills, it this one doesn't contain alcohol in it."
"I know I didn't reply to the third question. Let your hair down a little, doc. Breathe between sentences. I left what I said open to discussion in case you didn't agree or had a point to bring up that I hadn't thought of. That way we're working as a team instead of just me telling you this and you telling me that. It doesn't work unless there's no room for learning. Now," the redhead said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "When we took on the mission and started going over the details, we brought on foodstuffs for the kasheeta. Their documents said that they were strictly carnivorous and that bone, offal and such is typical in their diet and that food shouldn't be cooked in beyond a swift char. Explicit directions were sent to the galley including quite a few crates of fresh meat. The type escapes my mind at this moment. I think it was a mix of emu and something or rather."
"What they drank was a little more broad according to cultural reports. Fermented beverages, teas, wines, waters, various herbal draughts. There's a smaller sampling of that based on the fact that I'm not looking to liquor up anything with teeth bigger than my palm as a general rule." She gave the doctor a lopsided grin that was patently O'Touvelli. "I do my homework, doc. I don't know everything, but I darn well read up on it when I can. You can trust me."
Suddenly Sam began to giggle, and laugh at what Ro had said, and from looking at Ro, she thought she better explain the sudden giddiness, before she has her new CMO locked up under a 72 hour psychiatric hold.
"Ro I’m sorry if my outburst was uncalled for, but I thought I’ve heard everything especially if the information came from Starfleet, and especially within the Diplomatic corp. Forget what some hair brained junior diplomat or a bumpkin of an Ensign; who’s looking to make a name for themselves. And most importantly of all you can also forget what the directive from the Kasheetan homeworld on their dietary retirements are," replied Sam.
"I know that what you have aboard the Kingdom is offal, bones, and whatever; but the Kasheetans are carnivorous and carrion eaters," replied Sam.
“One reason is that the Kasheetans will never reveal to someone who is not a Kasheetan is their true dietary requirements, is because replied Sam “How they eat, and how they do it will revolt us to our most basic core. So what they told Starfleet Command and Starfleet medical is the bare minimum dietary requirements.
"On the outside they’ll look fine, and act perfect; but on the inside, they’re keeping their innermost feelings bottled up which if not sated, will result in a big problem. So what happens to the Kasheetans" replied Sam; "is that away from prying eyes is that they will go into a massive feeding frenzy, fighting among themselves; and eating anything and everything that can’t fight. Onc finished with their feeding frenzy; they go into a state of hibernation for as long as it takes to digest whatever they ate.
Waiting for Ro to make a comment, Sam just studied her face watching for any signs that this registered in her mind.
Finally, Sam said;
“Ro, tell me this; how is their meals served to them, and are the meals hot or warm; cold, or at room temperature, asked Sam.
The commander just stared at the doctor or several long moments, her arms still crossed over her chest. When she finally did speak, it was without some of the easiness that was there earlier. "Before you act on some of this, doc, the liaise to the Kasheeta- who has been working with them for the last several weeks since the end of their trip to California- also a Diplomatic Corps member- is escorting them home with us. If any of the information delivered to me was faulty, I'm sure that she would have said something, being as we're hosting a public dinner tonight with the kasheeta just after launch. I'd appreciate it if you hash out your concerns with Miss Crispin and our lead chef Mr. Barrow before the dinner at 2000 hrs."
"GOOD GOD, we have a dinner tonight", and I haven't have a thing to wear. "I won't act on anything unless you order it, but I would like to talk to Miss Crispin and Chief Barrow before the dinner. Now with the official part over, replied Sam..
What is the dress code for tonight? Are the female officers allowed to wear civilian or Starfleet dress uniforms, asked Sam...
"It's fairly casual," answered Ro, who still hadn't figured out what she'd be pulling out, either. She had a tendency to over dress for no reason, but the crew was too new to understand that she was an eccentric old bird just yet. "No tee-shirts and bunny slippers, but a nice dress or slacks are fine. I haven't had a chance to meet up with most of our new senior staff as of yet since the computer glitches have made the crew a veritable revolving door, so the dinner is a double duty meet and greet."
"Okay sounds fine replied Sam; but for now just where do I find Ms Crispin. I know that Chief Barrow will be hard at work in the Galley to make sure your dinner party goes off without a problem. But right now, I'll hold my comments, and if you don't mind; I'd like to float around the party gauging the officers mood. AND, I promise not to screw up your party. Now if you'll excuse me Ro, I do have a lot to do, and since its now 1630 hours, I have a few things to do before the party." Then Sam left Ro.
Ro watched the doctor blow out of the room like her own personal hurricane: all energy and intensity spinning around. She sighed, leaned back in her chair and recited her personal mantra a few times until she retained her calm again. It was certainly going to be an interesting night.