To celebrate his new promotion, Shahr decided to workout. Ok, maybe celebrate wasn’t entirely accurate. He was feeling chipper about the new pip on his collar, and while inspecting his own reflection in the bathroom, Shahr decided a fresh LTJG should be in better shape than he currently was. It didn’t matter that Shahr actually was quite toned already. It was a well-known fact that the probability of finding something one dislikes about one’s appearance is directly proportional to the amount of time spent in front of a mirror.

“Hmmm” Shahr pondered aloud, to his attentive but silent sink. “I wonder if that’s worth a research paper?”

That idea was quickly discarded, as psychology was pretty far outside his wheelhouse of photonics theory. Still, there was exercise to be had. With a quick change into his gym clothes, Shahr headed to the holodeck.

Not half an hour later, Shahr exited the holodeck, clutching his left side and wheezing. “Ok,” he thought to himself. “Maybe cranking up the difficulty one more time – eight times in a row – was a bad idea.” He had been wrestling, sparring with a holographic opponent of his own design. He’d written a program containing a variety of unusual alien opponents. Each opponent had a unique advantage, such as a third (or fourth) arm, or telepathy, or eyes on the back of its head. Shahr was (rightfully) confident in his combat capabilities against most humanoid species he might encounter, but who knows what else is out there? “Expect the unexpected,” said every instructor he’d ever had. So, he tried. And what did he get for his troubles? Maybe a fractured rib?

Hobbling down the corridor, Shahr made his way to sickbay. The door slid open, invitingly. If the door was irritated he took so long to pass through, it made no mention of it. Glancing around, Shahr spotted a Lieutenant Commander he didn’t recognize.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Respectfully request some assistance, unless you are busy.”

Selara turned to the sound of Shahr’s voice. “I’m never too busy for a patient,” she replied with a smile. She was taken aback by his disheveled appearance. “Especially you Security/Tactical types. I swear you invent new ways to harm yourselves.” She chuckled, picking up a PADD and tricorder. “I’m not yet familiar with everyone here. What’s your name?”

Shahr smiled at being mistaken for a ‘security type.’ Grinning, he replied “Lieutenant JG Shahr Th’tholler, ma’am. I prefer to go by Shahr, if you don’t mind.” He watched as the doctor waved the tricorder around his torso. “Oh, and I’m actually in the science department; photonics theory. I just apparently don’t know my own physical limits.”

Selara pulled up Shahr’s file, “Photonics…,” she read. “Have a seat, Lieutenant.” She motioned to the nearby biobed.

Grimacing, Shahr shuffled over to the bed and gingerly laid out on it.

“You’re in a relatively stable environment. Let me guess: An experiment went awry?” She chuckled and scanned his side with a probe, watching the tricorder in her other hand.

“Oh! Well that would certainly be more excitement than my usual experiments. No, I am a bit ashamed to admit I was just pushing myself too hard in a training sim on the holodeck.” Shahr cast his eyes down, not wanting to meet the doctor’s gaze at the moment. “I wrote a program to fight unusual opponents, and I may have been overeager in cranking up the difficulty.”

“Well that, Mr… Shahr,” Selara corrected herself. “Is the reason they suggest consulting a physician before participating in a strenuous exercise program.” She said while consulting her PADD. “I probably would’ve told you what a foolish idea it was.” She chuckled and looked to him, “professionally speaking.”

“What’s the damage, doc? Confined to a wheelchair for life?” Shahr wasn’t sure where all his quips were coming from lately. It wasn’t something he’d ever done in his life on Andor. Must be the two jokester petty officers in the lab he thought to himself. No, he argued internally. This has been developing for a while.

Selara chuckled, “Not for life, but I do think some Borg nanites might be in order…” She gave a look of consideration. “I’ll have to reach out to some colleagues in Starfleet Medical.”

Now Shahr did meet the doctor’s gaze. He gulped. “Uh, well… surely there are alternative treatments? The wheelchair might be preferable!”

Selara laughed at Shahr’s response, “I’m kidding, of course.” She took a PADD and handed it to Shahr. “You bruised your ribs, quite severely.” She took on a more serious tone. “If you had gone much further, you would have certainly fractured them.” Selara typed commands into her PADD. “I’m sending you an exercise routine that would be more appropriate, complete with advancement steps. After, of course, your 2-weeks of mandatory light duty. And come back for evaluation and we’ll go from there.” She shut down his biometric data from the display and PADD. “I would also recommend some anti-inflammatory gel and deep breathing exercises. All of that should be on there,” she motioned toward the given PADD.

Shahr glumly accepted the PADD. 2 weeks?! That seemed excessive. Shahr would know; he suffered from the same condition that many people with advanced degrees shared: the misbegotten belief that they also had medical degrees. Still, better to keep this particular opinion to himself. “I will replicate some gel.” Shahr glanced up at the doc again. Not seeing any signs of humor anymore, he quickly added “and of course, rest up while I heal. Thank you ma’am.”

With PADD in hand, Shahr shuffled his way out of Sick Bay and started the slow journey back to his quarters. Was it too late to find some of those Borg nanites?