“Actually, Commander Kennedy, could I get you to stay a moment longer?”

Nathan’s first full staff briefing with the Atlantis senior staff had been as dull, routine and benign as could be expected. He’d happily ceded control of the meeting over to the ship’s third officer, Gabrielle Camargo, letting the young woman keep the ball rolling as department heads reported that nothing had significantly changed with the ship in the last week or so.

The only real point of interest had been Doctor Terax saying he and Commander Velan had an update for the captain he’d share after the meeting. That update, only moments away with the meeting dismissed, now looked to include Nathan in it as well.

“Of course, Doctor,” he’d said, sitting back down and watching as everyone else filed out of the conference room in quick order. “Should I lock the door?” he asked once the doors slid shut.

Tikva snorted. “No, it’ll be fine. Besides, Stirling is guarding the door.” She reached out for her cup, inspected it, and sighed in defeat. “What is it, gentlemen?”

“Well, we’ve isolated the fault in your prosthetics,” Terax answered, his typical perpetual grumpy tone having vanished, which immediately got Tikva and Velan’s attention. “The fix we implemented yesterday isn’t going to hold regrettably.”

“Doctor, you’re starting to sound more glum and depressing than the Starfleet Medical doctors after they pulled me off the Jutland. And they had to tell me they had to amputate an arm and a leg.” The empty cup was set down on the table with a slight clatter as Tikva leaned forward, elbows on the table and her hands clasped. “Can you please stop sugar coating for me and tell me what is wrong with my leg?”

“It’s not the leg,” Velan answered. “Gérard spent ages going over the diagnostic logs. I’ve double checked his findings as well. There’s nothing wrong with the leg. What happened was a fault protection fired off and turned your leg off because of bad data coming over the interface.”

“Which is part of the leg prosthetic,” Tikva said, sounding unconvinced by Velan’s explanation.

“Yes, and no. It’s separate from the leg in that we could remove the prosthetic, but you’d still have the interface there. It’s grafted to your nerve endings after all.” Terax crossed his outer arms while his middle hand stroked his chin, considering his words. “And before you say it’s the interface; it’s not the interface either.”

“So…” Tikva dragged on, rolling a hand in the air to encourage her officers to continue. Demanding it even.

“It’s you,” Terax spat out. “Specifically, it’s your brain.”

“Don’t look at me,” Velan said quickly. “I just ruled out the mechanical and electronic. He’s the one with the medical diagnosis.”

“What are you saying, Doctor?” Nathan asked, turning to the Edosian.

“That ideally, Commander, Captain,” Terax said to Nathan and Tikva, “we need expert assistance to resolve this issue. Someone, or someones, who is specialised in the unique half-Betazoid neural anatomy as well as modern prosthetic interfaces. Now that we know what is going on, I’m happy to reset your leg, or arm if that should present similar issues, for now. But a long-term solution is currently beyond me. And I’m concerned that frequency would grow as time passes.”

Tikva sighed as she sat back. “And you’ve already got a list of premier medical facilities you’d like me to detour Atlantis to go and visit.” Not a question, but a statement, Nathan noted.

“Exactly two locations, and I’d prefer the former.” Terax waited a moment, drawing some inner strength for continuing. “Betazed or Earth.”

“Earth it is then.” Tikva’s decision was quick. “We were already heading back towards DS47. I’ll reach out and make arrangements for Mac to pick up our mission and get clearance for Atlantis to head to Earth.”

“You did hear what I said?” Terax asked.

“I did,” Tikva answered. “And I choose Earth.”

“Betazed is closer,” Nathan said, turning to Tikva and being greeted with a flat expression he couldn’t read. A mask hiding barely concealed distaste at the idea of going to Betazed. “And I’d dare say probably just as capable on this matter as Starfleet Medical back on Earth would be.”

“More so,” Terax added. “In fact, the interface for your prosthetics was designed on Betazed. Well, adapted for half-Betazoids to be precise. Doctor Meto, specifically. Infuriatingly pompous twit of a man, but he is the foremost specialist on the subject.”

“And this isn’t just something you could liaise with over subspace?” Tikva asked, sighing in defeat at Terax’s shaking head. “I don’t want to go to Betazed.”

“Well, the alternative is we just keep dealing with this problem until it becomes so bad I have to relieve you of your command since you’d be unfit to do it.” Terax’s grumpy, stubborn, sick-of-your-complaints tone returned in full force. A doctor with a bedside manner a Tellarite would be proud of.

“And now I know why I was asked to stay behind,” Nathan said with some mirth. “Doctor, you’d need something better than a bum prosthetic to remove the captain.”

“Neurological impairment resulting in loss of motor function,” Terax answered blandly. “It could be something neurological. It could just be a bad interface such that Ra and I can’t figure it out. Either way, the experts are on Betazed.”

Nathan shook his head, realising the trap that Terax had put him in. The patient with a reason not to go somewhere on one side and the doctor determined to send said patient there. He’d need to find the reason out for the captain’s hesitancy at some point, and soon, but Terax had looped him to be a ‘reasonable everyman’ to sway the captain.

Or at least it was the conclusion he was coming to. Words would need to be said to the doctor after this. A heads up would have been appreciated.

“I’m in no rush to sit in the centre seat,” Nathan eventually said after a tense few heartbeats. “But I’m kinda inclined to agree with the Doctor, Captain. If he does have to relieve you of command, Command isn’t going to look kindly on that. Besides, we run to Betazed, visit the right specialists, let the crew get some shore leave and then skedaddle before an army of Betazoid matriarchs start driving everyone batty. In and out, week at most.”

“Two weeks,” Terax corrected.

“Not helping yourself,” Velan muttered, drawing Terax’s ire and a faint smirk from Tikva, who blanked it away as quick as it came.

“Fine,” Tikva finally said with a shake of her head. “But if I hear one mention of the concept of light duties or taking it easy, I’m crying foul.” Her glare settled on Terax. “You coordinate everything with whoever you need to before we get there. I want to spend as little time around Betazed as I can.”

“In and out,” Nathan summed it up, smiling at Terax. “Right doc?”

“I make no promises,” Terax grumbled. “But I’ll do my best.”