Part of USS Olympic: Contrarian Nature

Open Arms at the Door – Pt. 1

Deep Space 17
August 2402
2 likes 302 views

It was a second chance, and a lot more than Arys deserved.

Had she been asked about future plans half a year ago, she’d never dared to assume she’d ever be given the chance to return to Starfleet, and to resume her medical career – and yet, here she was.

It wasn’t the prestigious posting of a large space station with a medical complex that rivaled a small village in size, but she was a medical officer again. One with an office, administrative tasks, and the chance to further prove herself.

“Headed to the Olympic?”, she asked the female officer who seemed to be heading to the same transporter room, now that shore leave was over. It was a guess – based on the teal uniform. But it was also a way to start a conversation, and actual smalltalk was something Arys still had to work on. So she might as well get started.

Her head pivoting in Arys’ direction, the other officer forthrightly replied, “Mostly correct, lieutenant.” Her voice was a little too loud for a casual corridor exchange. With her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her pointed ears indicated her Vulcan nature as much as her even tone of voice.

“The Olympic is my intended destination,” the Vulcan continued. Despite the certainty behind each of her words, her footing hesitated. She slowed to a stop in the middle of the wide corridor. “My heading is the transporter room. However, I question if my last turn was the appropriate one.”

“I… do hope it is.” Arys said after some thought, now somewhat insure herself. “At least that’s what I was told. In the worst case, I guess we’re lost together?”

She said it as if that would make it better – which it did. Kind of. Being late wasn’t a thing she usually did, but if they were indeed headed into the wrong direction, at least she wasn’t alone.

“I’m Arys. Trovek Arys, that is – one of the new medical officer.”

The other officer said, “It is most…” When the sentence trailed off, she inclined her head, and her hazel eyes glittered with consideration before she said, “Stimulating to meet you, Doctor Arys. There are worse things to be than lost, I have learned. Through error, I find continuity. Through continuity, I am T’Kaal. Starfleet Science has granted me a research project aboard Olympic.

“Pleasure.” Arys said, just about stopping herself from responding with ‘It is equally stimulating to meet you‘ instead.  “What kind of science do you do?”

“My training is multidisciplinary,” T’Kaal answered succinctly, perhaps without answering at all. As her gaze wandered from Arys, her gait shifted to match the current of officers heading along the corridor. Looking over again, she added, “Archaeological medicine is the focus of my new research project.”

Their heading, it turned out, was the correct one after all – indicated by the sea of teal uniformed individuals that were flooding into the same direction, specs of gold and red popping up so rarely that one could almost forget that even an Olympic needed more than scientist and medical officers to function.

“The Olympic seems to be ideal for that. Several research teams, interspecies and interdisciplinary from what I’ve read.” Arys commented. Of course, neither was impressive if you worded it like that, but she trusted that T’Kaal knew what she meant – research aboard the Olympic meant that species outside the Federation could work together on neutral ground, and focus on solutions rather than political implications.

“It is more than that,” T’Kaal said. She stopped again outside the double doors that led into the starbase’s large transporter centre. Impassive at the aperture.

In a hushed tone, T’Kaal conspiratorially shared, “The ecofacts we’ll be studying came from a failed archaeological excavation between the USS Sarek and the USS Olympic. It was even a joint mission with the Romulan Free State.”

Arys gave a well-practiced smile that pretended she knew what T’Kaal was referring to. She didn’t. And after a few seconds, she realized that she didn’t have to know.  “What happened between the Sarek and the Olympic?” she inquired quietly, matching the T’Kaal’s tone.

“Conflict,” T’Kaal remarked. “Significant damage and injury.”