USS Potemkin NCC-76927-C
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Posted on Mon Jan 3rd, 2022 @ 7:42pm by Doctor Teagan Ceja

608 words; about a 3 minute read

“Got a moment?”

Teagan Ceja looked up from the report she was reading, and smiled at Dr. Nasir. He was leaning against the doorjamb of the Medical Office in sickbay. A pose she had, herself, often used when talking to Dr. Arnet over the years.

“Sure,” she replied, waving a hand at one of the chairs in the space. “Get comfy. Computer, privacy screen around my location.”

He sighed softly as he sat, and stretched. Her lips twitched. Stretching wasn’t necessary for Nasir, it felt like an odd move, and one that showed just how uncomfortable he was.

“And?” She prompted after a few moments. “What enlightenment do you bring this day?”

“Duffy and I need a favour,” he began, then paused to stare at the wall for a long moment.

“Alright. Whatever you need,” she replied. “Is it to do with why you asked me to come and review the medical logs?”

Nasir nodded, took one of those deep breaths that signals a bit of a speech, and then let it go. He lifted his hands, turning both of them over and spreading his fingers wide. “Tahlmorra lujhala mei wiccan, cheysu,” he said. “My obligations begin again, and I find myself at a place where I need more time from the ship than my position allows.”

Teagan frowned, puzzled. “You have ample leave accrued.”

“As Chief Medical Officer, I am bound to this ship in a way that does not allow me to leave when Duffy and I are needed. I intend to step down. Return to a lesser position. One that does not hold the souls of an entire ship in the hands.” He waved a hand, “I’ve already informed Starfleet. They asked me to find my replacement.”

“I see,” she replied. “And have you found someone suitable in the available doctors?”

“Not one that is what is needed on this ship, in particular. And not a single one I can trust with the secrets that must be kept. Well, that’s not entirely true. There is one. Just… one. Currently assigned to another duty, but not a duty that cannot be combined with running the department.”

Teagan leaned over and picked up a small rock from the desk. She turned it over, watching the glint of quartz in the deep grey granite. “I remember where this came from,” she said. “I remember a lot of things that not everyone does.” She shook her head, and replaced the rock. “I think I can guess who your first choice is for the position.”

“Teagan, I am sorry. There is nobody else. You have to take the department back. You know everyone, you know that which must remain secret, and you know the challenges of this ship over any other. I informed Starfleet that you were the logical choice, especially with Cassandra returning to the ship.”

“She isn’t our Cassandra,” Teagan replied, sourly. “She’s the new timeline Cassandra. But qualified enough. Mostly.”

“You know I’m right.”

"I do. It doesn't mean that I can't be a bit grumpy about it though."

“They agreed Teagan. You’re being redeployed back to Chief Medical Officer, and Chief Counsellor of the USS Potemkin. Effective…” he paused to check a chronometer.

“Ku’reshtin,” she replied, mildly. “Y’ja’hai. Tahlmorra indeed.”

There was a chime from the desk, and they both reached to tap the spot on the desk that would bring up the incoming communication.

“Immediately,” he said as the orders began to scroll. And held up his hand, fingers spread wide.

A moment later, she echoed the gesture. “Tahlmorra lujhala mei wiccan, cheysu,” she agreed.


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