You're Relieved (RP Log)
|02 Apr 2014|
- Duty Office - Station Infirmary [Deep Space 9]
- << Yellow Alert >>
- The spacious office combines both functionality and elegance. An oak desk bearing an engraved caduceus, the emblem of Starfleet Medical, holds the desktop terminal. Two chairs, adjustable according to the body-type parameters of a number of different species, sit before it. The walls are lined with plates containing texts handwritten in a variety of calligraphic styles, while a modest bookshelf contains a number of medical texts, historical works and works of literature in several languages: Betazoid, Rihannsu and Trill in addition to those in Vulcan and Alliance Standard. A coffee maker sits off to one side of the office in a small seating area containing a loveseat, a chair and a low table.
Viewscreen: ** Transfer successful. Signal standing by.
Viewscreen activates and displays Cockpit [USS Trinity NCC-92104].
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross is sitting at one of the consoles on a small ship. She smiles and says, "Hello Senka"
In uniform, Senka is clearly pouring over data. At his left hand is a full coffee mug displaying the emblem of USS Enterprise. "Lynn," he murmurs, looking up at the screen. Examining your surroundings, he asks, "You are not onboard station at present, I gather."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross shakes her head and says, "We are on our way to Betazed. Adam and I decided we needed a vacation."
Senka nods. "That may prove psychologically beneficial for you both. And you will have opportunity to sample utteberry wine as you indicated was your wish. My regards to the captain," he finishes.
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods and smiles, "I will certainly do that." She sighs heavily, "And now, I'm afraid that this is not a social call." She looks at the screen and says, "Lieutenant Senka, I received a message from Admiral Xanathos earlier."
Senka steeples his fingers. "Please proceed, Admiral," he murmurs.
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross looks at her PADD, "He informed me of the transfer of Admiral Seryl to Spacedock. He stated that the unstable nature of the Bajoran Space and Deep Space Nine was the reason, and I agree with him. All records and orders of this have been classified to Commodore level and above."
Senka nods. "Acknowledged," he replies.
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross looks up and says, "He has also formally requested that all aspects of the care of the Admiral be transfered to me. And he has requested that you be removed from any and all portions of her care and all records of her treatment and samples be removed from Deep Space Nine." You would be able to tell just from the look on her face she is not liking this but can't do anything about it. "Lieutenant, I need everything sent to my office on Spacedock as soon as possible as well as any treatment plans, observations and research that you deem pertinent to this case."
Because you know him so well, better than anyone now living, you can perceive the tightening of the muscles around his mouth and the fractional narrowing of his eyes. If you are able to sense his thoughts or emotions through the commlink, you would sense dismay, surprise, and a sense of deep loss. He has never been removed from a case, though two senior-ranking human officers have contemplated it recently. However, he starts his reply as a Vulcan and an officer should. "Very well, Admiral. I will comply immediately."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods, "Thank you Lieutenant. I appreciate you taking care of this as soon as possible. I will have my office confirm receipt of everything."
"I would like to pose a couple of questions regarding this matter, Admiral." The admiral doesn't come out naturally, but out it comes.
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods, "I will answer what I can."
Senka nods. "Does Admiral Xanathos desire my total removal from the case to any extent because he questions my competence as a medical officer in this matter?"
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross shrugs, "I can't answer that. I only have the message that he sent to me."
Senka nods. "You have, I believe, been privy to all of my reports in this case. As the commandant of the medical corps and my most senior division superior officer, do you accept that I have performed my duties adequately in this matter?" You sense that right now at this moment, this question has far more meaning to him personally than anything else he's asked you, though the wording stays formal and his face inscrutable. It's not a social call, after all.
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods, "Yes. I have found your performance in this matter beyond adequate. Once I return I will speak with you further on this. I would still appreciate your input and thoughts in this matter."
"Then I will provide them." He gazes at you and gives, a little. "I have practiced medicine for 18.226 years both in Fleet and out, Doctor. I have never once been relieved of my duties either generally or with respect to a particular patient. I am ... disturbed professionally and as a Vulcan who attempts in all things to display the highest possible degree of competency that it has been contemplated twice and now done once."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross sighs, "I know. Let me talk to the Admiral and find out why he wants you off the case. I don't like that he has requested this and I will do whatever I can to see that you remain. It may not be as lead, but I will propose that you work with me on this. Otherwise there isn't much more I can do Sen."
"That," he murmurs, "is a partial answer to my final question, which is procedural as I do not know the intricacies of the admiralty. I understand that you and Admiral Xanathos are colleagues, fellow division chiefs. However, this is a medical matter and seemingly under your command. If you decided for logical reasons that I should still consult in this matter, would your decision not be paramount?" He adds, "of course, I will abide by any decisions you make or orders you issue."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods, "You are correct, the decision is mine, but as he is not only an Admiral but her husband and the one that determines her care while she is incapacitated, I have to abide by what he says. You wouldn't want me going against the wishes of the family would you?" It hurts him to say what he has to say both as a professional and as someone who's given over half a year's tireless work not to mention caring to the wise old Trill, but he says it. "Logically, unless you have demonstrable reason to do otherwise, medical ethics dictate that the family's wishes in the person of the next of kin are to be respected in regards to the care of an incapacitated patient. You are correct."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross sighs as she drops the Admiral persona for a minute, "Sen, I'm sorry that I had to do this." She closes her eyes and shakes her head, "When I got the transmissions I was almost sick. You know I hate having to do this."
Looking into your eyes across the light years, Senka nods and follows suit. "You are, at least, not in the position of having to reprimand me or of having to issue orders for an investigation into my medical conduct vis-a-vis Moriah. That would be qualitatively worse, would it not, Lynn?"
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods, "Far far worse. Between you and me Sen, if he doesn't agree to your helping me I will still ask for your input and assistance."
"And you shall never fail to have it," Senka promises. Reaching into his bag, he pulls a stuffed plush spotted owl out and into view. "Among my other purchases, I acquired this object because it symbolizes great wisdom in the folklore of Earth with which Moriah is familiar. It was my desire, an illogical one perhaps, to gift this to her upon her recovery."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross smiles as she looks at the owl, "You can send that to my office and I'll make sure she gets it, or you keep it with you and give it to her when she recovers."
Senka says, "I believe I will keep it. It is my hope that upon her recovery and learning of these events, she will choose to come to this station and speak with me. Again, not entirely logical, but she has called me a friend, so I shall attempt to deliver it myself.""
You put Spotted Owl Plush in Duffel Bag (72965).
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross smiles, "She would like that very much my friend."
Senka adds, "I would like to make a final observation in this matter, and you may keep it off the record as you deem fit."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross nods, "Of course. Please proceed"
Senka meets your gaze unflinchingly. "I believe that Admiral Xanathos, whatever his personal motives, possibly even because of them, has acted in this matter with unprofessionalism and undue prejudice. He has used his authority and position to do things that he would not do for anyone else in the service, even yourself or another Starfleet division chief in my opinion. In the process, he has abandoned all considerations of professional decorum and, with this order for my relief, seems to call my own competence into question. A message in writing to me, or a consultation in my office before affecting this transfer would have cost him nothing and left me informed, and as a CMO, I believe that I have a right to expect a certain degree of notice, even if a fractional one, before losing my patient." A beat. "If there is no such courtesy that I should expect, please tell me. ... Some customs and courtesies of the service are foreign to me, but I have learned many customs in my attempt to become a model officer, even customs that seem to lack in logic. And yet it seems that senior ranking officers disregard those customs and courtesies at will." A beat. "With two exceptions I am aware of, both recent patients," he adds, his tone softening a bit.
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross says, "I don't know what to tell you Sen. Let me talk to the Admiral, find out what I can and I will let you know. I wish I hadn't had to do this. This is the one part of my job that I do not like. But I will try to talk to him soon and I will let you know what he said and I will certainly talk to you when I get back to the station, after going to Spacedock of course.""
Senka nods. "I have no grave concerns over Moriah's care, because you will see that she is offered the best care available. It is who you are."
Viewscreen: Astor-Cross smiles for the first time, "I will see you when I get back." She reaches for the button to disconnect, "Bye Sen"
Senka offers you a silent Vulcan salute and closes the channel.
Viewscreen blinks and Cockpit [USS Trinity NCC-92104] disappears.
Pulling an ancient-looking volume written in blocky Trill script from a shelf, the Vulcan considers the book. It was a gift from Seryl, a 630-year-old first edition treatise on astrophysics written by the first Seryl host, Jezzer Seryl. Turning the pages over to the book's fourth and final section, the Vulcan begins to read in the quiet of his office.