SD 960816.03 Log - Dr Alexander D. Graves

[Toby L]

"Urgh, you've got to be kidding me..." Alexander held his head as he stumbled through the dimly lit corridors between haphazardly assembled buildings. He had heard of the damage from the recent earthquake, and was secretly disappointed that this region seemed generally untouched. Had fortunes favoured him, he would have an easier time finding his way to the Starfleet compound, he figured, if this makeshift slum was flattened.

A tin mug was extended towards him, the sound of its contents rattling against the sides drilled into Alexander's skull. "Spare any coin?" An unwashed, ageing settler seemed to provoke Alexander's tender state.

"How about some Federation credits?" Alexander held his palm against his brow. The beggar seemed to spit in disdain towards him, and returned to his crouched position. Alexander hadn't intended to donate, but had rather hoped for a means to exchange his currency. The fact that credits weren't even of use to the poorest in this society provided little encouragement. If he ever got off this dilapidated rock, Alexander made a mental note to write a stern note to the Federation's economic bureaucracy on the subject of his recent experiences.

"I don't suppose you know where the... urgh, nevermind..." Alexander gave up and continued his walk. He'd rather stumble about aimlessly then spend another moment in this run-down collection of vagrants. As the path continued to wind through the squalor, Alexander heard a curious noise up ahead.

"Get off me! Let go!" A faint, muffled voice seemed to call out to him. Alexander increased his momentum and followed the cries with a concerned frown across his face. Usually, he wouldn't have been nearly as brave as to actively search for trouble, but he felt half-concussed and hoped some heroics might curry favour with the locals. As he grew closer to the commotion, he slowed his pace and carefully pried a glance from around the corner.

"Keep shouting, and I'll rip out your throat!" He saw two shadowy figures in mid-struggle, one obviously attempting to restrain the other. Unfortunately for his bravado, the antagonist in this dispute looked much larger than Alexander had desired.

"There's probably two sides to this story. I'm sure they'll work it out..." Alexander muttered quietly to himself in an attempt to justify his cowardice. He returned to his concealed post, and checked his surroundings to try and find another route to the facility. Much to his annoyance, this violent dispute had positioned itself on the only path he vaguely knew, but he'd rather be lost than buried in a shallow grave. As he staggered to his feet, he heard a cry that he was unable to ignore.

"Please, somebody, help me!" The unmistakable plea escaped from the scuffle. It was from a humanoid female. A potentially attractive humanoid female, Alexander privately noted. He had to do something. Suddenly, his bravado was replaced with something much less honourable.

"Unhand her, creature!" Alexander pounced from his cover of shadows and pointed defiantly at the imposing creature. It's rough, dark skin was littered with scales, like some sort of Gorn. It had been some time since Alexander had bothered recalling his xenobiology studies. He quickly realised the folly of his lovelorn chivalry.

The creature dropped the woman to the ground and lumbered towards Alexander, its teeth glistening in the faint light. "I'm going to break you in half, human." The gravely threat shot from the creature's throat. Eight years of medical school was enough to teach Alexander that being broken in half wasn't at all desirable.

In a panic, Alexander grasped a discarded steel pipe nearby, and steadied himself in preparation for a fight. As with any near-death experience, the mind searches desperately for any knowledge or experiences that may help the body defend against immediate danger. Alexander's mind returned him to a time on the USS Cerberus, and he recalled standing before the former Chief of Security, Tuval.
"No, absolutely not!" Alexander had scoffed many years ago, "I'm a surgeon, not a soldier! It's your job to defend me! I'm not about to waste my afternoon watching you wrestle with a hologram, particularly when I'm knee-deep in lab work!" The Chief had attempted to protest and remind Alexander about the importance of hand-to-hand combat training, but Alexander had dismissively announced his intention to use one of the hundreds of personal phasers the Cerberus had been issued with, should trouble arise. In the present day, Alexander silently cursed Tuval for failing to adequately prepare him for a moment such as this.

He knew a physical confrontation with this beast would never succeed, so in his panic, Alexander decided to fall back on the only skill he had that was actually weaker than his combat ability - his diplomatic tact.

"Okay, listen, I'll make you a deal..." Alexander started to propose before he was suddenly consumed by darkness and silence.

It was after what seemed like both an instant and an eternity of emptiness, a dim light and a distant voice entered his consciousness. "... not to move. Can you open your eyes?"

Alexander blinked slowly, feeling considerably worse than when he had left the bar. "What... where did the... lizard man...?" he struggled to complete his sentence as he began to regain control over his faculties. He eventually focused enough to see the object of his brazen rescue crouching above him.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, "I was worried you were gone for a moment there. You took quite a hit to your skull, they've killed others for much less." She helped Alexander sit up against the wall, and held a cloth against the wound on his head.

"They?" Alexander managed a few muffled coughs, "What happened?"

"Thank you for distracting him," The woman continued to nurse the wound, checking over her shoulders with a cautious glare, "I was able retrieve my phaser and scare him off. He'll be back though, no doubt with friends, so we better keep moving."

"What do you mean by 'we'?" Alexander brushed her hand aside with a frustrated frown, "Now, what the Hell is going on here? Why was that thing trying to restrain you?"

The woman sat back, visibly confused by Alexander's question. "He was one of Starfleet's goons. I thought you knew that, otherwise why did you get involved?"

Alexander groaned, slowly dragging himself to his feet and concocting a more legitimate reason for his intervention than simply his lustful desires. "I don't know, you looked like you were in trouble? I'm a surgeon, Hippocratic Oath or whatever," He wasn't sure if the Hippocratic Oath made any mention to helping those in distress, but it did receive quite a few mentions in the various complaints against Alexander's conduct. He figured it to be some sort of bleeding heart diatribe, so he was certain it provided a worthy excuse, "I've never known Starfleet to hire goons, at least ones that aren't in uniform. How did you end up on their bad side?"

"All of us have become enemies to Starfleet, simply by our presence here." She offered Alexander a shoulder as the pair began limping away from the darkened courtyard, "This was once a barren world, created by the Federation as a research outpost. It's barely habitable, but for many of the settlers here, it's the only home we have left. We were forced to leave our colonies while the Federation's borders continued to change with many wars, treaties and compromises. Some of my fellow colonists were able to leave for more fertile sectors, but the rest of us haven't the means to relocate."

"You were displaced? And you had no choice but to come here?" Alexander did his best to understand the full story - his head injury provided ample distraction.

The woman nodded, "Now we are trapped on this inhospitable ice world, and even here Starfleet does not accept us. They limit our ability to build shelters, deny us access to information and computers, place heavy restrictions on our use of replicators. Many of the people you see around you are on the cusp of survival, and yet the 'noble' Federation turns a blind eye."

Alexander had seen more of this slum than he would've liked throughout his evening adventure, but where he had previously been indifferent and insensitive, he couldn't help but feel ashamed to think that the organisation to which he had once dedicated his life was responsible for such despair.

"Any attempt to organise and oppose their tyranny is met with brutality from their hired militia, like the one who gave you that wound. I, myself, am no friend to the Federation, but I fear for all the settlers on this planet if we can not improve the situation." The woman continued, "The more Starfleet soldiers that arrive, the worse it seems to get. And with the geological disturbances occurring lately, more and more are arriving everyday. We are so desperate for any help, but I am not sure to where we can turn..."

There was that 'we' again. Alexander had eventually grasped the situation, and wore a mixture of concern and intrigue across his bloodied face. "You're part of some sort of organisation opposing Starfleet's presence here, I take it?"

"Yes," The woman replied firmly, "We call ourselves 'The Community'. There aren't many of us left, but those of us who continue to fight Starfleet's oppression will do so for as long as we survive."

The pair approached a door, and the woman released Alexander to steady himself against the wall. "This is something of a safehouse. It's not much, but it's somewhere you can rest and recover away from Starfleet's hired muscle." Alexander offered a pained groan in gratitude.

For a brief moment, there was only the quiet of the still night air. Both Alexander and the woman stood facing each other, and neither was sure if anything needed to be said. Alexander was irreconcilably conflicted, unable to ignore what he had just learnt. He rose to his feet and took a step towards the door.

"We could use a doctor, you know." The woman broke through the silence with this blunt implication, studying Alexander's reaction. The was an awkward pause.

"Surgeon." Alexander corrected with a soft and sober tone, and for the first time in months he spoke with a degree of respect. The gravity of the situation deserved nothing less. "Doctors make patients feel better, surgeons actually make them better."

"I know you've already done more for me tonight than I should ever expect, but I wouldn't feel right if I didn't ask. We have far too many wounded civilians for me to simply hold my tongue." The woman explained with apparent sincerity.

Alexander nodded slowly, "It's alright, I understand." He remained quiet for a few moments before the woman spoke again.

"At the very least, speak to our leader. He can explain more about how situation, and how you could help us." She opened the door to the safehouse and took a step back, "You can stay here regardless, but please, consider my proposal?"

"Thank you," Alexander replied softly, "I'll... uh... I'll be happy to speak to your leader."

The woman smiled as she helped Alexander inside. "It's Li'ena, by the way."

"Hmmm?" Alexander raised his eyebrow, at first confused but quickly understood. He offered an outstretched hand, "Graves, uh, Alexander."

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End Log.

Dr Alexander D. Graves
Patsy for Hire