Lieutenant Anath G'Renn - First Meetings and First Impressions (DS26)

[Anath G'Renn]

((Recreation Deck 2 - Level 27, Deep Space 26))

((Time Index: Two weeks after the Blackwell’s return))

 

Lor: Very funny, you creepy photonic piece of—

 

::At that the hologram started laughing in a clearly fake manner. This went on for a few moments before the bartender stopped emitting any noise. However, his mouth kept moving as if he were still laughing. Now that whatever issue was causing a problem with the bartender had been resolved she approached the bar and sat down on a barstool next to the ensign.::

 

G’Renn: Trouble with the holographic bartender?

 

Lor: It seems I am having trouble. I didn't know these things had breathalyzers... but I've barely had much to drink. I think it's just messing with me at this point.

 

::She tried to keep her comments vague. It occurred to her that perhaps the doctor would be embarrassed if his superior caught him arguing with a computerized bartender. Hopefully she hadn’t caught the doctor at a bad time. It certainly wasn’t her intention.

 

G’Renn: Some jobs an auto-generated hologram just can’t do. Unless they can expand past their pre-programmed routines, they won’t be ::She motioned to the hologram, still caught in a loop:: great at the job.

 

Lor: I've read about a lost ship having to rely on an EMH. It apparently gave a lot of sass too. ::Saden gave the holo-bartender the stink eye.::

 

G’Renn: Given the number of doctors on this ship I think its safe to hope that we never have to activate that unless something terrible has gone wrong. Although I will admit, it does have its uses. It certainly has a better memory than either of us, perhaps both of us combined. Basically the database given humanoid form when you think about it.

 

::It wasn’t that she hated the Emergency Medical Hologram. She just despised the idea of handing over her sickbay to the computer. She didn’t doubt the skill of the Blackwell’s EMH system. Given its vast encyclopedic knowledge of every subject imaginable in the field of medicine, it had probably forgotten more than she knew. Pure technical aptitude wasn’t the issue. It was the idea of an ultimately unfeeling holographic avatar for the ship’s computer making the very important decisions that a doctor had to make. Given her track record with the replicator in her quarters, she wasn’t about to sign over that kind of control of sickbay to a computer if she could at all help it. Thankfully if the EMH was ever required, it was probably because she and a majority of the medical staff were incapacitated.::

 

Bartender: Can I get you anything, ma’am?

 

::Anath turned to look at the bartender in surprise. It had spent the past few minutes miming laughter without sound and not responding to anything that they had said. The sudden interruption hadn’t been expected. Now he was standing in front of her with a smile as if nothing had happened. Whatever glitch had clearly self-corrected and he’d picked up right where he left off.::

 

G’Renn: Just a glass of water please.

 

::While the bartender poured her drink for her, she returned her focus to Doctor Lor. It was time to learn a bit more about him and try to get a handle on what kind of doctor he was. She started with a fairly standard question that she asked every new medical officer in sickbay.::

 

G’Renn: Tell me Doctor Lor, where did you go to medical school. Starfleet Medical Academy or somewhere else?

 

Lor: I went to the Calda Institute; specialized in xenopathology. It's a small school on the border of Fed space. The main campus is located on a desert moon. ::He gave a nervous chuckle:: I grew up on Earth so seeing a planet above you every day really messes with your head. You ever lived on a moon?

 

G'Renn: No. Vulcan doesn’t even have a moon.

 

::Anath found it fascinating to hear about the doctor’s background. It certainly wasn’t the average career path for a Starfleet medical officer.::

 

Lor: After I graduated, I found work on the other side of the border. A small pharmaceutical company hired me. We developed medicine for sentient species not under the Federation... but they ended up joining anyway and that killed our contracts with them. Our company and space station had to be liquidated; we couldn't afford to maintain the place anymore.

 

G'Renn: So what happened then?

 

Lor: A Ferengi holding firm acquired us but... you know. They don't understand medicine. If you're small time like we were, it's not profitable. So, instead of making medicine, they used our resources to grow meat for their burger bar restaurant chain.

 

::Already Anath had a few choice words about that company. She didn’t know where to start. The disregard for medicine, the refusal to put resources into bettering people’s lives, and the obsession with profit were at the top of the list. Based on the ensign’s expression he had similar thoughts about the company.::

 

Lor: Bimmy Juffet's Vargaritamill. That's the chain.  It sucks. And Bimmy can't sing worth a tribble turd. Don't buy his albums; that's not him. When he does his live performances he's using a holo-audio emitter on the back of his garbage acoustic guitar. The voice singing is actually some A.I. hologram program he bought off a Nausicaan smuggler. He got it for cheap because they were too dumb to get it to work. The whole thing is a sham to attract clueless space tourists that cross the border.

 

::And she thought that her time at Starfleet Academy counted as difficult and challenging. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what that had to be like. There were so many questions that came to mind but that she wouldn’t ask. The entire enterprise had sounded unsavory to start with and the details had done nothing to improve that initial impression. All she could muster was a single sentence, stating the obvious.::

 

G'Renn: Doesn’t sound like a very pleasant place to work.

 

Lor: With not having a career path there anymore, I left. I moved back to Earth and joined Starfleet. I took some courses I wanted to take at the Calda Institute and, well, now I'm here. Ranting to you about Bimmy Juffet. ::He mumbled under his breath:: Slime ball.

 

G'Renn: Well, we can certainly hope that you’ll find your time here on the Blackwell a fulfilling experience. And I promise that we’ll never play music from Bimmy Juffet in sickbay.

 

::She was enjoying the conversation, but she could tell that the ensign’s focus was starting to drift elsewhere. He had just arrived on the station after all. For all she knew he hadn’t even set foot on the Blackwell yet. No doubt there were other tasks he had to do that evening, and his next sentence only confirmed her suspicions.::

 

Lor: I'm sorry to cut this short but I'm really tired. It's been a long trip to get out here and I really need to call my wife; it's been two Earth days since we last talked. Do I have quarters yet? Or a place I could stay on the station for the night, maybe?

 

G'Renn: You should already have quarters assigned. Any of the wall panels on the ship should be able to give you the number. ::She smiled and stood up from her barstool:: Go get some rest, and I’ll introduce you to some of the sickbay staff later. It was a pleasure getting to know you.

 

::The doctor got up to head out of the holodeck, leaving Anath drinking a glass of water and glancing over at the holographic bartender who seemed to more or less be back to normal. Much like Doctor Lor, the evening had worn her out. Soon she would find herself retiring to the familiar comfort of a good book and a cup of tea before bed.::

 

 

Lieutenant Anath G'Renn

Chief Medical Officer, USS Blackwell - Andaris Task Force

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