LtJG Gila Sadar - States of Mind
Gila Sadar
(( Primary Sickbay – Deck 7, USS Artemis-A ))
Gila had been subject to many things in her brief time employed by Starfleet. She’d been teleported to the Dominion War’s version of Betazed and Romulus, she’d uncovered a rather distasteful wartime plot of a beloved war hero, she’d come face-to-face with a dark mirror image of herself, and she’d discovered some rather horrifying facets of her own physiognomy that was the stuff of collective Mizarian nightmares. But nothing, nothing, had prepared her for the deep-seated sense of dread that filled her as she saw the look in Captain MacKenzie’s eyes as she asked the most damning of questions.
MacKenzie: What do you do when you’re not working? Like, for fun.
oO Oh no Oo
Sadar: ::blinks in confusion:: F-Fun, Sir?
The Captain’s frigid eyes narrowed, and Gila felt herself visibly shrink before the auburn-headed woman.
MacKenzie: Yes, fun, Gila…
This was it. This was when the stonewalling began. They were going to put her on enforced bedrest because someone had found out she was a liability in the field, because of exhaustion or because of her erratic behaviour, or- wait, this was because of the Kitty Hawk, wasn’t it? Captain Rahman had become aware of the ticking time bomb resting within her skull, and had recommended Captain MacKenzie cut he loose as soon as possible. Yes, that had to be it.
Gila’s anxiety ring twisted at a thousand miles an hour, as she wrecked her head trying to find a plausible reason for her to escape this scenario.
oO Computer, end social interaction!! Oo
If only such an exit strategy had been invented yet...
Sadar: I, uhh... ::eyes rapidly moving from side to side:: P-P-Please don’t p-put me on forced leave, Sir. I-I promise I’m doing okay!
MacKenzie: ::flatly:: You’re not getting put on leave, Lieutenant. But you also can’t spend your whole life hiding in your work. What do you do for fun? Do have hobbies??
oO Oh. Okay. So, not that bad. Oo
Still bad. But not as bad as initially feared.
Sadar: I-I like art. I cook… I sew?
The Captain’s eyes narrowed once more, and Gila mentally reprimanded herself for thinking the current situation ‘less bad’ simply because the Captain wasn’t intending on punishing her for poor resting protocols.
MacKenzie: Are you asking me, or telling me, Lieutenant? ::shaking her head:: You sew? Have you ever sold your garments?
Gila almost sputtered, the idea was so ludicrous.
Sadar: O-Oh, no, I’m very much an amateur, Sir. I-It’s just, uhh... It’s something to get my mind to focus on the process. E-Empty my head, as it were.
MacKenzie: I see, I see… What do you like to cook? I’m quite partial to Bajoran hasparat, but part of what I love about Starfleet is the potential to try new cuisine wherever we travel. Are there any Mizarian dishes you enjoy cooking??
Gila visibly paled at this line of questioning, vividly remembering what had come of it last time an Artemisian found out she cooked in her spare time. Granted, the cooking excursion to the Holodeck with Lieutenants Silveira and Jovenan had been enjoyable, but Gila was not enthused about the prospect of the Captain enforcing a similar appointment.
Sadar: Oh, uhh, I, I wouldn’t say that, no, I just... ::sighs slightly at the Captain’s insistent demeanor:: I’m still a novice. D-Don’t have a favorite, though I think I’m fairly good at making soups and stews.
The Wheel had mercy on her this day, as the Captain elegantly moved on from the talk of cooking. Perhaps she was not a fan of soups? Gila almost breathed a sigh of relief, but decided not to ‘count her chickens’ just yet.
MacKenzie: If you like museums and art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York is one of the best on Earth. At least, it used to. …assuming it wasn’t destroyed by the Borg.
A slight, mischievous smile crept on the corners of the Captain’s face, and Gila felt an equal reaction start to make her skin prick. This was not good.
MacKenzie: We should go! The fresh air will do you good.
Gila’s mind went numb at the nonsensical sentence, as she struggled to understand what the Captain was saying.
Sadar: ... G-Go? We? WE should go!?
MacKenzie: Response
oO Exit strategy, EXIT STRATEGY! Oo
Sadar: B-But Sir, s-surely you have-
MacKenzie: Response
Realizing that arguing with Captain Addison MacKenzie at this junction was pointless, Gila visibly succumbed to the turn of the universe.
Sadar: ::deflated discontent:: Yes Sir...
(((Timeskip: 30 minutes later)))
((Entrance Foyer - Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, Earth))
As the scattered atoms of Gila gathered back together at the concluding stage of the transport, she felt herself shudder slightly. She’d gotten used to transporters over her years of living on Federation territory, but considering the scrutiny that had been placed on the equipment in the weeks since Frontier Day, many had started distrusting the technology again. It didn’t matter the insistence of the Corps of Engineers that they’d managed to isolate the manipulated equipment, as trauma never listened to logic. It would take a while before many started using transporters on a daily basis again, she suspected.
Other parts of daily life, however, had resumed in the face of adversity, and Gila blinked at the not insignificant number of visitors filing through the wide halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There were still some evidence left behind of Frontier Day - some residual phaser burns still tarnished the walls where assimilated guests had managed to arm themselves, and some displays had been vacated with a ‘Currently Under Renovation’ sign masking the tragedy that had made such an endeavor necessary - but this bastion of culture and art in the center of the Big Apple was evidence of one major truth.
Everyone wanted a semblance of normalcy back in their lives, and some had chosen to find that here.
Sadar: I-It’s in a surprisingly good condition, considering... And packed.
MacKenzie: Response
TAGS/TBC
LtJG Gila Sadar
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240006GS1