Ensign Roy Bancroft - A Slightly Concerning Sense of Calm
Carter Schimpff
(( Primary Sickbay – Deck 7, USS Artemis-A ))
Bancroft: That was a bit deep for small talk, wasn’t it? My apologies. I forgot to put on my manners this morning. ::beat, softening:: Tell me about you, if you would. Did you get your degree at Starfleet Medical? Or somewhere else?
Vhysa’lia: ::wink:: Don’t worry, you can’t scare me off that easily. I’m Kobali and sometimes, frankly, it feels like every conversation I have is ::air quotes again, somewhat awkwardly, with one hand holding a dermal regenerator mid-scan:: “deep”. Just what comes with the species, it seems.
They'd winked at him. That was new.
Hard to say if it was a diplomatic gesture or the start of a long con. Time would tell. Probably just after it was too late.
He didn’t know much – or really, anything – about the Kobali aside from the whole “death isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning... again” situation.
And while part of him was morbidly curious, the rest of him, the part with a functioning sense of professional restraint, knew better than to lead with ‘So, what’s it like waking up with somebody else’s molars and unexplained opinions about the Cardassian Union?’
Instead, he defaulted to the universal medical defense mechanism: polite ambiguity.
Bancroft: ::chuckling:: Well, you’re in good company here, ma’am.
The line was harmless. Meaningless, even. But it bought him a moment to hide behind while his brain caught up.
Vhysa’lia: But yes, you’re right, I didn’t get my degree at Starfleet Medical. I did all my training back in the Delta Quadrant, with a few brush-ups on the Artemis recently, in preparation for joining the medical department. My Kobali education was quite thorough though, in case you’re at all concerned about working with someone who doesn’t remember the same professors you suffered through. ::laugh::
Bancroft: ::grinning faintly:: Some of those professors were fantastic. A couple others seemed like they were trying to prepare us for medical practice by actively sabotaging our will to live.
He gave a theatrical shudder and set down the freshly sanitized regenerator.
Bancroft: Diversity in training and experience makes us all better physicians. Or at the very least, confused in more creative ways. ::beat:: What’s your specialization – if you have one?
Vhysa’lia: Oh, I dabble, you know. A good deal of the work that I was doing before I came here was helping acclimate some of our kyn’cheya, our newest, to our society. You wouldn’t believe the sort of medical problems that can arise in those cases. ::shrug, then a look of curiosity:: I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of… interesting cases?
Roy paused, one finger tapping thoughtfully against a vial of sterile saline.
Bancroft: ::mildly:: Well, yes and no. There’s something interesting about every case if you stare at it long enough. Like abstract art, or a Vulcan’s idea of romantic poetry.
He swapped one tray for another and continued without looking up.
Bancroft: We did have that run-in with the murder-particles during the last mission – I assume that was in your briefing. If not, you’re overdue for a crash course from Doc Crashcart.
::a beat, then more sincerely::
Bancroft: But other than that, I’m brand new. Just a few weeks out of my final clinical rotation. This is my first posting. First Sickbay. First crew. First… all of this.
His voice didn’t carry shame – more like a wary pride, tempered by the knowledge that his newness wasn’t exactly a selling point.
Vhysa’lia: Response
They fell into a quiet rhythm after that – the steady beep of scanners and soft clink of instruments filling the space between them. It wasn’t silence, exactly. More like the kind of comfortable quiet that only existed in shared focus – or, perhaps, mutual distraction.
Roy glanced at her once, just briefly. There was something calming about Vhysa’lia’s presence.
He didn’t trust it in the slightest.
Then again, maybe that was the exhaustion talking.
Or maybe she was trying to lull him into a false sense of security so she could harvest his organs and donate them to herself retroactively.
Which, to be fair, would at least be thematically consistent.
Bancroft: ::idly, but with a note of curiosity:: If I might ask a question, ma’am – I’m enjoying your company, but I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a Lieutenant spend this much time chatting with an Ensign who hasn’t even peeled the plastic off his pip yet. ::beat, dryly:: What gives?
Vhysa’lia: Response
TAG/TBC!
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Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1