PNPC Ensign Ceylan Graves - Prophylaxis
Ras El'Heem
((Lab 1, Sickbay, Deck 6, USS Khitomer – enroute to the Lagoon Nebula))
A shudder of apprehension overtook him when their destination was announced. Their prior passage through the nebula was anything but salubrious, and now fate demanded they traverse that treacherous expanse again. Ceylan’s limbs trembled despite his attempts to remain composed. Still, he could not reconcile himself with the evil he already know. Far preferable waws the uncertainty of the undiscovered hazard, though most would deem that inversion perverse. For Ceylan, it meant the odds of encountering no hazard were in his favor.
For that reason, when the directive resounded for compulsory Sencha prophylaxis, he hastened toward sickbay with something near desperation. If bulwarks could be raised against it, he would take all the bulwarks he could get. His relief soured upon his arrival. Dolourously, sickbay was already brimming with crew waiting for their mandatory vaccination. The press of bodies and incidental chatter frayed at his nerves. He slunk to the rear, hoping the periphery might shelter him from unwelcome fraternization. That reprieve was ephemeral, as it often was. A Klingon woman sniffed him out in the crowd and advanced upon him with martial certainty.
B’Ella: Greetings.
Ceylan winced and shut his eyes, predicting the inevitability of being struck by the combative species. When all the struck him was a salutations, he slowly uncoiled and opened one eye.
Graves: Ah. Y-yes. Gr-greetings. Like-w-wise.
Her demeanor seemed strange for a Klingon. She didn’t exude the usual hostility in action, that most of their species were characterized by.
B’Ella: Is everything alright?
Graves: I uhhh…well..y-yes. I am simply h-here for mandatory pre-pre-preventative measures.
Ceylan found it insurmountable to make eye contact of any kind, and so he gazed over her head when she spoke.
B’Ella: I see. Well then, it’s good you’re here in sickbay. ::offers her hand in greeting:: I am Ensign B’Ella, daughter of K’Vort, ships new communications officer. And you are?
The squirrely ensign recoiled at her outstretched hand and just stared at it before responding.
Graves: I…I ummm…::looking from her hand to the spot above her head:: I am E-ensign Gr-Graves. Astro-astrocart-cartographer.
B’Ella: It is nice to meet you.
Ceylan turned his attention away from her and attempted to use his height to his advantage by looking over the crowd to see how long the delay would be.
Graves: Yes.
Serendipitously, both their names were called. He used the opportunity to follow in the more imposing B’Ella’s wake. When the reached the front, Ceylan couldn’t help but feel as though he had been ushered on stage and now every eye was on him. The man refused to face the queue behind him and his face flushed a bright red and his uniform became damp with sweat.
Ohnari/Harford: Response
B’Ella: Ensign B’Ella, reporting as instructed over the comms. I’m your new Operations Officer.
A muffled shriek came from behind the current they approached, and Ceylan nearly jumped out of his skin.
El’Heem: ::speaking through gritted teeth:: Zar’tok ven’khal rish’taak, gol’thar nesh’var! You couldn’t think of a better alternative?!
Ohnari/Harford: Response
El’Heem: And I need an event monitor? Is this punishment for leaving medical?
Ohnari/Harford: Response
Their question snapped his attention away from the brute behind the curtain. He faced the doctor and stared at the ground.
Graves: Ens-sign Graves, d-doctor.
Ohnari/Harford:: Response
B’Ella: You did say everyone. I’m also going to need my onboard checkup while I’m here.
Ohnari/Harford: Response
The ensign followed the woman to a biobed hidden away behind another curtain. As he turned to sit, he realized he could now see the aforementioned miscreant yelling exotic obscenities across from him. His gaze barely brushed over the man’s appearance before he replied.
El’Heem: ::smirking:: it’s just a pinch ::winking::
Ceylan gulped as he looked away from the Kressari officer.
Ohnari/Harford (whoever is administering Grave’s dose): Response
He wasn’t sure he heard her right.
Graves: B-Bend over?
He gulped again, eyes wide with fear.
Ohnari/Harford (whoever is administering Grave’s dose)
The shadow of the Kelpian could be seen through the curtain, turning away from the second shadow standing beside him. The shadow leaned over the bed and after a few moments of silence. There was a screech that startled the crowd of officers waiting their turn.
::I’m gonna let that one fade to black for comedic effect. Feel free to sim him passing out or disassociating or leaving or whatever!::
TAGS/End for Graves
PNPC Ensign Ceylan Graves
Astrometrics and Stellarcartography
USS Khitomer
As simmed by
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Lieutenant Ras El’Heem
Science Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
K240106RE3