LtJg Lera Michaels - Injections. Why'd It Have To Be Injections?
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steve...@yahoo.com
Sep 12, 2025, 9:15:30 AM9/12/25
to USS Khitomer – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Main Engineering, Deck 12, USS Khitomer - Mobile Medical Site))
Lera had watched as a steady line of individuals came and went from beyond the veil Medical had set up in Engineering. Amelia had exposed her right butt cheek to Dr. Hartford and all of Engineering. Betazoids. Perhaps the least inhibited species this side of Risa. Or so Lera imagined, having never been to Risa or basically anywhere else much more exotic than San Francisco.
She turned away for a moment and chewed her lower lip. There had been an order to get this injection before arriving at the nebula, and Lera knew it would have to happen. And happen soon. Beyond that, since she was in charge, she needed to set a good example. It simply did not matter that she looked forward to needles in the hands of doctors almost as much as she looked forward to anesthesia-free dental work.
There, standing next to the makeshift medical facility, was Dr Alix Hartford, looking for all of space like the angel of death. Even Alix's outline shimmered and wavered like the indistinct edges of a ghostly, non-corporeal being. The ghastly phantom of Doctor Hartford motionlessly, silently beckoned to Lera with a beneficent, somehow untrustworthy smile like the statue of the Virgin Mary at the Catholic church at home.
"Come, dear child. Come and meet your doom," the phantom seemed to call out in her silence. "Come. Yield to the inevitable. Yield to your destiny. Come."
Lera closed her eyes and clenched her fists. This was all her imagination. Lera looked up again. It was just a physician about to push a grotesquely oversized piece of metal deep into her muscles and force noxious fluids there to corrode her body from the inside. Nothing big. Nothing hundreds of Starfleet personnel had not endured, and most had survived. Lera would survive as well. If this had to happen, it would happen on her own terms. She even managed to force a smile as she walked over to Dr. Hartford.
Harford: Ready for your implant, Jay Gee?
Michaels: As ready as I will ever be. And that is :: glancing at what the doctor was holding, her words nearly failed her. :: it.
Harford: Oh, yes. Doctor Ohnari and myself have designed a small implantable device that will allow us to move away from the unpredictability of repeated hyposprays.
Michaels: I... I have a few questions first, if I may.
The Doctor’s brow furrowed. She appeared almost surprised.
Harford: Of course, I’m more than happy to answer your questions.
Michaels: I am aware, as I am certain you are, that there are many species with incompatible biochemistries. You are aware that some medications designed for Klingons are toxic to Vulcans. You are planning on injecting me with something customised for Vulcan physiology, are you not?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: Of course. :: Lera frowned for a moment. :: How exactly is this "implant" supposed to work?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: Radio controlled? You are aware that during our last visit to the Lagoon Nebula all radio communications became inactive. If such an event happened again, the lack of radio signals would not that mean that the implant would not be functional just when we need its alleged benefits most?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: And the purpose of injecting this implant in our gluteus maximus is to ensure that we will not be able to run away from you? It is an injection and not a suppository, right?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: I see. Very well. Let us get this over with as expeditiously as possible.
Lera stepped behind the divider and lowered her trousers just enough to allow Alix the required unfettered access.
Hartford: Response
The needle was somewhat larger than Lera had hoped, and the pain was slightly greater than she had anticipated. Lera took a breath and rearranged her clothing. She nodded to the physician, turned to return to her work, and nearly collapsed. The only thing that stopped Lera from landing flat on the deck was her hand catching the edge of Dr. Harford's stool. Lera's breathing was too fast, too shallow. What she could see of Engineering seemed to be spinning wildly out of control.
Hartford: Response
Michaels: I am all right. Just a bit light headed. :: long pause as the room gradually stopped spinning. :: Hyposprays are fine. :: beat :: I do not care for injections.
Tags/End for Lera
——— ☼ ———
LtJg Lera Michaels
Engineering Officer
USS Khitomer
K240106LM2
Lera had watched as a steady line of individuals came and went from beyond the veil Medical had set up in Engineering. Amelia had exposed her right butt cheek to Dr. Hartford and all of Engineering. Betazoids. Perhaps the least inhibited species this side of Risa. Or so Lera imagined, having never been to Risa or basically anywhere else much more exotic than San Francisco.
She turned away for a moment and chewed her lower lip. There had been an order to get this injection before arriving at the nebula, and Lera knew it would have to happen. And happen soon. Beyond that, since she was in charge, she needed to set a good example. It simply did not matter that she looked forward to needles in the hands of doctors almost as much as she looked forward to anesthesia-free dental work.
There, standing next to the makeshift medical facility, was Dr Alix Hartford, looking for all of space like the angel of death. Even Alix's outline shimmered and wavered like the indistinct edges of a ghostly, non-corporeal being. The ghastly phantom of Doctor Hartford motionlessly, silently beckoned to Lera with a beneficent, somehow untrustworthy smile like the statue of the Virgin Mary at the Catholic church at home.
"Come, dear child. Come and meet your doom," the phantom seemed to call out in her silence. "Come. Yield to the inevitable. Yield to your destiny. Come."
Lera closed her eyes and clenched her fists. This was all her imagination. Lera looked up again. It was just a physician about to push a grotesquely oversized piece of metal deep into her muscles and force noxious fluids there to corrode her body from the inside. Nothing big. Nothing hundreds of Starfleet personnel had not endured, and most had survived. Lera would survive as well. If this had to happen, it would happen on her own terms. She even managed to force a smile as she walked over to Dr. Hartford.
Harford: Ready for your implant, Jay Gee?
Michaels: As ready as I will ever be. And that is :: glancing at what the doctor was holding, her words nearly failed her. :: it.
Harford: Oh, yes. Doctor Ohnari and myself have designed a small implantable device that will allow us to move away from the unpredictability of repeated hyposprays.
Michaels: I... I have a few questions first, if I may.
The Doctor’s brow furrowed. She appeared almost surprised.
Harford: Of course, I’m more than happy to answer your questions.
Michaels: I am aware, as I am certain you are, that there are many species with incompatible biochemistries. You are aware that some medications designed for Klingons are toxic to Vulcans. You are planning on injecting me with something customised for Vulcan physiology, are you not?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: Of course. :: Lera frowned for a moment. :: How exactly is this "implant" supposed to work?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: Radio controlled? You are aware that during our last visit to the Lagoon Nebula all radio communications became inactive. If such an event happened again, the lack of radio signals would not that mean that the implant would not be functional just when we need its alleged benefits most?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: And the purpose of injecting this implant in our gluteus maximus is to ensure that we will not be able to run away from you? It is an injection and not a suppository, right?
Hartford: Response
Michaels: I see. Very well. Let us get this over with as expeditiously as possible.
Lera stepped behind the divider and lowered her trousers just enough to allow Alix the required unfettered access.
Hartford: Response
The needle was somewhat larger than Lera had hoped, and the pain was slightly greater than she had anticipated. Lera took a breath and rearranged her clothing. She nodded to the physician, turned to return to her work, and nearly collapsed. The only thing that stopped Lera from landing flat on the deck was her hand catching the edge of Dr. Harford's stool. Lera's breathing was too fast, too shallow. What she could see of Engineering seemed to be spinning wildly out of control.
Hartford: Response
Michaels: I am all right. Just a bit light headed. :: long pause as the room gradually stopped spinning. :: Hyposprays are fine. :: beat :: I do not care for injections.
Tags/End for Lera
——— ☼ ———
LtJg Lera Michaels
Engineering Officer
USS Khitomer
K240106LM2
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