Lt Cmdr Quentin Beck - Guess Who's Back
Quentin Beck
((Suite J-1020, Deck 3, Deep Space 33))
It was… weird, being automatically afforded something like VIP status when he'd been so used to… not. Apparently, though, being a Fellow of the Academy of Starfleet Surgeons carried a lot of weight with the title, which actually made a lot of sense considering how De La Croix threw hers around like it was going out of style. Quentin felt maybe a little guilty about it, or at least he should have, but after even his short stint working with Division 14, he'd decided he should take advantage of it while he could… and most especially take advantage of the leeway his new position allowed regarding exactly where his work could be done.
He sat on one of the crates that held the majority of his belongings, gingerly stroking the back of his Ragamuffin kitty, Alice, with one hand while using a brush with the other to carefully remove any clumps of fur. He was facing towards the comm built into the wall, wearing a tattered old Nightmare tee-shirt featuring Freddy's iconic glove.
Beck: It's been… interesting, to say the least, because the environment is so seriously different from what I'm used to. Every single person I've been working with in Division 14 is a scientist or doctor of one kind or another, and almost every one of them also has to do what I tell them.
T'Ama: You don't feel like the King of the Nerds?
He chuckled a little at that.
Beck: I'm surrounded by nerds. ::a beat:: Bigger nerds than I am, okay? If you can believe it.
T'Ama: I grew up on a planet that is uniformly populated by the biggest nerds in the universe - I can believe it. You are a bigger dork.
He let out a snort of a laugh at that, shooting her a playful glare, and Alice mewed up at him in agreement. Blinking a few times and looking at the cat, he let out another, more indignant snort.
Beck: Not you, too, you stinker.
She mewed again before turning a little in his lap and butting her head against the hand holding the brush. Quentin sighed, shaking his head, then started scratching behind her ears.
Beck: How dare you be so adorable. ::to T'Ama:: What about you? How are things going for you on the Valk? Feel like you've earned that FO position?
T'Ama: They can pry it from my cold, dead body - or whenever the brass needs another diplomat I guess.
Beck: ::sighing:: I get that. I've been growing restless back on Earth… but I figured out I could pull some strings. The Ronin's supposed to arrive any minute now, so I'm looking forward to seeing her again.
T'Ama: I'm just glad you didn't have to deal with Cruella de Vil as a boss. She certainly was... performative.
Quentin snickered before shaking his head, giving Alice one last scritch before shooing her from his lap and setting the brush aside.
Beck: That certainly made it easier to enjoy the position. I will enjoy it even more knowing I can oversee the research from my lab on the ship. As for the emulent beast… I may get the opportunity to torment her just a little bit. I think it only fair.
T'Ama: ::arching an eyebrow:: How?
Beck: I'm gonna be her boss.
T'Ama: Why isn't she going back to the festering pit of sewage from whence she came?
Beck: She will be, eventually, but with Syrex gone, I am a little short of helping hands at the moment, and we could always use a good surgeon. Besides, it's going to do her some good to see how things go on the other side of the tracks.
T'Ama: Alright, well if you want me to keelhaul her at warp or something... Just let me know.
He grinned.
Beck: I don't think that'll be necessary, but I will keep it in mind.
Quentin glanced at a message that popped up on the screen in the bottom corner.
Beck: I hate to cut the conversation short, but it looks like the Ronin's here. I'll call you later?
T'Ama: You better.
Quentin stood and offered her a warm smile, a wink, and a finger-gun before closing the comm and moving into the refresher.
((Later - CMO's Office, Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Ronin))
On his arrival in Sickbay, Quentin was half-tempted to remove his shoes and wiggle his bare feet against the deck plating, as if he'd been stepping onto a beloved patch of grass or sand for the first time in a long time… but he'd decided that maybe that was too weird, even for him. There appeared to be some new medtechs helping with some other crew members he didn't immediately recognize, and the last thing he needed was to alienate them on his first day back by showing off his ugly feet.
Smoothing out the lines of his freshly replicated uniform and blue labcoat, with Alice tucked into the side pocket of the duffel bag on his hip, Doctor Beck made his way through the thankfully quiet Sickbay to approach the office at the back of the room. His temporary replacement, the Klingon counselor Shortrith, suddenly appeared in his doorway as he approached, and he mirrored their welcoming smile.
Shortrith: ::Smiling warmly:: Welcome back, Doctor. I believe the seat in there ::they gestured into the CMO's office:: is yours.
He nodded his thanks, glancing past their shoulder at the familiar office, his eyes sparkling. Then he met their gaze again.
Beck: I would apologize for returning to it so quickly, but frankly, I'd be lying. I missed it a great deal.
Shortrith: I trust your work with Division 14 went well?
Beck: ::nodding:: Well enough, though the work continues. I discovered that Doctor De La Croix was not entirely honest with me about the requirements for the position - I do not need to stay on Earth to perform my duties, though I will have to return occasionally for special events.
He indicated the ship around them.
Beck: I see we're still in one piece, at least for the moment. Pretty impressive, considering what happened. Heard it through the grapevine.
The Klingon chuckled before their face turned serious.
Shortrith: Nobody exploded, fortunately. We had a couple of casualties, however, who passed from radiation poisoning. They were workers at a Sencha Radiation facility that turned out to be controlled by the Lattice Alliance. We'll need to keep an eye on some people on the ship, especially for side-effects of radiation and de-aging.
His smile faded, lips forming a thin line, and his brow creasing slightly with concern before he nodded. While it was a relief to know no one from the Ronin had been lost, it was also disappointing to hear that there had been casualties.
Beck: Could've been a lot worse. I'm glad you didn't have to deal with a lot worse. I look forward to reading your report and your suggested course of treatment for anyone that shows symptoms.
Shortrith: Response
Stepping through the door to his office, Quentin unslung the bag from his shoulder and dropped it onto the holographic couch in the corner of his office. Alice popped out of it to the floor, mrowling and stretching before padding over to his desk and hopping up onto it immediately.
Beck: How do you think you did, Doc?
Shortrith: Response
Smiling slightly, he nodded again before crossing around behind the desk and leaning a hand against the headrest.
Beck: Are you anxious to get back to Counseling?
Shortrith: Response
He thought briefly about his conversation earlier with T'Ama.
Beck: If you're interested, I would be happy to offer some cross-training for you. You've already proven you can manage things when necessary, so I figure it wouldn't hurt to let you put in some hours in Sickbay when you're done with your day. ::raising a hand:: But I don't need an answer right away - just floating the idea.
Shortrith: Response
[Tags/TBC]
Lieutenant Commander Quentin Beck, MD, FASFS
Chief Medical Officer
USS Ronin NCC-34523
A238810SA0