Lt Cmdr Quentin Beck: Nanu Nanu
Quentin Beck
((The Fishbowl, Celestial Tide Sanctuary, Logali IV))
Beck: Well… that's why I wanted advice from the both of you. I know last time we had a pow wow like this one, I ended up leaving the Ronin for an indeterminate amount of time, but that's not my intention this time around. I'm just… rolling some ideas around in my head and wanted to see if they were crazy or not.
The Captain finished his drink, chuckling, and moved for a refill.
Niac: Speaking as you Captain I'm all ears. As your friend I can say, with all confidence, that any idea in your head is crazy...but that doesn't mean it's a bad one. So, what've you got so far? Going to try being the first male doctor on Angel One? I think you could pull off that half-shirt they strongly encourage their men to wear.
Kel: Have you tried making a pros and cons list?
Quentin couldn't help the smirk that pulled at one side of his mouth; coming from anyone else, he might have been offended by Niac's jibe, but he was self-aware enough to recognize that the Trill was not wrong in the least.
Beck: Not yet, but that's mostly because I only just started thinking about this. The idea kinda came to me overnight, while I was still sleeping in my quarters on the Ronin before coming down here. Sort of a flash of inspiration, y'know?
Niac: Oh absolutely...the problem is occasionally those flashes in the middle of the night are Rostil's, or Armo's, or Sencha's...and I end up putting together weird ingredients at 0330 or scaring the blue shirts in one of the science labs. Speaking of V'Len, I'll replace the meso-spectrometer in science lab two tomorrow...long story. Go on Quentin.
He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his gaze flicked over to Kel. The Trilldorian's eyes had narrowed at Niac, which was more than a little amusing.
Kel: ::mumbling to Karrod:: Let me guess Tuesday?
Cradling the drink between both hands, he propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and leaned forward, looking from one man to the other.
Beck: You guys are familiar with Hazard Teams, right? And Search and Rescue?
The Captain seemed to recognize the name.
Niac: Experimental tactical response team right? Specialized training and equipment, meant to be the tip of the spear in a variety of situations? I remember reading about a few ships that tried them with mixed results. Why? Think the Ronin needs one? Search & Rescue falls under Major Singh's scope of responsibility and those folks haven't let us down.
Kel: We also have Captain Winters and Lieutenant Frost who specialize in such things.
He huffed out a heavy breath of air. He didn't want to imply that anyone was ineffective at their job, but as the ship's CMO, he had a unique perspective when looking at the success rates for any of the teams on the Ronin. Even Sickbay had struggled from time to time. Context was important, but he also believed there might be a way to boost those numbers, at least a little.
Beck: Well, considering how many times we've had shuttles go missing or someone needing emergency extraction since the ship's launch, I have been wondering if maybe we've got a gap in our support tree. Singh and her team do a great job when they're needed, but often they have to divert away from defending the ship to try to perform something a little more specialized, like extracting a prisoner or injured patients, or some such.
Karrod looked like he'd been about to defend Singh's team, but had stopped himself short. Kel looked… unconvinced, and for good reason. Doctors generally weren't part of the military wing on any starship, if a military presence existed at all, but the circumstances they often dealt with in the Alpha Isles suggested to him it was worthwhile to think outside the box.
Niac: That's fair...I never wanted the Ronin to be a warship...I always wanted to keep our footing flexible...but the reality of our missions and our time in the Alpha Isles has been demanding. Keep talking. You've got me interested.
Kel did not seem mollified, though it didn't help he was distracted by the basset hound licking at his paws.
Kel: Mork stop licking yourself.
Quentin arched a brow as he looked at Kel, curious if he was correct in recognizing what sounded like an old Earth reference in the dog's name, but he was already on a roll, so he stayed on topic as he looked back to Niac. His head tipped a little in a nod.
Beck: I was thinking we could put together a team to handle that kind of specialized mission. Not exactly a Medical Hazard Team, but not really the traditional kind, either. We would retrofit one of the shuttles to serve as our home base when we wouldn't be on the Ronin, and make it modular enough it could function as anything from an ambulance to a mobile operating room to a high security transport. Which means we would need to involve Security at the very least, but I kinda see this as a team that would pull from all departments.
Niac: I can see the value of something like that...take one of the larger runabouts, pull it apart, setup some modules we could swap in quickly depending on the needs of the day...putting the team together is a bit trickier though. You'd need medical, security, pilots...frankly, it sounds like work the Marines are already doing for us, just...larger.
Kel: You forgot science sir. Never forget the old saying "Science will win."
Quentin smiled at them both.
Beck: I… would kinda want to run the team, actually. I'm not sure I could manage it while also handling the CMO job, since I'd need to be in Sickbay, but I would like to at least start putting together the infrastructure for this kind of team. Thoughts?
Kel took a sip of his drink before sitting down. Niac set his glass own on the table and smiled a smile that Quentin was sure he would never, ever forget. It was, quite literally a cheshire cat smile, and the Doctor's cheeks colored slightly with surprise.
Niac: Well Doctor...my first thought is...how do you feel about the color green?
Kel: ::raising an open palm:: But that leaves a vacancy in sickbay. Are you suggesting Dr. Shortrith continue as CMO permanently?
Quentin blinked in confusion at Karrod, not entirely sure what he meant, but then shook his head quickly when Kel interrupted, setting his drink down and pushing himself to stand.
Beck: No, no, no, not at all. As well as things went with them filling in for the last mission, I'm not ready to throw them out of the frying pan and into the deep end, so to speak. They're not ready. Yet.
Despite Quentin's correction, Niac rubbed his hands together, as if he was plotting.
oO This can't be good. Oo
Niac: See, we could reorganize our security and medical teams, and step on a lot of toes in those departments and with our Marine contingent all at once...or...you go to work for Major Singh. Starfleet Medical graciously loans you to the Starfleet Marine Corp, where you can share your field medical expertise and surgical prowess...you know, all those new letters after your name...while learning from the best in the business at rapid response, high risk tactical operations.
Kel: I hate to be that guy, but I'd really like to understand how this would look. It sounds like a completely different organization that what we traditionally have on starships.
The Doctor sighed before nodding his agreement.
Beck: You're correct, V'Len. But I hope I don't need to point out there's nothing really traditional about anything we deal with here in the Alpha Isles. I am just offering an alternative based on trends I have seen in my time serving as Chief.
Niac rapped a knuckle on the table… and for some reason, Quentin felt as if that had rather been a gavel striking a sound block. It didn't strike him as a gavel used in a courtroom, either. More like the auction block.
Niac: You'd work with them along with all our other teams to expand our existing S&R capabilities...both equipment and tactics...and if after a few months it seems to be working, you write the whole thing up so we can introduce the idea to the fleet for broader adoption. But I haven't even told you the best part yet!
Kel: Do tell.
The Doctor side-eyed him as if Niac had kicked Mork across the room.
Beck: . . . go on.
Niac chuckled and stroked his beard. Just like a classic spy villain would do.
oO No, Mister Beck, I expect you to die. Oo
Niac: Best part is I know for a fact Major Singh hates a mustache. She'll have you running laps up and down the flight deck until you shave it off or your legs are worn down to nubs. She'll make that odious women currently haunting Sickbay seem like your favorite eccentric aunt.
Quentin did his best not to wilt at V'Len's laughter. He did his best not to allow the look of disgust to cross his features at the thought of… ugh, aerobic exercise.
Kel: I can think of a Doctor and a Nurse who would be 100% on board with this plan, even if I'm skeptical.
He moved backward to his seat, settling back down into it and crossing his arms over his chest defensively.
Beck: Okay, forget it. Stupid idea, let's forget I said anything.
Kel couldn't stop laughing at him. Quentin fumed a little, his mustache twitching side to side as he glowered.
Kel: I think you should try to sell the Major on mustaches. You're a pretty smooth operator.
He muttered under his breath.
Beck: I think you should try to sell–
Niac: Response
Niac thankfully cut him off before he could finish that thought. He still thought it very hard in the Trilldorians direction, one eye narrowing slightly, as if trying to use the Shine he didn't know he'd had since he was a little boy.
Unfortunately, Kel's head did not implode.
Kel: Ok. In all seriousness I think this idea has merit, but how does this rearrangement look. Is Quentin now a Mission Specialist. Do we need to speak to Reniae about taking the CMO role permanently?
He let out a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face, arms still clutched somewhat defensively over his chest.
Beck: No. Hell no. Like I said earlier, they have potential, but they're not ready yet. They need more time serving with the rest of the Medical staff first, and eventually need to undertake another mission as Acting CMO. I had been hoping my former assistant would have been around to take the job, but unfortunately, she decided to move on. Such is life.
He shook his head.
Beck: No, this would be strictly in the planning-and-maybe-training phase for right now. If I'm going to be expected to handle combat in any form, it's going to take some work.
Niac: Response
Kel: Well we all know that sooner or later Starfleet is going to send us back out and I don't think it would be wise to be "changing on the fly" as it were.
Quentin nodded.
Beck: I agree. This is not me floating my CV for a new position - hell, I'm not ready for that kind of thing yet. But I wanted to see if the idea had any merit and if we could afford to start working that direction.
Niac/Kel: Response
Smiling grimly, he reached out to pick up his glass again and downed half of it in one big gulp. Then he wet his lower lip, looking at them both seriously.
Beck: I will not step down until I'm certain we have a suitable replacement. I owe the Ronin a lot, and I won't make a hasty decision just because I'm feeling a little boxed in. Make sense?
Niac/Kel: Response
He indicated the pup on the floor.
Beck: Mork… from Ork?
Niac/Kel: Response
He shook his head wryly, chuckling and drumming his fingers against the side of his glass.
Beck: I am just always flummoxed when someone who shouldn't have much knowledge for historical references from Earth displays them so vividly. Where did you get the name?
Niac/Kel: Response
[Tags/TBC!]
Lieutenant Commander Quentin Beck, MD, FASFS
Chief Medical Officer
USS Ronin NCC-34523
A238810SA0