Poetic, sarcastic, doc

Posted on Mon Nov 3rd, 2025 @ 12:03am by Commander Aleshanee & Chief Warrant Officer Karzen Son of Arjune, Son of Ragan MD, MPH

2,052 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: A New Dawn
Location: Deep Space Nine

Aleshanee was back on the station, but this time down at the docking ring, the Starfleet engineering team had finished with their TLC on the Lovalace. The team leader walked through the upgrades. The most notable addition was a command chair installed on the bridge, along with a holographic communication system similar to the one found on the Defiant. The other upgrade was a semi-AI program designed to assist with tactical and navigation tasks.

The only other significant addition was the inclusion of an EMH (Emergency Medical Hologram), along with holo-projectors throughout the ship, which enabled the EMH to provide aid anywhere on the ship. Just then, the ship's computer alerted her through her PaDD that someone was at the airlock. In the alert, another alert came with it, a message from the colonel, which said, "I found you a doc."

Pressing her palm against the airlock terminal, and with a hiss, the airlock opened, "doctor?" Aleshanee asked.

"Yes," Karzen growled before introducing himself. "Karzen, Son of Arjune, Son of Ragan, Doctor of Medicine, Master of Public Health, and so forth, treater of wounds small, large, and gaping, along with all manner of diseases, dysfunctions, and disorders, and manager of the health of populations. I greet you in the name of Hippocrates and The Great Bird of the Galaxy, and, lest we forget, Kahless the Unforgettable, may he never be forgotten."

Aleshanee took a deep breath in as it was a lot, "okay, um, have we met?" She asked, finding something about him familiar.

Karzen rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I should have entitled myself 'Karzen the Forgettable' since you don't remember me," the old physician said. "I suppose it's not surprising you don't remember me. You'd been wounded on a raid and were in the process of trying very hard to die. The battle against your mortality was glorious. In the end, I prevailed. However, you were in and out of various levels of consciousness, and you were unconscious when you left. I had to order your comrades to remove you from my clinic before the Cardassians or Starfleet discovered I had possession of you. The neutrality of my clinics was respected by all sides fairly consistently, but that was not guaranteed. I could not risk the lives of the noncombatants, especially the children and the elderly, in my care. But I remember you, because you funneled medical supplies to me throughout the hard years. I may be a cantankerous old bastard, but I do not forget obligations of gratitude."

"....ah yes, the poetic Kllingon, with a dark sense of humor, I do remember that as I was slipping in and out of consciousness," Aleshanee said with a soft chuckle, "and no I understand that, please come aboard, I was told you have accepted the position as doctor on the lovely Ada Lovelace," Aleshanee said stepping aside to allow him access to the Ju'Day raider.

"Hrmm," Karzen made a sort of guttural noise of vague acknowledgment and stepped through the hatch. "Contingent on the Federation recognizing the Maquis as an official force. I've done my best to stay off all Federation terrorist watchlists. As far as I know, I succeeded. I'm sure the Cardassians had me on a list, but they're not really a going concern at the moment, so I don't care." Karzen looked around. "I can't imagine you have much of a Sickbay or Medbay or Infirmary or whatever you're going to call it, on this ship; however, since I'll be working in it if all goes well, I'd better have a look."

Karzen was unapologetic about his refusal to join the Maquis during the hard years and even during the war. He was a doctor with a Federation medical license. That could be revoked if he joined a so-called terrorist organization, which would have hampered and interfered with his ability to practice medicine and his access to medical supplies and support through legitimate channels. He'd served as a frontier/colonial physician for almost fifty years, through the Cardassian Border Wars (from the very beginning, having been on an assignment to Setlik III when the Cardassians massacred most of the colonists there), the conflict in the DMZ, the Federation-Klingon War, and the Dominion War. Before university and then medical school, he'd spent thirty years as a combat fighter pilot, fighting for the Nyberrite Alliance, where he was born and raised. He felt he'd proven his loyalty and dedication to the people of the DMZ and certainly felt no need to prove his worth as a warrior.

"I understand your caution with this," Aleshanee said, trying to keep a level head, as she had always found Klingons to be a bit difficult; then again, she had not met many. "Regardless of how the Federation rules on the defense force, all serving and remaining Maquis will be commuted, unless the Federation can prove that they committed war crimes," Aleshanee said.

"The infirmary is small, but fully stocked, and an EMH was just installed, and all over the ship, holo-projectors have been installed, giving you an assistant to help with those who are more severely injured in multiple places. I know this isn't much, but it is my and my crew's home, and I hope over time it can become yours as well," Aleshanee said as they arrived at the relatively small infirmary, two medbeds, a very, very small office, and a slightly larger supply closet.

Karzen looked over the Infirmary he'd be working in for the foreseeable future, if all went well. He examined the medbeds, looking over both their diagnostic features and their ability to facilitate treatment and procedures. For their size and available resources (power, mainframe, memory, processing speed, etc.), they were pretty sophisticated. His office would be adequate for reviewing charts and performing any other necessary administrative tasks. There was a replicator, though he'd have to review what the available replicator matter would be. It wouldn't be as much as he'd had available during his brief tours aboard Frontier Health Service hospital ships, but he could make do... he hoped. Karzen double-checked that the replicator was indeed capable of replicating medicines. It was, so that would solve some of the issues created by limited space. Regardless, the truth was that the most severely injured crewmembers might have to be stabilized for transport to a higher level of care.

The supply closet, however, was empty. Karzen turned to Aleshanee. "I assume Starfleet is going to supply us with whatever we can fit in that," Karzen gestured to the supply closet. "So we don't run out of replicator matter, or for when we do? I want to draw up a wishlist so we get what I'll actually need, as opposed to what some Starfleet supply officer thinks I'll need."

"They will," Aleshanee said, though she was unsure if they would, but in her mind, they would. The one thing about Starfleet and the Federation is that they do not intentionally cause harm, and letting a ship leave without medical supplies would be doing just that.

Karzen nodded. "I'll have to train the EMH AI to work well with me," he said. "Someone brought me one in the DMZ, but we never had enough holoprojectors to make it useful as anything-- more than a consulting physician, an intelligence of sorts to brainstorm with. It will be a learning process for me as well. For now, though, I will proceed with making a list of supplies to submit to Starfleet."

"Fair enough, from what I have been told, the EMH has a semi-sentient self-learning AI core," Aleshanee added, very unsure what any of that meant.

"Yes," Karzen said. "That was what I encountered in my limited experience. We often didn't have enough available power supply or available computing power to turn our misappropriated model on, even for consultation. Our model was an insufferable, arrogant, pompous ass... which meant we got along famously and spent almost as much time taking shots at each other as we did in consultation. We'll have to see if the Daystrom Institute has improved personality parameters on their most current model, if they didn't give us an older model out of spite." Karzen stopped examining the medical equipment and looked at Aleshanee. "Tell me, Captain, what is your assessment of Starfleet's willingness to recognize the Maquis as an official defense force for the colonies of the DMZ? You do realize this will set a precedent, don't you? This could spread to other colonies outside of the DMZ. Recognizing us," without thinking about it, Karzen had referred to the Maquis as 'us'. "Could open the door to a much larger debate."

Aleshanee nodded as she walked over to a console and tapped a few buttons, "alright you have access to the EMH, but any significant changes will need to be run by me or my XO lieutenant Kesden Lokn, and then implemented by our chief engineer, technical sergeant Josi Baro," Aleshanee said looking around, "put a shopping list together of supplies, and send it to me, and I'll make sure we get it, and we need to get physicals for the crew, including you which is onna require either the EMH to do it, or we call a doctor from Deep Space Nine to conduct yours," she added.

Karzen did not miss that Aleshanee had acknowledged, but effectively avoided answering the larger question he had asked. There isn't much to discuss regarding the larger picture, this Maquis captain. "Understood," Karzen said. "I assume that includes you, Captain." The old Klingon/Rihannsu physician gestured to one of the Medbeds. "If you would be so kind as to lie down. This will take several, perhaps many, moments, a moment being ninety seconds on Earth, as I understand it. It shouldn't hurt. If it does, then either I am a terrible physician, which I'm not, or you are what might be best described as 'excessively fucked up'. Come now, let's get this over with."

Aleshanee sighed but got up from the bed, "and I am not ignoring your question, need some time to think on it," she said, letting the doc do what he needed to do.

Karzen was familiar with Federation and Starfleet medical technology from his days with the Federation Frontier Health Service, so it didn't take him long to figure out how to run various scans on the young captain. "You've clearly been battered and bruised quite a bit. Some of this damage was well treated, other wounds and injuries could have received better treatment in my opinion. But nothing looks like it poses a health risk or causes impairment of any kind. If you're sore in cold and/or damp conditions, I can provide analgesic and anti-inflammatory treatment. If this discomfort is severe, I can refer you to a surgeon with the facilities to correct the issue. Otherwise, I wouldn't worry about it." Karzen frowned.

"Understandably, you probably didn't have regular access to nutritious foods during the hard times and during the Dominion War. This seems to have led to a vitamin and mineral defficiency. The defficiency has clearly been correcting itself, but I'd like to hurry it a long. I'm going to provide you with a prescription for a vitamin and mineral supplement. Replicate some on the station and take it as prescribed. I will provide you with a code that will automatically put it in any food you replicate for when you eat replicated food, and I will provide you with a list of the kinds of fresh foods you should work into your diet when you can get fresh food. Don't worry, I don't expect you to torture yourself or become an herbivore. Alright, if you have any medical complaints, tell me now. If not, then you are free to go."

"I can do that, and please remember get me that 'shopping list', and I am always available for anything that you need," and with that Aleshanee slipped off the bed and out of the infirmary leaving the doc.

After Aleshanee was out of the Infirmary and down the corridor, Karzen made a sort of 'harumph' type of throat-clearing noise for no one's benefit but his own and that of the Great Bird of the Galaxy and went into his office to begin compiling his wishlist.

 

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