Phelan: an Exam

Posted on Thu Dec 11th, 2025 @ 3:05am by Chief Warrant Officer Karzen Son of Arjune, Son of Ragan MD, MPH & Flight Officer Phelan Sabrehagen

2,118 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: A New Dawn
Location: Infirmary
Timeline: Current

Karzen had been reluctant to move many of his things to the Ada Lovelace, since he had told "Colonel" Vedrum his agreement to join "Commander" Aleshanee's crew was contingent on the Maquis becoming a "legitimate" defense or security force. Karzen felt he should probably take the number of mental "air quotes" (there was another set) as a measure of his apprehensions about this next phase in his life. It wasn't as though the DMZ didn't need him. Would it be so bad to go to work for one of the more "official" (more mental air quotes) clincs that were popping up? Or to teach at the newly reopened medical school on Bajor? The answer to both of those questions was probably "yes". He really needed to stop with the mental "air quotes" already... Karzen harumphed. Then he heard and smelled something in the corridor.

"If you stop lurking outside the hatch and come in," Karzen growled loudly. "I promise not to engage in a C.A.T.U.A.! Don't worry if you don't know what a C.A.T.U.A is. I didn't either until just a moment ago. I just made it up. It stands for Completely and Totally Unnecessary Amputation. What do you think?" Karzen let loose an exaggerated sigh of exasperation. "In the name of Kahless the Unforgettable, lest he be Forgotten! Enter already!"

As Phelan approached the medbay, its resident seemed to already be aware of his presence. The acronym did throw him for a loop for a moment until it was defined, and then he let out a good laugh as he entered. "That's a good one! I know a few people who could use one of those." He moved farther into the room as he continued, almost more to himself than to the Klingon. "Or is it the rest of us who need those people to have one?" He shrugged as if discarding the whole train of thought for the moment. "And for the record, I wasn't lurking," he stated, still smiling. "Sniffing me before I even hit the door? That might not be a good thing if the individual outside was, oh I don't know, a Nausicaan?" He'd heard they had a smell, though he was one of the fortunate few who could proudly say that he had not been close enough to one to sniff them.

"It's not my fault I have a more sensitive nose than you do," Karzen said. "Blame my DNA, or rather my parents' DNA, or maybe my grandparents' DNA. But that's not important now. What can I do for you? A wave of a dermal regenerator? Analgesic? Perhaps a nice medicated deodorant, since you're so concerned about your bodily aromas? Or are you perhaps finally here for the physical I've insisted everyone see me for so we can start building some medical records for you all?"

This guy was going to be a hoot! Phelan chuckled and leaned his butt against the side of the nearby med table. "Well, I originally came for the physical, but I'm not opposed to the absolutely scintillating conversation that seems to come along with it."

"It works better if you lay down on it," Karzen said. "Go on. Get on the bed. I can multitask. I promise not to get distracted and accidentally press the euthanasia button."

Another laugh escaped Phelan as he sat on the bed then rotated to lie back. "Well, somehow I think you'd find that a bit... dull. I mean where is the fun in letting the tech do it for you, right?"

"Hmmm," Karzen made a non-committal noise. "Do you have any interesting medical issues? Any boring medical issues? Well, you have one boring medical issue. A vitamin deficiency. Not even original. Life in the resistance didn't provide many healthy meals. We'll take care of that. Any prior injuries?"

Phelan frowned. "Nothing that left any lasting physical problems," he answered truthfully, though this was spoken in a more somber tone than his usual light, irreverent one. "I had an ex who, apparently, regretted our getting together and decided to make me regret it too. But that was a good many years ago. The only scars that left aren't anything you can fix, sadly."

"Flight Officer Sabrehagen," Karzen said. "I am literally building your medical record from scratch, so let me try wording this differently. Have you had any broken bones, head injuries, concussions, serious illnesses? Regardless of whether or not you think they left any lasting medical problems. Have you had any surgeries? I know what the scan says, I want to know what you say. Oh, and since this isn't Starfleet, I can't assume the answer to this next question is no. Do you have any chronic medical conditions, diseases, disorders, dysfunctions, etc.? Again, I know what the scan says. I'm asking you what your recollections are."

This was the one part of initial Medical Evals Phelan hated. Not because he felt any shame or was concerned that he would be put off the ship. No, he just hated reliving that part of his past. It had been hell the first time. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment. "I apologize, Doctor. It wasn't my intention to be difficult." He knew the apology was ;ikely unnecessary, but it was his nature. "When I was twenty one, I got involved with a woman. We were together for seven years, and during that time, she put me in Medical several times. The last time, she almost killed me. I have the records of what was found and repaired on a data crystal if you'd like to review them." His eyes opened and fixed on Karzen's. "That ended twelve years ago, and I have had no residual effects. Other than that, I had the normal childhood illnesses that any Human living on Earth did. During my time in the Maquis, I've gotten off pretty easy, cuts, bruises, etc., but no really traumatic injuries. But then, I just fly; I'm not the front-line guy." He chuckled, but the sound lacked his usual humor. "Oh, and I broke my left arm once, but managed to get it repaired." He shrugged. That's all I can remember."

"I'll send you a secure link. You can upload the files directly to the ship's medical mainframe. No one has access to that but me," Karzen said. "As for traumatic injuries, it sounds like your former paramour caused quite a few. And I'm not just talking about the kind that show up on scans. You can talk about that or not, as you see fit; as long as it doesn't negatively impact your ability to do your job it's your choice." Karzen looked at Phelan's scans again, and took more notes. "I was a fighter pilot for several decades for the Nyberrite Alliance, and I still hold a Commercial Pilot License from the FAA (Federation Aerospace Administration). Everyone thinks we're safe, but if i zigged when I should have zagged, that was the start of a really bad day. I don't think ground pounders really understand that."

Phelan had not ignored Karzen's saying that he could talk about his ex if he wanted to; in fact, he appreciated it. But this was not the time for that, and Karzen was a physician, not a therapist, so Phelan saw no need to bore him with his problems. So he focused on the rest of the doctor's statements. He also felt grateful for the doctor's candor. He always preferred when people spoke plainly and didn't try to obfuscate or play head games. He nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "If you even survive the mistake." He agreed with a small chuckle. He then frowned in thought at the comment about ground pounders. "It's true though. I think they think because we're inside a fighter, we're safer." He chuckled a bit. "But out there," he made a motion that was meant to indicate space beyond the ship, "your best armor is your instincts."

"Yes," Karzen said. "Very true." He made some notes on his PaDD based on what he saw in the scans. "So, I have to ask everyone this. Have you ever had any type of social disease. That's a polite Terran way of saying 'venereal disease'. I have to ask because some of those have a way of sticking around and then returning at the least opportune moment. I'm not planning on having sex with you. Not my type, gender, or physical sex. But someone else might and I don't want to hear from an angry planetary leader that you've started an epidemic of Tholian Fire Crotch. I didn't make that one up, by the way. Tholian Fire Crotch is real and the name is literal. Tholian Fire Crotch literally sets your crotch on fire. Of course, you have to find a way to survive sex with a Tholian to get it, but... well, you get my point. Can't have you polluting the population while you're cross-pollinating at the local house of ill-repute."

That whole dissertation made Phelan laugh. No, he did not find either sexual diseases in general or the specific one funny. That was not what had amused him. No, it was the doctor's particular delivery of the information that had caused the amusement. "First, that sounds not only disturbing but agonizing. I'm mentally cringing just thinking about it. Though I had never considered sex with a Tholian, so..." He shrugged again. "But second, no, I haven't had any such diseases. I always made sure the individuals I 'cross-pollinated' with were clean." He let the assumption that he frequented such places go unanswered as, while it wasn't something he generally did, it was also not necessary for him to go out of his way to convince Karzen that he didn't. He didn't need to defend himself, and the doctor likely didn't care anyway... as long as Phelan didn't bring back any diseases. So he just didn't comment on that part.

"Hmmm," Karzen said, making more notes in his PaDD. "Feel free to sit up," he said, moving the bed's equipment so Phelan could rise. "You're all set. If you need anything, well, anything related to your physical, mental, or emotional health and safety, don't hesitate to come and see me."

Phelan sat, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. "Thanks, Doc," he said sincerely, sliding off the bed to stand beside it. "You're also a Counselor?" he asked, curiosity coming through in his tone. It wasn't that he necessarily thought it impossible, more that he had not expected it, though why not he didn't know. Many doctors out here on the fringes doubled as counselors.

"Not really," Karzen said. "But after I had been working in the field a while, often in places with proper mental health care available, I arranged to attend an accelerated residency in psychiatry, designed for primary care physicians to practice psychiatry as well, in the absence of full-time psychiatrists, psychiatric mental health nurse practitioners, psychiatric physician assistants, psychologists, social workers, mental health counselors..." Karzen laughed. "I was going to say 'you get the point' but I don't think I left any mental health profession out of that list. Wait, I forgot medical psychologists, who are psychologists who can prescribe psychiatric medications, but aren't medical doctors like psychologists are." Karzen shrugged. "Anyway, I've had to perform mental health counseling and psychiatric medicine duties over my career, and since this ship is too small to have a counselor aboard, I am giving myself that job as well."

Phelan chuckled with the other man then nodded. "I gotcha. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks again." After a momentary pause, he grinned, his playful streak coming back strong. "I'm not sure I'd tell too many people that, though. You might find yourself drowning in patients."

"I doubt I'll drown in patients," Karzen said. "Because I have an overabundance of patience, all evidence to the contrary. Good day, Flight Officer Phelan. Do watch your head. I'd rather no one concuss themselves on a low hung coolant pipe or something before we even leave DS9."

Phelan chuckled, both at Karzen's joke about patients versus patience -- that was the kind of wordplay Phelan often engaged in himself -- but also at the final comment. "Yeah, not sure I want that either. I mean, first there's the headache, and then there'd be the lecture. Have a good day, Doctor." Thus saying, he made his way from the medical bay with a pleasant smile and a wave. He liked the doctor; the man had a good sense of humor. That was always a good thing in these circumstances.

 

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