Any Time Now...

Posted on Wed Dec 10th, 2025 @ 9:59pm by Chief Warrant Officer Karzen Son of Arjune, Son of Ragan MD, MPH & Sergeant Benjamin "Ben" Hall

1,739 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: A New Dawn
Location: Infirmary
Timeline: Current

Karzen was getting weary of waiting for the rest of the crew to make time for physicals. They were still at DS9. There were plenty of things he could be, and would rather be, doing than sitting around in the ship's little infirmary. Enough was enough. He hit the 'all call' button on the comm unit in his office.

"If you haven't had a physical," he said, as his voice echoed throughout the ship, "Get your ass to the Infirmary, forthwith... RFN even. And if you don't know what RFN means: The 'R' stands for 'Right', the 'N' stands for 'Now', and I'm sure you can figure out what the ''F' stands for. Karzen, out."


On his way to the mess hall, Ben stopped short at the announcement echoing through the corridor. He closed his eyes for a brief second. "Grozit," he muttered in his native tongue, turning on his heel and heading straight back toward the infirmary.

A short moment later, Ben stepped through the infirmary doors, letting them close behind him with a soft hiss. He knew this space well: the layout, the equipment, the familiar hum of diagnostics at idle. What he didn’t know was the new doctor who’d just barked a shipwide summons like he was rallying a platoon.

He paused just inside the threshold, not out of intimidation but out of habit; you didn’t stride into someone else’s workspace uninvited, especially when you hadn’t met them yet. His hands folded behind his back, posture steady, relaxed, and unmistakably unruffled.

“Doctor,” he said, even-toned and firm. “Sergeant Ben Hall, reporting for my physical.”

"I will do no harm or injustice to them," Karzen muttered to himself. "Advance, Sergeant," Karzen said aloud. "And be recognized. The latter is a figure of speech rather than a reality. I've never met you before in my life and wouldn't know you from the Grand Nagus. Regardless, welcome. I'd welcome you in the name of someone, but I've been doing that a lot lately and one mustn't risk irritating those in whose name you proclaim things. It's rude." Karzen pointed at one of the biobeds. "Lay down, please," he said.

Ben stepped forward when addressed, the corner of his mouth tightening into something that wasn’t quite a smile but close enough to pass for one. Karzen’s rapid-fire commentary wasn’t what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the strangest welcome he’d ever received aboard a starship, either.

“Aye, sir,” he said simply.

He crossed to the indicated biobed and eased himself onto it, moving carefully but without rushing. The cushions shifted slightly under his weight as he settled back, hands resting loosely at his sides. He kept his gaze forward: attentive, neutral, giving the doctor space to do whatever came next without crowding him with questions.

Ben hadn’t met Karzen before today, but one thing was already clear: the man didn’t need help filling the silence. So Ben offered none, waiting calmly for the exam to begin.

"Lay still while I run the scans please," Karzen said. "Hmmm, I see. Interesting. Tell me about your medical history. Any major illnesses, injuries, wounds? Have you contracted any virulent veneral diseases? Have you ever been pregnant? Have you ever contracted a virulent venereal disease while pregnant? Do you bathe regularly? Have you ever contracted the Carnilian Creeping Crud or an adjacent illness?"

Ben angled his head just enough to catch the doctor in his peripheral vision. “Before I answer all that… how about you go first?” he asked evenly.

"I am a veritable paragon of good health and wise life decisions," Karzen said. "I get all compatible vaccinations regularly, choose my sexual partners carefully, and bathe my genitals regularly and thoroughly, ruling out the Carnillian Creeping Crud. Your turn."

Ben blinked once, absorbing the doctor’s proud declaration of pristine personal hygiene. "…Right. Well, I’m not a walking case study either. No venereal diseases, no creeping anything. A few fractures over the years, and the scar; early run-in with someone who didn’t like me much. No lingering issues."

He paused. "And like you, I also bathe regularly and thoroughly. Glad we could bond over that."

"Good to hear," Karzen said. Sarcasm was either lost on this one, or he'd just made an attempt at it. Karzen really didn't care which. The old Klingon made some notes on his PaDD. "And how has your mood been lately?" The boy seemed well adjusted enough. The scar probably gave some people a particular impression of Ben, but Karzen, whose facial features could best be described as ten kilometers of bad road, didn't judge. Well, he was a 104 year old Klingon/Rihannsu hybrid. Karzen absolutely judged. But he didn't shame.

Things in the DMZ had gotten pretty dark when the final treaties of the Cardassian Border Wars were signed in 2370 and the DMZ was created. The plan was... well, to be honest, the plan was as awful in theory as it turned out to be in practice. To create the "Demilitarized Zone" Federation colonists were supposed to evacuate worlds that were ceded to the Cardassians and vice versa, and neither Starfleet nor the Cardassian Central Command were permitted to send forces into the Zone. Except only some of the colonists on either side wanted to leave. While Central Command secretly armed the Cardassian colonists in the Zone, Starfleet and the Federation effectively abandoned Federation colonists who chose to remain in the Zone. The Maquis formed to fight back and ended up fighting everybody, outgunned and outmanned at every turn. The conflict brought out the best in some of the Maquis, and the worst in others. Most just did their best to survive. No one came out of something like that emotionally unscarred. Karzen hadn't been Maquis, but he'd been a doctor in what became the DMZ for decades. He'd lived through all of the hard times there, through all of the border conflicts and wars, caring for the casualties, the displaced, the downtrodden. He'd earned scars of his own, both the kind you see and the kind you don't.

Ben had drawn in a slow breath. It'd been a while since he'd been asked that question.

“Pretty steady," he answered. "I don’t let things fester, and I don’t fly off the handle. " not anymore... "I had some rough patches when I was younger, but I’m not that kid anymore. These days, I keep myself in check.”

His tone stayed even. “If something was off, I’d say so.” He meant it.

"Well," Karzen said. "Should that change, I am available to discuss whatever issues you are having. I have training and experience in caring for more than just the physical health and safety of my patients. Needs must in frontier medicine and all that. I'm not here to pry into your life for no good reason. If you need to process things or just vent, I'm not a half-bad listener and my problem solving skills aren't bad either. If nothing else, I'm just over a century old. I must have picked up at least a few good pieces of advice over the decades." Karzen could tell he would have to keep an eye on this one, much like he would on all of the crew, for that matter. They'd all suffered significant trauma. Physical, mental, emotional, spiritual. They'd been hurt in a way that would take a long time to heal. And Karzen would be there to help see them through it. Despite cultivating the image that he was a grumpy old man who claimed to wish everyone would get and stay the Hell off of his fucking well-groomed lawn, Karzen was really just an old country doctor who took good care of his community. In this case, that meant the crew of the Ada Lovelace.

Ben listened without shifting, his gaze steady on the ceiling while Karzen spoke. The offer wasn’t what he expected, not after the barrage of questions and the cranky broadcast. But there was something solid underneath it. Experienced. Earnest. He recognized that kind of thing when he heard it.

When the doctor finished, Ben turned his eyes toward him again, just enough to show he wasn’t brushing it off. "Appreciate that, sir," he said. "Good to know." And it was. He didn’t think he’d need it; he handled his own problems and always had, but there was nothing wrong with having someone in the wings who knew their way around more than a tricorder.

Still, he wasn’t about to spill his guts to a man he’d met ten minutes ago. That wasn’t who he was, and it wasn’t what was being asked of him. But he made a mental note: not of weakness, not of worry, just... awareness. The doctor might be strange, blunt, and older than most of the furniture on the ship, but he cared. That much was obvious.

Ben settled his shoulders a bit deeper into the biobed, and he was calm again. "I’ll keep it in mind," he added, with a steady tone, honest, without committing to anything he didn’t mean. And he would. If it ever came to that. But for now, it was just a physical... and he was ready for the next question.

"You may rise, Sergeant," Karzen said. "And go upon your way, merry or otherwise, as you see fit. We're done for today."

Ben sat up smoothly when dismissed, swinging his legs over the side of the biobed. “Appreciate the exam, Doctor,” he said, adjusting the hem of his shirt as he stood. He paused a moment, not uncertain, just taking the measure of the man. Karzen was odd, sure, but solid underneath it. Someone worth knowing.

"If you’re ever looking to unwind after a shift," he said, tone easy, "I usually grab a beer in the mess. You’re welcome to join me sometime."

"I may take you up on that, Sergeant," Karzen said. "As long as you don't insist I drink bloodwine. That swill is vile!"

Ben couldn't help but laugh to himself. "I don’t touch the stuff either," he said, and was still smiling as he gave a respectful nod. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Doctor." With that, he turned towards the door, leaving at a leisurely pace.

 

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