Medical

Posted on Fri Sep 25th, 2026 @ 8:57am by Lieutenant Commander Melanie D'BrooNi- Haistro & Captain Mhiess Hru’da

1,438 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Bloodline
Location: Sickbay, USS Saratoga
Timeline: 2439-08-12,

One thing Mel did like about a CO was when they decided to "lead the charge" so to speak. Having the Captain booked in early for his medical meant that he set the precedence for the rest of the staff making it harder for them to try avoid or put off their appointments.

She had everything ready, and was sipping on her latte waiting for him to arrive. It seemed all her staff were aware and there was an atmosphere of excitement, many of them not having had the chance to see or meet the new Captain as of yet.

The double doors parted with a muffled chime, admitting Captain Mhiess Hru’da to the primary ward. He didn't mind the mandatory physical; getting it cleared early was simply sound logistics, eliminating a future line item from his schedule and setting the expected standard for the crew.

His dark, calculating gaze made a swift circuit of the bay, noting the subtle shift in focus among the duty staff as he crossed the threshold. The hum of medical displays was punctuated by the distinct aroma of roasted coffee, a quiet luxury in a space built for clinical precision.

"Doctor," Mhiess greeted calmly, his baritone cutting through the low ambient chatter. "I believe I am on your schedule for my boarding evaluation."

"Welcome to Sickbay Captain, yes we have your appointment scheduled. If you would follow me," the Trill said.

"How are you settling in sir?" she asked as they walked towards the bio bed.

"Efficiently," Mhiess replied, his measured pace matching hers as they navigated the pristine pathways of the primary ward. He gestured subtly back toward the doorway leading to the corridors. "The ship’s infrastructure is impressively responsive. The transition from drydock to operational readiness is proceeding perfectly."

He halted beside the designated biobed, his attention lingering for a fraction of a second on the blue-tinted bio-function monitors overhead before he seamlessly pivoted and sat back against the mattress. The crisp, clean scent of antiseptic mingled with the subtle, warm undertones of her latte.

"I prefer to establish a baseline early, Doctor," Mhiess continued, placing his forearms over his knees as he looked directly at the Trill Chief Medical Officer. "For both the vessel's systems and the crew responsible for keeping her running. I trust your department is adequately provisioned?"

"Very much so," Mel said. "The medical research lab was finished installed today and my new genetics sequencer equipment is top of the line," she commented as she operated the biobed. "Shall we find out if everything is running adequately for yourself?"

A faint, unreadable tilt touched the Captain's jaw as the medical scanner hummed to life overhead, its soft beam tracing across his broad shoulders. Sitting tall against the biobed, Mhiess maintained his impassive, stoic posture, his dark Romulan-Klingon eyes observing the Trill doctor with quiet, calculating focus. "Proceed, Doctor," Mhiess replied, his deep baritone rumbling steadily through the quiet bay. "Though I assure you, my cardiovascular and neural baselines remain optimal. Efficiency is not merely a preference in my command, it's a requirement. If my Chief Medical Officer has the finest laboratory equipment in the fleet, I expect my crew to remain in peak operational condition to match it."

"You're my first Klingon/Romulan hybrid sir," Mel said. "I mean I studied a couple of files on hybrid biology at the academy but it's interesting how each different one can end up with a different number of lungs, livers and stomachs. You got the 3rd Klingon lung. I bet that really helps with your stamina. Did you get the Klingon heightened sense of smell as well?" she asked.

Mhiess’s stoic expression remained immovably calm, though a sharp, analytical glint flickered in his eyes as the tricorder hummed over his chest. Discussing his mixed heritage was rarely a topic he invited, but within the clinical boundaries of a medical examination, he treated the inquiry with the same detached objectivity he applied to starship schematics.

"I did," Mhiess replied smoothly, his baritone steady and low. "The redundant pulmonary architecture provides a distinct physiological advantage in high-stress tactical environments, though I assure you, Doctor, my Romulan sense of discipline ensures those instincts remain under absolute cognitive control." He leaned back slightly as the medical scanner completed its primary sweep, his posture composed yet imposing against the biobed. "As for sensory acuity... yes, the olfactory sense is heightened, which makes the scent of your replicated coffee particularly distinct in a sterile ward; however, I trust my biological profile will prove uncomplicated for your records. I expect my medical file to reflect full duty clearance, without unnecessary physical restrictions."

"I'm sure we will get there sir," Mel said. She didn't say it out loud but was quite astonished to see the doubling up of Klingon organs in his reproductive system. He was not going to have any issues having kids if he so desired and with a number of species.

He had the additional ribs as well. All in all he seemed to have won the hybrid lottery. The cases she had looked at had less of the more useful evolutions.

"How are you sleeping?" she asked. "And you look to have a bruise according to the sensors on your left shoulder. What happened there?"

"Sleep is adequate," Mhiess replied smoothly, his baritone maintaining its even, unbothered cadence as he met Dr. Mel's gaze. "A steady four hours of REM cycle per standard day is more than sufficient for my metabolic recovery."

He shifted slightly on the biobed, rolling his left shoulder with a slow, deliberate flex. The dark Romulan-Klingon eyes didn't flinch as the scanner mapped the minor soft-tissue contusion. "The mark on the shoulder was sustained during a close-quarters tactical drill in the holodeck prior to boarding," he explained with clinical detachment, dismissing the injury as a triviality. "An unyielding opponent and a minor miscalculation in joint clearance. It does not impact joint mobility or physical readiness."

He held his arm steady as the scanner ran its final verification over his upper torso. "I trust the biological variance in my skeletal density and muscle mass presents no further complications for your baseline diagnostic, Doctor?"

"There's no complications sir. Just professional interest," she told him making some notes on the sleep cycle he had mentioned. "How's your diet?" she asked.

"Basic, high-protein, and unprocessed," Mhiess answered calmly, his deep baritone carrying the same steady detachment he used for ship's telemetry. "I do not consume food for leisure or recreation, Doctor; I treat nutrition as fuel for metabolic efficiency. Meat, root vegetables, and plain water or black tea form the core of my daily intake. It keeps my physiological baseline stable without subjecting my digestive system to synthetic processing delays."

He sat patiently as the medical displays updated, his dark eyes observing the Trill doctor with quiet, calculating composure. "The galley has already been briefed on these requirements. Unless your diagnostic indicates a nutritional deficiency, I intend to maintain that regimen."

"I would say you need some more dairy. Your calcium is low, well for your age," she said. "I can prescribe boosters but natural would be better if you can incorporate it into your diet."

"Understood, Doctor," Mhiess acknowledged smoothly. The concept of adjusting his strict, functional regimen for something as trivial as dietary preference held no appeal to the Captain, but a medical recommendation regarding core skeletal density was an operational parameter he could not readily dismiss.

"I will direct Crewman O'Malley to incorporate the necessary calcium sources into my standard meal preparations... naturally, without compromising the basic composition of the menu." He swung his legs over the side of the biobed with fluid, deliberate grace as he looked at the Trill Chief Medical Officer, "I assume my diagnostic file is now complete? Am I cleared for duty?"

"Yes but I would like to retest your calcium levels in a couple of months," Mel said reaching for her PADD and signing off the COs paperwork.

"Acceptable," Mhiess replied, rising smoothly from the biobed to his full height. He adjusted the hem of his command tunic with a single, precise tug, his stoic posture completely restored. "Thank you for your efficiency. Please schedule the follow-up for six weeks out, Doctor, I prefer to maintain a predictable calendar."

"Excellent Captain," Mel said. "I will certainly get that scheduled in."

"I'll hold you to that schedule, Doctor," Mhiess stated as he adjusted his command tunic. "If there is nothing more, I have rounds to complete?"

"Nothing further Captain," Mel said, "Have a nice day."

RSS Feed