Check up in Confinement

Posted on Thu Aug 13th, 2020 @ 7:55am by Lieutenant Avira zh'Kenarh M.D. & Ensign Michael Sloan

Mission: Mission 3 - 100
Location: Brig
Timeline: MD40 - 11:00 hours
1379 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

The days seemed to run together at this point. It was only occasionally broken up by the ship being rocked with what had to be Vrav fire. The former Chief Armory Officer kept count of the days by reading works of literature on a PADD that he was given and marking a tally every third meal to denote the days. A glance to the chart showed him that he had been in confinement for two weeks. Only a few people had actually ventured into the Brig to talk to him outside the requirements of their duties. It was hurtful, but at the same time the man could not fault them for their aversion.

It had been odd to her that the man she was going to visit had been allowed to stay onboard the vessel, but as long as he was there Avira had received pretty clear instructions from her Chief, he was to receive all the care and comfort that they could give him. That meant regular checks of his physical and mental state, especially since there was little room for movement and exercise. She put her scanner and PADD in front of the brig officer so that he could determine they were harmless devices used for the man's health and not as an aid in any escape plan. Once satisfied the brig officer opened the door to Sloan's cell. Avira's antennae stood up straight, denoting a cautious approach of the man in the room.

Hearing the door open to the Brig section, Michael sat up to see who had come to see him. It was not yet time for food, so that left either medical or a visitor to ask why did what he did. Looking to the door, he saw an Andorian female, which meant only one thing. Medical check-in. Seeing the cautious nature of the doctor's approach, Michael simply said, "I'm not going to hurt you, or anyone." He had thought for a moment to try an attempt at a joke to ease the tension, but if he were honest being viewed as an enemy was starting to wear him down.

"I'm here for your check-up, how are they treating you?" Avira ignored his comment, internally cursing her antennae for giving so much away of her inner thoughts and feelings. She got out her medical tricorder and started a scan to measure the man's blood pressure while she tried to keep the conversation going.

"I get fed and watered as needed," Michael tried to smile at his own plant joke. In truth, he had been treated well. He was not neglected, but he was not thriving either. "I'm feeling better too, I can actually lay on my side without waking up in pain," he pointed out.

"That's good to hear," Avira took a look at the medical history that had been written up by her predecessor, "I'll be taking over for Doctor Seong. Is there anything I should be aware of? Preexisting medical conditions? Allergies?"

"Not that I know of," Sloan shook his head. Adding his meaning, Michael admitted, "Though I am learning more and more about myself every day. Until all of this, I didn't know that I am really two people shoved into one body."

"Which is an interesting condition in and of itself," Avira didn't quite know what to say about that without conjuring up all the messy connotations that came with that, "must be very confusing." She was still going through the medical record on her PADD and didn't look up to make eye contact with the man in the cell.

"It is," Michael replied. "I remember two lives perfectly but don't know which one I actually lived," he added. "But, that is enough about me, I hope the crew is doing well," he tried to ask. He was once the Chief Armory Officer and Acting First Officer. He still cared about them even in his current situation.

Avira frowned and looked up at the man, "I'm here for you, mister Slaon," she had decided to forego the use of his rank in light of the current circumstances, "it must be difficult being caught in here, with you hands tied, so to say." She had to get a proper assessment of his mental well being as well, something she would have never guessed would be part of her job description. Luckily she had the morale officer for some of the other tasks that were involved with that as well. Which reminded her to attend one of his organised team activities in the future.

"I appreciate that," Michael started. "Very much." Looking down and then back at the doctor, " he asked, "I didn't mean to let anyone down. I just want to get everyone home, but I don't know what they put in my head. I want to know I'm not a danger to myself or anyone here." It was a true statement. Even with his mind being torn into two lives, he hoped figuring out what happened would go a long way to help him.

"These are very difficult things to ascertain, especially now that you know there could be things hidden inside your brain. How can you be sure if you're not a danger if you're not even fully sure of who you actually are?" Avira hoped that she was understanding the man well and that by having this conversation with him he would be more willing and able to explore those thoughts and feelings. Giving them a proper place in his mind, sort through them, "unfortunately the facilities onboard this vessel aren't quite sufficient to help with any advanced neural modifications." Maybe if she had access to the Andorian Military Hospital, or Starfleet Medical, they would stand a chance at fixing his mind, but on this vessel, 100 years from home, there was simply no way.

"That is true, and I don't know if something else can trigger me," Michael replied thoughtfully, even though most of those thoughts were filled with worry. "But, if this mind thing happened under normal circumstances, we may not have even made it to an advanced medical facility," he motioned toward his head, "Like you said, I don't know everything that was put or hidden up here." Looking back to the blue doctor, the prisoner asked, "Do you think I'll ever be normal?"

Avira smiled a bit at that, "That really depends on your definition of normal, in a sense I can never hope to be normal myself under our current circumstances, surrounded by 80 people that are not 'my people'. A select few of which were considered the sworn enemies of my people not even a decade ago." Nothing about any of this would be helpful towards creating normality, "Having to consolidate two separate instances and experiences in one person will be very difficult. But if you can reach an equilibrium, a sense of self somewhere in the middle, then there's some normality to be found in that."

"That," Michael began. "That does make sense," he added. Looking to the doctor, he tried to smile as he said, "I don't care what the Vulcans say, you Andorians are all right." His smile faded as he began to think about what she had said.

The antennae on Avira's head perked up and that, and a devious smile flashed over her features, "Well, you lot are not too bad yourselves." She recomposed herself after realizing who it was she was talking to, "You seem to be in good medical condition, Mister Sloan," she quickly spoke to wipe away the sense of familiarity between them, "nothing to worry about, physically speaking." She closed the document on her padd and look up at the man, "I can assign some additional resources to tend to your mental wellbeing if you would so desire."

"Please," Michael hurriedly agreed. "I can't take just looking at these walls anymore," he added. Looking back to the Andorian and knowing that he had overstepped the line, he finished with, "And doctor, thank you."

"I'm simply doing my job, Mister Sloan," Avira gave a small polite bow before stepping away from the jailcell and signalled the attending security officer to close it down again, "I'll make sure someone comes over and checks on you."