Coffee and CureC'ss'l of Calhoun and featuring Beverly Crusher (as played by Liz Bethell) and Private Zelany Cassiel stood in front of the bio bed staring at his patient. Fothen's Syndrome. No, he had no way of knowing in the amount of time he'd had before Byron succumbed but that didn't make it any better with his physician's brain. Still, he'd pored over all the information Kawee (Gods bless that woman) had found for him then sent word ahead to DS9, hoping the authors of any of that work would be available. An actual case, Beverly couldn't believe it. She'd had word sent through DS9 and then buttered up Jean-Luc to get him to lend her a shuttle to make her way there. Fortunately they'd only been a few hours away so as she steered her little vessel to one of the docks, she asked the computer to patch her through to the doctor who'd sent the alert out. He'd stopped jumping out of his skin at the sound of comm chimes but they still irritated him. Still, he fought that back as he made his way to the main console. Tapping the open comm button, he simply said, "Tempest, Calhoun speaking," without looking . "Another Calhoun in Starfleet," Beverly grinned. "I'm Dr. Beverly Crusher, I got the alert you sent out about Fothen's Syndrome and came as soon as I could get Jean-Luc to stop fussing." Cassiel hmmphed slightly. Whoever Jean-Luc was..."Cassiel Calhoun," he said. He might have smiled at the older woman, pretty still for a Human her age, but he was in no mood for niceties just yet. "I knew nothing of the condition to begin with. If you could come over and take a look, I'd appreciate it and so'd the captain." "Let me just dock and I'll beam straight to your transporter room," she told him as she heard the final approach warning from the computer. "Ten minutes." "I'll be here," he said simply. He cut the comm then stared at Byron's still form. "Lying around just waiting for beautiful women to show up instead of me, eh? Hang on a few more, friend." The fizzling of the transporter brought Beverly to a place she hadn't expected. Instead of to the transporter room, she found herself in the clean space of a Sick Bay. "Nice trick," she muttered. She fixed her eyes on the gaunt figure that had to be the CMO and marched over, med kit over one shoulder. "Dr Crusher," she said as she offered him her hand. "Your Transport Chief has a sense of humour." Cassiel saw that Stan had his hand on the side arm, even if they were expecting visitors. He definitely couldn't fault the man on his vigilance. He waved the Marine back and gingerly took the woman's hand. "Calhoun," he said simply. "and the transport chief responds well to threats about not getting you here properly. Thanks for coming." "I couldn't pass up the chance to work on an actual patient. It's been years since I've seen even one case," she said, already moving to look over the man in the bed. "Is this him? How long has it been this bad?" "This is Byron Matthews, our ship's counselor," he corrected. Every patient had a name and was not a number of specimen. "He's been in this stasis stare for a while. He just collapsed suddenly. I had no idea he was afflicted before that." "Sorry," Beverly offered. "Is it noted in his medical records, do you know?" Cassiel stared at her with bright hazel eyes. "I was not aboard long before that and didn't have time to review all the crew records," he said tersely. Beverly raised her head slowly, fixing him with her own flat stare. "A simple 'no, I don't know' would have been sufficient, Doctor. Would you mind if I checked myself, since I'm here at your request." "By all means," he said, stepping back a pace. He let out a soft sigh. He knew now but it didn't really help. The hell did I need sleep for when I should have been studying? "Do what you need to do and my nurses are at your disposal." "Would you believe me if I said it's a simple enough treatment but has to be kept up over a period of six to twelve months," she mused, accessing the relevant files and hmphing softly. "Though at this advanced stage, I'd recommend him for a transferral to an Alpha Quadrant based mission. That way he can be rushed to a bigger medical facility if he needs it." She blinked as she read his file. "This says he's a civilian." "He is," Cassiel finally said. "He is our ship's counselor. We have, had actually, two of them. The Fleet one did a very compassionate but foolish thing and ended up frying her brain. Dr. Matthews here...I don't think he knew about the treatments. He didn't strike me as the fatalistic sort." "They're new," Beverly said absently. "But they're designed for long term support not the immediate treatment of terminal cases." She lifted her eyes and stared right at Cassiel. "He needs to be moved. I'm going to be requesting this man is put under my direct care. If you would prefer, you can come with me and remain his physician." "If the informed consent rule still applies, I'm taking the responsibilty to make the decision for Dr. Matthews. By all means, treat him where ever it's necessary," Cassiel told her, not looking away. "I've had enough of death and dying. Somebody needs to live if there's a way." "There is but he needs better facilities than you have here. DS9 has the right equipment that I can calibrate," she said. "Help me get him ready to move." That was easy enough. Portable stasis shields, anti grav stretcher with the support arch in place..."I can't stay with him, though, Dr. Crusher. I stay where my fiancee is." "There's good communications between here and the Gamma Quadrant." Beverly shrugged and added, "The intensive treatment only lasts 24 hours. Then we resuscitate him and see what brain damage has been done. It should be limited if there is any. From the records, you got to him quickly and he's been kept in stasis." "After five years of..." He trailed off. It was cold. Lonely. The smell of fear, pain, and death from over two hundred men. Not a spot of softness or anything sweet. H's'l'ng. He shook his head, realizing he'd wandered off again. "No, being away from her is no option at all," he said softly. "And the thanks goes to my nurses and the patient who'd gone to see him. Mr. Ross did the right thing and quickly." Beverly saw the momentary lapse and ignored it completely, no point reducing the man's dignity any further than had been done already. It was respect that was needed. "I don't give praise where it isn't deserved, Doctor," she told him softly. "Take it when it's offered." "In that case, thanks," he said quietly. He shrugged thin shoulders. "It's good to be doing actual medical work rather than patchwork healing and surgery due to inhumane cruelty." "I don't envy you your job, Dr Calhoun," Beverly admitted. "Is there anything else I can help you with before we transfer Dr Matthews?" He shook his head carefully, mindful of still aching joints. "The men are all being transferred home or to further medical facilities," he said with a sigh as he ran a hand through his still thin blond hair. "In fact, the man who had Dr. Matthews sent to me was one of the prisoners. I had to amputate his arm or he was going to die." "Y'know, if he wants a new one, I have a few contacts that could give him one that would work just as well if not better than his old one," she mused, packing up her med kit. "Yeah? Any of the research I've seen makes the limbs look like just what he didn't want: a tacked on robotic arm," Cassiel told her. "That's why I'd sent him to the counselor to begin with. Who's doing something so advanced?" "A woman called General Quon. Her work isn't well known of, not exactly top-secret, but not publicly available. I know because I have higher clearance than most. Let me give you her details and you can get in contact with her. Just tell her I sent you and she'll help." He chuckled at the title. "A Marine? My H's'l'ng will be tickled at that," he said, finally smiling. It was a fine thing to actually be doing something to help. "I'll take you up on that. If Mr. Ross wants to have the limb replaced, I'll certainly get him to her." She took one of the PADDs on the side and entered the details then gave it to him. "Last I heard she was on Earth, Hong Kong. But I don't tend to keep tabs on her." "Thank you," Cassiel said soberly. "For this and for Dr. Matthews. I have a lot of catching up to do and this is a start." "Let's get Dr Matthews moved and then maybe you can buy me a coffee," she said with a bright, dashing smile. "I bet you've got lots of stories." "Coffee? Gods but I haven't had any in years! I think I could handle that by now," he said brightly, a familiar rakish smile appearing. "Private Zelany has to come along for now, though. They don't trust me with certain people and neither do I." "Oh but I wouldn't dream of leaving the Private here all by himself. Do you drink coffee, Private?" Beverly asked. "Yes, ma'am. My cap's got a thing for it when fresh and he's got the whole company addicted," Stan replied. "Good man!" Beverly winked at Cassiel as she tapped her comm. "DS9, this is Dr Crusher. Prepare to beam four to your medical bay." "You'll be well when you wake up, Byron," Cassiel said, one thin hand resting on his patient. |
