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Posted on 16 Feb 2026 @ 5:28am by Lieutenant Jorik & Lieutenant Commander Riah Amberlyn XMD

2,183 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Silent Inheritance
Location: Sickbay - USS Arawyn
Timeline: Just after the Medical Staff Meeting on 2426.02.01

Timeline Note: Backlog. This takes place immediately after Amberlyn addresses her department about their abandonment of the Sickbay while she was on shore leave.

~~~

// Sickbay :: Amberlyn's Office //

Jorik paused outside the frosted glass doors marked “Chief Medical Officer.”

The space beyond the main sickbay reception was quieter now than it had been during the earlier staff briefing; the low murmur of departing nurses and technicians had faded, leaving only the steady ambient hum of biobed monitors and the faint ozone scent of recent plasma sterilization cycles. He had arrived on the Arawyn less than forty-eight hours prior, and already the medical complex—far larger and more compartmentalized than any standard ship-board sickbay he had served in—felt like a system still calibrating to his presence.

The morning’s meeting had been… illuminating. Commander Amberlyn’s assessment of the department’s recent lapse in coverage had been delivered with the clarity and force one expected from a senior physician who had returned from shore leave to find her primary facility unattended. Jorik had sat in his seat with assembled staff, silent and attentive, noting the pointed glances directed his way despite his recent arrival. He had not yet been assigned a shift rotation, had not received a formal orientation packet, and had no prior knowledge of who held duty oversight in the CMO’s absence. Logic dictated that the criticism was misdirected in his case—yet logic did not negate the inefficiency it revealed in the department’s chain of command. He had come to correct that variable now.

He pressed the entry chime. The doors parted with a soft pneumatic hiss, revealing the CMO’s office. Jorik stepped inside, hands clasped behind his back, posture erect.

“Lieutenant Commander Amberlyn,” he said, voice even and precise. “Lieutenant Jorik reporting as ordered for initial departmental check-in and orientation. I apologize for the delay; I was unaware of protocol during your absence on the surface.”

He waited, expression impassive, though a faint internal calculation continued: how best to demonstrate competence without appearing defensive, and how quickly he could restore operational efficiency to a department that—by all indications—had been running on assumptions rather than structure.

Riah stood, her intuition prickling. "Welcome, Lieutenant Jorik. Would you care for a cuppa tea?" she asked.

“Vulcan spice tea,” Jorik replied evenly. “Any blend would suffice.”

Riah proceeded to obtain the two cups of tea from the small replicator behind her desk. "Please have a seat, Lieutenant." She indicated one of the two occasional chairs in the office. Riah moved to sit in the other chair. "My apologies your first visit here lacked a proper welcome. Thank you for picking up the slack with Lieutenant Caldwell."

Jorik accepted the cup—its warmth registering against his palms as a minor but welcome constant—and lowered himself into the chair with precise posture. They both sipped in brief silence; the tea was adequate, though the replicator’s approximation of Vulcan blends always carried a subtle synthetic aftertaste.

“I would like to clarify my actions regarding Lieutenant Caldwell’s treatment,” he said, voice level and unhurried. “The personnel transfer and subsequent duty assumption occurred outside standard Starfleet protocol. Official check-in and orientation procedures were not completed prior to my engagement with departmental responsibilities. In the absence of assigned shift oversight and with the medical complex unattended, I proceeded on the basis of medical necessity and chain-of-command continuity. If this constituted an overstep, it was necessitated by the observed inefficiency rather than intent to circumvent authority.”

He paused, allowing the statement to settle—factual, not defensive, yet leaving no ambiguity that the lapse had originated before his arrival.

“The department’s coverage failure this morning was noted during the briefing. I am prepared to receive any formal directives regarding shift assignments, orientation protocols, or outstanding priorities to ensure future alignment with established procedures.”

Jorik folded his hands in his lap, posture unchanged. The lattice of his mind remained steady; the morning’s reprimand had been misdirected in his case, but logic required acknowledgment of the systemic variable. He waited for Commander Amberlyn’s response, ready to integrate whatever recalibration she deemed necessary.

Riah listened carefully. His Vulcan delivery of his statement was not so much confusing as just unfamiliar. She took that in stride and replied in her usual easy informal manner.

"First, I'm sorry your arrival coincided with my being off-ship on shore leave. Had I realized you would be arriving, I would have change my plans and been here when you stepped off the transporter pad. And in my absence, you should have been met by Dr McDavid. However, Dr McDavid was delayed in his arrival to Sickbay. Had he been present, Sickbay would have been operating at is proper level during shore leave operation. "

She paused, then smiled.

"That is water under the bridge, as we say, and we move on with a new resolve and much deeper understanding of what is expected in this department. Now, as to your overstepping. There was no overstep on your part. You took care of a patient in need in the absence of a properly staffed sickbay. That was indeed the proper action."

Jorik inclined his head fractionally, the gesture economical and precise. Commander Amberlyn’s informal cadence and human idioms were noted without judgment—merely registered as cultural variance. The clarification settled one minor variable: the perceived breach of protocol had not originated with him—all of it had preceded his first shift.

The lattice of his mind accepted the resolution cleanly… yet the structure itself remained subtly compromised. Meditation had failed him repeatedly over the last several days. Intrusive thoughts—persistent, looping, tied to a single name—continued to leak through the grid despite every standard centering technique. The walls held, but they were not yet at full integrity. He catalogued the instability without alarm, as one would note elevated cortisol levels in a patient: a condition requiring correction, not panic.

“Understood, Commander,” he replied, voice level and uninflected. “Your assessment aligns with the observed facts. I am gratified that my intervention is deemed consistent with departmental expectations.”

He lifted the tea cup once more, took a measured sip—the faint synthetic edge of the replicated K’vath still present—then set it aside.

“With the matter resolved, I am prepared to assume full duties. I request assignment to the current shift rotation, any outstanding cases within my areas of specialization and any relevant updates concerning the recurring plasma burns and electrical injuries reported by engineering. If the pattern persists, I am equipped to provide advanced diagnostics or recommend preventive protocols.”

Jorik’s hands returned to his lap, posture unchanged.

Amberlyn listened carefully. "I think what you are saying is you would like to be scheduled immediately, are prepared to take on all your regular responsibilities, including those related to your specialties, and are particularly interested in Lieutenant Caldwell's recovery, and concerned about other injuries arising in Engineering. Is that accurate?"

Jorik inclined his head once, the motion minimal and deliberate, acknowledging the paraphrase without need for elaboration.

“That is accurate, Commander,” he replied, voice level and precise. “I am prepared to assume duties immediately upon your authorization. I am ready to review patient files, consult on diagnostics, or assume primary care as required.”

"Ok. I think we are on the same page. The Department yeoman, CPO Engerman does the scheduling for us, so I'll have her run you into the regular rotation. We have an Annex Sickbay on Deck 16, and we all rotate through there. It's only open for 9 hours daily, from 0800 to 1700. Dr McDavid prefers an evening shift in here and Dr Kim generally does his research while covering the Gamma shift in this main clinic. I have requested an additional doctor coming to serve as my Assistant Chief Medical Officer, but I'm not sure when they will arrive.

"For this current 5 day stretch, why don't you work in main Sickbay during Alpha shift, getting to know people and processes and the space itself. If things get slow, head down to the Annex and introduce yourself. If I'm free, I'd be happy to go with you."

She looked down at her PADD as she scrolled through his flle. "I need to do a little research of my own as to where I want to focus your expertise, but I'll do that straightaway and forward that procedures document to your station. In the meantime, we do a lot of routine medical care and maintenance of the crew.

"You will have a private office in the Counseling Center, and are welcome to use the joint physician's office right her next to mine for private consultations with patients or staff. Counseling is also under my supervision, and their offices are the next door down the corridor, but there is a back entrance through our department. Note that a lot of this may change again when we get an ACMO. But, that's not today. Any other questions at present?"

Jorik listened without interruption, cataloguing the details: rotation structure, shift preferences, Annex hours, pending ACMO arrival, office assignments.

When Commander Amberlyn concluded, he inclined his head slightly.

“Thank you for the orientation, Commander. The proposed Alpha shift assignment in main Sickbay is acceptable. I will coordinate with CPO Engerman for the schedule and familiarize myself with both facilities as directed. I have no immediate questions; I will review any forwarded procedures document and proceed accordingly.”

He rose smoothly from the chair, cup now empty and set aside.

“If no further matters require attention at this time, I will report to the main clinic for the remainder of the shift.”

Jorik waited only long enough for confirmation or dismissal, posture erect, ready to depart. The department’s operational framework was now defined; the rest could be addressed in due course.

"Oh, by the way. We're pretty informal with rank. The physicians are generally addressed as Doctor, rather than by rank. Unless you'd prefer we refer to you as Lieutenant. Yeomen referred to as Yeoman. The Physicians Assistants are also referred to as Doctor - they have a PA doctorate, just not an MD. Nurses would be Nurse Camparda, and so on. We are a professional mix of a team and a family in here. We have to work together and so far, we've done very well with that, with the exception of the day you arrived. Oh, and another thing, we have a kitten with a cleft palate who lives in one of the decon rooms. She's about old enough now for some surgery to repair that palate and then she will go to the Feline Care Community or the Counseling Center as a Clinic Cat. Her name is Baylee," Riah explained, knowing this was likely to light up all kinds of neuro-pathways in the logical Vulcan's mind.

Jorik paused at the threshold, turning back to face Commander Amberlyn fully as she spoke. The additional details—informal address protocols, the interspecies team dynamic, and the unexpected mention of a resident feline with a congenital defect—registered as new variables in the department’s operational and social matrix.

“I appreciate the clarification on address preferences, Doctor” he replied, voice even and composed, already shifting to the preferred titles. “I am accustomed to serving alongside diverse species and have been addressed as both ‘Lieutenant’ and ‘Doctor’ depending on the vessel’s custom. I will adjust to the department’s convention without difficulty. ‘Doctor Jorik’ will suffice.”

He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the broader point about professionalism and familial cohesion. The exception she noted—the coverage lapse on his arrival—had already been resolved in prior discussion; no further comment was required.

The kitten reference, however, prompted a fractional pause. Jorik’s gaze shifted briefly toward the corridor beyond the office doors, as though calculating the location of the decon room in question. A cleft palate in a feline presented a straightforward surgical challenge: palatoplasty with layered closure, potential feeding tube support during recovery, and monitoring for aspiration risks. The procedure aligned with his xeno-medical training, though the animal’s eventual reassignment to counseling or a community program introduced a non-clinical variable.

“Regarding Baylee,” he continued, tone unchanged, “if the palate repair is scheduled within my assigned rotation, I am qualified to perform or assist with the procedure. Feline neurovascular anatomy is well-documented; the surgery carries a high success rate with appropriate pre- and post-operative care. I would require the kitten’s full medical file and any imaging prior to intervention.”

Jorik met her eyes again, expression impassive but attentive.

“Unless there are additional directives at this time, I will proceed to the main clinic as discussed.”

He waited only for her confirmation and dismissal, He was ready to begin integration into the department’s rhythm. The informal warmth she described was noted—another human variable—but one he could accommodate without compromising efficiency.

This was going to be an interesting assignment indeed.

--

Lieutenant Commander Riah Amberlyn XMD
Chief Medical Officer
USS Arawyn

&

Lieutenant Jorik XMD
Medical Officer
USS Arawyn

 

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