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Topic: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts. (Read 3813 times) previous topic - next topic
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CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

A MOST AMUSING AND BEGRUDGING EXAMINATION. OF SORTS.

STARDATE 57651.65
APRIL 17, 2381
1000HRS

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan

At some point in the early morning his exceedingly vivacious companion from the evening had rather deftly managed to stealth herself away without so much as disturbing one iota of his desperately needed slumber. And to a one extent or another, Fisher was more than just a little relieved by that. It wasn’t necessarily only because he’d appreciated the chance to rest up a little, though of course he had, but also because it spared the two newly minted departmental Chiefs a somewhat potentially awkward morning after interaction. At least it had for a little while anyway, as it would have been impossible for them to be apart for long, even on a ship as grand as Theurgy was. Their departments were too closely entwined for that. But it was also impossible because he knew, just as he was sure she knew, that the night before was just another stride forward for them on their journey together. Perhaps more aptly a few strides in succession of one another, that each seemed to last far longer than they probably should have, given the state of his physical condition. But he wasn’t exactly complaining, and neither had she for that matter.

Still, as he sat up in bed now, the osteogenic stimulator that Ensign Vojona had allowed him to take with him clinging to the lower-right quadrant of his bare back, he was gradually coming to the realization that it was time to venture away from the safe harbor he’d sought out in wake of the ‘Spearhead Lounge’ bombing. That the world, as cold, gray, and daunting as it had become wouldn’t offer him the consideration of procrastination. “Can’t believe I’m actually going to do this.” He remarked audibly to himself as he rather gingerly climbed out of bed, letting the sheets slip away from his still nude form. There was an omnipresent ache in his right knee, that he knew was nothing more than psycho-somatic, but nevertheless it was there, and it caused him to limp moderately as he made for the bathroom, intent on showering away the musk that must’ve still lingered on his body from the night.

[The time is oh-nine-forty-five.] came an announcement from Thea, and Fisher stopped in his tracks as a sudden sense of panic set it.

“Shit!” he exclaimed as he had only just stepped into the shower stall, knowing there simply wasn’t enough time to thoroughly clean himself up and make it to Main Sickbay on time. Already Sam was having an effect on his scheduling, as during one of their interludes of the night, she had insisted on making an appointment with Main Sickbay to get his injuries checked. He had teased her that he might, or might not actually attend, and there had been a kernel of truth to that attempt at levity, but he also knew that given the night that the Medical staff had likely been through, it would have been rather inconsiderate of him to have flaked out on them. They were likely already stressed enough, without having to also worry about why he hadn’t shown for what was supposed to be a fairly routine examination.

Plus, if Rutherford got wind of it, she likely would have dragged him there for an impromptu exam by the scruff of his head. As comedic and amusing as that might have been, he wasn’t really keen on letting the ship at large witness such a ridiculous display. And he also imagined that the Captain would have been even far less amused when tale of it inevitably made its way back to him via the usual gossip channels.

Hastily grabbing a nearby pair of duty slacks, Fisher slipped them up his legs, only to realize annoyingly that he’d put them on backwards as he went to close the fly, costing him yet another precious few seconds as he had to strip them, flip them, and slip them on again. After sinking into a pair of duty boots, he then grabbed an older unwashed crimson duty shirt, and was in the process of zipping it up as he strode out of his quarters in a hurried pace, making for the nearby turbolift, which of course he just barely missed catching. With an aggravated sigh, he considered for a moment to run back and retrieve his duty jacket, but as the impetus to do so came to him, the turbolift opened to welcome him aboard. It was a relatively packed turbolift at that, as there were several crewmen in gold collars and jumpsuits surrounding him, each casting a rather quizzical gaze in inspection of his state of dress. Though, he also imagined there was a somewhat pervading funk that exuded from his moderately unwashed exterior, he didn’t think it so bad to warrant such a blatantly obvious reaction on their parts.

A minute or so later, the turbolift stopped at Deck 11, and he shuffled between them in order to exit, only to hear a few laughs among them as the doors closed behind him.

Hurriedly he bounded down the corridor, ignoring the pang of ache that surged up his right leg with each step, until he reached the entrance to the Main Sickbay and after passing a few other seemingly amused female crewmen, he approached a reception area. “Yes. Good morning! I’m Commander Fisher. I’m here for an examination. I should have an appointment for ten-hundred-hours?” he explained, looking back over his shoulder to see the still amused faces of the female crewmen he’d passed by, their ability to contain a growing sentiment of abject laughter reaching a near zenith. Raising a confused eyebrow, Fisher looked down at his state of dress for a moment, as if to try and figure out what it was that was so damned funny to everyone that he’d thus seen. Sure, the shirt wasn’t necessarily clean, but it wasn’t visibly dirty either. Likewise, his duty slacks were of the same variety and general condition that he often wore. Was it the singed features of his beard that was so visibly hysterical as to warrant such attention?

“Yes. I see here now. You are scheduled for an examination in Med Lab Two.” Explained the receptionist at the desk as she looked up from the terminal before her to appraise the handsome Chief Intelligence Officer. “Umm... down, make a left, and it’s the second to last door on the right.”

“Thank you.” He answered appreciatively, starting to move away from her in the direction she had instructed, only to see the expression on her face shift into one of bemusement as well. Contorting his own face quizzically, he was starting to think that this was some kind of grand conspiracy put into play by someone, meant to drive him nearly mad as he tried to desperately understand what it was that everyone was finding so amusing. Something that again triggered additional amused glances of various others that were working or huddled throughout Sickbay, bringing a clearly much needed sense of levity to what had been a busy facility the previous night. And if Fisher couldn’t ascertain what was causing all of them to react in such an amused manner, he could at least take solace in the fact that his mere presence had had some kind of positive effect on their no doubt stressful situation.

Entering Medical Lab 02, Fisher took one last glimpse over himself in an attempt to figure this quagmire out, but still hadn’t noticed what feature of him had caused so many to react in such a manner. A feature that was only visible from behind, as hanging him from the waistline of his slacks as though it were some kind of animal tail, was Sam’s unclasped strapless black bra that had been rather carelessly tossed away during their night of passion. Evidently one of the metal clasps having attached itself to a stray strand of his slacks, left to display to the whole ship that the Chief Intelligence Officer either had some rather odd personal proclivities, or that he’d made a ‘friend’ the previous night.

Nevertheless, unaware as he was, he approached the side of a full body diagnostic bed and felt resigned to wait for this dreaded happening to begin. Like many, Fisher hated going to Sickbay, and hated examinations even more. Their very nature was intrusive, and he didn’t like when such measures were turned around on him. After all, it was his job to intrude into the lives of others, so as to understand their motivations, and gain the competitive edge. But with a medical examination, he was the subject meant to be understood, and was left entirely in the dark on what the results were until the end. Even then, when relayed with relevant information, he wasn’t a Doctor, so he didn’t always understand everything that they did. It annoyed him greatly. What was especially frustrating, was the fact that same subject always seemed to crop up at some point during these examinations: the subject of his injured back. There was always a pressure to address the deteriorating state of his lower spinal column, and perhaps with good reason as he’d heard the percentages of it’s overall health drop substantially throughout the years. But he simply didn’t have the time to devote to any surgical procedures that might correct or solve the issues, not when the fate of the Galaxy was so tenuously balanced.

No, his commitment to duty meant he would just deal with the gradually increasing level of discomfort. Besides, he always figured he’d wind up dead before the situation deteriorated to the point that it became truly detrimental to his ability to function.

“So...” he remarked absently as the time-indicator on a nearby console ticked over to 1000 exactly, and as if on cue the door behind him swished open.


OOC: Relevant Emergency Medical Log from Ensign Vojona in spoiler below.

[Show/Hide]

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #1 –
[ Vigenary Model I-9 Surgical Android | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift 
[Show/Hide]
The sliding doors parted punctually at 1000 hrs.

"Hi there! Lieutenant Commander Fisher? I'm Vigenary Model I-9, surgical android. You are here for a follow-up, correct?" asked the humanoid that strode in with a chipper tone, the audio coming from a slim speaker mounted underneath the singular lens in her cranial unit. Then she realised that she might have already inconvenienced her patient, raising a hand before her white chassis and covering where her mouth ought to have been if she'd had a real face. "Oh! Forgive me. Please call me V-Nine, or Vi. My production name and model iteration is a bit of a mouthful, I am afraid."

With a giggle and somewhat dainty steps she entered the Medical Lab, carrying a PADD containing his medical journal. The screen was turned off, however, since she didn't actually have to look at the small LCARS display to access the contents. She had connected herself to the item wirelessly, and had the data uploaded to her runtime. She might as well have accessed the medical database itself, but in adherence to Starfleet Medical protocols, she would be editing the stand-alone copy of his journal on the PADD before having the revision approved by a Medical Officer prior to upload. She could respect the regulations. After all, her makers had been even more stringent in their adherence to their Code.

She had yet to give the Chief Intelligence Officer more than a visual once-over with her lens before she folded her hands behind her back, her PADD held there as she continued. "I will be taking a look at your puncture wound and superficial dermal lacerations, as well as bruising and superficial burns to your torso, so please remove your undershirt."

Why was the Commander partially out of uniform? Odd, but inconsequential. She just noticed it, having been quite exposed to the life on a Federation starship during the past month.

"While my scans ought to be enough, protocol maintains I ought to make an ocular inspection of any residual scarring as well. I have also noted that your right eardrum was compromised and that you had a suspected concussion, which I will be able to inspect and treat further today. Moreover, I will have to scan your ribcage for any lingering hairline fractures, and since your right leg suffered trauma as well... you might actually remove your uniform altogether. Oh, while you are here, I would like to take a closer look at your old spinal injury as well. My hope is that I will be able to give it alternative treatment, should you feel so inclined."

In the process of the Commander following instructions and removing his clothing, V-Nine was privy to the sight of his backside... which made her question the clothing decision of the organic. He was of the male physiology and had no use of the undergarment she noticed hanging from his trousers... and unless she had completely misunderstood the fashion of the Federation, wasn't that supposed to be worn at the top of the torso? She made no comment, but she tilted her head in a quizzical matter when she noticed it... and he likely noticed how she noticed it too.

Was what she experienced next an awkward silence? Perhaps, but her emotion feed said naught about awkwardness, so perhaps that was merely on the patients behalf, in that case? Further post-visit analysis required.

Once the Human specimen had shed the obstructive clothing she made a point not to zoom in on his mid-section, since she'd learned that most species found it awkward. She might be fascinated with how males of most species had their reproductive genitals extended and on display instead of sheathed inside their bodies - like the Savi had - but she was gradually overcoming that minute curiosity. That had been awkward for her, at first. She cleared her throat (which was merely a sound of social convention since she had no oesophagus) put her PADD aside and raised her right hand to begin her scan - her index finger and thumb opening up and shining as she began.

"Confirming findings by Ensign Vojona," she said at first, and then tilted her cranial unit in consternation. "Though I am detecting elevated levels of oxytocin, dopamine, endorphins, and prolactin. Accessing database for diagnosis..."

The obvious answer was blurted out of her speaker... "Have you recently been involved in sexual- Oh!"

...before her runtime reached the conclusion that she may have violated both social convention and protocol in calling the Commander out on his nocturnal habits involving another member of the crew. Furthermore, the undergarment worn on the top-heavy physique of mammalian humanoids made more sense, in how it actually wasn't some new fashion trend.

"I see, my apologies! I..." she began to wring her metallic hands, the scan completed, and looked in every which direction with her lens as if in search for a means to continue her sentence. Was there a reference in the database she could use in Human commentary? To make the Commander more at ease? She found one reference, but she wasn't quite sure if it applied well enough. It was all she had available, though, so she slapped him lightly on the shoulder and made 'pistol-hands'. "Eyyy! You dog!"

Incredibly odd custom. What did an Earthen canine of questionable intelligence have to do with sexual intercourse?

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan

If there was a deep dark hole somewhere that the Chief Intelligence Officer could have crawled into as the bubbly Savi Android happily sauntered her way into Medical Lab 02, Fisher would have gladly dived headfirst into it. He’d heard some rather amusing tales of V-Nine among the crew, specifically among the Senior Officers during the mixer that Commander Stark had put together a few nights earlier, but by no means had he expected that he’d be partaking in the next edition of one. He’d expected a Nurse, maybe even Vojona again, or some other Medical Officer to perform his examination. That his examination might come at the artificial hands of V-Nine, hadn’t entered into the realm of possibilities when he’d begrudgingly acceded to Rutherford’s wishes that he get himself checked out. If it would have, he would have gladly opted for the ire of an angry woman, over the awkward quirkiness of an Alien manufactured Android. As the realization that this encounter would soon join the annals of others that were so fondly gossiped over by the rest of the crew, Fisher legitimately considered making a run for the door.

“Yes... I suppose I am.” He hesitantly answered her initial question, bringing a weary hand to his face in resignation of what was about to unfold. Simultaneously, in the back of his mind, he’d already begun plotting different ways to get back at Sam for this.

At her instruction to remove his shirt, he once again sighed before having turned his back to her while fingers went to find the zipper tab as it rested at the top of his collar, against his throat, and he pulled it down the center line of his chest. Cool air soon rushed in against his bare chest underneath as it was gradually exposed. In the moment, he was certain he couldn’t have felt any more ridiculous than he was. Consciously he was trying to tell himself that this was just a professional examination. That he had nothing to hide, especially considering the fact that it was being performed by an artificial being. Surely the silly tales that the other Senior Officers had relayed to him and Sam the night of the Cocktail get together were just fanciful flights, meant to amuse, more than actually warn, or inform. The kind of tall tales that were deliberately exaggerated in order to make for better small talk. This couldn’t possibly be as bad as he was fearing. He was just being irrational.

“Right. Sure.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, and with slightly more confidence that this wasn’t going to be so completely awkward, he unzipped the rest of his crimson undershirt, and slipped it off of his muscular frame, before folding it and tossing it onto the side of the scanning bed behind him. That wasn’t so bad, he internally rationalized as he crossed his arms over his chest in a somewhat defensive manner, before turning back around to face his exuberant inquisitor. 

“Whatever you say... umm... Vi.” Even speaking to it- her, was an awkward enough proposition.

Damn the Senior Officers and their attempts at scaring the new Departmental Chiefs.

Damn Rutherford and her genuinely caring request on behalf of his health.

“Wait, what? Oh...” Now she wanted the rest of his uniform gone, why? Just when he’d thought maybe he could at least relax and let his guard down, having found himself content with his shirt being gone, she’d wanted more. ‘Give a mouse a cookie?’ he thought to himself, and he hated the idea of where that train of thought might lead, so he dismissed it forthwith. So, once again reminding himself that he was making this far more uncomfortable than it in all actuality was, he acceded to the requested instructions and went about slipping out of his duty boots, setting them neatly at the base of the bio-scanner. Barefooted against the refreshingly cool deck-plating, he ran his hands along the waistline of his pants and found the fly, perhaps a little more deliberately than was called for. Nonetheless he unbuttoned his pants, and let them slide down, revealing himself in his entirety to the Android as she watched, and only then did he finally understand the impetus behind all of the quizzical and amused looks afforded him during his trek to the Sickbay, as attached to a stray strand at the waistline of his black duty slacks was the utterly embarrassing tail that had hung so openly behind him during it.

“Son of a bitch!” he blurted out aloud, rather abruptly as he reached down between his nude parted thighs, giving V-Nine a rather thorough ocular-full of his posterior in the process, and he snatched at Sam’s black bra in an aggressive attempt at yanking it free. Holding the undergarment in both hands for a moment as he straightened back up, he considered whether or not it had attached itself to his pants accidentally, or if he had been sabotaged. Regardless, he folded it up neatly and set it atop of the rest of his clothing as it had been piled on the bio-scanner just behind him. Remembering where he was, he turned back to shoot V-Nine an apologetic look, before his hands attempted to find somewhere to settle, nearly trailing to cover up his manhood, but realizing that it would have been outwardly admitting his uncomfortable feeling, though anyone could have figured out as such just by the fumbled motions he made as eventually his hands came to rest rather awkwardly at either side of his waist, as though he were just hanging out.

Which he clearly was now.

“Sorry... that wasn’t directed at you.” He cleared his throat and felt no small debt of gratitude to V-Nine as she seemed ready to approach the professional aspect of their interaction now, affording him the chance to escape the embarrassment now eating at him subconsciously. He could only imagine the rumors being spread via the gossip channels. This was exactly the kind of tale that was regaled among Senior Staff during cocktail mixers. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to hear this one being shared among them whenever the next one of those happenings was to occur. He imagined he’d sit that next one out. Or maybe the next ten, until the novelty of this story wore itself down. If it ever would. It probably wouldn’t. Who was he kidding, it definitely wouldn’t. Instead, content to just listen to the Android read off the findings of her own scan, Fisher thought maybe for a second that he could get through this without further ado, but that clearly wasn’t the case, as even he began to recognize the common thread that tied all four of the chemicals she was detecting in his blood chemistry, and before her could disarm her with some made up excuse, she homed in on it, and then there it was. Green-eyes wide in abject horror, as the cat was out of the proverbial bag, Fisher stood entirely motionless, not a word or sound escaping him as he even stifled the biological need to breathe.

Where the hell was that damned dark hole?

Yet somehow, the worst hadn’t yet come to pass, as V-Nine channeled what could only be described as the most cringe inducing data recall he’d ever imagined possible, affording him the kind of boastful reassurance that teenage boys barely still engaged in. Yet, here he was, aboard a Federation starship, standing in the nude before an Alien Android, getting exactly that kind of reassurance.

An excruciatingly long silence prevailed between them for a moment, as Fisher just kept his eyes staring dead straight beyond V-Nine at the bulkhead behind her.

“I...” He was a spy. It was his job to be able to think on his feet and know the right things to say whenever things were their most tense. Yet, in this moment, he was utterly and completely dumbfounded. But he knew that if he didn’t say something soon, then his current companion might offer up something even worse, and that terrified him even more. So, with a sudden imperative, he forced whatever words he could to find form from his voice. “...thanks?” he acknowledged and asked at the same time.

“So... umm, anything else stand-out on your scan?” he wanted this to end in the very worse of ways but knew fundamentally this was likely only just getting started.

Fucking deep dark hole was never there when you really needed it.

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #3 –
[ Vigenary Model I-9 Surgical Android | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift 
[Show/Hide]
Initially, it seemed that the adopted phrase and gesture didn’t have the desired effect, since V-Nine was met with silence at first. If there was such a thing as awkward silence, then surely that had to be it?

In fact, she didn't know what she was supposed to do with her hands after making the gesture, since the imitation of handheld weaponry didn't make any sense to begin with. Oh, perhaps there was some fitting sound she had failed to make with the gesture? "Pew-pew?" she tried with lowered audio, and spun her hands 360 degrees where they were mounted on her metal wrists. Did striking some pose help too? If it was some kind of congratulatory convention, was singing and dancing involved as well? She was just about to play classic Federation music - labelled 'Who let the dogs out?' - and make a dance when her patient finally spoke and thanked her.

"Any time!" she hurriedly said in his wake and made another sound of clearing her throat. She just resumed wringing her hands in a nervous way, worried still that she'd caused offence. "Oh, the scans! Well, yes, the... anomalies are all accounted for then, with the readings not suggesting any concussion today, so you merely 'bumped your head', as you tend to call it in Federation Standard. Osteo-regeneration has tended to your ribs, even though you may still feel some lingering soreness, and the repair to your eardrum seem to have survived the night. You... were told that you were not supposed to exert yourself in any extraneous activities after you got your treatment, right?"

V-Nine zoomed in on his face in a querrying manner, but she was really just chiding him for his poor choice of recovery. "Jesting aside, shame on you, Commander. Your health is more important than sexual congress with any females aboard this ship, and I am compelled to note in your medical journal that you have been neglectful in that manner."

She did so on the PADD after picking it up, and continued with the check-up. "There, next, turn towards the diagnostics table, put your hands on the surface and lean forward. I will take a look at your spine now, for I have understood that you're not friends with it? Please detail how you sustained this injury while I examine the extent of the damage."

The nakedness of the male was odd to her, in more ways than how the specimen flaunted his genitalia outside his scrotum like some primate. Did Human males compare and pride themselves on their sizes as well? How could they ever move out of their caves and attain warp drive capability? V-Nine was still accosted by odd feeds from her upgrade when it came to male patients, but she tried to quell the notions about genitalia significance. Her runtime had more important tasks to attend to!

V-Nine put the PADD away and opened her index finger and thumb to make a close-range scan, listening to the officer as she did so. Then, she began to palpate the area along the spine with her cold fingertips to assess long-term subdermal inflamation and swelling.

This specimen has extraordinary gluteal development, came a digital thought in an idle manner while she probed the area just above his rounded buttocks. She tilted her cranial unit as she inspected. Could it be his body that recruit secondary musculature to compensate for his compromised spine... or does he simply 'work out'? Such an odd quirk to their language, since on starships, they ought improve their physique inside the hull.

"Please remain still, I need to estimate the swelling of your hip-flexors. Given the size of your 'arse' - that is the colloquial term, correct? - it could be that secondary musculature has been adding to the problem since you first sustained the injury," she continued in a casual manner as she slid her hand around his side and began to probe his lower abdomen. Oh, bedside manner! "How are you enjoying serving on the Theurgy so far? Oh, silly me, it certainly seem that you do, nevermind."

She giggled, trying to 'break the ice', while collecting data on his spine and massaging her fingers into his deeper abdominal muscles, all the way down to his pubic bone.

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #4 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan

Fisher stared straight ahead in abject discomfort as those cybernetic hands spun in little 360s, meant clearly as an attempt to further emphasize the congratulatory offering. And as the bubbly Android pantomimed what he could only assume to be the sound that children made when pretending to shoot at each other with toy ray-guns, he began to realize just how lacking in context Federation databases must’ve been. There was simply no way that another species, especially one like the enigmatic Savi, had programmed such detailed yet utterly random reactions into V-Nine. Simply put, she was doing her best to acclimatize to the normalcy of human culture, and interaction; though her frame of reference had been so broad, that she was accessing some relatively obscure, and in fact dated references It was oddly charming, in an innocent way, but it also meant that Fisher wasn’t done dealing with the awkwardness of their interaction. If anything, it meant that there were yet more obscure and dated references in store for him. However, he managed to convince himself that he could cope with those, so long as the rest of this examination proceeded according to more traditional protocols.

‘Fuck!’ he heard his internal voice exclaim at the incredibly slim chances for that.

Hands still positioned rather uncomfortably at his waist, Fisher let out another sigh as he relented to just listen to the Android relay the results of her scan to him in more detail, which thankfully had seemed to indicate that his injuries had mended themselves rather succinctly. Maybe that would mark a quick end to this whole thing, and he could just as quickly slip back into his clothing, as he had out of them. Though, the relay of his recovery soon took a bit of a turn when she asked him a question, prompting his gaze to shift from that of the bulkhead behind her, to that of the single blue glowing-orb at the center of her head. A blue glowing-orb that betrayed a surprising amount of emotion in the way it expanded, contracted, and strobed in concert with her words and tone, expressing a disapproval of his choice of late-night activities in the wake of injury. Sensing a panicked need to address the manner in which those activities had come about, maybe even shifting the blame for them off onto someone else, Fisher first considered the Nurse for having suggested a chaperone to take him back to his quarters; though the absurdity of the idea that simply having taken him back to bed warranted a night of sexual intercourse would have been monumental to say the least. He also considered laying the blame at Sam’s feet, staking a claim that it was her feminine wiles that had seduced him, but that would’ve been wholly dishonest, as he clearly had played his own part in their succumbing to desire. So, without anyone else to blame, he just let a wisp of breath escape his throat and was acquiesced to take the admonishment.

“Wait, what?” he attempted to interject, though it was too late to really circle back on the point that V-Nine had made about his proclivities being logged into his Medical Journal. She had already moved on to make said note on the PADD, and he was left only to roll his eyes. “Wonderful.” He remarked absently, with no small amount of sarcasm detectable in his voice.

Turning in accordance with her next request, Fisher indeed faced the bio scanner, and with an evident sense of impatience he slapped his hands on its surface at an equal distance on either side of his body. Then slowly he lent forward and  let his head fall down between his arms as they were parted before him, the musculature of his back somewhat tensed as a result. Furrowing his brow at the strange manner in which V-Nine described his ‘relationship’ with his spine, he tried to stifle a need to reply in accordance with his sardonic sense of humor.

“Alright.” His tone somewhat exasperated. “The injury occurred during the ‘Setlik-III Massacre’, nineteen years ago? The shuttlecraft I was on sustained a direct hit from a Cardassian fighter and was forced to make a crash landing in the outskirts of the colony. The helmsman did her best to spin us down in a controlled way, but we hit hard. The impact caused the shuttle to crack like an egg, throwing myself and the other contingent in the back across a debris field. For my part, I was lucky since I only wound up with fractures to my L1 through L5. Rest of the crew, save the Nurse who took care of me, were killed.” Remembering vividly the sounds and visceral sensation of the crash in his mind, Fisher took a moment to repress the unpleasant memory. “Anyway, after the battle was over, and we were recovered. I was cycled back to Earth for something like eighteen surgeries, which gradually reconstructed those fractured vertebrae. Sixteen-months later, I was given the okay to return to active duty. Though, the Doctors warned me that I’d deal with latent discomfort likely the rest of my life. They also said I might deal with some developing numbness in my legs too, but for the most part that hasn’t been much of an issue. I think I’ve learned to cope with that sensation whenever its onset.” Thinking for a moment, Fisher tried to remember the specific terms used by the Doctors, that were meant to warn him of the dangers of that developing numbness, but he couldn’t recall clearly. All he knew, was that far preferable to the constant ache was that numbness, which had become increasingly more prevalent. Almost a complete ratio swap in fact, from the former to the latter.

Had he been aware of the fact that the numbness was caused by a marked deterioration of his spinal nerve cluster due to calcification; resultant from an accelerated breakdown and malforming of those 'reconstructed' L1 through L5 vertebrae, he might have been more alarmed than he was. Especially considering that by comparison, Fisher had the lower-back vitality of an eighty-year-old arthritis patient.

“Whoa... cold hands.” He exclaimed a little more loudly than he’d intended as her hands found the muscles of his back, as she more thoroughly examined the stresses hidden underneath flesh. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat as a means of disarming the returning sense of awkwardness and felt his lightly tanned-skin redden in hue as her touch seemed to trail nearer to the base of his bent over self. But some of that uncomfortable tension was alleviated as she made a somewhat off-handed joke at his expense, and he couldn’t help but let a little chortle escape him. “Right, sorry.” He again apologized, for both the movement his little laughter had triggered in his body, and also for the ‘size’ of his arse, as she had so indelicately put it. “Sure, we can go with that colloquialism.” He mused for a moment, before she shifted her touch around along the side of his hips and approached the berm of his lower abdomen. Sage-eyes widening again as his body tensed in reaction to the sudden shift of approach, Fisher averted his gaze as though he were thirteen again and getting his first physical examination. So long as she didn’t ask him to turn his head and cough next, this would remain only slightly more jarring of an experience. But in retrospect, as she’d called up one more of those obscure and dated references, making another attempt to ‘break the ice’, he realized how badly he would have traded places with that thirteen-year-old self.

Whereas his body had only just started to turn heated and rosy a second earlier, it now felt utterly frigid and whitened; Fisher had been rendered unable to move, speak, and even breathe as that metallic hand approached the final frontier of his body where no artificial life had boldly gone before.

"Ehem..." he coughed.

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #5 –
[ Vigenary Model I-9 Surgical Android | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift 
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Completely oblivious to the specimen's discomfort, V-Nine had chirped a little tune whilst she listened to Fisher's tale of reckless warfare shenanigans. Conflict only begot injuries and death, and she really couldn't do anything but tolerate the references in the database that his words summoned. Cardassians and massacres. Shuttles cracking, spilling shell, membranes, albumin, and yolk as if it was some poetic painting he tried to make. Bragging caveman, came a digital thought as she crouched down to better reach his hip flexor while she scanned, rutting with females of his species despite the extent of his injuries, and then bragging with such exploits by parading around with her undergarments. Humans, evolved? By the Code, such a lie.

With one knee of her platform against the deck, her lens was aligned with his posterior when she commented on his injuries. "Well, if it took eighteen surgeries and that many months of recovery, I think what I am seeing on my scans here encapsulates the mediocrity of medical care in the Federation," she said, not in a bragging voice, but in a lamenting one. She made the sound of a sigh, which fitted perfectly with the social conventions that might illustrate the point she tried to convey. "A waste of time and needless pain, wherein it had been easier to artificially bridge the affected area in any number of ways, one of which I could help you with."

Traversing past the hip flexor and reaching the pubic bone, she might have slid her smooth fingertips a bit farther than propriety ought to have dictated after that, had she any kind of care in terms of pleasure receptors being triggered or not. She couldn't really care less, for even if she could procreate, not to mention if she was even willing, she wouldn't even consider any such activities with the hairless mammal. Would she even have any such flights of fancy towards primates, the one she was examining had likely even spent himself inside the vaginal passage of another female already, so why even consider it? Why was it even considered during her current runtime? It ought to have been completely dedicated to the diagnosis, and naught else.

"I should, really, since the deterioration will only grow worse now," she said as if she was discussing the weather and cleared her throat, having removed her hand from the front of his lower torso and instead putting a hand between his shoulder blades. "Lean farther forward please and I will explain."

Running her scanning hand over the base of his spine when he laid across the diagnostic table with his upper body, she wirelessly connected to the screen on the wall and indicated it with a gesture. "When prone, you can see it more clearly," she said, and the screen showed what could be best described to ignorant patients as an 'x-ray', or at least that was the term patients on the Federation ship seemed to adhere to when she tried to explain the readings she was able to make. The screen showed not just his brittle skeleton, of course, but also the flesh and organs, superimposed around the skeletal framework. With layers of transparency set, they could both see the state of his scrotum just as clearly as the deterioration of his vertebrae.

"The detonation in the lounge has triggered the latent damage. Within weeks - perhaps a bit longer if you are more mindful than last night - your brain will not be able to receive any nerve-signals from your lower body." V-Nine titled her head when looking at the screen. "Your male erectile organ included, I'm afraid... While some prostate massage might be able to delay the onset of the dysfunction, I am afraid that the condition might become permanent, should you choose not to let me do what should have been done right after this 'Setlik-III Massacre'."

She uttered the name of the event with more distaste than she felt towards the specimen and his carnal tendencies. In fact, as a mammal, he seemed quite vigorous - gluteal and other organ development taken into account.

"I can give you a prostate massage now, should you feel so inclined, but I would really recommend a full surgery at some point during the near future since the former would merely be preventing early onset of the erectile dysfunction." She had no idea what kind of priorities the specimen had, so she was just trying to be helpful. "What do you prefer? I am 'game' either way! That is the term, correct?"

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan

The expression on Fisher’s face was one clearly discernable discomfort. A grimace which evidenced the serious regret running through his mind, for having acceded to Rutherford’s whims on the matter. Her request for a check-up, regardless of how sincere in origins, had landed him right smack in the middle of a situation he couldn’t possibly have fathomed prior to its manifestation.

Yet he tried to focus on the pleasant aspects, at least the only one that seemed evident in the moment; that this interaction would likely end sooner, rather than later. He’d be able to flee from this nightmarish scenario of pure unadulterated awkwardness and try to desperately forget it. Perhaps maybe the more sordid details of this examination would also stay on the down low, rather than circulating freely among the rest of the Senior-Staff. He imagined the unbearable embarrassment if word managed to find its way back to the Captain, though it paled in comparison to the endless torment he’d likely receive at the behest of the blonde Diplomatic Officer, should she also come into the know of things. A thought came to the mind of course, one he’d already considered before, but which reared its little head again; that this whole thing had been a machination of Rutherford’s to begin with. No, she wasn’t the devious sort to make such cruel plans; she wasn’t like him in that regard.

Though as the Android seemed to more closely inspect the features of his lumbar, lamenting her prognosis of what had been ailing him for the last nineteen-years of his, the rest seemed momentarily trivial.

“To be honest, my uhh... previous Doctors had also recommended full spinal prosthesis...” in fact, nearly every one of his Doctors had made such a recommendation, but at the time, the rehabilitation process which came with full spinal prosthesis was substantially longer than it was now. By far longer than surgical repair of his fractured vertebrae, and subsequent rehabilitation. It would have spelled a far more significant delay to the blooming of his Starfleet career, which was why he’d opted against it. Simply put, Fisher had decided on the shorter path back to duty. “...but I, opted against such measures...” he didn’t feel it necessary to explain to the Android, because it was the past, and there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. But in the years since, as the recovery process for spinal prosthesis had shortened substantially, he’d been recommended replacement numerous times, and still hadn’t agreed to it. Mostly because he’d grown accustomed to just dealing with the pain, but also because he had this deep-seated idea that he would die before it ever really came time to matter.

But as he had been about to address the pertinent issue that he assumed she was leading him to, his body jumped as muscled tensioned instinctively at the unforeseen transition of cybernetic hands which trailed around to the front of his pelvic region. But before he could really protest, she’d withdrawn her hand from the area in question, and seemed acquiescent to move on.

For his part, Fisher latched onto the thrown life-saver, and neglected voicing his concern.

“Yeah, I see...” he said simply, the lump in his throat back as he tried desperately to forget what he was ascribing as nothing more than an innocent run-time error on the Android’s part. But as his full anatomy was on display for both him, and her to ‘appreciate’, the brows over his sage-eyes recoiled high above his brow. It was clear she meant to emphasize the dangerous situation, which was brewing in his back, by ascribing him the same stereotypical over-fascination with his male reproductive organ. It should have bothered him, but in comparison to the dread inducing alternative that she presented him, he found himself unable to even contemplate a response of any kind of appropriate level. Instead, that panic which had momentarily subsided, returned in an instant as he stood upright from the bio-scanner, hands finding his groin instinctively to attempt at hiding it as he took two steps backing away from the android.

“Nope! No... that, that won’t be necessary. Surgery... surgery will be fine.” He honestly didn’t even know what he was saying. He would have said anything to make that line of thought change. “We’ll uhh... we’ll do the surgery.” His eyes searched for his pants, and without much more hesitation he went to retrieve them from where they lay, an immediate need to seek out their protectiveness consuming his every thought and deed.

“So... you just say where and when, and I uhh... I’ll be there.”

“Can’t possibly be worse than this was.” he said under his breath, forgetting completely that V-Nine would easily hear the very faintest of his words.

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #7 –
[ Vigenary Model I-9 Surgical Android | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Swift 
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Making a surprised squeak, V-Nine stepped back when the patient suddenly moved away from the diagnostics table.

"Oh, I see..." she said and began to wring her hands after she'd closed her thumb and forefinger, feeling like she might have upset the Commander somehow, but not being entirely sure as to why. At least the specimen had seen the sense in surgery at long last, even though it was quite a belated realisation. He even let her decide on the time for the surgery, which ordinarily was something the Starfleet officers wanted to be involved in. "I don't know why you would refuse the necessary surgery to begin with, but I think you are making the right choice in correcting this linger spinal issue before it becomes too late and the deterioration progress any further. With the recent damage from the detonation in the Spearhead Lounge, the gradual onset of numbness could become sudden."

As the patient got dressed, her audio receptors caught on to the quiet complaint, and she cocked the hip of her platform in irritation, putting a hand on it.

"Really?" she said, an edge to her tone as she tilted her cranial unit forward - lens zooming in on him. "Why is it that you fleshy mammals are so utterly ungrateful when it comes to the treatment of your ailments? The other medical officers here in sickbay attest to the very same thing, in how the lot of you are usually reluctant to undergo treatment. Why is that, exactly?"

She stepped closer to him, and while not close enough to touch him, she had him pinned against the edge of the diagnostics table by the sharpness of her tone. She tilted her head sideways, her consternation not taking the edge of her mildly threatening presence. "Is it some kind of misplaced hubris, in how you believe you know your body better than those versed in medical science? I am afraid you are incorrect. I know your body better than you do, regardless what you may think. I know every minuscule process in your biology, however insignificant to the well-being you consciously feel."

V-Nine tilted her head the other way, studying his face as if it held the answer to the irritating conundrum. "No, come to think of it, I don't believe it is hubris. It's rather ignorance, and how you feel blessed by it - not wanting us to take the illusion away. You know you are just a gradually ageing composition of biochemical matter, dancing about using cartilage and bone that turns more and more brittle by the day."

Another step closer, her hands on her hips, the anger in her emotional feed had yet to abate. "Here in sickbay, from the experts, you may learn just how mortal you are, don't you? It might not even be the feeble retention of ignorance that makes you disrespect medical professionals." She felt like she represented the organic equals she worked with when she called out Commander Fisher on his comment about her treatment, and since she held no rank, there was no chain of command that would directly keep the truth unsaid.

She giggled a little, having found the answer to the conundrum. "No, the simple answer is that you are afraid, isn't it? You fear the truth about your inferior creation." V-Nine paused there, the words lingering in the quietude in the medical lab for a moment. "Fascinating..."

The diagnostic having run its course, and as if breaking a spell, V-Nine turned away from him with a spring in her step. "I will schedule your surgery and message you when it's due. In the meantime, stay safe, Commander!"

Whistling a little tune, V-Nine left the medical lab the journal of her next patient already uploaded to her runtime.

 

Re: CH02: S [D02|1000] A most amusing and begrudging examination. Of sorts.

Reply #8 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Medical Lab 02 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan

Stumbling as a panicked haste dictated his movements, Fisher rather indelicately stepped into each of the pant-legs of his duty slacks, only realizing that he’d put them on in backwards fashion as he tried to pull them up past his thighs. Letting an exasperated sigh leave him, as he listened to the Medical Android acknowledge his acquiescence to surgery, he found himself feeling even more embarrassed by how uncomfortable he had let himself become. It was clear by the manner in which Vi was speaking, that she hadn’t intended for him to feel in such a manner; that she was just a little indelicate in how she’d handled herself, but out of ignorance, rather than arrogance or deliberate antagonism. In fact, he had probably been far more outwardly antagonistic in how he reacted to her, rather than just giving her the benefit of the doubt that she likely deserved. It played woefully on the Chief Intelligence Officer’s conscience, and he found himself actually feeling a sense of empathy for an electronic lifeform.

Judging by the pointedness of her words, and in fact her mannerisms, it was clear that she had had enough of what might have been perceived as petulant childishness in the face of what was, at least to an extent, a routine medical examination. There was a moment when he considered countering her attacking claim of having ‘known better’ than he had, when it came to biological considerations, by pointing out how she had little if any knowledge when it came to emotional or psychological considerations. But it didn’t seem appropriate, or even warranted as he had already clearly triggered something of a defensive mechanism with in Vi. To have interjected, probably wouldn’t have resulted in a further fit of aggressive retort on her part, and perhaps an even worse dress-down of how he his reactions had been.

Instead, Fisher remined silent as the Android finished her diatribe, and sauntered out of the Medical Lab.

Left to his own devices, Fisher exhaled deeply in relief that the excruciatingly painful interaction was now over. Shaking his head, he of course understood how he had failed to recognize the fragility of V-Nine’s social confidence. How is responses to her, both verbally and non-verbally would have confounded in her subroutines, and initiated a defensive response, just as it would have done so for any biological being. It didn’t matter how justified his instinctive reactions to her lack of social intuition had been, as in the end it meant that their interaction had ended on somewhat unpleasant terms. What’s worse, was that there was a truth to the barbed accusations that V-Nine had made during her parting, in that Fisher was fearful of what a surgical procedure to replace the damaged vertebrae in his back would mean for his career in the now, as well as in the future. He needed to continue to function as an integral part of Theurgy and its mission, but he also didn’t want to do it from a wheelchair because he neglected necessary surgery for far too long.

Rock and hard place.

Shaking his head, Fisher stepped out of his pants once more to flip them around, and after securing them around his waist, he retrieved the crimson undershirt he’d worn, and slipped it over his shoulders before zipping it halfway closed. Though as he caught his own scent, he recoiled the cant of his head ever so slightly and felt at least fortunate enough that V-Nine hadn’t been able to overtly detect and be reviled by the stench of his musk. “I need a shower. Bad.” He commented as he stepped toward the door which led back into the main sickbay, a thought distracting thought crossing his mind as he began to wonder as to how he might mend fences and apologize to the android for his behavior. It wasn’t in his nature to leave things in such a tenuous state when he knew he had more than contributed to its manifestation. There was also the consideration, that he in fact at least owed the Android some form of gratitude, for having performed the examination, however awkward it had been. Medical personnel rarely seemed to get the acknowledgement they deserved, especially from people in his position and rank. It was just expected of them, that they would do their duty. He’d have to think on it, though for now he knew it best to just leave before he made things worse.

Stepping out of the Medical Lab, Fisher turned left as he was determined to head back to his quarters for a shower, absent-minded as to the black undergarment which he had left laying innocuously on the bio-scanner.

-FIN
 
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