JL | Com Ivanova, Lt Ch'Valenvok - CO & CMO | "One Step, Then Another"

Posted on Thu Jul 13th, 2017 @ 3:15pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Captain Kaleb Ch'Valenvok M.D.

1,404 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Resurgere

Sickbay had never been her favorite place, no matter how posh or advanced the space was. Vindicator was most definitely advanced, in every sense of the word - and however homey the ship had become - how familiar and safe - Rochelle still couldn't quite bring herself to want to explore the inner depths of medical. That was Ch'Valenvok's territory through and through, and she was neither comfortable nor fond of it. Nor should she have been. The worst of the worst happened there, for the most part - and the rare exception was the birth of her son. Regardless, she found herself drifting down to his office having made the choice not to tempt the Andorian to chase her down for her yearly assessment - especially knowing that the ship was slated for launch the following day.

Kaleb walked to his office from the recovery ward after finishing his rounds. The day had been long and filled with tedious paperwork for the most part. Kaleb was a stickler for complete and accurate charts and could never leave a tee uncrossed or an i undotted. As the door to his office opened with slight hiss of air, Kaleb nearly walked into Commodore Ivanova. "Commodore, I had no idea you would be here today. Is Javaan okay? Are you okay? What's wrong, Ma'am?" The questions fell out of Kaleb's mouth like cascading water one into the next.

He had served in two prior commands and neither had meant as much to him or been commanded by someone of such high rank. The Commodore always made him feel like his head was about to roll. This of course was no fault of her own but a byproduct of his upbringing. Kaleb's father had been... unpleasable to say the least. As Kaleb waited for the worst to pour from the Commodore's lips he struggled almost visibly to maintain his small degree of composure.

The redhead's hands quickly went up in both surrender and to quiet the wide eyed Andorian, "No no no," Rochelle began, gesturing for him to turn it down to a simmer with a small, amused little smile. "Javaan is absolutely fine. You scheduled me for a physical, I'm just beating you to the punch and not playing cat and mouse this time." She explained, moving to rest her hip against his desk as she folded her arms across her chest, "Is that an issue?" The truth of the matter at hand was that she knew they were headed back into the black. While their initial missions were designated to be short, punctuated by propaganda routines to highlight and show off the brand new ship and its brand new class, they were still sent light years away from any sort of assistance. To be sick, to be injured, was to rely solely upon the ship's medical staff. While she trusted Ch'Valekvok implicitly, she harbored the same amount of discontent towards surprises as she did the sickbay... That and Landon would have captured her and held her hostage until the doctor could catch up with her had she tried to skirt around the mandatory, and quick, round of testing.

Kaleb relaxed visibly and his right eyebrow raised in a mannerism not unlike a Vulcan's. "Are you sure nothing is wrong, Ma'am? I have never known you to come waltzing into sickbay for an appointment. Never-the-less, I just finished my rounds. If you wouldn't mind stepping into exam-1 across the hall, I'll grab my PADD and be right in." Kaleb could have performed the routine scans in his office but asking the Commodore to go to a more mundane location gave him back some of his confidence and an air of authority only a doctor can have over a patient.

"As far as I know, I'm fine. I'll see you over there." Her reply was soft, flippant - perhaps even teasing. It didn't take long for her to push away from his desk and head for the room he'd sent her off to.

Exam-1 was spartan. A single bio-bed, a couple panels, a chair, replicator... Spartan. Once tucked away within its confines, Rochelle was quick to hop up on the edge of the bed, her legs swinging slowly as she waited. Her disposition, and the sight of her, was almost child-like with her legs too short to reach the floor and boredom quietly etching itself across her face with increasing layers. Even when the door hissed open to usher Ch'Valenvok through, the expression remained even though she was glad to see him, and even more glad to know that their professional encounter would soon be over and she would be free to do as she pleased for the next year... Or so. "Everything alright?"

"Um... yes Ma'am." Kaleb quickly busied himself with the task at hand. "We'll start with the normal blood scan and work up through soft tissue and skeletal scans. I'm just going to ask you a few questions as the biobed takes your vitals. Please relax, lay back, and take even breaths." Kaleb was relaxing into his professional bedside manner as he moved from the Commodore's head to her feet with the wand of his tricorder. "Have you had any joint or muscle pain in the recent past? Colds, headaches, nausea or vomiting?"

With hands folded together over her upper abdomen, the Commodore furrowed her brow and shook her head in answer to the busy fellow's questions, "No, not really. Headaches are part of the job and easily alleviated." Rochelle replied, turning her gaze towards him. He was slowly returning to his usual steadfast self, soothed and comforted by the familiarity of the routine at hand. It nearly made her smile.

Kaleb nodded and moved back to the screen beside the biobed. "Soft tissue scans indicate a slight inflammation of the right elbow. Have you been exercising more vigorously than normal. Playing tennis perhaps? This is a common injury in several sports. If it is bothering you we can give you a hypo of cortisone to help with the inflammation." Kaleb's powder blue antenna twitched back and forth as his mind worked in conjunction with the medical instrumentation. "Other than that, Ma'am, I think you are as fit as a Vulcan lyre." Kaleb finished her chart and updated her medical record service status to "Fit For Duty" for another year.

Tennis? Never in her life. The good Doctor didn't need to know that she'd been spending her free time sharpening and honing her skills as a martial artist. Sparring with Landon as a partner was neither easy not pleasant when one got right down to it. He was a power house that challenged her, kept her on her toes, and forced her to change her tactics and style often in order to keep him from figuring her out and anticipating the next attack. Throwing punches and blocks was not entirely unlike wielding a racket... Kind of. "Something like that," she replied, instinctively looking at the offending joint with a scrutinizing gaze, "it doesn't really bother me, but if it does," she paused as she hopped down from the biobed, "I'll be sure to hit you up for that cortisone injection." The update to her record signed, sealed, and delivered meant she didn't need to linger. She'd passed her tests with flying colours and escaped without any real issue. "Good to hear that I'm good to go. Anything else you need from me or can I head out?"

"Take it easy on that elbow, Ma'am. I'm finished here." Kaleb put down his PADD and tucked the tricorder back in it's holster at his waist. "Javaan is coming due for his 18 month vaccinations. I look forward to seeing him again." Kaleb smiled and opened the door to the exam room. "Thank you, Ma'am." He stepped back and allowed the Commodore to pass.

"I'll be sure to bring him down soon. Thank you, Lieutenant, as always you're a doll." Clapping him softly on the shoulder, Rochelle had all she could do not to scoot out of medical like her ass was on fire. It would have been rude, she told herself, and Ch'Valenvok deserved better than for his Skipper to do anything less than stroll confidently away, the picture of contented health, from his care.

---

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX 78213-F

&

Lieutenant Kaleb Ch'Valenvok
Chief Medical Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX 78213-F

 

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