Lt. Anaxar Shran, Reactivation Log

Posted on Thu Jul 13th, 2017 @ 2:07pm by Lieutenant Anaxar Shran

899 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Resurgere
Timeline: SD 241707.13

[First log submitted through this interface, so if I missed anything or if it needs to be sorted under a different header, please let me know!]

"Tell me, what can I do for you?"

The skinny Andorian sat hunched over in a chair too small for his tall body, wearing an uniform which still seemed oversized. "I'd like to be reinstated to active duty." His voice was soft, with a hint of rawness to it.

The man on the other side of the desk studied him, took in the obvious scars, the grafted visual implant. "Are you sure?"

"I have been cleared by medical."

"Yes, I know." The man studied the padd on his desk, glanced up, and away. Anaxar knew, by now, that the sight of his face usually elicited two responses in others: the desire to look away, or to keep staring in disgust or fascination, or both. Generally people did either the one or the other. This one was an avoider. "You do know that, ah, the extend of your injuries do make you eligible for a full medical discharge?"

"Yes." Anaxar kept his voice steady. He was not going to plead, not with this man. "But I'd like to be reinstated to active duty."

"Don't you understand me, son?" Again the glance back, eyes seeking eyes which were no longer there, again the hurried look away. "Go home. Find another job. The universe was a dangerous place even before-" a curt gesture meant to indicate Anaxar's face, his file, "-this. It hasn't become any less now. You've done your bit for Starfleet and Federation, kid. Go home."

And do what? Be a burden on my family, my house? Stare at the walls and ceiling and look at the difference in temperature gradients? Maybe that could be a new career: visit people's houses and look for heat leaks. Yes, that sounds wonderfully appealing! Thanks for the tip, career manager. I'd never thought of that myself. He felt another headache coming on. Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, he let the words flow out with the air. "No, sir. My decision stands. I'd like to-"

"Be reinstated, yadiya. Very well, if medical has cleared you, then that's fine." He made a note on the padd. Looked up, looked away. "Now, where shall we put you, son? Any requests?"

"Not a colony or a station." Too big, would take too long to learn to navigate in the dark.

The man shook his head. "Really? That's not what I… Never mind. Fine, a ship, then. When do you want to start? No, let me guess, as soon as possible, I take it."

Anaxar nodded, ever so slightly. His headache was getting stronger. He felt his fingers twitch, eager to reach out and rub the scarred tissue around the implant, to attempt to massage the pain away. He forced himself to keep them still. The man was getting a bad enough impression as it was.

"Hmf, alright. We have a few ships nearby, and two docked. Now, which position to place you in… You served as Chief Tactical Officer before, but I don't think that's advisable right now."

"Medical concurs," Anaxar replied softly. No, not Tactical, not unless he wanted to risk suffering flashbacks any time the alarms blared.

The man studied the padd again. "Says here you seem to have an aptitude of dealing with people. Medical or counselling, perhaps, as a traineeship?"

Anaxar shivered at the thought of even entering a medbay, the smells, the screams of people- "No Medical."

"You're a tough customer, kid." The man in front of him rubbed his own forehead, Anaxar noted with some jealousy. "You had a good head for Science, I see from your Academy files. Took some extra courses… Do you think you could head a Science department?"

"Yes, I think so. I've been thinking along those lines myself."

The man made another note on the padd and handed it to Anaxar. "Fine, then. Report to the USS Vindicator, they need a Chief Science. See if they'll have you there."

"Thank you, sir. Where can-" Anaxar began, taking the padd and pushing the chair back.

The man cut him off with a curt: "Dismissed!" and grabbed another padd. "Next!" he yelled. As Anaxar stepped out of the office, he almost collided with the next person to enter the room. He hurriedly crossed the anteroom and stepped into the corridor, which was mercifully empty. He briefly rested his face in his hands, the cold fingers soothing against the hot flesh. Then he brought his hands down again, and rummaged in one of the pockets. Three small cylinders, three doses to carry him through the rest of the day. He held one in his hand. One squeeze and the pain would leave him alone, for a few hours. Was it already bad enough to squeeze?

No. Not yet. He withdrew his hand, picked up the padd and straightened his uniform. It was too wide, his measurements hadn't been adjusted since he'd been cleared for duty, this morning, and there had been nobody around to ask for help. He sighed. It would have to do. "Computer, location of USS Vindicator."

"The USS Vindicator is located in docking bay…"

Anaxar began the long walk through the station.

Lt. Anaxar Shran
As-of-yet Unassigned.

[Anyone wants to meet Anaxar, let me know!]

 

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