RP Log: With An IQ Of 22, She's As Sharp As Her Ears
| Roleplay Log | |
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Location(s):
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Stardate:
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| 2023-01-30 23:23 | |
- Exam Room One - Main Wing <USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A>
- The exam room isn't much more than a small alcove off to the side of the general medical wing. It is used for general examinations, and for treating less serious, and certainly non-life threatening injuries. Medical professionals have a variety of tools and equipment and their disposal here for diagnosing patients. The walls and bulkheads are an unpainted titanium that reflects a natural blue-like tinge. This is accentuated by horizontal and vertical inlays in the walls of a slightly darker blue tinge, creating a half-meter square tile-like effect. Recessed lighting in the ceiling and along the floor boards provides ample illumination, adjusting in colour as the alert status of the vessel changes. Black, glossy panelling runs intermittently along the bulkheads at shoulder height, allowing access to the LCARS interface.
T'Shaav is already sitting on the biobed, looking serine. She wears her Commander's rank again, but she is still in red as the hybrid probably last saw her.
Nolan enters in with a PADD in hand, looking very official in his lab coat as he flicks through the information.
"Commander, how are we feeling this cycle?" The hybrid asks with a smile, antennae glancing up before his eyes do.
"Quite well in all respects, Doctor," she replies. "And yourself?"
"Oh you know, keeping people on their feet" Nolan replies. "You seem to be in an excellent mood. Having positive life experiences?" he queries as he takes a look at the readings of the biobed"
"Doctor," she says, "I do not have moods. But if you are asking whether I find anything amiss in my life or career, I do not."
"Vulcans have moods, they're just extremely well managed. Or so I've been told by Vulcans who aren't a fan of the idea that they're emotionless, usually implied by well meaning but uneducated Terrans. Myself included once"
Nolan chuckles.
"If I may, there are some tests I would like to conduct before we discuss your general health, if that's alright"
"Proceed," the Vulcan says, passing over Vulcan philosophy for the moment.
The Doctor searches through a few cabinets before retrieving an apparatus, clearly meant for the ears. He hands it to the Commander. "I would like you to put this on for me. This test should be nothing new, please raise your left or right hand in accordance to where you hear the tone, higher or lower based on your perception of the tone. Any questions before we proceed?"
"None," she says, slipping the device on her head and affixing the earpieces.
The hybrid nods and taps on his PADD, keeping it positioned away from her as well as any reflective panels. A standard test proceeds, producing several tones for the Vulcan to assess, some rumblingly low and some nearly piercingly high.
T'Shaav proceeds through the cycles, raising the appropriate hand. Some tones, possibly because of their frequency or amplitude, cause her to raise an eyebrow, but she doesn't voice a complaint.
After nearly three minutes of testing, the Doctor gives an affirmative nod to the Commander, letting her know the test is over.
T'Shaav removes the device, deactivates it after a moment to figure out how, and hands it across with a nod.
Nolan takes ahold of it, stowing it away. "Well Commander, I'm sorry to inform you that your hearing hasn't seemed to improved. But the good news is, it's not any worse either. I apologize if that's a disapointment"
"Considering some of the injuries I have sustained in my lifetime, the fact that I remain compos mentis is sufficient," she allows.
"Just doing my job following up on those injuries. Speaking of the mental, what did you have for breakfast this morning?" Nolan asks, taking a seat.
"My mental fragility can be judged based on my breakfast selections?" She inquires dryly. "A Vulcan hot grain, not dissimilar to Terran oat meal, topped with four Betazoid uttaberries 3.62 milimeters in diameter, Vulcan spiced tea in a standard 6-ounce replicated serving, replicated at a temperature of 48.1 degrees C."
Nolan taps something in on his PADD and nods, seemingly happy with the response. "I feel bad Commander, that was only one question. Only a couple more, you needn't be so detailed. Where were you this time last week?"
"At this moment one week ago, I was in my office, reviewing personnel rosters and other ship's paperwork as I continue to become more familiar with the Phoenix and its operations," the Vulcan replies.
More tapping and another affirmative nod. "Last one. Who was the tertiary graduate of your intermediate schooling group?" The Hybrid asks, antennae seeming to train particularly upon her.
She raises an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued. "Vulcan education does not work in quite that way," she says. "But as I proceeded into my final years of formal schooling, the tertiary graduate of my form was named Seppel. I did not follow his career after schooling, so do not ask me what became of him or whether he is still alive," she adds dryly.
[This was too funny to leave out, I'm sorry] OOC: T'Shaav says, "I'm basing all this on, 1, her memory is better than a human's, better than mine, and 2, her IQ is 22, so her memory is better than that of the average Vulcan." OOC: You say, "222 you mean right?" OOC: T'Shaav cackles. OOC: You say, "Lobotomite"
"No no Commander.." He says, tapping things into the PADD and getting an acceptable result back. "Just asking you to recall things which are verifiable by replicator records, location logs and schooling reports. Your cognitive functions are excellent as always, just a follow up from Commander Sawyer's last logs which expressed this was something of interest for your next visit. I appreciate your cooperation. Now, what can I do for you?"
"Tell me about medical on this ship, Doctor," she says. "I am meeting with all department heads or deputies. You may speak freely, of course.
Nolan seems to blush a little. "I apologize, I didn't realize you were here on that business, and not your own.." He starts to thinking as he leans back on his stool. "Well, as you know, Doc Sawyer is the Chief Medical Officer, for which I am immensely grateful for. He's been an excellent mentor for my career as a doctor, but I'm sure I can file that praise at a later date. Between him, I, Doctor Pitot, Doctor Krytz and Doctor D'Shara, we've gone ahead and split up the five medical bays amongst our various specialties and administer them seperately with a fair share of the crew for nonspecific medical work"
"I came here for both matters, Doctor," she says. "It would have been illogical to split the appointment when one appointment could handle both items. Your apology is not required. You did not know of my second reason for coming, because I did not inform you," she says. "Both reasons are valid. As executive officer, I needed to log an intake physical, and as executive officer, I need to understand medical's requirements. This ship possesses more extensive medical facilities than even most starbases."
"We'll deal with the rest of the intake after our chat, if that's alright. Any questions so far?" Nolan asks.
"Do you have any special needs for equipment we do not currently have aboard?" She asks. "Do you believe you have medical staff sufficient to the size of the crew and civilian complement?"
"Needs for equipment? Ahh, I don't think" Nolan purses his lips. "We have a weekly meeting and a daily... huddle. So far, we haven't really had any stifling issues that have come up, certainly not me. I think fleet medical did a good job of equipping us with everything we need for contemporary proceedures. As far as workload, like I said before, between Doc Sawyer and the four deputies, we've got things cut pretty even. It's a lot for me coming from a small ship like my last posts, but with enough scheduling, it's managable even if I'm doing annuals every day"
T'Shaav nods. "I understand," she says. "If you and your department head do decide you need some item of equipment prior to the start of our exploratory mission make certain Commander Ki'vek receives that notice and she will try to supply the need. Thank you, doctor, that concludes my questions of you. Please proceed with my intake as you deem best."
Nolan raises an eyebrow but nods. "How are we feeling as of late, any aches, pains, things out of the ordinary?"
"None," the Vulcan replies. "My health has been unimpaired during the last year and a half of starbase duty."
Nolan nods. "How's your diet? Any additions, subtractions, good recipies I might incorporate into my own cook book?"
"I will consider the question about recipies and share any replicator files I think you would find palatable," she says. "There have been no changes to my diet."
The hybrid notes all this down with his stylus, scribbling quickly. "I've heard, admittedly through the grapevine, you're a prodigious sparring partner. Any matches lately? Any injuries thereof?"
"No matches during the past two years," she says, "except against holographic partners. No consequent injuries, either." She considers. "I note that my hand to hand workouts appear to be ship's news. You are not the first person to mention them," she says.
"I assume I wouldn't be the first to ask if there's time for a match then either?" Nolan asks. "First do no harm is my creed, but I myself have had trouble finding partners that aren't photonic in nature. You'd find I have a stronger constitution than a hologram"
"I accept," the Vulcan says with a nod. "Doctor, if there is nothing more for the records, I must depart. We are on course for the Lya system, it seems."
"We'll pencil it in. Based on your vitals and our conversation, I think you're in good shape. If you have any further questions for me, please let me know whenever. I look forward to our match, at your convenience" Nolan stands and opens the door. "Have an excellenct cycle commander"
T'Shaav nods. "Thank you, Doctor," she says, heading out.