Implied Control
Posted on 28 Nov 2021 @ 12:12am by Captain Corvus DeHavilland & Loukianos Melanthio MD-Ph.D
Mission:
M2 - Sanctuary
Location: Obsidian Command Docking / Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: MD 06 - 1058HRS
1755 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure
Loukianos stood patiently at the docking hatch of the USS Adriatic, waiting as the Starfleet crew disembarked from the ship as they had priority. Most on their way to new assignments, or home to their new assignments on Obsidian Command. The civilian’s like himself were left to queue up and wait their turn. Technically, he was on Starfleet orders but as he wasn’t wearing the uniform (and never would), he was left to stand with the rest of the civilian’s. It was a factor of working with Starfleet that he’d just gotten used to. He might have been here at there behest, but he was always just a civilian in their eyes.
It had been a long flight to Obsidian Command, one that he wasn’t all that excited about if he was honest with himself. He’d been happy in San Francisco. It was only a few minutes walk from his apartment to Starfleet headquarters so he had all the creature comforts of the civilian world only moments away from his day to day work at Fleet HQ. And being that it was a natural hub for all Starfleet activity, that meant he had easy access to get to any corner of the Federation, though generally it was transit to or from Bajor where his wife was practicing.
In the civilian world, Loukianos was a Psychiatrist, a career path he’d always wanted to follow. In general, it was several steps above the Starfleet ‘Counselor’ aboard every vessel, though there were a few out in the wider Fleet who held the same credentials. In simple terms, Starfleet didn’t expect quite as much education as a civilian degree required. Only Starfleet’s Medical Doctor’s had congruent medical standards. That wasn’t to say that the Counselor’s Corps in Starfleet was incapable or incompetent, it was just that in comparison, his education and experience was much more refined. It was why he’d ended up doing so much work with Starfleet over the course of his career.
Finally the Bosun ushered the last of the priority Starfleet crew out and opened up the queue for the civilians to disembark. Loukianos and several others filed off the ship and along the docking corridor into a large sort of docking terminal lounge. He could see signage indicating different ships at different berths. There was seating and a small lounge and from what he could see, a pretty healthy trade of passengers and passersby stopping to have a drink before their next ship departed. But for him, this was his final destination, so he followed the signage for the turbo lifts that would take him deeper into the station with a large duffel bag in either hand.
Loukianos rode the lift into the habitat ring, as his orders had instructed him to do, and found the Civilian Liaison on the Civilian Promenade who politely told him that his name wasn’t on his list. Meaning that he didn’t have Civilian quarters for him. Frustrated, but keeping it off his face, he managed to convince the man to let him stow his luggage with him so he didn’t have to cart it around the station as he figured out just where the hell he was going to be housed.
Not a great start, he mused to himself as he returned to the turbolift and rode it up to the CIC. But no sooner than he’d stepped off the lift on the command deck, two Security Officers accosted him, holding their hands up and telling him he wasn’t allowed to go any further. Loukianos took a calming breath and produced the orders he’d been given. They weren’t typical Starfleet orders, but they checked out enough that the Security Officer’s didn’t shove him back in the lift. Instead, they escorted him personally to the Captain’s Ready Room and pressed the chime.
“Enter,” Captain DeHavilland’s voice answered the chime.
The second Security Officer held his hand back for Loukianos to stay while his colleague went into the office first, then he allowed him to follow.
“Captain,” the Security Officer declared, “This civilian tried to enter the CIC with these orders. He says he’s here to see you,” he explained, offering the data PaDD Loukianos had given him. “Do you know anything about this, ma’am?”
Corvus took the device, briefly read the name, and then set it down on her desk. “I do. You can go back to your posts, Doctor Melanthio is cleared to be here if he feels the need,” she smiled pointedly yet pleasantly.
“Aye, ma’am,” the Security officer nodded. He turned about, waved for his companion to follow and they both left the room without another word.
“Sorry about that,” Corvus chuckled, “We’re not conditioned to deal with Civilians outside the promenade,” she said, stepping around the desk to offer her hand. “I’m Corvus DeHavilland.”
“Loukianos Melanthio,” he replied pleasantly, shaking her hand.
“Have a seat, Doctor,” she said, returning to her side of the desk, sitting just as he did. She looked back at him quietly for a moment, measuring her words, before sighing, “Has anyone explained why you’ve been asked to come here?”
“Not specifically, but I’ve made a few deductions,” he shrugged.
“Such as?”
“Such as there are likely to be more civilians here than Starfleet personnel. In my experience, as qualified as Starfleet Counselor’s are, very few have similar credentials to their civilian counterparts. People like me,” he explained. “So it makes sense that Starfleet would want someone available for the Civilians here. Someone a little more under their control than a private practitioner.”
Corvus shook her head, “It isn’t a matter of control, Doctor.”
Loukianos laughed, “I’ve accepted Starfleet’s need to set the terms. The control is implied. Intended or not.”
DeHavilland shifted uncertainly in her seat, “I suppose it is… either way, your guess is right. The Starfleet Counselor’s here aren’t as experienced and equipped to deal with the needs of the Civilians as you are. And, if I’m honest, the department’s not as well staffed as I’d like. There’s a good chance you’ll be needed to supplement that department.”
He smiled back, “Thus the implied control becomes apparent.”
Corvus sat back and shook her head, laughing quietly to herself. “If this isn’t the job you want, Doctor. I can send for someone else.”
“As I said. I’ve accepted Starfleet’s need to set the terms. I only take umbrage with Starfleet’s need to try and make it appear otherwise,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I enjoy the diverse variety of patients my work with Starfleet offers. There was quite an eclectic mix in San Francisco. I expect that to be the case here, as well.”
She really wasn’t sure how to take the man. He hadn’t really offered any legitimate emotion or facial responses that would give her an impression of what he truly felt, just his slightly irritating responses.
“I can guarantee it,” Corvus replied, immediately thinking of Calliope and her needs, to say nothing of the characters she’d met of late amongst the civilian vendors on the promenade. If anything, Doctor Melanthio was going to have his hands full. “Doctor Mazur has set aside some space of you on the Counseling deck, away a bit from the Starfleet Counselors. Hopefully that’ll be enough space for you, but if you need more, connect with her.”
“Doctor Mazur is your… Chief Medical Officer?” He asked, producing a notepad from his coat pocket and a small pen. He wrote that down casually, as if it was normal to have pen and paper anymore.
Corvus looked at him with an eyebrow raised in surprise to see such an archaic note-taking device, but nodded all the same. “Yes. Fair warning, though. She’s… abrupt.”
He smiled patiently, “Thank you for the warning,” he said, finishing his note and tucking the notepad away. “Speaking of space. When I came in I checked with the Civilian liaison and he didn’t have quarters for me. Who… do I go to to fix that?”
DeHavilland fished a data PaDD from the neatly stacked piles on her desk, checked it and then slid it to the edge of her desk. “You’re not in the Civilian decks. I’ve put you with the Senior Officer’s. I thought you might prefer to be away from the Civilians you’re treating.”
“That’s very kind of you, Captain. Thank you,” he smiled graciously as he took the data PaDD to see his orders, and quarters assignment.
“You’re welcome.”
“Is there anyone or anywhere you’d like me to start?” Loukianos asked, setting the PaDD on his lap.
She shook her head, “Just settle in and do what you can to support the Civilians and the Counseling department as needed,” she replied. “Any questions for me?”
“Am I to report to Doctor Mazur, to you, your First Officer?” He asked. “If and when I have anything of note to report.”
“Myself or Commander Zayne, if it’s a civilian matter. Doctor Mazur if it’s related to Starfleet personnel.”
He nodded, taking the notepad back out to write another name. “That’s Z-A-N-E?”
“Z-A-Y-N-E,” Corvus corrected him, “My First Officer.”
“Thank you,” he said, scribbling that all down. Once more he tucked it away and smiled back up at her watching him curiously. “Anything else, Captain?”
“…no,” she replied, perplexed by his seemingly unflappable personality. It was like he was just observing the goings on of the world around him, taking notes and interacting mildly as needed to keep it going. Yet, he wasn’t off-putting. He wasn’t cold and distant. He was clearly there and engaged, yet not. So similar to Thaddeus’ demeanor yet exactly the opposite.
“Well then, I’d like to get to it, Captain. It’s been a long ride in communal quarters. I could use a few minutes of silence, and a good sonic shower,” he smiled, taking the PaDD in hand and standing up. He offered his hand across the desk. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Captain.”
“You as well, Doctor,” she replied, shaking his hand. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” he smiled. “I certainly hope I won’t need it.”
