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Captain's Log, Stardate 42113.5
After the severe injury to her leg on Palek 3, Security Chief Vesta appears to also suffer from psychological stress as well. Constant and awkward visits from concerned crewmates caused her to break into an uncontrollable rage and kill our science officer, Commander Japel. Lt. Vesta is currently awaiting trial in the brig.
Vesta kept playing the log through her head as she listened to Japel prattle on about the ship's maintenance procedures. The imaginary log served two purposes: 1. it kept her from actually breaking into an uncontrollable rage and 2. it was more interesting than whatever Japel was talking about now. She knew he was just being nice, they all were, but it was driving her nuts.
She looked down at her leg, still covered in small metal braces that worked to repair the injured bone and soft tissue. It didn't hurt—she could barely feel the light electrical pulses and Dr. Kincaide had administered anesthetic—but it did itch. She tried for the umpteenth time to wriggle her fingers underneath one of the braces to scratch.
Japel noticed the motion. "Uh, are you supposed to—"
"Lt. Vesta! I will tie your hands to that bed if I catch you disrupting those regenerators again!" Kincaide snapped from somewhere in sickbay. She popped her head out of her office and glared.
Vesta scowled but pulled her hand back. The doctor always seemed to know when she was sneaking a scratch. "It itches!"
"It does not. I told you, that is a psychosomatic reaction to the electrical currents. Now kindly keep your fingers out of their way!" Kincaide was normally mild-tempered, especially with patients, but the Andorian's difficult recovery was bringing out the worst in her bedside manner. Correction: the recovery was perfectly fine, Vesta's reaction to it was trying.
Japel shifted in his seat, uncomfortable because of both the exchange and seeing his crewmate incapacitated. Vesta calmed herself by visualizing his sympathetic expression suddenly being hit by a phaser beam. The image of an 8 foot tall headless Cecestan running through the corridors of the Temura was almost enough to bring a smile to her face.
"Um, so…where were we?" And he was off again, telling her about the coolant flush on Deck 11 and all the excitement that entailed. It took nearly half an hour before he felt his duty wane and loped out of sickbay with a clear conscience.
All the visits from her crewmates had been like this. They didn't know what to say, what to do, where to look. At least Vesta could sit up now; having her colleagues express their concern while she was unable to do anything but lie there like a lump had been the worst. The prognosis for her recovery was good, Kincaide was convinced Vesta would get back all her motor skills and coordination, but everyone knew it was a long road. Kincaide was estimating at least a week before Vesta could be on light duty again. It meant supervising the security staff from her quarters with a PADD, but Vesta was anxious to get going. The strenuous physical therapy would probably last for at least three weeks.
The sickbay doors slid open and Vesta closed her eyes for a moment, sending a silent plea to all the gods of Andoria that it wasn't Jack Anderson coming to see her again. Jack had been with Vesta when the comm panel in the anthropology research lab on Palek three exploded and sent her tumbling down the side of a steep cliff. He had followed and found her unconscious form on the rocks below and had beamed her to the safety of the ship. Vesta was grateful, but Jack seemed to feel obligated to visit her at least twice a day and it was getting annoying.
Vesta's prayer was answered but the gods of Andoria stuck their tongues out at her by sending not Jack but Taurik her way. She frowned at him.
"What are you doing here?"
The Vulcan engineer had been conspicuous in his absence since her injury. Since he and Vesta often clashed horns, she had taken this as a sign that he was backing off while she recovered. After Japel's visit and the doctor's admonition (the third that day alone), Vesta was not in the mood for another visitor, especially not this one. She fixed him with her hardest glare to tell him that. Maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe he was only here because he was injured, or better yet, infected with some virus. One that affected his vocal chords. Permanently.
No such luck.
"I came to inquire as to your recovery." He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding her as if she were a mildly interesting science project.
"I'm fine," she told him through gritted teeth.
"Is there something I can bring you, to aid in your relaxation or as an entertainment?"
"Yes, there is something you can do. You can get lost! You and the rest of the well-wishing goon squad! If I have to listen to one more report of ship's gossip, manifold maintenance, upcoming missions, or personal platitudes I will drag myself out of this sickbay and shoot myself out the nearest airlock! You want to entertain me? Let me out of this damn cast to kick your—"
"Lt. Vesta!" Kincaide had come out of her office and was staring, wide-eyed, at the Andorian.
Vesta stopped short. She hadn't realized she had been shouting but she had—raised up almost out of the bed, balanced on her good leg and clutching the sides of the frame with both hands. Suddenly she felt silly and childish. Deflated, she fell back and laid down, running a hand over her face.
"I will…come back another time, perhaps," she heard Taurik say. Even in the face of her gale-force temper he remained infuriatingly calm. Vulcans, she thought. The doors slid open and closed again and she knew he was gone.
She wondered how long it would be before everyone on the ship knew about her little temper tantrum and winced. Hardly the reputation the head of security should have.
Kincaide wisely left her alone for the rest of the day, even when Vesta managed to sneak a finger beneath the regenerators and scratched vigorously. As she dropped off to sleep that night Vesta wondered sleepily how she could un-ring this particular bell.
Lt. Jack Anderson was enjoying a drink in the Observation Lounge when Taurik slid into the seat next to him.
"You are not on duty?" Taurik asked his friend. He and Jack had become fast friends since their assignment to the Temura three months ago. Jack, who was part Vulcan, appreciated Taurik's dry humor and insight while Taurik enjoyed talking to a human who understood the finer points of logic and emotional control, even if he didn't always exercise them.
"Just got off. I switched with Martinez so that the Borg Queen and I wouldn't have to work together on the new blinds," Jack replied, referring to the hidden outposts the anthropologists used to observe pre-warp cultures.
"Is she still angry with you?" The Borg Queen was what Jack had taken to calling Lt. Una Magis, the ship's away team coordinator.Because he was thefield engineer, she and Jack were supposed to work together on all the specialized technical equipment to be used for missions. She told him what was needed and why, he developed it, and her teams tested it. This process was somewhat disrupted by the fact that Una and Jack could hardly be in the same room with one another. Relations between them had not improved when Jack had brought a wounded Vesta back from Palek 3. The injury was far from Jack's fault, but since it had been a technical mishap that had started it and Jack was the ranking engineer present when it happened…
Jack sighed. "Still. Always, I think. She hasn't said two words to me for three days now."
Taurik raised an eyebrow. "How will you finish the blinds? Both of you must approve the final design and test it."
"Don't remind me," Jack said darkly and glared accusingly at the ice in the bottom of his drink, his good mood gone.
Taurik shifted in his seat. "I apologize, I did not mean to broach a subject that irritates you."
Jack looked at his friend, surprised by the apology. Courtesies such as apologies were not expected in Vulcan culture, to offer one where one was not due was unheard of.
"It doesn't. I mean," he backtracked, "yes, Una's behavior annoys me, but that doesn't mean talking about it does."
"This is the second time in less than an hour that I have triggered an unpleasant reaction from a colleague."
"Huh?" Now Jack was really confused.
"I visited Lt. Vesta earlier today."
"Ah." Now it was clear. "Japel was in here before you came. I don't think the chief is a happy camper right now." Taurik looked confused at this reference. "If she got snippy with you I don't think that's your fault. She's mad at herself for being incapacitated."
"Her response to my inquiry after her health was very…hostile." Taurik was not convinced by Jack's explanation.
"Trust me. Don't be offended by her, she's just going stir crazy."
Once Jack explained what "stir crazy" meant, Taurik allowed himself to be placated by this and vowed to try again with Lt. Vesta later.