"Until I'm dead, yes." Rass smiled grandly as he crossed Hal's path to visit his patient. He walked into the observation room to see Kirk, sitting up in bed and reading something on a PADD. Dorrin was still amazed. There was just no medical reason for Stephen to be alive. Granted, Rass' surgical skill was key to the commander's fast recovery. The simple truth was, however, he had a hole in his body large enough to fly a shuttle through, at least half a dozen major organs shut down during the surgery, and his heart stopped twice. The Prophets were certainly looking out for him.
Dorrin took a quick look at the biosign monitor and nodded with approval. He was recovering nicely. "How's my favorite patient?" He asked cheerfully.
"I'm your only patient," Kirk looked up from his PADD and smiled. "But I'm feeling better... stiff... but better." He REALLY wanted to get back to his quarters. Stephen wasn't complaining about the company. Rass Dorrin was actually a much more pleasant fellow than he originally thought. He still came off as VERY confident in his talent, but willing to share stories of growing up during the Bajoran occupation, his family, and his previous posts. The few times Dorrin had to activate Hal were also quite humorous.
Doctor Rass mockingly looked around. "So you are. Did the chicken broth go down alright? No signs of nausea?"
Kirk shook his head. "Nope. Does that mean I can have real food?" That was his second bland meal. Breakfast, if you could call it that, was a piece of dry toast and water.
Rass shook his head and smiled. "We'll see about tomorrow. For today; dry toast, broth, water, and crackers. Your body went through a lot of stress yesterday. You had six major organs shut down." He pointed squarely at Stephen. "We're going to take it EASY for awhile, right?"
"Right," Kirk replied dejectedly.
"That means food, too." Dorrin concluded. "I don't even want you TOUCHING a spice for the next couple of days... except for a modest amount of salt. And drink plenty of water. You lost a lot of fluid during the surgery."
From the next room, they could hear the sound of the heavy wooden double doors sliding open, then closed. Rass and Kirk turned to see Captain Bolerov coming through the entryway. He was smiling, but it seemed forced. "Good morning, gentlemen," he said politely. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything important."
"Not at all," Rass countered. He patted Kirk's leg. "Take it easy. With luck, I'll be discharging you this afternoon." He turned towards the door and Bolerov. "Captain." He acknowledged with a nod.
"Doctor," Bolerov returned with a nod.
"Thanks, Doc." Kirk called out.
Bolerov walked up to Kirk's bed. This was going to be uncomfortable. In his heart, he didn't want to be here. He was much more comfortable staying an arms distance from his crew. He certainly wasn't used to being questioned. However, with the events that almost killed him, he knew, deep down, that he owed his first officer an explanation. "So..." he struggled, "you're doing very well, yes?"
Kirk nodded. This was uncomfortable for him. Stephen had been under Bolerov's command for less than a month, and he didn't like him. He was pushy, arrogant, demanding and self-serving. He didn't want a crew capable of independent thought, just mindless minions. Andrei, in Kirk's opinion, would have made one heck of a Borg Queen. Despite all the vitriol he wanted to spew, common sense intercepted his words. "Yeah," he answered, "Doc says I can go back to my quarters this afternoon."
"That's good," Andrei answered, nodding absently. For Bolerov, it was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was expecting anger, pain, or resentment from Kirk. Considering what he had been through, it would have been understandable. "Then, you will be able to celebrate Christmas in the comfort of your own place. That's good."
Kirk nodded. As if the captain cared at all about Christmas, he thought. He studied the captain's facial features. His hair was short and peppered gray... standard military haircut similar to the way he wore it in the Marines. His skin was ruddy and tan, but with several wrinkles, now that he could see up close. His eyes were a steel gray. They looked troubled. Apparently, this conversation was just as uncomfortable for him.
"Oh," Bolerov suddenly remembered his excuse for coming down to see Stephen in the first place, "the romulans have requested we share our Christmas holiday with them... kind of a cross cultural exchange sort of thing. Since it's two days away, I was hoping you'd be recovered enough to just sit and talk with some of them. It would only be a few minutes."
"I can do that," Kirk replied, somewhat surprised at the notion and the question. What an interesting opportunity, he thought. He wondered if Andrei was throwing him some kind of consolation duty in repayment.
"I mean, I know you're officially off duty for at least a week, but..." Bolerov offered. It was the romulans who had asked for this holiday sharing. Truth be told, Andrei had been against it, but people in greater authority than he overruled him. He didn't really want to put another burden on Stephen, after all he had been through, but the simple truth was; Kirk was probably more knowledgeable on the origins of the holiday than anyone else he knew.
"It's alright," Kirk interrupted. He already said yes... what more did he want?
"Good, good..." Bolerov repeated. The tension was testing his patience. His steel eyes became determined. He wasn't going to continue this adversarial relationship with Kirk any longer. From Bolerov's estimation, Kirk was a good person. As usual, Admiral Wellington's assessment of Kirk was probably jaded by something trivial. He gently pounded the bed Kirk was lying on. "Mr. Kirk, we need air some personality issues. For the remainder of our discussion, feel free to speak with me as candidly as you wish. Nothing's on the record. Okay?"
Bolerov's expression actually seemed sincere. This was the moment Kirk had been waiting for ever since they left Spacedock. He had wanted to verbally tear into this guy for weeks. Why, then... when he now has the chance, is he just not as angry as he was? The guy almost got him killed on a mission they never should have taken. On top of that, he best friend got shot, too. He should have been furious, but he wasn't. "Okay, Sir," he replied.