A/N: My first attempt at a Star Trek fic of any kind, so please be kind with the reviews! Basically, most of the chaps. Will be a an episode of the original series, told mostly from the 1st person POV of my oc, Assistant CMO Dr. Nicole Zoellner (trust me, she's no Mary Sue, or at least I'm trying my goddamn best not to make her one), sometimes in 3rd person from McCoy's POV, and perhaps with the occasional AU twist or a dash of Spirky goodness for all you Kirk/Spock fans out there! Starts out kinda slow, since she's not on the Enterprise just yet and the 5 yr. voyage hasn't started, but hopefully I can get to that by the next chapter. Also, I don't plan to re-write every single episode, and I will add in completely new storylines for additional chapters, such as the first couple, since I don't think the series actually starts until at least 2266, when the voyage starts in mid-2265. One final note (I promise, then it's storytime!): I will be writing the episode chaps. In order of stardate/production date (which typically correlate) instead of TV release date. That being said, enjoy the show!
Disclaimer!: Star Trek is property of Paramount, and unfortunately none of it's characters or storylines belong to me. Dr. Zoellner is, however, my own creation, as are her family members, and the starships USS Atlas and the USS Harcourt.
Chapter One: An Enterprising Opportunity
Had the list been in alphabetical order, my name would've certainly been dead last. It certainly would've been on the roll call during the graduation ceremony from Starfleet Academy nearly three years previous, had it not been for the academic honors that had managed to earn me a seat in the front row. Thinking back, it was hard to help smirking a little; despite the – as some would call it – "unfortunate" last name of Zoellner, no graduation ceremony had seen me as the last one to receive my diploma, the same as it had been for my twin brother, Mark, and our father as well.
Of course I knew that honors were not nearly enough to get by on in life, but as I sat there in the spacious reception area of Starfleet medical, I realized – again, as I often did – that they really did help. A lot. As it was, the list of people scheduled to meet with the Surgeon General of Starfleet was not alphabetical, (which was a big relief, the list was immense) but rather in order of priority. And I was at the very top of the list. Not that I should of known that, of course… but the PADD just happened to be carelessly tossed aside on the receptionists desk so the list was in full view… and it's not my fault that I happen to have a special talent for, erm, noticing things… but it wasn't as if I had done any harm in looking at it, since I had known since before even arriving back home the scheduled time for my appointment.
I had only arrived back from my six-month assignment on the USS Harcourt barely two weeks before, but a recent decline in the number of medical personnel left little time for R&R. Since returning, things had been busy and business pretty much as usual for me, but a lot had changed in two weeks. I had gone from being the Junior Lieutenant I had been at the beginning of the mission to a full Lieutenant, and from a relatively unknown presence to most in the Starfleet medical community to something of an equal and maybe even a hero... but all for reasons I would rather not have been. After that last harrowing mission, I would have rather have taken two full weeks of rest and relaxation over a bump up in rank and a shiny metal to pin on my dress uniform. I joked around and pretented to be perfectly fine in front of my brother, but I knew he'd rather just let him sypathize with me and get it over with. But no, not Dr. Nicole Zoellner, I had to keep busy keep my mind off things, get on wiht my life and sign on for yet another mission before I let my shiny new promotion go to waste.
And so there I sat, waiting to be called into his office and trying to look perfectly calm and unflustered as I tugged nervously at the hem of my uniform dress. I looked up suddenly as I heard the receptionist converse briefly over the speaker with Dr. Eggleton and then clear her throat.
"Nicole Zoellner?" she said, standing up, "Dr. Eggleton will see you now."
Smoothing out my skirt for a final time, I stood and followed her inside the office door to greet the Surgeon General. He smiled slightly, rising to shake my hand as the door slid shut again, indicating for me to take a seat in front of his desk.
"Dr. Zoellner, I would like to congradulate you on your promotion, and also to offer you my deepest condolances for the loss of Dr. Edbardiar. He was a great surgeon, and will truly be missed by us all." he said, with a faint hint of sincerity. I felt a lump caught in my throat. Dr. Edbardiar had been a gruff, callous, and often insensitive man, but he had been a mentor to me since I first arrive at the Academy six years before, fresh out of medical school. True, he had often treated me harshly as a cadet, but I looked up to him almost as much as I did my own father; I liked to imagine that he treated me like dirt simply because he thought I had potential and was only pushing me to work harder. I could only assume I was correct when he asked me to be part of his medical team on the Harcourt's latest science mission. He had softened a bit by then, and had even told me that I was the best neurosurgeon he had ever worked with. Of course, that was as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood, forcing me to leave him and two dozen others behind on the planet to rach the shuttle, get back to the ship, and assume the title of Acting Chief Medical Officer after a mission gone horribly awry... Dr. Egglton knew of all my proported "heroism," of course, but said nothing of it. I was glad he didn't, considering there was nothing in that story worth bragging about or that I was even particuarly proud of, and for him to expect me to be would've made me sick.
Instead, he got right down to business. "Let's not waste time beating around the bush here," he said . "I want to be frank with you. You're a brilliant surgeon, your track record and quick rise in rank are both impressive and commendable, despite the... unfortunate circumstances under which they were recently acquired. And unfortunately, there's quite a lack of doctors with your skill in Starfleet right now. But despite all this, I'm still facing a dilemma right now concerning how your skills would best be utilized. the Teaching Hospital, of course, is always in need of doctors, but transferring you there could mean any of several things. I have no doubt of your skill, but many of the open positions there are in the educational and research departments, and I highly doubt that you would be comfortable in an educational position so early in your Starfleet and medical careers, correct?"
Oh, certainly not; teaching on any way, shape, or form was not for me. "You'd be correct, sir, but of course if there are other possibilities, I'd gladly accept whatever I'm needed most in right now."
"Well, that's just it. Possibilities for placement are always available in Starfleet Medical, but most research currently underway is either graduate research or Ph.D. studies. And I am to understand that you yourself earned your Ph.D. in xenobiology while on your first mission as an ensign?"
"Yes sir," I said. He leaned back in his chair and seemed to consider something for a moment, examining something on his monitor which I presumed was my extended resume. I took the opportunity to think things over myself. To be honest, the thought of working in the Starfleet Medical Center didn't greatly appeal to me, but I knew for a fact that many promising careers had been launched in the research labs there. Plus, it would get me out of playing teacher to a group of nervous interns who were at most ten years younger than me in the center's tiny version of a glorified hospital. But in reality, neither choice was for me; working with interns was unlikely because of my lack of experience in an educational role, but to be placed in that role would mean little freedom in my work and the possibility of either being transferred onto a starship on a whim or never going into space again. On the other hand, research opportunities were numerous and new ones were constantly springing up, but most of the current opportunities didn't fit my position. Most importantly, though, research conflicted with both my desire to actively practice medicine and also my ultimate goal of becoming a starship CMO, preferably sooner rather than later.
Dr. Eggleton's loud sigh brought my attention back to him. He was still examining my resume on the monitor. "Yes, yes, very impressive… a degree in space psychology as well, very good. Shame you were just a few months too late to join the relief mission on Capella IV, it certainly would've made for a good experience for you, a chance to meet some other brilliant doctors, too; CMO's, professors, research team leaders… hhmmm, well, there does appear to be something you might be interested in; there is currently vaccine research underway for choriomeningitis at the Medical Center, it's a position I initially offered to Leonard McCoy, but he may be reconsidering. You are familiar with Dr. McCoy, I assume?"
I shook my head. "I've never met him, but I am familiar with some of his work," I hesitated. "I know I probably shouldn't ask, but why'd he turn the research down?'
"Well, he hasn't officially decided yet, but Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise offered him his old position as Chief Medical Officer back for it's five-year mission. It's a shame to see such a brilliant doctor like him turn down this opportunity, but to accept a posting on the USS Enterprise is actually a remarkable opportunity itself, and with such an elite and promising mission ahead, a ship like that does need all the capable surgeons it can get…"
I held back a sigh; "elite" and "promising" missions were what I hoped my Starfleet career to be made of, not hours on end spent in a lab because I was convinced I was needed there. But what Dr. Eggleton had just said was true, too, there was a shortage of doctors aboard starships as well. True, I had just returned from one mission-and an extremely difficult and tragic one at that- so expecting to be offered an assignment on another ship so soon was madness. But if space was where I was needed, then why shouldn't I be there? It was beginning to occur to me that perhaps I was just a little too space-crazy and looking for a way out of being stuck on planet Earth for longer than necessary. I tired not to think that way, but all too often it seemed to be at least partially true. But part of me couldn't help but wonder at the same time if Dr. Eggleton wasn't trying to get me inquire about the Enterprise on purpose. After all, it was the opportunity of a lifetime, and one that would ultimately show my dedication to a career in Starfleet. A plan was forming in my mind.
He considered me for a moment before speaking again. "Well, I can't say that I didn't briefly think about setting up a meeting concerning your placement there, Dr. Zoellner, but I never thought much of it, considering everything you've just been through. Of course, there are several ships in need of medical personnel, but few would require your level of skill and I don't think you would find the promotion you are looking for right away, but potentially in the near future, perhaps. I do think that the Harcourt will be looking for a new Assistant CMO once it's been re-outfitted for its next mission, but that won't be for half a year yet…"
"Sir, to be honest, I was hoping for a placement on the Enterprise. I don't want to compete with Dr. McCoy for CMO, but you haven't mentioned if there was an opening for an Assistant CMO on that ship as of yet." I all but held my breath as the Surgeon General sat back in his chair, deliberating. After all, it was pretty ambitious - maybe even pretentious - for me to be asking for a such a prestige assignment, and on a five-year mission on the Enterprise, no less. With missions of such importance and extreme length, too, this wasn't typically the way it worked; they asked you to accept a posting, not the other way around. And besides, I had few "connections," except, of course, for my newly captain-ed brother, who also happened to have been close Academy buddies with Captain Kirk of the Enterprise, and my former captain and CMO of the Harcourt, who I was sure would put in a good word for me for whatever my next posting was. But if getting on this mission was what I really wanted, I didn't want my brother's help.
Dr. Eggleton gave me a long, stern look, then cleared his throat. "the Enterprise does, of course, still need a good deal of medical personnel, and I've no doubt that with a ship that size, its CMO would benefit from having an Assistant CMO, which you appear more than qualified to be, Dr. Zoellner. But since I still haven't recieved confirmation of Dr. McCoy's posting as CMO yet, I can't exactly say who any possbile cadidates for ACMO might be.
"Tell you what. As you probably already know, Captain Carmichael is having a, um... retirement party this coming week. Dr. McCoy and Captain Kirk should both be there; I'm assuming, of course, you were invited?"
I nodded. I knew the whole situation. Captain Carmichael of the Atlas had been a successful and well-respected officer in Starfleet, as brave as they come, but only a single tragic accident on an away mission to bring him down. In a coma for nearly a month, my brother Mark, his first officer, has been forced to assume command as acting captain. The captain eventually did come out of his coma, but the noxious gas he'd encountered on the planet's surface had attacked his nerves, leaving the entire right side of his body paralyzed and Mark in command for the remainder of the mission. Carmichael had, of course, been offered desk jobs and teaching possitions at the Academy, but he had turned them all down, choosing insead to retire from Starfleet and end his career on his own terms. Following the mission, Mark had officially been made a captain, and was a sort of "guest of honor" at the party, and so I had been invited by him. Now that I knew two certain people would be there, however, I felt that I actually now had a real reason to go.
"So, yes, they'll both be there," Dr. Eggleton continued, "and I'm sure it can be arranged for you to meet them sometime while you're there. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to hear what you have to say."
"Thank you very much, doctor," I rose to leave, and held out my had to him.
"A dress uniform appropriate occassion, of course," he said, graspign my hand briefly. I nodded, smiled, and said my polite goodbye as I made my way out into the reception area again. Maybe moving on with my career really was all I needed to do to move on with my life; after all, it had worked for me before. I smiled ruefully, thinking that that would be exactly what crabby old Dr. Edbardiar would want me to do, and I'd be damned if I disappointed him. The Harcourt was beginning to seem farther and farther away the more I thought about the Enterprise. A new ship would be a fresh start. I sighed, feeling an odd sense of relief mixed with triumph. The meeting had not been anything I had expected, but who was to say that I nothing would come of it? I was a doctor, not a miracle worker, but I knew it wouldn't take a miracle to get on the Enterprise, just the right skills, the right approach, and some good old-fashioned Zoellner charm. Oh yeah, I was as good as ACMO already.
A/N: Well, that's the revised version of chapter one for ya, hope it wasn't too angsty-sounding. I didn't do anything to chap. 2 (as of right now, anyway), so you won't find any mention of the Harcourt mission in there, but it's in chap. 3, which is why I wanted to go back and fix this one. ~Leanne the Rocket Dog