The Host With The Most

Posted on Sat Aug 11th, 2012 @ 6:43pm by Lieutenant Commander William Harding M.D. & Commander Oralia Zeferino

Mission: Sections of the Delta Quadrant
Location: Sickbay/Science

Now that things had settled down, Harding had time to get to the next thing on his list. The ‘next thing’ was a someone - a young Trill who was about to get the surprise of his life. He settled in behind the desk in his office and began to scan the young man’s file. His name was Ian, twenty-three years old. Harding glossed over the physical information, he’d seen it before when Ian was assigned to 900 several weeks ago, including some minor physical issues that had either been corrected or could not be, which explained his rejection a few years ago by the Symbiosis Commission. Harding smiled at that. They had always struck him as overly exclusive and critical, stuck-up to her the slang term. Well, that was about to change and the idea of doing an end run around them pretty much made his day. He pressed his comm badge and called Kiere out at the main reception desk.

“Can you please have Ensign Leyva report to my office immediately.”

=^= Acknowledged, I’ll send him right in Doctor =^=

Harding rose to refresh his coffee as he waited.

* * *Science Area* * *

When Ian received the message, he was elbow deep in an environmental waste recycler bin pulled from one of the hydroponics bay. The plants in that particular bay were all suffering from an unusual fungus and he’d drawn the short straw in the debate about who’d get the worst of the dirty jobs. To say that the message was unwelcome would be incorrect - Ian was thrilled to pass the job on to the NCO assisting him. “Piper Medical calls... there must be something wrong!”, he said to the NCO as he stripped off his gloves and plasticized lab coat.

“Yeah... What’s wrong is leaving me with this mess,” the NCO grumped... to no one in particular; Ian was quick on his feet when he wanted to be.

* * *Piper Medical* * *

“Doctor Harding asked me to report to him?” Ian informed the receptionist and gave her his name. His dark brows were drawn inward in a worried expression. On his way here, he had started to wonder just why the CMO would want to see him. Had his genetics caught up with him? Had something shown up from his last physical?

He nodded to the receptionist as she told him to go in. “Doctor Harding? Ensign Leyva, reporting as requested, sir.”

“Come in, Ensign, please have a seat.” Harding motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “And close the door please.”

Now Ian was more than a touch worried. He pressed the button to close the door then took a seat in front of the older man’s desk. “Sir, is there something wrong with me?”

“Not exactly. In fact, today could be your lucky day, depending on your point of view, Ensign.” Harding smiled as he reached for his coffee.

“Excuse me?” Ian’s brow wrinkled and he watched the doctor take a sip of his coffee.

“I am aware that following your Academy graduation, you returned home for assessment to be joined, and were subsequently rejected, based on some minor physical issues. Were there other reasons or was that the total of the Commission’s concerns?”

“The psychological exam results were fine, as far as I was made aware.” The Commission wasn’t about to tell non-joined Trills that they were psychopaths, though. “I was told my extra chromosome and my birth defect were the cause of my rejection.” It still rankled; being joined was one of the highest honors a Trill could have. The disappointment had led Ian to request a posting as far from anyone who’d care as possible.

Harding nodded, pulling a padd across the desk to rest before him. “What would you say to giving the Commission the finger?”

“Excuse me?” If Ian’s brows drew down any further, they’d be on his nose. But he stared at Harding hard, trying to discern what the man might be referring to. Then he realized: the best way to give the Commission the finger would be to get joined. “Is someone dying, Doctor Harding?”

“To put it bluntly, yes, but it’s an unusual situation.” He paused as he studied Ian. “Might I get you something to drink while we talk?”

“Um, ok,” the Ensign nodded. Whatever the Commander said, he’d go along with. “A joined Trill host is dying? And... I’m unjoined and conveniently available?”

Harding rose and stepped to the replicator, where he ordered a glass of lemonade and carried it back to Ian. “In a nutshell. And while I may find the Commission’s standards a little too exacting, I do uphold its mission to preserve the symbionts. Especially in this case.”

“That’s... um... why ‘especially in this case’?” He took the lemonade and sipped it.

“Because this host was my chief surgeon, who was responsible for kidnapping two civilians from this station and trying to kill them. In one case she almost succeeded. Her current predicament is due to a gross miscalculation. She underestimated the second civilian, who was the reason that both civilians survived.” Harding paused a moment. That particular turnabout greatly amused him, and he made a note to get hold of Cassidy and share his admiration.

Sitting quietly, Ian digested the information Harding had just given him. He was being offered a chance to be joined, but the symbiont was coming from a host who, together with the symbiont, had been involved in criminal activities.... The idea kept his brows deeply furrowed. “I’m not trained. How will... those memories... what if... what if I become like her?”

“I suspect that the ill-conceived plan was all Natalia’s, not the symbiont. The Bren symbiont has no history of criminal tendencies, in fact its record is rather pedestrian.”

“Oh, ok. What about training? Will I go through that before joining?”

“As it happens, we have one here that is willing to work with you, though how much time you’ll have beforehand is unknown. Natalia is failing, so it could be days or...hours. Either way, Lt. Tigan, the Assistant Chief Of Operations will be assisting you.”

Assistant Chief of Ops... oh boy, Ian realized he’d be socializing, sort of, way above his pay grade. “Are you asking me to do this or telling me?”

Harding’s smile returned and Leyva gained a few points in his estimation. “A valid question. I could order it, but this is a huge change for you, as well as a chance to do what you’ve always hoped for. Granted, it will be a lot of trial by fire, but I would hope that you’d be willing.”

“I am, sir.” Ian grinned, realizing he could do so many things as a joined Trill that he couldn’t do as an unjoined one. For starters, he could prove that genetic defects shouldn’t disqualify a Trill from being joined. “When do we start?”

“I will be going in to see her when we are done, so that I may do a full assessment. I’ll know more then, so we can arrange the procedure. Expect to be on call however, in case she takes a bad turn unexpectedly.”

“Will do, Sir.” Ian set the lemonade down and realized his hands were shaking. “I have work to do in the lab. But, of course, you can find me wherever I am,” he smiled, unsure of himself.

Harding eyed his hands, then met his eyes. “Are you alright, ensign?”

“Ah, yes, Sir. Just a touch,” he cleared his throat, “um... nervous and excited. Not often that a rejected Trill gets told that they’re on call to be joined. I think I’ll go put these hands to work.” He stood, smoothed his tunic and said, “By your leave, Commander?”

“Of course, and thank you Ensign Leyva. I’ll notify Lt. Tigan, who will be in touch with you in the meantime.” Harding stood and offered his hand to Ian.

Ian shook the man’s hand, nodded and departed, feeling almost giddy about this turn of events.

_____________________
Ensign Ian Leyva
Botanist in Science

Dr. William Harding
Chief Medical Officer