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| - Quinton took the turbolift down to deck four and headed for sickbay. It, like the bridge, had settled down somewhat, preparations for the launch having been long since completed. There was not much to do now but maintain standard conditions and await their arrival at their destination. A couple members of the medical staff moved about, tidying up and tending to minor injuries. Dalton was toward the back, near his office, examining a computer display. “Do you have a minute, Doctor?” Dalton glanced at him. “Yes, Captain?” “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you much. Do the facilities meet your specifications?” The doctor glanced appraisingly around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Modest, but suitable for a ship of this size.” “I’d imagine that will take some getting used to after serving on a Galaxy-class ship. But at least you’ve finally made Chief Medical Officer.” “Yes,” Dalton said wryly, “but I’d welcome some peace right now. The Pioneer is a fine ship and I’m sure I’ll be happy here.” “Glad to hear it. Now, I am here for a larger reason. I wanted to ask you if there was some sort of problem between you and Doctor Powell.” Dalton hesitated. “Problem, sir?” “There seemed be something between you two during the meeting earlier. Rather, there seemed not to be something. You appeared to be avoiding each other rather carefully. Something I should know about?” “There was a... disagreement. Yesterday.” “What about?” “Nothing of substance. I'll admit I did lose my temper, but he simply refused to identify himself after I asked him several times. He acted like it was a game. He criticized my medical technique in front of a patient and then launched into some sarcastic explanation about how prefers to be called 'doctor' rather than 'counselor'. I was only asking a few questions, but he became quite agitated and left. He's quite odd; I'm not sure how I'm supposed to work with him.” “I suggest you try, Doctor.” “I certainly will, but I don’t think he’s going to make it easy.” “I’ll look into the matter, but I can tell you right now, neither of you are going anywhere. For this mission, at least, you are going to have to work together.” Dalton was clearly displeased but made no further challenges. “All right.” “Thank you. Carry on.” Quinton turned and walked out of sickbay. When the doors shut behind him, one of the medical staff members, a short woman with Lieutenant junior grade’s pips, ambled toward Dalton. She narrowed a pair of dark brown eyes at him. “I don’t think he's happy with you.” “Are all of the new physicians coming out of Starfleet Medical Academy these days as impudent as you, Dr. Usman?” “Well, I don’t think he did. And the way you talked about Doctor Powell—” “The way I—? I only told him what happened.” “If you say so. I can’t see you changing your attitude, myself, but then you heard what the Captain said.” “Yes, I did, because he said it to me.” “I’m the Assistant Chief Medical Officer. How can I assist you if I don’t know what’s happening?” “I’ll tell you what’s happening: I’m in hell. Obviously.” “You’re just saying that because we kept getting in each other’s way when we were stuck in here alone until the nurses got here.” Dalton groaned and stalked off into his office. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll be here until my shift ends,” she called after him. Usman turned her back on him and walked a few steps into the center of the ward. “I actually do rather like him,” she said softly, with a hint of a mischievous smile. The counselor’s office was not far from sickbay. Powell was alone, behind his desk. “Can I help you, Captain?” “I heard you had an argument with Doctor Dalton yesterday.” “Did he complain?” “I asked. Want to tell me what happened?” “I went into sickbay to introduce myself and I made a comment about his bedside manner. I'll admit that's probably none of my business, but it doesn’t mean I was wrong and it doesn't excuse what he did next. He became hostile, and when I explained how I liked to be referred to, he started arguing with me about it. I told him it was a personal preference, but he was so dismissive. So, I left. He must be a good physician to be here, but he's not very pleasant.” “There are some who would agree with you, but I'm afraid you're stuck with each other. You’ll have to learn how to work together. I want this resolved and if you two can’t manage it, I’ll facilitate a meeting. However, I’d rather not involve myself more than I already have. I’m sure you can appreciate my duties and how pleased I would be if I wasn’t forced to take any more time away from them.” “Understood.” “Excellent.” Gerard bounded out of the lift and into the hallway. He spun around to face Watley as she followed him out. "That was exciting! Moorings cleared, thrusters ready....” He jogged backwards. “I’ve never been on the bridge while we’re leaving spacedock before.” Watley eyed him skeptically. “You are a very strange person.” “Oh, I know. But it makes life so interesting.” “What would make my life interesting right now would be a cup of coffee and something to eat.” They reached the mess hall and made a beeline for the replicators. Ahead of them, receiving her order was Kasun. Watley nodded her way. “There's Phil. Have you met her?” Gerard shook his head. “I don't think so. Friend of yours?” “I met her yesterday. Come on, I'll introduce you.” She picked up her pace. “Ensign Kasun,” she called. “Hello. How are you today?” “Ah... hello, sir.” She glanced at Gerard as he walked up behind Watley. “Sirs. I'm fine; how are you?” “Very well, thank you. Have you met Lieutenant Gerard?” “Not exactly.” This gave Watley pause for a moment, but then she pressed ahead. “Well... Tolly, this is Phil Kasun, Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer. Phil, this is Tolly Gerard, Chief Science Officer.” “Pleased to meet you, sir.” “Tolly, please, and so am I.” He glanced between them. “Are you meeting someone? No? You should come sit with us.” Kasun let out a little sigh. “Um... all right.” Gerard looked Watley's way. If she noticed anything, her face didn't show it. “That all right with you, Watley?” “Of course it is. Fine.” She clasped her hands. “I guess we should go get a table now.” He took a few steps backwards. “I'll do that; you go ahead and get your food first.” Watley gave him a puzzled look, but did not offer a challenge. She nodded wordlessly and turned to the replicator. Gerard, with Kasun trailing behind him, strode toward the opposite end of the mess hall—out of Watley's earshot. He chose an open table in the corner by the windows. They both sat down and almost immediately, Gerard fixed her with an intense gaze. “So, what's going on between you and Watley?” Kasun sipped her drink. “I don't think I know what you mean,” she replied in a carefully controlled voice. “Please. I am nowhere near the most socially savvy person around, and even I can feel the shock waves of tension radiating from you two.” “If you say so, sir.” “Tolly. None of us are on duty and I would like a straight answer. If you don't want to give me one, fine, by say it to me and not my rank insignia.” “All right.” Another sip. “You don't like her?” Kasun shook her head. “No, I like her very much. She knows this is my first assignment and she tries to make me feel more comfortable. I appreciate that. I think we'll like working together.” “But judging by whatever that was back there, I would say you have difficulty socializing with her. Is it because she's your superior officer? Some people have problems separating their professional and personal spheres.” She frowned, but didn't respond. Gerard settled back in his chair and crossed his arms. “No, I don't think so. What is it, then?” “You're pretty nosy, you know.” “Yes, I am. But I like Watley, and I even think I rather like you thus far. I hate conflict, and this is my small effort to avoid it.” A familiar voice coming from Gerard's combadge broke in. “Tolly, are you about ready to change the subject yet?” Gerard and Kasun shared a puzzled expression. “Watley?” he asked tentatively. “That's right. My food is getting cold over here.” He spun around and spotted her sitting at a table near the replicators. She gave him a small, less than enthusiastic wave. “Why are you over there?” “Well, after the thirty seconds it took to get my lunch, I got close enough to hear you two were talking about me. I must have been in a good mood because I decided to let you. Your conversation hasn't shown any sign of letting up until now, so I would like to know if I might possibly join you now. Or would you like to humiliate me further today?” “It's not like that, it's—” “Save it. I think I'll stay here.” “I think I'll take this back to my quarters,” Kasun added softly. Gerard motioned at her to stop. “Wait, everybody, just a minute. Let's just talk about this, all right? Watley? Oh come on, you're not even speaking to me now? Please?” Kasun shook her head and stood up. “Phil—“ She held a hand up to silence him and walked off briskly without another word.
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