Stubborn Patients and Klingon Pride

Posted on 2025, Sat Oct 18th, @ 12:29pm by Lieutenant Commander Aubrie Fox & Civilian Lurok Brann & Sa K’Var Mok’tal & Lieutenant Commander Varen Dexal & Lieutenant JG Eska
Edited on on 2025, Thu Oct 30th, @ 11:31pm

1,301 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Episode 2: Pillars of the Theater - USS Vigilance, Star Base 113
Location: Decks 872 – Hospital Facilities - Main Medical Ward
Timeline: Day 5

The steady hum of biobed monitors filled the ward, mingling with the faint antiseptic scent of sterilizers. The chaos of last night’s fight had distilled into the orderly rhythm of medical work. Civilians were long since stabilized, but two Klingons remained as patients — and, in truth, as reminders.

Lurok Brann sat propped against a biobed, one massive arm bandaged where Fox had slammed him into a storefront wall. His glare, however, was unbowed.
“You fight well… for someone so small,” he rumbled toward her, lips quirking as if he couldn’t decide between sneer and grudging respect.

Sa K’Var Mok’tal, the Liaison, occupied the neighboring bed, his ribs bound with a regenerator still humming low against his side. His voice was sharp, dismissive.
“Brann was always more brawn than wit. It takes little effort to outmaneuver him.”

Brann let out a harsh bark of laughter, ignoring the sting as his ribs protested.
“Says the Liaison who allowed himself to be dragged here like a beaten targ.”

The tension between the two was immediate, alive in the sterile air. The medical ward might as well have been another battlefield.

Fox leaned against the bulkhead, bruises at her jaw and temple now reduced to faint discoloration thanks to treatment, but her stance was still ready, arms folded.
“You two really don’t quit, do you? I don’t know what’s more impressive — that you’re still standing after last night, or that you’ve managed to annoy every single doctor in this ward in less than six hours.”

She smirked slightly, despite the weariness in her eyes.
“And before either of you get any bright ideas — if I have to tackle a Klingon again today, it’s going to be because one of you tried getting out of that bed.”

A tall Denobula male walked into the main sickbay. His muscular form filled his uniform well as he approached the two Klingons lying on the biobeds. With a smile, he greeted them, "And how are you, fine two gentlemen, doing today?" He glanced at the panels above their heads that showed their vitals, "It seems you are doing well on the inside. Just be glad the biobed isn't talking." He glanced over at biobed two with suspicious eyes, "Not sure you would appreciate its jokes." The smile never ceased.

"So, gentlemen. Who threw the first punch?" Varen said, moving to check the regenerator on the ribs, "Oh come on, gentlemen. It's clear to see that something happened." He glanced over at the security officer standing close by, "Well, maybe it's none of my business."

Varen called over to Eska, who was assisting another patient, "Dr. Eska, how long has this Klingon been on the regenerator?"

Eska pondered the question. "A few minutes. Since they arrived here in Sickbay." She had said in her slow speech. Something about the much taller Doctor is unnerving her.

Looking over the reading some more. He tapped the Klingon on the shoulder, “A few more hours, my friend. With all the redundancies your species has, it takes more time.” He took a few more readings. “Everything looks in order. Do either of you have any questions?” The Denobulan doctor asked the two Klingons lying on the beds.

Fox pushed aside a stray lock of blond hair that had fallen across her face and fixed her gaze on the Doctor. Her expression was serious, underscoring the weight of her words. "Admiral Reacher has instructed us to keep this matter under wraps for the time being," she said, her voice low and urgent. The atmosphere in the room felt charged with unspoken tension, each word carrying the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.

"Of course." The Denobulan said with a smile, "I value doctor-patient confidentiality." Dr. Dexal said to the security officer. "What kind of doctor would I be if I spread rumors and said what happened to everyone?" He glanced over at biobed two, "I will at least keep it under wraps, but I can't speak for everyone. We should ALL keep it under wraps." He said a little louder than it needed to be.

Eska may not be the smartest in the room, but she knew how to keep her mouth shut. She only went about her work, a bit slower as she was remembering some of her schooling.

"Doctor, should I be concerned about Biobed 2?" Fox asked, her voice edged with anxiety as she observed the medical bay. The doctor kept glancing at the biobed, and a palpable tension filled the air. She instinctively placed her hand on the holster of her phaser pistol, resting at her thigh, ready for any sudden developments. The sterile environment of the room, with its humming equipment and the faint beeping of monitors, contrasted sharply with her growing unease.

A friendly smile stretched across the Denobulan's face. "I would not worry about it. It is only a minor glitch that I am working on. It is quite harmless."

The hum of medical equipment was steady, rhythmic — almost calming after the chaos of the previous night. The biobeds glowed softly, casting blue reflections over the brushed duranium walls. The two Klingons, Sa K’Var Mok’tal and Lurok Brann, rested uneasily. One eye cracked open now and then to glare at Fox, who remained standing near the door, arms crossed. Her blonde hair, though tied back, had strands that caught the morning light.

K’Var shifted, grumbling under his breath. “We fought with honor. It is humans who turn every brawl into an incident.”

Fox rolled her eyes slightly. “You call knocking out a table, three chairs, and a waiter an ‘incident’? You’re lucky the Admiral didn’t toss you both in the brig for a week.”

Lurok gave a low laugh, wincing as he touched his ribs. “That waiter should not have insulted the grill’s sauce.”

Fox pinched the bridge of her nose. “It was ketchup, Lurok. Ketchup.”

From across the bay, one of the biobeds chirped, and a nearby console displayed a minor fluctuation in bio-readings. The Denobulan doctor — Dr. Varen Dexal, Chief Medical Officer of SB113 — moved quickly but calmly toward the source.

“Ah, see? Even your bed is tired of hearing about condiments,” he quipped, flashing a grin as he adjusted the readings. “Everything’s normal. Though, I might recommend avoiding any sauce-related arguments for at least forty-eight hours.”

Eska passed by with a medical tray, shooting the Klingons a cautious look before quietly checking the chart at the foot of Lurok’s bed. Her gaze flicked toward Varen, awaiting silent confirmation before proceeding.

Fox stepped closer to K’Var’s bedside, her tone firm but even. “You’ll both be debriefed later today. Admiral Reacher made it clear — this stays quiet. The fewer eyes and ears involved, the better.”

K’Var gave a small nod, pride still glinting behind his ridged brow. “The Admiral carries weight. I will honor his request.”

Lurok smirked. “Still, I hope the biobed keeps its silence as well.”

Fox crossed her arms again, expression flat. “If it doesn’t, I’ll personally reprogram it to report to the mess hall.”

The tension in the room finally began to ease — the kind of slow exhale that comes after chaos. Fox looked toward the viewing window, where sunlight from the planet below shimmered faintly against the station’s curve.

“I’m going to check in with Security,” she said, glancing back at the two doctors. “If either of these two decide to test your patience again, call me.”

She turned and exited, her boots echoing softly down the corridor until the doors hissed shut.

The silence lingered for a moment, broken only by the soft thrum of the biobeds and the occasional Klingon grunt.

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