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Side Sim: Primary Medical Suite - Two Birds, One Stone.

Posted March 14, 2021, 12:48 p.m. by Lieutenant Commander Isyme zh'Siaqir (Assistant Chief Medical Officer) (Trin S)

“Do I have to?” Zahir pouted, plopping onto his bed with a sizable groan. “We just got here. Can’t the poking and prodding wait ‘til tomorrow?”

“Spare me the dramatics,” Siaqir teased, eyeing him through a nearby mirror. “Would you rather be ‘poked and prodded’ with me today,” she snagged a tie and worked to tame her wild curls into a bun, “or tomorrow? Alone.”

“You’d make me go alone?” Zahir lifted his head, raised his eyelids and afforded his mother a horrified stare. He earned a hum. “Nope!” He pressed his hands into the mattress and flung himself off the bed. “I would rather eat mouldy tuber root.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Then go get ready,” Siaqir playfully checked her watch, “because I’m leaving in five minutes with or without you.” She watched the colour drain out of his cheeks as he rushed off to find the stuffed redbat he’d neglected to his bag that morning. It was a wonder he’d survived the day without him. Shaking her head, Siaqir straightened her uniform and followed suit.


It wasn’t long before the pair shuffled through the first set of doors and were promptly thwarted by the second’s refusal to part.

“Zhavey?” Zahir was practically raised in sickbay. He’d swung his feet by the edge of a biobed while his mother performed midnight inventories, watched as she scolded an Ensign for their carelessness, and tried to reach out while he was whisked away in a nurse’s arms at the first inkling of an emergency. But he’d never seen anything like this. “What’s going on?”

“It’s okay, Zahir.” Siaqir gently squeezed his hand. “The system’s just making sure we don’t have any space bugs or a sleepy virus that decided to hitch a ride on our clothes.” She tossed him a smile. “You’re fine. It won’t hurt you.”

“What if I had space bugs? Or worse- space worms?” He shot his mother a pointed look, eyeing bugging. “Would it hurt then?”

“I don’t think so-”

“You don’t think so?” Zahir fired back. “So I could walk in there with like a whole bunch of bugs and.. and you don’t think it would zap me or something?”

“Zee,” amusement glittered in Siaqir’s eyes. “I was kidding. The worst it would - probably - do is set off an alert.” Zahir’s whim for the dramatic didn’t allow for dull days.

“That’s comforting.” Zahir deadpanned, watched as the second set of doors finally peeled open, and observed his mother with a lazy eye. He narrowed one slightly, the other wide albeit tense, and took a step back. “You go first.” He cocked his head to doors. “Just to make sure.”

Siaqir stifled a sigh. She bent her elbows up, palms facing Zahir, and backed into Primary Sickbay. “See?” She extended a hand to Zee. “Harmless.”


Scarred fingers immobilised by her son’s death-grip, Siaqir coaxed him into the reception area and moseyed up to the desk. “Excuse me?” Her voice rang free with a thick, almost glacial accent that didn’t quite fit the courtesy of her words. “Hi. My name is Isyme Siaqir, and this is my son Zahir; we’re here for a quick boarding physical if there’s time to spare.”

Siaqir appreciated the chaos of a new ship, so she afforded the option of a later appointment, trusting her son wouldn’t be opposed to evading his physical for a little longer. He was strangely… distrusting for the child of a physician. Siaqir blamed that on his chavan.

– Isyme zh’Siaqir, aCMO


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