What Sensors Show
Posted on September 2nd, 2015 by Kymar Dremel

He leaned forward on the chair as the internal sensors began to calibrate themselves, his eyes watching the various signature waves migrate into identical patterns, medical biosign readings merging with lifeform readings, further merging with the technical readouts from comm badge signatures which again fed into the overall internal sensors readouts to form one sinuous line. He could have left it up to Engineering, but the cargo bay was currently off-limits and he had no way to even begin sorting out which of his medical requisitions were correct, which ones he’d have to send back for replacements, and which lucky finds he might keep for the Atlantis, so for now he was calibrating internal sensors.

Dremel’s thumb scrolled across the ship’s layout, the sensors moving along with him. He could see the Admiral heading through the airlock and making his way into the bowels of the ship. The biosign monitors showed steady heartbeats – perhaps a tinge of excitement, adrenaline levels were about 2% higher than normal for the Human/Betazoid Commanding Officer. He wondered what kind of Captain would the man be? He’d gone over Blackthorne’s records, of course – an accomplished pilot, engineer, leader – although his service record showed him to be prone to rebellion if his personal ideals didn’t line up with the establish rules. Idealistic, was the phrase his psych profile used, and it fit what he’d read. So far Blackthorne’s force of will had been ample enough to carry that idealism through to success, stopping wars, saving entire races, and keeping the ship and crew safe – He could see much of himself in that, fighting for what’s right as opposed to following orders. Maybe it would be enough. It certainly promised an interesting tour of duty, and hopefully the chance to do something good in the universe again.

The Doctor’s gaze moved from the Admiral to the woman standing next to him. His biosign sensors had tied in nicely and seemed to be synched up with the internal monitor – heartrate showed a slow and steady two-fourty BPM, blood pressure seventy-nine over fourty. That’d make her Commander T’Kirr, the Vulcan. His mind flicked back over the decades to remember the last time he’d worked with a Vulcan – although Stelakh had been unusual, even for that odd race – and felt a brief bit of excitement at the thought of working with another. Her record hadn’t been as exciting as the Admiral’s, but he had seen that she was scientist and a student of Xenology, which meant that he might finally have someone to talk to about the Andorian Genetics Conference or that paper he’d read on Bolian Xeno-biological philosophies.

Sitting back in his chair he watched as they moved out of view, letting the sensors finish calibrating themselves. The weariness of the past weeks seemed to weight on his shoulders like a stone, getting just a little heavier every minute. His body wanted to retire to the cot in Sickbay and sleep for a few hours, but his mind wandered, knowing that his new CO would probably want to drop in and see his new Chief Physician, and that he wanted to get a read on the man himself outside of medical records and a service history.

Sleep could wait a few more hours.