Posted on November 20th, 2015 by Kymar Dremel CMO Commander Kymar Dremel, Stardate 11511.18
Paperwork never stopped.
It got delegated around, passed off and transferred, but it never truly stopped and it probably never would. Just like Subspace it was practically a universal constant, but on the flip-side it meant that department heads got their own offices even on cramped little boats like the Aquarius. Not all of it was even from the officer’s assigned vessel, it wasn’t uncommon for him to get daily alerts from the Andorian Genetics Council, or the the Vulcan Research Institute – Requisitions for medicines, access to developmental research files, allergen alerts, case-note updates, all sorts of little vignettes that filled in the hours of the day.
Normally he’d pass most of this off to a junior officer, but Tyler was the only one onboard and right now Dremel was trying to think of anything but that particular situation. It was sometimes difficult to integrate into an unknown team, although he’d brought along a few of his most trusted officers from over the years, as the Chief Physician and head of Medical he had pretty much infinite leeway when it came to selecting his own medical team. Nurses, surgeons, doctors, researchers, they tended to move around and follow their favourites, transfers to different ships. It was Clique-y, especially Medical just because you sometimes spent 8 years of your formative years with some of these people and it’s hard to break those kinds of bonds.
But sometimes they stayed, and had to be integrated into the new clique, both sides getting used to the unknown elements until those bonds had formed. With Tyler he could feel that those bonds were still forming, the man was good at what he did but seemed to be lacking in a few crucial areas. Stubborn, headstrong, a little righteous. Good qualities in a doctor, if they could be hammered into the right shape, but to keep the blacksmithing analogy you couldn’t let them cool and harden too quickly. He had his work cut out for him, they both did, that was for sure.
All the thoughts of medical teams and transfers brought his eyes down to the transfer requests section on his terminal. Odd, he’d not lost anyone, and his team was as complete and it was going to get. Fingers on the controls, he brought it up on screen, scanning through it and the note marking it as ‘Urgent’ but with little else in the way of explanation.
“Who the hell is Kessel Moran?”
Muttering to himself, he wondered at the nerve of some people, throwing their weight around like they were entitled to whatever they wanted. He tapped the ‘Denied’ button and trashed the request, if someone wanted to join his team they could damn well talk to him first and go through the proper procedure instead of simply expecting a place on the Third Fleet’s Flagship and his medical team.
Without that out of the way, he picked up where he left off, opening up a request from Atlantis’ biogenics lab for .26 milligrams of bio-mimetic gel. The paperwork never stopped…