Cuffs And 'Medicine'

Posted on Thu Nov 2nd, 2023 @ 1:45am by Captain Calypso Skyie & Ensign Cormac MacArthur

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: Main Hanger Bay

The size of the hanger aboard the Luna-class ship Chimera was rather large, which meant that a sizeable number of shuttles and other craft were able to fit into it. One of them, however, wasn't supposed to be there at all, presuming that the observer knew anything at all about the science-based nature of the Lunas. One thing they didn't have was a Razor-class Interceptor, yet one sat there in the corner of the bay, gleaming with deadly purpose, but stripped clean of all markings, with one person fussing over it.

The woman was obviously not a spring chicken, showing signs of ageing despite the bright blonde hair that she kept brushing back over a shoulder, the flightsuit she wore half removed and tied around her waist the white tank top she wore not hiding much of her figure and already damp with sweat as she rubbed the metallic sheen of the craft even as a shuttle came in on final approach. The woman glanced over for a few moments as the skids hit the deck harder than she liked, but then returned her focus to the craft she was working on already.

As the vessels ramp came down, a male voice that seemed rather shaky came from the frame, "Look, just let me have one more. I need to have one more, the doctors said it will take time, just....just give me my daily dose." Cormac decended the ramp, following the pilot of the vessel in question. In plain terms, he looked like hell. At one time, this man might have been fit and attractive but now, he seemed to be showing a lack of weight control and self care. His uniform was even a bit tight fitting as though he was pushing the limits on the waist.

"No, your daily dose must now be administered by the doctor onboard this vessel and no one else. Now, you already had me come in rather rough, but I am looking forward to the quiet ride home." Said the woman with whom Cormac was following. "Is there anyone that can relieve me of this man?" She asked aloud, sounding very irritated and borderline irate in tone toward Cormac.

A Petty Officer sitting behind one of the consoles looked up in irritation from the PADD he was reading and sighed heavily as he pushed himself up from his seat, eliciting a look from the woman working on the fighter. He slowly, VERY slowly walked over to the new arrivals and looked over first the complaining man (quickly) and the female pilot (far more slowly and deliberately) and sneered at Cormac, "I suppose you're planning on dumping him on me?"

"Yes. This PADD will explain everything." The woman pilot said before presenting the PADD. "In short, Ensign Cormac MacArthur is effectively now in your hands. In the shuttle is some of his 'medication'" she said giving air quotes, "that needs to be administered to by you ships Doctor daily." She then turned to Cormac and smiled, "Okay, I am leaving now." she turned back to the Petty Officer, "The code for his cuffs are in the document. I would make sure he doesn't get released until he has had his daily dose otherwise he might try some smooth tactics. He already tried on me." The woman said with a distained look. Anything else you need from me?"

Cormac frowned as he raised his cuffs to his mouth and scratched his beard. "Where is your doctor? I need my medication." he said with still a shaky voice.

"Shuddup." The PO's eyes left the woman and went to the cuffs on Cormac's wrists and his face went from neutral to... Something else, then back to the pilot, "Have the stuff transported over to sickbay while I find a cell for him." He looked back at the Ensign, "Now we're getting drug addicts?"

"Matthews." The cool voice of the other woman in the shuttlebay echoed from where she'd essentially sneaked up on them, and caught the PO up short.

"Ma'am." He replied.

"Take his medication to sickbay, I'll handle him from here." Her cool blue eyes gave the order its bite, though no rank insignia were visible at the moment.

"Yes, ma'am." The PO agreed, taking the bundle that the pilot brought from within the shuttle.

"Lieutenant, I'll take responsibility for him." She held her hand out for the PADD and scrawled an illegible signature on it, "Good flight back."

The pilot smiled and nodded, "Thank you. Best of luck to you all out here." She said before nodded and turning around to head to the shuttle to assist with the medication retrieval.

"Cell? No one said I would be going into a cell....then again, no one said anything about where I was headed anyway." Cormac said scratching his neck as he thought out loud, "Come to think of it, all medical said was I was cleared enough to resume work." His hands went to his mouth where he began to clean his nails with his teeth. This man was clearly off his rocker to some extent.

"I think we can dispense with the cell... And the cuffs." She reached out and input a code on the cuffs, removing them and tossing them back on the shuttle. "Come with me." The woman stated, turning to walk back to the fighter where she picked up the cloth she'd been rubbing over the metal to make it shine, "Tell me a bit about yourself?" She glanced over her shoulder at him for a few seconds, "I'll only be a few more minutes, I just wanted to get this done."

Cormac nodded and began to rub his wrists, there we indents where he was pressing against the cuffs so hard. "I..I am a pilot. Fighter pilot, or at least...I was. I got sick and well...lost it all, even Yani." His face began to frown, "They tell me I am addicted to this plant I was offered on some distant world. I prefer to say I am elevated with it....it's what I take now once a day? Or is it twice? God I hope it's twice." He sniffed as if he was thinking of something aromatic. "I am...on the mend the doctors said." He then looked around the place, "Say, where am I? I wasn't privy to anything, not even where I am or what I would be doing."

"You're on board the USS Chimera right now, a ship out beyond the edge of Federation space, crewed by the brand new officers just out of the Academy and career fuckups." The blonde smiled over her shoulder at him again briefly before turning back to buff out a smudge before moving on to the nose of the craft, "'They tell you' that you're addicted to it? Are you, or aren't you? I think you should be able to know one way or the other. Can you live without it? Does it affect your duties? Aside from flying fighters, what else did you do on your past assignments?" This woman was full of questions, but there was something in the questions she was asking... No, HOW she was asking them, that she might know more than she was letting on.

"Ummm...I am currently twenty four ish hours since my last dose. I can say that I am..whats the words...finding it hard to focus. I need it to balance me out but they say I can go without. Something about it being mental I guess but I don't know. As for what I have done in the past, mostly farming but like..."Cormac closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths and with his eyes still closed he spoke, "I have skills in small fighter craft engines with type four warp engines and type nine impulse. I have served in the capacity of helm for my previous assignment but my passion is much smaller craft; something with power and force." his voice loosing the shakiness from it.

The blonde straightened up and took a step back in silence, looking over her work and nodding, tossing the cloth into a pile of others just like it, stained or dirty. She rolled her shoulders and fiddled with the tied arms of the flightsuit, "And it's going to suck to know that you aren't going to be flying them anymore, doesn't it?" She asked in a knowing voice.

Cormac was silent for a good thirty or so seconds. He took a deep breath and sighed out a flat "Yes, ma'am." showing respect but still not aware of who stood in front of her. All he knew is her rank was higher than that of his escort here.

In that time, she'd kept her back to him, but was obviously alert to his presence. She'd slipped her arms back into the sleeves and sealed the garment up a bit more than halfway, then turned around. The nametape on the flightsuit only had one name on it: 'Calamity' but wasn't a standard suit. Oh, it had the pockets that no pilot wanted to be without, but was designed to appear more like a standard uniform. Red was on the shoulders, but that could mean this was the Chief of Flight Control. There were no pips showing. "Honesty, good. We can work with that. No one is going to fly this ship or any of the craft on her when they're compromised. That's what's going on with you right now, something that I think can be solved given time and patience."

The woman started walking towards the doors and gave a 'come along' gesture to him, "I'm not supposed to fly fighters anymore myself and they frown upon me flying shuttles when I don't have to anymore, so believe me, I understand exactly what you're thinking." She smirked despite saying that, "What you saw in there? Consider it a mirage."

"I know nothing. It keeps me sane that way." Cormac said before slowly going back to itching. His hand hesitant to itch but the urge more powerful than him drew on his patience. "I was a bit...distracted on the way in. What class of vessel is she?" he asked now curious as to what he was on. His mind trying to focus on the conversation that he hoped would continue rather than the fixation of his next dose. He was doing much better than previously noted, some seven hours extra without needing another dose. Still not where Starfleet wanted him obviously but the fleet did care for him. Pretty much the only thing still going for him at this point.

"Chimera is a Luna-class starship, fully capable of supporting herself for several years, so long as we stop for a while to dismantle an asteroid or two for the raw materials." The woman mused, "Sixteen decks, two shuttlebays with eleven out of the designated ten craft, and a homegrown design of a mission pod that not only increases our potential firepower, but also makes us even more valuable in our primary scientific role. This ship, in particular, is right up our alley." The woman pondered a moment, then shrugged.

"She was originally named the Aegir, but ran across some sort of anomaly and got nearly destroyed. She was salvaged and rebuilt as part of the reserves even while her name was transferred to a new hull." She stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to face him fully, "I'm her CO, Captain Calypso Skyie, call sign is 'Calamity' because I used to be a fighter pilot before a couple accidents made them kick me out into the Fleet proper. I was a Marine before that, both a grunt during the Dominion War and an assault shuttle pilot. That's why I got given a broken-down ship and the dregs of the Fleet to crew her before they went and kicked me out of the Federation altogether." Once again, she smirked, "Little do they know, I don't mind a challenge. But what should I do with you, Cormac MacArthur? Any thoughts?"

Cormac forced himself to listen, giving all his effort in the process. Beads of sweat began to drip from his brow as he fought against his symptoms. "I do not know, ma'am. If it was me, I would have me locked away until I managed to get this out of my system, but that is counterproductive to why I am here. So the alternative is to work me back into shape."

"And it's an alternative that we're going to exercise." Calypso agreed with him, "Oh, we're going to get you A dose of your medication right quick, but I want Doc F'Arra to work closely with you to see what we can do about getting you off of it. Completely off. Then we'll see about restoring your flight status, at least the potential for it. But in concert with your medical workup, I'm going to put you to some use. I've got a newly minted Junior Grade Lieutenant running my Engineering section and she's going to be keeping her eye on you while you work for her. Lieutenant Jade has a boyfriend, mind you, and he's no slouch of a Security officer, plus he's pretty good with a sword. Do you think you're going to be able to handle all this?"

Cormac took a few deep breaths silently, "I will manage, ma'am. It is going to take me a bit until I am at a hundred percent but I will ensure that I give it my best effort." His hands now itching slightly. He was giving his best effort but it was about to fade fast. At least one hour after he takes his 'medication' he turns right as rain. It's just a very long journey there.

They rounded another corner, one that now brought the medical bay in sight, "Then let's get you into the claws of the Doctor." Cally suggested, "If Starfleet has its way, the only way we're getting off this ship is in a bodybag or an airlock and I've decided I don't want to breathe vacuum. Oh, and don't push the Doc too much about your medication. She's the professional and when I say in her claws, I really do mean it."

Cormac raised his eyebrow in alarm when it clicked in his head. He could not think of the species name, as he had rarely seen any but he knew they were a feline species. "Oh..." he said calmly following behind the Captain, "Well bodybag does sound at least like it can have an interesting story behind it."

"I was almost in one of them." Calypso confirmed, "Perhaps I'll let you in on it in the future, because too many of our people ended up in them." She stopped outside the medical bay door, then made a gesture towards it, "If you really wanted me in there with you, I can do so, but it might give the wrong impression."

Cormac took a deep breath and fixed his collar, he smiled nervously and said, "How do I look?" as he tightened his uniform's waist.

"Like someone who needs a bit of a fix." Cally said honestly, "Just do me a favor? Tell the doctor the truth and what matches your file. Consider this you proving to me that you want to be better."

Cormac raised a finger, "You are not wrong, Captain. I need one and to get better before I crash like a train against a brick wall." He nodded, "I will be honest, that I can't deny." He then turned and entered the doorway to sickbay.