Don't Stick Your Fingers in a Conduit

Posted on Thu Nov 13th, 2025 @ 1:50pm by Ensign Garabed "Garo" Hakobyan & Lieutenant JG Jezra Siv MD

1,133 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Peril at the Unification Accords
Location: Sickbay, Deck 12
Timeline: MD 05, 1350 Hours

The doors to Sickbay parted and Ensign Garo Hakobyan stepped through, holding his left arm close against his chest. The fabric of his sleeve was almost completely eaten away, black and stiff at the edges. The skin beneath was raw, shining, red with anger. He kept his face calm, like someone carrying a bucket of water across a courtyard--the liquid sloshing about inside but otherwise no drop spilled.

He looked around. Medical stations hummed, lights blinking, but there was only one person there with their back turned--they had chestnut hair in a pixie cut, and were short in stature.

"Eh," he said, lifting the arm slightly, "shuttle did not like my hands today. Power relay, she spits fire like my aunt when you insult her choreg. Caught me here." He tapped the charred sleeve with two fingers, winced, then let it hang again.

He gave a quick half-shrug. "I thought maybe little ointment, little patch, and I go. Otherwise I keep smelling like burnt goat in here, and you don’t want that."

His mouth twitched into something close to a smile--a half apology of sorts.

Jezra turned when a voice broke the casual silence in Sickbay, then her brow briefly lifted in surprise before medical training took over. "That will require a little more than some ointment, Ensign," they said, keeping their tone light. No tricorder was needed to identify a second degree electrical burn. The man's calm demeanour could only be explained by either a ridiculous pain tolerance or desensitization from a little shock. The Trill gestured to one of the beds, "the good news is, it's a quick fix. Take a seat, and let's see what we're working with."

Garo nodded, obedient as a schoolboy, and hopped up on the biobed.

"Quick fix, you say?" he murmured, watching them move.

The doctor nodded, bringing over a medical tray. From it, Jezra selected the medical tricorder and opened it. "Should be," they audibly confirmed, running the scanning wand over the arm. Sure enough, her visual assessment was correct, and there were also some mild shock symptoms as well when the tricorder picked up his vitals. "It's a second-degree burn, which can be patched up with some tissue regeneration. You're also in a little bit of shock, which is expected." Closing the tricorder and setting it aside, the Trill turned back to the Ensign with a hypospray. "This is a localised numbing agent that will help relieve discomfort." Moving the charred fabric carefully, she pressed the tip of the hypospray to his arm, a quiet hiss coming from it as it activated. They waited a couple seconds, then asked, "are you able to remove your jacket?"

"Yes, I can remove it."

Garo pinched the edge of his sleeve gingerly, where the fabric still held together. "But you see, it is like pulling skin from khorovats--one wrong move, and everything falls apart." He grinned and worked his right hand out from the ruined uniform jacket. The burned material clung stubbornly, and he muttered something in Armenian that sounded equal parts affectionate and profane.

"I tell you," he said, easing the jacket off, "every time I fix a shuttle, she thanks me by trying to kill me. It's a very, very abusive relationship."

The chuckle from Jezra entertained the light-hearted humour from the patient. As long as his symptoms didn't change, the Trill knew that humour was a common coping mechanism, and honestly they didn't mind it if it distracted him from his injury. "Sounds like the shuttle needs an intervention," they joked, holding out a hand for the arm. It didn't look as bad now that it wasn't framed by charred fabric. From the medical tray, she picked up a device that looked similar to the dermal regenerator. "I'm going to repair any nerve and tissue damage first, then clean this up with the dermal regenerator. Might feel some tingling, but let me know if your hand goes numb."

"Ah, tingling I can live with," Garo said, offering his arm like an peace treaty. "If it starts smoking again, then I complain."

He kept his eyes on the opposite wall while Jezra began their work--anything to avoid watching his own skin be rewritten. The sound of the regenerator filled the quiet. "You know," he said after a moment, "in operations, we say every burn has a lesson. This one, I think, says, 'do not trust old power couplers'. Or maybe, 'you need longer arms'." His Armenian accent thickened when he tried to sound casual; vowels bending and softening like warmed clay.

A quiet 'hm' came from the doctor. "That makes sense. But it’s only a lesson if you learn from it," they said with a faint smirk. The device in their hand beeped to inform that the nerve damage had been repaired, so they swapped for the dermal regenerator to start actually mending the skin.

Garo changed his mind and decided to watch as the faint blue glow from the regenerator glided up and down his arm. "Learn, yes," he said, pursing his lips. "Except sometimes lesson repeats itself. Like a bad song on repeat. You think, ah, I know this one--and then, zap!--it's the chorus again."

He lifted his uninjured arm and began gesturing vaguely, as if conducting invisible music. "If I had a credit for every time I've been injured in operations..."

"Well, I'm afraid I won't be of much help when it comes to avoiding future battles against electronics," Jezra said. A couple more seconds passed before the dermal regenerator was removed, showing newly healed skin. "But I can assure you that I'll make sure you're patched up every time," they finished with a smile.

Garo turned his wrist one way, then the other, and gave an approving nod. "That healed nicely. Thank you, Doctor. You saved my arm, and maybe my job. I owe you... coffee. Or maybe cake. You like cake?"

Jezra chuckled. "I'm just doing my job. You don't have to do that, but I appreciate the gesture."

"I get it," Garo said, sliding on his uniform jacket. He fixed Jezra with a lopsided grin. "I prefer pie, too."

The Armenian junior officer slid off the biobed with the weariness of an elderly dachsund being summoned, before nodding crisply to the CMO. "Well, I won't be playing with anymore power relays today. There is much to be finished before we arrive at Barisa Prime."

---

Lieutenant J.G. Jezra Siv
Chief Medical Officer
USS Astrea


Ensign Garabed "Garo" Hakobyan
Transporter Specialist
USS Astrea

 

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