Damnit Jezra, You're a Doctor, Not a Politician
Posted on Sat Jan 10th, 2026 @ 6:30am by Captain Remy Johansen & Lieutenant JG Jezra Siv MD
Edited on on Mon Jan 12th, 2026 @ 1:42am
1,831 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission:
Peril at the Unification Accords
Location: CMO's Office
Timeline: MD 08 After 'Sweeping up a Diplomatic Mess'
Jezra entered sickbay, worn out from all the proverbial minefields they had been dancing through. A nurse appeared to update them on Alex, and Jezra spared a glance at the bed before acknowledging and retreating to the office, its windows still opaque. The collection of tricorder pieces on the floor greeted their eyes when they entered, and with an exasperated groan they set the PADDs on the desk before kneeling down to pick up the pieces.
Remy walked into Sickbay and toward the Chief Officer's office to find Jezra bent down on the floor picking up pieces of equipment.
"What happened here?" Remy asked, bending down to see if she could help.
Looking up, Jezra quickly realised they weren't alone anymore. A faint twinge of embarrassmenf coloured their cheeks as they looked at the pieces of tricorder. The post-frustration clarity was like sandpaper. "Tricorder slipped," she offered as an answer. Picking up a couple more pieces, enough for the place to be presentable for someone like the Captain, Jezra stood and brought the pieces to the replicator to dispose of. They made a mental note to update the tricorder inventory later. "Can I get you anything to drink, Captain?"
"No, thank you though," Remy replied. "Everything alright?" She asked.
Jezra got themself a water before returning to the desk. "I talked to Lt. Keel," they began, offering one of the seats with a hand gesture. "This whole situation is... not good."
"What did he have to say?" Remy asked. It was important to keep a clear head while examining all options before them. The Ambassador was dead. Hopefully they wouldn't be losing Dr. Blackstone as well.
Jezra took a sip of water in the hope that it would help calm her nerves before setting the glass on the desk. "He advises transparency with the Vulcans," the doctor began. "There's no clean options. I obviously don't want to start a political and diplomatic scandal that could ruin Alex's career. If done strategically, we might be able to control what information is shared and when, but it toes the line between controlled disclosure and withholding information. I have the ability to classify a patient's case, however this is the most volatile option given the timing of the Ambassador's death because it could blow up in our faces diplomatically." She sighed, running a hand through her hair, "we could look into Starfleet-specific telepathic or neurological specialists, treat this as an internal Starfleet matter, however NDAs and confidentiality agreements do not override mandated reporting laws."
Jezra paused for a couple seconds, then added, "I agree with Lt. Keel, Captain. It will suck and be messy, but they will find out eventually and it will go over better if we bring it to them first."
"What is Dr. Blackstone's condition?" Remy asked. "Will we be able to speak with her soon?"
"Unlikely. Until we can fully stabilise her neural activity, it's safest to keep her under," Jezra answered.
"Any idea how long that will be?" The Captain pressed harder. "If at all possible, I would prefer to delay involving the Vulcans completely until we've had an opportunity to hear from her."
Jezra took in a steadying breath. "Believe me, Captain, I want answers too, but I don't know when we will be able to talk to her. It could be in an hour, it could be in a week. It’s just too early to tell."
"I understand," Remy nodded. "What is Blackstone's diagnostic condition? Do you have any more information on the extent of her injuries? The actual cause, the source?"
"Her vitals are stable, but her neural activity is still too hyperactive," Jezra answered. They forced themselves into clinical neutrality, which also meant trying to ignore speculation or opinions. "We are still isolating the cause. As it stands, the neural shock happened around the time the meld broke, but it also happened around the time T'Varel was declared dead. Even with a clean medical history, the neural shock is nothing more than temporal correlation at this point because either could have caused it."
"Unless you believe that we are endangering Dr. Blackstone by not consulting with a medical team under Vulcan High Command, I prefer to hold off until at least the morning," Remy stated. "See what we can do for her with Starfleet resources. Perhaps T'Para would have some insight."
For a long beat, Jezra didn't say anything. Morning was at least twelve hours from now, and a lot can happen in that time, especially while under the effects of thiopental. "I am obligated to advise caution against unnecessary delays, Captain. 'Until morning' is too long," she eventually said. "Alex is in a medically induced coma. It gives her the best chance of survival for now, but keeping someone in such a state for prolonged periods increases the risk of complications. I do believe that all options should be explored, and I will explore every option we have aboard first, but the longer she is under, the less likely it is that she will wake up."
"Starfleet has some of the very best options available, Doctor," Remy pointed out. "And Astrea is one the best outfitted ships in the fleet for medical facilities. Are you telling me that our staff is not qualified to treat her with the facilities that we have on board?" The question was direct and was starting to sound like more of a challenge.
The doctor's expression twitched. Jezra would respect Remy's insistence on keeping this in-house more if this hadn't involved an ambassador and if the one best qualified to treat Alex's condition weren't also incapacitated. "Did we bring aboard another neurosurgeon that I wasn't aware of?" She countered. "There's a difference between being qualified to treat someone and being an expert in a specific field. I'm not saying that my staff isn't qualified; any of us can perform the tasks that are keeping Alex alive. Someone with a specialty in neuroscience can help her get better sooner, and the only one on board with those credentials is currently occupying biobed two."
"Then find someone from Starfleet Medical in range and I'll have it arranged for them to meet us us here," Remy stated. "There has to be someone in Starfleet who can help before we throw her to the Vulcans before she can defend herself."
The Captain stood up. "Let me know when you find someone capable and I'll contact Admiral Downing and make it happen."
"Permission to speak freely, Captain?" Jezra asked, tension lacing her tone.
Remy had turned to leave, but she paused in her tracks at Jezra's request. She turned back toward the doctor, her hands interlaced behind her back.
"Of course, Doctor."
Jezra didn't hesitate. "What part of 'time is not on Alex's side' do you not understand??" She gestured to herself, fingers thumping into her sternum hard enough to sting, but she didn't care. "I get it, I don't want to throw her to the Vulcans either. I know the situation sucks. I want her to be able to defend herself and explain her actions, but none of that matters because right now, she can't! Delay is not a safe alternative, and I don't know how else to explain that!"
"Do we need to take the ship to Starfleet Medical now?" Remy asked. "Because I will if you think it is that dire, but it's not like Vulcan has a medical ship on standby out there. These are diplomats, politicians - many of them with agendas more far-reaching than you obviously comprehend."
"If you find word of a neurosurgeon who happens to here among them, I'll send Commander Spello out to make contact. But unless that's the case, we'll find someone in Starfleet."
"Did I make myself clear." The way the Captain punctuated her final words it was clear that it wasn't a question.
The insistence on keeping this in-house was frustrating Siv enough for an impulsive --and slightly petty-- nature to creep in. Leaning over slightly, she grabbed a PADD from the desk and typed out her interpretation of the orders given. After a couple seconds, she finished and looked up to Remy. "My duty is to my patients, Captain. It is my ethical and moral obligation to do everything possible for those under my care." She held the PADD out to Remy. "You are asking me to delay involving the Vulcans and defer to you the decisions I normally have the authority to make as CMO. If these are the orders you want me to follow, then I require your written acknowledgement of the associated ethical and medical risks."
Remy took a deep breath, her green eyes casting a piercing glare over the Trill doctor. "I'm asking you to make every best effort to keep our Starfleet officer under Starfleet's medical care. Don't get cheeky with me about it, Dr. Siv. If you can't do it, find someone who can. I don't care if they are Vulcan, Andorian, or any other race, but make sure they are either a Starfleet officer, or coming here with an allegiance to Starfleet. You need to trust me on this."
With those final words Remy turned and left the Chief Medical Officer's office without touching the PADD that Jezra had handed out for her to sign. She swiftly left Jezra's vicinity, walking with a purpose, but she didn't leave Sickbay. Instead she slowed her pace and turned to the private care unit where Alexandra Blackstone was currently being treated, still unconscious. She took a few steps into the room, a nurse stood at attention then quickly bowed out. Remy waited until she was gone and then placed a hand on Alex's arm.
"I need you to wake up, Doctor. The clock is ticking."
After Remy left the CMO's office, Jezra glared at the door for a couple seconds, unable to properly label what she was feeling but it definitely existed within the realm of annoyed. She put the PADD on the desk, but it tilted off the edge and hit the floor with a thump. Jezra's gaze snapped downward to the PADD as if it had offended her somehow. This whole thing was frustrating. Remy was frustrating. Even the broken pieces of tricorder on the floor that had yet to be picked up were like tiny human hand gestures mocking her. The PADD not doing what she wanted was the final straw.
Jezra took off her jacket, bunched it into a ball, and shoved her face into it to scream.
Captain Remira Johansen
Commanding Officer
USS Astrea
Lieutenant J.G. Jezra Siv
Chief Medical Officer
USS Astrea
RSS Feed