Where Did I Put My Damned Ethics?
Posted on Mon Jan 12th, 2026 @ 4:42am by Ensign Iozhara & Lieutenant JG Jezra Siv MD
1,429 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Peril at the Unification Accords
Location: Sickbay, Deck 12
Timeline: MD 10, 0020 Hours
The corridors were quiet after midnight. Astrea, even during a mission such as this one, often folded in on itself during Gamma Shift and those usually bustling corridors had fallen silent. Iozhara found herself walking them anyway, barefoot in soft duty socks, her uniform jacket folded over one arm. She hadn't planned to come--her feet had simply turned this way, as if they knew something she hadn't yet figured out.
Sickbay was dimmed to night-cycle lighting, which was silly in Iozhara's mind. They were in space and the lights there had no discernible effect on humanoid circadian rhythms, so why bother with dimming and brightening? Consoles glowed faintly and biobeds cast low halos. It felt less like a workplace at this time and more like a chapel.
She spied Alex in biobed two, laying on her back, eyes closed. Perhaps not asleep. But she was safe and out of danger now.
Iozhara stopped just inside the threshold. The neural stimulator was gone and the once loud monitors were silent. Her deep black hair fanned across the pillow and one temple showed a faintly pink area of skin where the laceration had been repaired. She looked much younger like this, Iozhara thought. Almost unarmoured.
A little more than twenty-four hours before, Alex's life almost ended. A decision made in a split-second had very nearly cost her her own life.
She turned away before delving too deep into the what-ifs.
Doctor Siv's office light was on, dimmed but unmistakably illuminated. The door stood open, just enough to be an invitation--or perhaps a warning--Iozhara could not tell which. She paused, then knocked once, soft but firm, taking that risk when you know you're probably crossing a line.
Despite passing off Alex's care to someone who wasn't burdened with consequence, and despite the relief of Alex finally waking up, Jezra couldn't sleep. The sticky lull of a wannabe migraine was their body's way of silently begging for rest, but there was still too much to do. The painkiller only did so much.
It had been silent in sickbay for the last couple hours that the knock made Jezra jump. Looking up from the computer, she saw Iozhara at the door. "I thought you were off for the night," the Trill commented.
"So are my thoughts," Iozhara replied quietly, leaning with her back against the frame of the door.
For a moment neither of them spoke. The ship continued its hum and somewhere out in Sickbay, a diagnostic chimed and then was quickly silenced.
"I was there," Iozhara said at last. "When the Ambassador died. And when Alex--" She stopped, and exhaled heavily through her nose. "When she crossed a line that can't be uncrossed."
Ah. "You can shut the door if you wish," Jezra offered, recognising the potential desire for privacy despite the lack of ears in sickbay to even pick up the conversation. Every time Alex's actions came up, it was like being stabbed with hot iron all over again. The fight with Remy left her bitter for multiple reasons, and she wanted nothing more than to put this behind all of them.
Iozhara reached back and pushed the door closed with her heel. After it clicked shut, she stayed where she was for a moment, back still against the door, eyes lowered.
She crossed the office at last but did not sit across from Jezra. It didn't feel like a discussion that required furniture.
"I've had some time to think about what happened," Iozhara said, her voice sounding detached and foreign in her own ears. "I think I understand why Alex initiated the meld. What I don't understand is..."
"... why she chose to ignore the medical chain of command?" Jezra suggested quietly. Perhaps it was harsh to phrase it like that, but a sour bitterness had been lingering in Jezra's throat for the last day. It did not help when Alex woke up and tried to immediately self-diagnose instead of letting Jezra do her job. There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers. They offered a weighted sigh. "I don't know."
Iozhara now found herself with her back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes lowered. "I know this is going to create all sorts of trouble if the Vulcans catch wind of it. But my immediate concern is which report do I turn in?"
She looked to Jezra and wasn't exactly sure whether she'd needed an answer to that question or whether it was purely rhetorical.
"Alex knows I have professional standards--just as you do--where I have to put everything we did into my report," she began, her breathing apparatus hissing softly. "If I write it the way it happened, it could sink her career." She brought her eyes back up to Jezra's, looking to see if the Trill had any words of wisdom.
Jezra could tell that Iozhara didn't want to make this decision. They couldn't blame her. "If what you want is for me to tell you how to shape your report... I'm sorry. I won't." The words came from the same tightness in her chest that hadn't let go all day. "Whatever you write should maintain integrity. The burden of this isn't yours to carry. Asking you to report anything other than the truth would only make you complicit."
With a long sigh, Jezra looked over Iozhara, taking in just how exhausted and concerned she looked. "Remember that Alex made that decision, not you. Please don't feel like you are responsible for any repercussions she may face."
"I know," she said. "You're right."
She pushed off the wall and took a few slow steps, stopping beside the desk without touching it. Her gaze drifted to a reflection of herself in the office window. She noted how tired she appeared. It was like the past day had pressed stress line into her that sleep was incapable of erasing. Which was why she was in Jezra Siv's office and contemplating how to remove the weight from her shoulders.
"Jezra," Iozhara continued, her voice dropping softer. "I keep thinking about Alex on that biobed. But I almost understand why she initiated the meld with the Ambassador. What if there's something she gleaned from it that could help solve all of this?" She stopped and looked to Jezra, hoping for some wisdom.
This was the exact thing Jezra had been trying to pull out of Remy's head the other day and was unsuccessful at it. The Trill took in a steadying breath. "At this point, all we have is speculation," she reminded Iozhara. "We don't know what Alex got out of the meld, or if she got anything at all. We don't even know why she initiated it in the first place. We can guess, but we won't know for sure until she is medically cleared to speak for herself. Possibility is not evidence, and trying to rationalise possibility will keep you up at night."
Speculation. Possibility. Those were words Iozhara recognized could feel soft until you leaned too hard on them. Then they could cut.
She nodded once, unclasping her hands. The decision had been forming for hours now and it wasn't until she heard Jezra's own words that seemed to clarify it.
"You're right," she said again. "I'll write the report as I saw it. All actions, all orders." She looked back to Jezra now, her amber eyes clearer. "Thanks for taking the time to... listen to me on this. It hasn't been easy."
Jezra gave a soft, tired smile that attempted to offer reassurance. If anything, it probably only confirmed just how exhausted the CMO was. "Trust me, you're not alone in that regard. It's a messy situation all around, but it's being handled. And I appreciate you coming to me... I'm always available to talk if you need it."
Iozhara nodded once, showing her gratitude.
"Thank you, doctor," she said quietly. Her voice was soft, carrying just enough warmth to let the Trill know it was meant. "For taking the time to listen... and for your guidance." She paused, letting her words fall slowly.
"I'll see you next shift," she added, her tone matter-of-fact but not brusque.
"Get some rest," Jezra responded with a nod.
Lieutenant J.G. Jezra Siv
Chief Medical Officer
USS Astrea
Ensign Iozhara
Nurse
USS Astrea
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