And there was fishing

Posted on Sat Jan 21st, 2023 @ 6:31pm by Lieutenant Cyrus Marner & Lieutenant Ramat'iklan

2,457 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Short Treks
Location: Chief Medical Officer's Office, Sickbay, Federation One

The meeting would be like any other, he assumed. In and out, answer a few questions as people always did when they first met him including the why and how, possibly a few pleasantries including something about 'my door is always open', and on one occasion 'if you encounter discrimination by any crew member, bring it straight to me'. Ramat'iklan found it quite irritating, really, but he'd long since learned to keep his mouth shut. It was just simple politeness in his colleagues' view.

As such he took advantage in a lull in the bustle caused by the ship's current predicament to check in with the chief medical officer as was protcol, and ring the doorbell to his office.

The door opened to reveal a tall blonde haired man with a strange looking hat upon his head which had fish hooks and lures upon it. Cyrus's mouth dropped open at the shock of seeing a Jem Hadar at his door. "Er may I help you out?"

The reaction of most new chief medical officers when seeing him for the first time. Ramat'iklan never failed to find it amusing how people were capable of reacting in the most hilarious ways when utterly stunned. The Jem'hadar held out his hand and his PADD containing his transfer orders from the Montauban. "Lieutenant Ramat'iklan. Combat medic and medical officer. You will find my service record and qualifications duly on file." He said. Seeing how this man had reacted to simply seeing him in the flesh, he suspected his jaw might actually stay on the floor this time when he saw his distinguished academic and professional record. To be best trainee of Starfleet Medical's guelling basic combat medic course was one thing - to also graduate from the [i]advanced[/i] course, on the other hand, also as best trainee, was another.

Maybe the complete lack of fear of death helped things along.

Cyrus took the padd, but didn't even glance at it, he placed it upon the desk nearby. "So Lieutenant Ramat'iklan have you ever been fishing?" Cyrus wasn't one who read someone's files and make any sort of judgement whether it be a good report or bad report. He had his own way of seeing what a person was like before looking at records.

A look of complete and utter confusion crossed the Jem'hadar's face. How was that information relevant to his competencies as a medical officer? Sure, the chief medical officer certainly seemed to be the type to go fishing - judging by the ridiculous hat that he had on - yet something told him that this question was, in reality, some kind of assessment of his personal qualities. Some commanders were simply extremely weird that way. From personal experience he knew that fishing taught and developed many things, including patience. Perhaps the lieutenant sought that in his subordinates, for medical work did indeed take an incredible amount of patience and care.

"Just once. A former partner took me to fish on a date." He said - a truthful reply, as odd as it sounded in multiple ways. It was a truthful reply nonetheless, though, one he had no problem giving. "I did not much like it. Nonetheless I would do it again if a loved one asked me to." He didn't add that he'd hated the activity, in fact, finding it mind-numbingly boring to sit in one spot and watch the water in front of you hoping that a fish would bite - but he'd also learned that sometimes making a little bit of compromise was important to building relationships of any kind - especially [i]that[/i] kind.

Cyrus's eyebrows disappeared beneath the brim of his fishing hat. "Well I basically have some time slotted upon the holodeck, so we can talk whilst I work on my fishing. This is a way for me to get some relaxing time. While I do that we can chat. Oh and I won't worry about the fish being scared away by noise." he reached over and picked up a small case as well as red metal box. and looked at Ramat'iklan. "Okay lets go." the box was his tackle box of which Cyrus treasured. He led the way to the holodeck, only pausing once to see if Ramat'iklan was coming along.

The absolutely puzzled Jem'hadar stared at the CMO in befuddlement, but followed nonetheless. What kind of department head discussed official matters while fishing - an activity that required a considerable amount of patience and observation? No one had said anything about this to him when he'd first arrived!

Perhaps this CMO wanted to test his ability to multitask, he supposed. To talk while concentrating on his rod and potential catch, and to react quickly when the bite came. Important skills for a medical officer, albeit presented in somewhat different forms. A challenge of sorts. Ramat'iklan did not back down from a challenge and would've given up his life before that happened. He would talk, and he would fish if needed. He would not fail this unorthodox challenge.

The doctor programmed his fishing scene, deciding upon the warm summer day in the mountains with a lake and trees around. He walked over to the small dock that was there, a boat tethered to the dock by a rope and a iron ring. "Tell me something, do you know how to swim?" setting down his tackle box and proceeded to put together his fishing rod. He had another one that could be assembled as well in case he had company.

"Of course, sir." Every Starfleet officer knew how to swim - or at least had been trained to. Competency and fear of water were entirely seperate things. Ramat'iklan himself had never needed to swim until the Academy - and even then he'd had immense difficulty contending with the waves and current, but he'd caught up eventually after extensive practice.

"I... have never gone fishing on a boat before." He admitted as he stepped onto the deck of their small fishing boat, rocking the small wooden vessel slightly. "Only on the shore, and even then my partner and I did not catch very many fish."

"One thing I like to do besides fishing, is I draw, that is something I like to do as well." Cyrus got into the boat, set his gear upon the bottom of the craft, then pulled out the oars. Setting them in their place he began to row out towards the middle of the lake. "This is a place I used to go to when I was a lad. Loved to watch the dragonflies as they hovered above the water then zipped on about their business." he stated. "They are rather beautiful to watch."

Ramat'iklan couldn't help but notice that, between both men there seemed to be only one fishing rod. What kind of test was this? Why bring him all the way out here if he wasn't going to fish? Was he simply going to talk while the CMO fished and posed questions? What an odd man this doctor was, he thought. "It does create a very peaceful backdrop." He commented dryly. "As I have learned is desired for fishing. Is this a location on Earth?"

Once the boat was in the place he wanted, Cyrus brought the oars into the boat and then opened up his tackle box. "Do you want to do some fishing or just converse while I do so?" it was almost if he were reading Ramat'iklan's mind but it wasn't like that. It was just Cyrus's way. "I do like to give people choices to do so. What do you like to do when not working in medical?" he had taken the parts out ready to put the rod together if Ramat'iklan wished to fish.

Possibly to the chief medical officer's surprise, Ramat'iklan opted to assemble the rod himself. He'd done it all of once, as he'd said, but it wasn't exactly rocket science to figure out how to put one together. "I train on the holodeck whenever possible." He answered as he attached the reel and began to thread the fishing rod. "As a combat medic it is of utmost importance that my mind and instincts are sharp at all times. Given my previous schedules I am usually able to do so about thrice to four times a week."

Cyrus glanced over and watched Ramat'iklan put together the fishing rod, just only gave a nod. "You are the first of your kind that I have met face to face. And have read about your race in the medical journals. From what I have gathered you are no longer dependent on Ketracel White. This is good, as that wasn't right or fair." He picked up his rod once more and cast his line into the water and sat there looking out over the surface.

Ramat'iklan did the same, landing the lure close to Cyrus' own. "No, we are not, and have not been for over two decades." He said. "As to the fairness or correctness of the Founders' actions - I believe I am not the best person to comment on that." He left that point there thereafter, opting to concentrate on the surface of the water. The second his lure dipped he would be ready to haul his prize to the surface - whatever it was.

"You are entitled to an opinion, if you want to state it then do so. What I had said was my own opinion. I have never liked the fact of someone using another race to try to have dominion over others. "Cyrus moved his lure to another location as he didn't want his line to become entangled with Ramat'iklan's line.

Ramat'iklan hummed, and would probably have thought of a reply when he felt a tug on his lure - a truly mightytug that bent the rod into a hair-raising curve. He only barely had time to grab on to it and begin frantically reeling in whatever it was, only for the line to snag and pull taut. "Damn it..." Grunting with effort he gave the line a mighty hard tug, pouring every ounce of strength he had into his arms... and a truly monstrously sized catfish, easily the size of the entire boat, came zipping out of the water. Ramat had barely a moment to marvel at it before it crashed down on the two of them, capsizing their boat and tossing both men into the river with a splash.

Cyrus's head popped up from the water took a look at old Moses swimming away, took a look at the floating fishing poles and his art book drifting away, sighed and then said, "Computer, end program." his fishing tackle box, the fishing poles and his art pad now on the floor of the familiar grid patterned holo
suite. He then called out, "Computer drying program Cyrus Marner 21." the scene switched where there were booths, and heated area. "Best you get yourself dry, I'll just go over there, "Pointing towards a drying booth a litle bit aways from Ramat'iklan. With that he squished over picked up his belongings and disappeared inside the private booth for he could get dried off and changed into a different set of clothing.

Ramat'iklan padded his way into the booth, incredulous that the CMO had an entire program dedicated to drying oneself off. Clearly he'd gotten wet from head to toe often enough to warrant the creation of the program - which made him wonder why he couldn't just have had a stiff, hot wind blow and dry them both off that way instead. But then again, maybe that wouldn't have been sufficient to dry them completely. He changed into a new uniform and boots, exchanging his sopping wet set, and met the lieutenant outside when he was done. "Surely the catfish - I believe that is a Terran catfish, isn't it - isn't actually part of your program." He deadpanned. "There can't possibly be a fish so large and so heavy that sustainably lives in this lake... right?"

"Where I am from, yes they do get that big and that little ole pole wouldn't have stood a chance with the real catfish. It should have snapped." Marner drawled out. "I am going to have to check on the settings as to that happening." Cyus mused. he continued though. "Around those parts there are swamps that the gators end up attaining an rather large length and size. Would probably think you to be a tasty morsel. I've seen a couple of huge gators, and they are frightening to say the least." having had changed out of his wet uniform, and sufficiently dried off. Cyrus retrieved his now dry tackle box and his art pad, "Well then time to get back to work. I will have to come do some fishing later on."

Cyrus turned to head for the door which led out of the holo program. He paused and looked at Ramat'iklan "Just for your information as to how I work, I don't look at the records of those who come to work under me, not as of yet. Actions speak louder than words. A person could have some bad marks upon their record, or could have the so called glowing report of someone being the best of the best. I don't go by what is there on the records. I watch and I observe, I observe how a person works with others. I don't take kindly to someone who seems to have to be the center of attention. I've seen some who think they have to show off, and due to that nature, they have caused more harm than good. Those I have kicked out and sent down the road. I prefer good hard working individuals, who do not trumpet out how wonderful they are. I will give praise when I see fit, and I do let a person know that I appreciate their honest hard working efforts. I do not give out idle flattering praise for every little detail of work a person does. You are a part of a team and we work as a team. "

"I expect none to be given, sir. I have worked hard and given of every last fiber of myself every step of the way since I began to study my first medical textbook. Recognition will come when it is due. Until that time comes my duties remain, and will remain as long as I am still able." Ramat'iklan declared as he dried his ponytail off with a towel. "But of course, words mean little. I will allow my actions to speak for me. See you in sickbay, sir."

 

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