—- USS Selene, Senior Officers Lounge ‘Delphi’ —-

Chief Medical Officer T’Rala sat down with her green drink, she had not ordered it, but had just approached the bar and the bartender had gotten excited about having a Romulan customer that he’d fished a bottle of what he called ‘the real stuff’ out from beneath the bar and proceeded to pour her a glass. She had the distinct feeling that it was Romulan ale, which did not go with the quiet night alone that she had had planned. Still it had seemed awkward to turn it away, and thus she was stuck with this hard liquor until she found someone to give it to.

A potential recipient came and sat down, unbidden, across from her.  She did not know Doctor Michelle Mueller, except in passing at the daily briefings for command staff. The woman had been a Chief Medical Officer herself, working with much of the crew on a ship called the USS Anaheim, but had gotten her own command and own ship. Now she was there to supervise and run the educational program for Starfleet Academy.

The Romulan was not unfriendly, but raised her eye brow in a Vulcan like expression of interest at the intrusion. Doctor Mueller and Doctor T’Rala were not friendly, did not even really know each other on a personal level. It was unexpected that the human woman would sit down in the mostly empty lounge at the other doctor’s table.

T’Rala looked around, and noting to herself the number of empty tables, turned back to Mueller and asked, “How may I help you Doctor?”

“I just wanted to ask about Doctor Va’Tok, how he was doing in the last while,” Mueller asked. Though the two women had not served together they had shared a colleague, both working for Dr. Va’Tok. He had been Mueller’s Assistant Chief Medical Officer, and had been T’Rala’s Chief Medical Officer. The Vulcan had been an important part of both women’s lives, as a protege and then as a mentor.

“I was not on the ship when he passed away, but I can answer what you want to know,” T’Rala said. It was only human to be wanting to connect with some aspect of the people you cared for’s life, but she knew that she herself was a poor substitute for having the Vulcan here and alive. She had not reached out to the human for the time she’d been onboard the Selenebecause she knew that there was no information she could find out that would substantially make her feel more at peace with the man’s death.

Humans though did not seem as good with leaving the past as the past as Romulans. T’Rala had developed the ability to move on from tragedy quickly and it made her a better doctor. She could lose a patient, and then center herself and pivot to the next one in a way that humans seemed to find it impossible. And while the loss of her friend hurt, she saw no point in exuding his memory to pick away at the body. There was no lesson to be learned here, other than don’t leave your friends alone with a murderous changing.

“Where were you when he died?” Doctor Mueller asked.

“We’d discovered a lost colony of Romulans from Archer’s time. I’d said behind to administer medical services to them until a Romulan ship arrived to take them home. So I was gone for months, Doctor Elordi was acting Assistant Chief Medical Officer while I was gone,” T’Rala explained.

As doctors they were used to saving lives, and she was sure Doctor Mueller had brought people from the brink who’d been nearing death, and was likely carrying guilt that she had not been there to try to be a miracle worker on this occassion.

“Doctor Elordi is a great surgeon,” T’Rala said, “if Va’Tok could have been saved he would have found a way. As it was the captain barely pulled through.”

Doctor Mueller nodded, “I’m not blaming you, I just wanted to…”

Her voice trailed off. Doctors, more than most people, got used to death and dying. Doctor Mueller had set up refugee camps after natural disasters around the galaxy. She’d seen people die, and had saved countless lives. Now though was a life she couldn’t save saved.

“He was funny,” T’Rala said. The Vulcan doctor had had a dry serious sense of humor, and the pair had found themselves having a good time, playing off the fact that height species were known for being funny. He had been dry in a way where you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny or not.

“I didn’t notice that,” Doctor Mueller said.

“He probably respected you too much,” Mueller laughed.

Mueller nodded, “I’m the one people respect, never the one they like.”

The Romulan Chief Science Officer shrugged, the German woman was kind of intimidating, and it was easy to see why she might have issues making friends with many people. Which is likely why it hurt so much when a dear friend passed, and why unliked T’Rala she was having trouble moving beyond it.

“If it helps I cannot respect you if you want,” T’Rala said, mostly joking.

“How about a friend?” Mueller asked.

Doctor T’Rala shrugged, “I don’t make friends with humans. Just stuck up Vulcans.”

“I can see why you two got along,” Mueller said finally smiling.

T’Rala nodded, “Oh he hated me sometimes. I wouldn’t take any of his Vulcan guff. And unlike everyone else I didn’t think he was just naturally better than me because he was a Vulcan.”

“I remember after his transition, I asked him how he was handling the change,” Mueller reminisced about a time when he’d first joined her even before he was an Assistant Chief Medical Officer, “And he said he found it most efficient now that he could stand up and pee.”

“He talked about retiring from Starfleet and becoming a doctor that just did gender reassignment work,” T’Rala said, “I think he found it… rewarding to become who he always felt. I mean he seemed to, we never really talked about it. Other than his plans for the future.”

“It is illogical to fixate on the past,” Mueller said, dropping her voice an octave to try to mimic the stone faced delivery of Va’Tok. She looked at her hands, “He helped, a lot at times when things were hard and I’d lost a lot of patients, after a disaster or tragedy and he could reframe it and get me thinking about how many I had saved, or how many I would save tomorrow.”

“Learn from your mistakes, but do not dwell on them,” T’Rala said, echoing a specific bit of wisdom that Va’Tok had shared with her, almost to the point of being frustrating. The doctors fell silent, each lost in their own memory of their mutual colleague and friend.

Finally Doctor T’Rala broke the silence, “If you ever need someone to point out that you’re illogical or need a mean friend, stop by sickbay.”

Doctor Mueller laughed, and then gave a sad smile, “You’ll be my fake-Vulcan friend.”

”I’ll insult you any time, and tell you that really you’re doing pretty good,” T’Rala said.

The human nodded, smiled and the pair looked at the stars floating past the ship, enjoying the view and a relatively easy and comfortable silence that had settled on the table. Nothing and no one could replace their loss, but in each other maybe they’d at least have someone else to hold on to when metaphoric got chopy.

Nothing could bring back their friend, but by remembering him they could celebrate a piece of him around.  They had both been better for having known him, and if they could save more lives based on what he’d told them and teach more young doctors, well the lives Va’Tok had touched would grow.