Catching Up on Medical

Posted on Mon Jul 20th, 2026 @ 3:41pm by Lieutenant Commander Jack Slattery & Lieutenant JG Sol

2,016 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Crisis at Zeta-294
Location: Sickbay

Jack adjusted the collar of his uniform as he walked down the narrow, sterile corridor toward Sickbay. He hadn’t taken the time to visit Sickbay since boarding the Wolff, and with the recent events, an escort mission gone sideways and a near-miss during that battle...it felt like a good time to check in. Not that he was worried about his health; he was used to the rigors of Starfleet life.

His boots echoed in the quiet hallway, a soft reminder of the loneliness that crept in when he didn’t have the hum of the bridge beneath him or the chatter of the crew in the background. He could feel the weight of his position pressing down on him. As XO, he had his role well defined. Clear tasks, decisions to be made, orders to give, but what about the rest of it? The crew...he didn’t know them yet. The Wolff wasn’t the Nathan Hale, where he’d had years to bond with the crew and get to know their quirks and routines. Here, it was still all business. A lot of faces, names that still didn’t quite stick, and a feeling of being on the outside of something that should’ve felt more familiar by now.

He exhaled, the weight of that disconnect like a quiet, persistent hum in the back of his mind. The XO spot came with the territory, he knew that. But a part of him missed the days when he'd spent hours at the helm, focused on the feel of the ship beneath him, in tune with the crew he'd earned trust with over time. This? This was all paperwork, command decisions, and navigating personalities that didn’t yet have the same rhythm as his.

The doors to Sickbay opened with a soft whoosh, and he stepped inside, shaking the thought from his mind. He had a job to do, after all. Time to check in and make sure everything was functioning like it should. And that he was functioning on a physical level like he should. He tried not to grimace at the undeniable sickbay smell that hit his senses as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was a world he wasn't familiar with, a world that had its function...and he didn't understand it. But still, here he was. And he would just embrace the experience.

Dr. Sol straightened up from the screen he had been reading, watching the First Officer approach with gentle curiosity. Things had become quiet again after the attack, making for a long and uneventful shift. His first thought at seeing the XO appear in the doorway was 'what's wrong?' He settled for a muted greeting instead. "Commander."

"Doctor Sol," Slattery said with a small nod as he walked over. "I'm here for my very belated onboarding medical. What can I say, I have finally slowed down enough to tick off those things on my list that need to be done."

"Ah...you mean, you have finally got to the bottom of the list?" Sol replied lightly, reading between the lines of how his medical needs had been deprioritised. Still, it wasn't unusual. And strangely, he had noticed a pattern of how the more important an officer was on a ship, the less time they put into making sure they were functioning efficiently. "Please, lay on the bed, I can start some scans."

He eased down, taking a deeper breath. "More than I've reached the stage where I can step away from my desk," he admitted as he stretched a little. "It's all been...reports, after actions, casualties...repairs. I feel I can finally step back and do the things I was meant to do before we got to the Marathon."

"How has your health been during this unrelenting schedule?" Sol asked as he started to tap on screens, the arch coming up around Jack as he set the scans off.

"Well...I didn't get myself too badly bruised on the Marathon," he said, looking at Sol with a small smile. He had been glad that he had him with the away team. "I think my health's been fine. I'm not a spring chicken anymore but not so bad as to...not be able to pull my weight."

"Perhaps not a spring chicken, but certainly not an autumn one..." Sol replied lightly, his features remaining unchanged despite the words as he started to scroll through the results coming in.

"You're flattering me," Jack said with a small, almost playful bruise. "It's the rank, right? It's always the rank. When I was just a pilot, doctors always were on about how I was abusing my body." It was, mostly, a joke.

"Do I look like someone who would flatter you?" Sol replied easily, an arched eyebrow the only change of his expression despite his words.

Jack smiled as he shook his head. "Doctor Sol, I would say no on a usual day. But it has been an interesting time so I'm not going to discount it."

"Intriguing," Sol replied lightly as he started to filter through the flags from the scan. His brow furrowed a touch as he took a probe to scan his neck again, looking at the findings on the screen. "You have unresolved trauma here..."

"Pilot neck," Jack said lightly, with a small smile. "No one talks about the fact the seats aren't adjustable...or have proper neck support."

"Perhaps they should speak about it," Sol replied with interest, switching to a more in depth scan to make more notes for future study. "The best cure is prevention," he reached to press his fingertips to the back of the neck, just where it became his back. "Your muscles are tighter than they should be, clearly compensating. I would advise a course of physiotherapy, it is still the best option for such discomfort."

"I'll try anything once. Twice is there's drinks involved," Jack said as he closed his eyes, exhaling softly at the touch, at the light pressure. "I did consider one of those massage holodeck programmes but not had time for the holodeck yet."

"No doubt it would be appreciated, but I am advocating physiotherapy, which is not quite as...pleasant," Sol replied bluntly, not wishing him to be under any misapprehension that it would mean a nice relaxing time. "You can also take medication, to ease the discomfort as you retrain the muscles."

"Physiotherapy...no medication in case it's necessary, I...can handle some discomfort," Jack said with a smile as he shook his head. "I can still work, right? Usual hour, usual work?"

"Yes," Sol assured quickly, realising that would no doubt be weighing on his mind. "We can work on this over the next few weeks. Although, I am able to make a start now if you are."

Jack nodded, watching him for a long moment before the smile faded. Now the work started. "I'd be grateful, Doctor Sol," he said, making it...a little bit more formal.

Sol glanced around, nodding as he motioned for him to follow him through to a therapy table. He adjusted the privacy screen for him before taking a moment to load a hypo, turning away to give him a moment to remove his jacket and top. "This will help your muscles," he assured, motioning for him to lie on the bed.

Jack got the jacket off and eased down, stretching his body out a little out of habit. He folded his hands on his chest for a moment, then shifted to have them crossed...and then to just having them down his sides. "Seems that there's always a lot happening on this ship."

Sol pressed the hypo to his neck before moving to stand behind his head, his hands reaching to start working on his shoulders and neck with practiced ease. "This ship does seem to attract its share of trouble..."

"Mm...I am not used to it," Jack admitted with a small smile. He made himself relax to the touch, even if it felt odd. He wasn't used to it either. Massages wasn't something he really ever considered. Even the therapeutic ones. "That much trouble. Like a target painted on our six."

"Are we certain there is no golden Apple of Discord packed away in Cargo Bay 2?" Sol replied evenly, humour not making it to his features, but there was, perhaps, a shimmer of it in his eyes.

Jack laughed, a soft sound as he closed his eyes. "Maybe I should get Ops to check the inventory. In case there's a curse object or something..." he said and sighed softly, the knot loosening.

Sol felt the change in him, gently pulling his hands back, not wanting to overwork the tissue on their first session. "If you could roll over onto your front, please," he stepped back to give him room. "Or perhaps someone has lost a rabbit's foot?"

Jack grinned, slowly, at the words. He turned his head to look at Sol, raising an eyebrow. "A human superstition reference...from a Vulcan?" he asked, but there was pure warmth in it.

"Half-Vulcan...Half-Human..." Sol corrected lightly, starting work on his back in long, firm strokes up the length, easing him into it. "Would that mean I would get just half the bad luck?"

"And half of the good luck too," Jack said as he turned his head to look ahead, a soft breath escaping him. "It's not all bad, being human."

Sol was silent for a long moment. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to understand what it was to be fully human. "What are the good things?"

Jack smiled weakly, thinking about it. "Well...I like to think we're resilient," he said, quietly. "I know that we're squishy compared to other species. Not as strong, or fast. But...we can take a lot. Physically. Mentally. And of course..." he turned his head, to look at Sol. "We take the moments to feel alive as they come. We don't have the longest lifespan. So we need to...live, and feel." He paused before he grinned. "Of course, I can only talk for myself. Everyone's experience is different."

"All the things my mother would disapprove of, in other words..." Sol replied, but with a note of wryness to the otherwise Vulcan timbre.

"Most likely," Jack said before he smiled, giving a small nod. "We also believe a little rebellion is good for the soul...or katra."

"I am not so sure it is good for your knuckles though," Sol replied lightly as he rubbed his thumbs in firm lines and circles across his muscles, not having missed the damage boxing had done in the past to his hands.

"Ah," Jack found heat rise to his cheek at that. "I...like to keep busy. If the energy has nowhere to go, I get restless. Boxing was a good way to...focus my mind."

"My Vulcan kin would recommend meditation," Sol paused, watching him thoughtfully for a long moment. "I...think you should stick to boxing..."

"Have you tried it? Boxing?" Jack asked with clear curiosity as he considered it. Because Sol had clocked him right...meditation was not what Jack Slattery enjoyed.

"I cannot say I have..." Sol had to admit, taking his time in working the muscles, the strength in his hands showing with it. "Other forms of hand to hand martial arts? Yes. But not boxing.

Slattery closed his eyes tighter as he hit a spot that was a little more sore than others. "Well...if you are ever interested, I can teach you," he said, lightly, because he wanted it to be an offer and not an order.

"And in return, I can teach you how to better look after your hands and back.." Sol replied lightly, in a way that might have been a quip from a human...but he most definitely meant it.


OFF:

Lt. Commander Slattery
First Officer

Lieutenant JG Sol
Medical Officer
(PNPC Rowe)

 

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