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tamingthemuseTitle : Sprig of Heather
Author : naughty_bangles
Fandom : Star Trek
Rating : PG13
Disclaimer : I own a few things in there, but everything Star Trek-related isn't mine.
Prompt : 388 - Architecture
Notes : It's just a silly story that came to me while I was daydreaming about Star Trek in class. It's mainly related to Deep Space Nine, since that spacestation stole my heart and never gave it back, but may not be limited to it (indeed, this part involved one of my favorite doctors of all time, Voyager's holographic doctor). The title comes from an English translation of the Apollinaire poem "L'adieu" by Florence Lautel-Ribstein, which prompted that story (among other things). That bit is supposed to be toward the end of the story, or of the first part. The structure here is somewhat blurry.
383 days after the stasis began.
"I guess it'll do", the holographic doctor sighed while having a look at the station infirmary. Behind him, Julian rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet. From what he remembered from his short-lived collaboration with Lewis Zimmerman on the creation of the LMH, the hologram's presence in his infirmary was going to be one long and annoying experience. But the leaders at Starfleet Medical were right : it had been over a year, now, and Julian hadn't find a cure to the G-47 agent yet. Maybe a new look on the matter would help. Actually, he was lucky the project hadn't been taken away from him.
"Let's get started, shall we ?", the Doctor said lively, turning around to face his organic colleague. The green uniform they were both wearing was the only thing they had in common, to the photonic physician. The man who was working here looked dejected, and the beard he had let grow made him look untidy. He didn't look like the doctor Bashir Starfleet had a file on. A year without any result on one's girlfriend deathly sickness could do that. He was going to be a peachy co-worker.
Julian gestured toward the working station he was going to share with the hologram for the time to come. The Doctor took place with enthousiasm, followed by his human confrere, and called the latest data on the agent on screen. He didn't ask to see the patient, and Julian didn't offer to. As if from an unspoken agreement, everything related to Ms. Goodhead's specifics was left to the station's CMO. It was like some kind of invisible barrier wrapped the stasis room, one the Doctor didn't want to cross. He had been sent there to do a job, and that's exactly was he was going to do.
A new set of eyes and a new brain gave a new start toward the cure discovery. Within a few weeks, they were able to design a basis for a vaccine. One compound at a time, they were drawing the blueprint of a solution for the G-47 problem. One simulation at a time, they crossed the ideas that didn't work, the constructions that collapsed too soon. One argument at a time, they were progressing toward the end of a more-than-year-long nightmare.
And then there had been that afternoon, when the Doctor had put on the last hand to a schematic representation of the lastest compound they had had in mind, humming La donna è mobile with an absent mind. Julian had long ago learned to ignore his holographic counterpart's humming, and didn't hear it anymore. He had other things to think about, such as keep the infirmary running during the day, treating patients that came and went for all kind of reasons.
"Stop moving", Bashir told the Ferengi sitting on the bed, a little more harshly than he had three minutes ago. Quark had obvious difficulties to stay still while the doctor was pulling tiny pieces of glass out of the side of his head with tweezers.
"I tell you, once Nath has identified the one who throw me that bottle, I'll squeeze him dry of all his latinum !", the bartender vociferated, still shocked at having been the unwanted victim of the fight that had happened earlier in his pub. It had been a busy day, with all the injuries caused by the brawl to be treated as soon as possible. Julian had come to appreciate the presence of the Doctor on those days, when he wasn't able to leave infirmary duty to work on the G-47. At least now someone was still working on it while he took care of the day-to-day routine.
The humming stopped at the work station, and the photonic being joined them around the bed. "Doctor Bashir, our new design is ready. And I must add it looks highly promising."
Quark turned his head to eye the hologram, earning a groan from Julian in the process. "You sound like you're working on the last spaceship design. Aren't you supposed to find a treatment to that nerve gas that poisoned Gin ?"
"That's exactly what we're doing, my skeptical friend. You see, creating an active agent is like building a house. It must be convenient, but stylish, comfortable, yet sophisticated. It's quite an art, actually."
"It's Mr. Quark's face here that's going to be artistic if he doesn't let me remove that glass", Julian added, annoyed by all that babbling. All he wanted right now was being over with that bar fight consequences, and back to the lab where he could see if that masterpiece of them would finally be the solutions they were looking for.
The Ferengi tried better to stay still this time, yet keeping mumbling about the claim he was going to fill and the doctor that needed to get laid as it would give him his good mood back. Julian ignored him and finished the job. He sighed deeply in relief when the bartender eventually left his infirmary to harrass the Security Chief.
He didn't lose time to join the holographic doctor at the work station. On the screen, the new chemical model was turning slowly, showing its complicated structure to however had the knowledge to understand it.
"Time for you to shine, test molecule number 76338", the Doctor said in contemplation, before launching the simulation.
Author : naughty_bangles
Fandom : Star Trek
Rating : PG13
Disclaimer : I own a few things in there, but everything Star Trek-related isn't mine.
Prompt : 388 - Architecture
Notes : It's just a silly story that came to me while I was daydreaming about Star Trek in class. It's mainly related to Deep Space Nine, since that spacestation stole my heart and never gave it back, but may not be limited to it (indeed, this part involved one of my favorite doctors of all time, Voyager's holographic doctor). The title comes from an English translation of the Apollinaire poem "L'adieu" by Florence Lautel-Ribstein, which prompted that story (among other things). That bit is supposed to be toward the end of the story, or of the first part. The structure here is somewhat blurry.
383 days after the stasis began.
"I guess it'll do", the holographic doctor sighed while having a look at the station infirmary. Behind him, Julian rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet. From what he remembered from his short-lived collaboration with Lewis Zimmerman on the creation of the LMH, the hologram's presence in his infirmary was going to be one long and annoying experience. But the leaders at Starfleet Medical were right : it had been over a year, now, and Julian hadn't find a cure to the G-47 agent yet. Maybe a new look on the matter would help. Actually, he was lucky the project hadn't been taken away from him.
"Let's get started, shall we ?", the Doctor said lively, turning around to face his organic colleague. The green uniform they were both wearing was the only thing they had in common, to the photonic physician. The man who was working here looked dejected, and the beard he had let grow made him look untidy. He didn't look like the doctor Bashir Starfleet had a file on. A year without any result on one's girlfriend deathly sickness could do that. He was going to be a peachy co-worker.
Julian gestured toward the working station he was going to share with the hologram for the time to come. The Doctor took place with enthousiasm, followed by his human confrere, and called the latest data on the agent on screen. He didn't ask to see the patient, and Julian didn't offer to. As if from an unspoken agreement, everything related to Ms. Goodhead's specifics was left to the station's CMO. It was like some kind of invisible barrier wrapped the stasis room, one the Doctor didn't want to cross. He had been sent there to do a job, and that's exactly was he was going to do.
A new set of eyes and a new brain gave a new start toward the cure discovery. Within a few weeks, they were able to design a basis for a vaccine. One compound at a time, they were drawing the blueprint of a solution for the G-47 problem. One simulation at a time, they crossed the ideas that didn't work, the constructions that collapsed too soon. One argument at a time, they were progressing toward the end of a more-than-year-long nightmare.
And then there had been that afternoon, when the Doctor had put on the last hand to a schematic representation of the lastest compound they had had in mind, humming La donna è mobile with an absent mind. Julian had long ago learned to ignore his holographic counterpart's humming, and didn't hear it anymore. He had other things to think about, such as keep the infirmary running during the day, treating patients that came and went for all kind of reasons.
"Stop moving", Bashir told the Ferengi sitting on the bed, a little more harshly than he had three minutes ago. Quark had obvious difficulties to stay still while the doctor was pulling tiny pieces of glass out of the side of his head with tweezers.
"I tell you, once Nath has identified the one who throw me that bottle, I'll squeeze him dry of all his latinum !", the bartender vociferated, still shocked at having been the unwanted victim of the fight that had happened earlier in his pub. It had been a busy day, with all the injuries caused by the brawl to be treated as soon as possible. Julian had come to appreciate the presence of the Doctor on those days, when he wasn't able to leave infirmary duty to work on the G-47. At least now someone was still working on it while he took care of the day-to-day routine.
The humming stopped at the work station, and the photonic being joined them around the bed. "Doctor Bashir, our new design is ready. And I must add it looks highly promising."
Quark turned his head to eye the hologram, earning a groan from Julian in the process. "You sound like you're working on the last spaceship design. Aren't you supposed to find a treatment to that nerve gas that poisoned Gin ?"
"That's exactly what we're doing, my skeptical friend. You see, creating an active agent is like building a house. It must be convenient, but stylish, comfortable, yet sophisticated. It's quite an art, actually."
"It's Mr. Quark's face here that's going to be artistic if he doesn't let me remove that glass", Julian added, annoyed by all that babbling. All he wanted right now was being over with that bar fight consequences, and back to the lab where he could see if that masterpiece of them would finally be the solutions they were looking for.
The Ferengi tried better to stay still this time, yet keeping mumbling about the claim he was going to fill and the doctor that needed to get laid as it would give him his good mood back. Julian ignored him and finished the job. He sighed deeply in relief when the bartender eventually left his infirmary to harrass the Security Chief.
He didn't lose time to join the holographic doctor at the work station. On the screen, the new chemical model was turning slowly, showing its complicated structure to however had the knowledge to understand it.
"Time for you to shine, test molecule number 76338", the Doctor said in contemplation, before launching the simulation.
