Appeals
Posted on Sat Jun 6th, 2026 @ 2:23pm by Lieutenant Bartholomew Hale & Lieutenant Sylar & Captain Erik Norsgaard
1,715 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission:
Friends and Traitors
Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Thunderbird
Timeline: Mission Day 1, 2200 Hours
"Good evening, Captain. Commander Max Bobbins. Chief of Flight Operations, Starbase 310." He strode into the ready room after the customary door chime and call to enter. His face was fixed in a smirk, his square jaw accented by the dimmed evening lighting. He extended his hand over the Captain's desk, advancing like an army crossing no man's land. "Burning the midnight oil?"
Norsgaard took a moment to shut down what he was reading before rising smoothly to his feet in time for his visitor and shook the man's hand, his own slightly calloused, before gesturing for the man to take a seat. "Reports and research," he said. "First chance I've had today. So, what brings you to the Thunderbird, Commander?"
"One of my men, Ensign Orfil Dara, was injured in your shuttlebay this evening. Nasty accident. He's in your sickbay now," Bobbins said. "I take it this has crossed your desk?"
"Yes, I saw," Norsgaard said, his blue-gray gaze betraying nothing of how he felt, though there was promise of reactions rumbling within. "We'll investigate of course. How's the ensign doing?"
“Not good,” Bobbins began. “He’s lucky to be alive. All sorts of bother; plasma burns, damage to his airways. Your CMO informs me that he has a long road to recovery. Fifteen days, to be precise.”
"I'm very sorry to hear that," Norsgaard responded at once. "Doctor Sylar is new but from his record and references, he knows his job. I'm sure Ensign Dara is in good hands."
“I’m confident in the care Orfil is receiving. I met your Doctor Sylar earlier, he seems highly competent.” The Commander shifted in his seat for a moment, his jaw tensed. “Captain, I’ll cut to the chase; I came here because of your medical officer’s time frame for care. I have your vessel on my outbound list, his treatment will take a fortnight. I formally request he be transferred to the Starbase medical facility immediately.”
"And I assume that Doctor Sylar was unwilling to accede to your request," Norsgaard asked.
Bobbins nodded. "That's correct. Your Doctor directed me to take this up with you."
"I see," Norsgaard said quietly. "One moment." He turned slightly and said, "Captain to Lieutenant Sylar."
The Vulcan's voice sounded. "Yes, Captain."
"Doctor," Norsgaard said, "I'm with Commander Bobbins in my Ready Room. If you could join us, please?"
"Understood, I will attend immediately." The channel closed abruptly.
Bobbins sighed when he heard that cool Vulcan tone. He pushed his tongue to his molar as he eyed Norsgaard. “You know, this really isn’t necessary. One stroke of the pen, that boy becomes our issue on the Starbase and you can go on your merry way.”
"I understand," Norsgaard said. "And yet, I'll hear what the ship's Chief Medical Officer has to say first."
[A Few Somewhat Awkward Moments Later]
Norsgaard looked up as the sound of the chime indicated someone at the Ready Room door. "Enter," he called out.
Sylar entered the cabin quietly and stood, facing Norsgaard. Bobbins, with whom he exchanged formal nods, also stood before the Captain. The image, to Sylar's mind, appeared to resemble an old Earth court hearing, with opposing petitioners presenting their cases. He waited patiently for Bobbins, or Norsgaard, to speak.
"I understand you have one of the Commander's people in your Sickbay," Norsgaard said. "He's requesting this individual be transferred to the Starbase. Is there any reason why I should not agree to his request?"
“From a purely medical assessment, Captain, Ensign Dara is not presently fit for transfer. His condition is stable," Sylar saw Bobbins nod and so he raised an eyebrow, "but 'stability' merely describes a patient whose vital signs and physiological status are steady and not rapidly deteriorating. It would be unwise to associate that with recovery. The Ensign continues to receive treatment for plasma burn injuries, airway trauma, and associated neurological stress. It is my medical assessment that relocating him at this stage would introduce unnecessary variables and confer no corresponding therapeutic benefit.”
"We're not asking the Ensign to run a marathon the minute he makes it over there." Bobbins shook his head and looked between the two men. "Tell me, Doctor, are you familiar with the medical facilities on Starbase 310?"
Sylar turned his attention to Commander Bobbins. The raised eyebrow remained exactly where it was. "The facilities on Starbase 310,” he replied flatly, "are entirely capable of treating Ensign Dara. However Commander Bobbins, the quality of the destination facility is not a logical matter under consideration." Sylar looked to Norsgaard, presenting his case. "The patient is currently receiving appropriate treatment. The relevant question is whether transferring him at this time would improve his condition, accelerate his recovery, or reduce medical risk. My assessment as presiding physician is that it would do none of these things.” Bobbins didn't speak, so Sylar's gaze returned to him as he now addressed him. “I find it curious that the discussion has focused extensively upon the capabilities of the starbase and in no way upon the specific benefit to the patient himself. Your submission appears to equate to nothing more than 'another facility can also administer treatment'. That is not logical." He looked from Bobbins, to Norsgaard, and back again. "Medical transport is not without risk, and such risks are only justified when they provide a corresponding benefit to the patient. Indeed, both of our worlds have founding principles of medicine. Both say, in their own way, 'first, do no harm'."
Sylar made his final point and he made it to Norsgaard. "I would also remind everyone that the Starfleet Medical Code allows a patient's attending physician to make decisions regarding the treatment and transportation of the patient in question. No sustainable argument justifying a departure from my recommendation has yet to be advanced."
"How about this then," Erik said as he leaned back in his seat, large hands folded across his flat abdomen, "we've got orders to depart and we're headed into a potentially dangerous situation. Ensign Dara, who is not a part of my command, could be put into an unnecessarily dangerous situation simply by virtue of him remaining on board. Is the Commander accurate in what he said? That you referred him to me for a final decision?"
The answer came immediately. “I informed Commander Bobbins that the final authority rested with you. That statement is factually correct.” He paused to think through the Captain's point. “If the choice is framed as a comparison between the controlled risks of medical transport and the uncertain risks associated with remaining aboard a vessel entering potential hostilities, then the analysis becomes more complex. That is a command consideration rather than a medical one. My assessment of the patient's condition is unchanged. He is not yet fit for transfer, and moving him would provide no direct therapeutic benefit. Should you determine that the broader operational picture justifies accepting that risk, I will ensure the transfer is conducted as safely as possible.”
Sylar sensed that Bobbins was preparing an intervention so spun to calmly address him. “Had that rationale been presented initially, the discussion might have proceeded more efficiently.” He paused again. "And I must add that, in reference to your comment, at no point was Ensign Dara going to be asked to perform long distance aerobic exercise."
"And I assume, Commander Bobbins, that you are unwilling to leave the ensign on board, under the care of Dr. Sylar, until we return to the starbase again," Erik asked.
"If the Doctor had let me explain further before he--" Bobbins stopped himself. He let out a sigh, softening a little. "Doctor Sylar... I have absolutely no question about your fitness to care for Ensign Dara. In fact, I applaud the care you've given your patient. However, I question the value of him being aboard your ship while you're on assignment. What if, God forbid, you need the bed he's in to treat another casualty? Or worse, you have a sickbay full of them? He's a burden you don't need, and one we can care for ashore. You've already lost a member of your crew, don't let this be a reason to lose another."
Erik held up a hand, forestalling the Lieutenant's answer, and addressed himself to the Commander. "While we do have provisions for such necessities, in this case, I agree. Given our orders and where we're headed, I think it best that the Ensign be transferred into the care of Starbase 310's medical staff. Lieutenant Sylar, if you could make the arrangements?"
Sylar nodded.
"Then I think we're done here," Norsgaard said as he rose from behind his desk, a clear signal that the meeting was drawing to a close. "Lieutenant Sylar will handle the transfer to your medical staff, Commander. "
"Thank you, Captain." Bobbins stood, passing by the Sylar. He hovered close to the medical officer, a smirk appearing on his face. "Thank you for everything, Doctor, I'll be sure to pass along your thorough care to Orfil's family. At least I knew there was no chance of him catching alight in your sickbay, unlike other parts of your vessel. Farewell gentlemen."
And with that, he gave both a curt nod and strode from the ready room like a peacock in full plumage, arms swinging on the way.
Norsgaard watched the man go and, once the Ready Room door had closed, he turned toward Sylar. "Politics has its own logic," he said. "Then too, our ship is getting something of a reputation, I'm afraid. I'll look into that explosion."
"Indeed, Captain," Sylar said flatly. “As for our vessel's reputation, I would not assign significance to the remarks of an individual who appears to regard condescension as a substitute for evidence. A most remarkable officer," Sylar said with an air of wonder. "A ship is not defined by the accidents that occur aboard it, but by the competence with which its crew responds to them. In that regard, we have performed according to procedures and satisfactorily." From a Vulcan, that was a glowing tribute.
"Well said, Doctor," Norsgaard responded. "Well said."
Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird
and
Lieutenant Sylar
Chief Medical Officer
USS Thunderbird
and
Lieutenant Commander Maxwell Bobbins (played by Bartholomew Hale)
Chief of Flight Operations
Starbase 310
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