Star Trek HERITAGE _____ DR. RICHARDSON’S PATIENT An Exercise By T.L. Shull
This short story is a fan written work and is not intended to infringe upon the copyrights of Paramount Pictures, CBS Corporation, or Pocket Books. It is provided free of charge to all fans for your enjoyment. Unauthorized copying or reproduction is prohibited. “Star Trek” is a registered trademark of Paramount Pictures and CBS Corporation.
Chapter Notes: This scene started off as a response to Ad Astra’s "I'm a doctor, not a…" challenge that I was unable to really finish before the deadline. After things settled down here at home, I picked up where I left off and the damn thing ended up being a HUGE TEASER for Star Trek Heritage, Book Two. It won't likely end up in the book, but it's a fun work-out!
U.S.S. Enterprise NCC 1701-G Eight Forward “I’m a doctor, not a bartender Captain,” mumbled the Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise-G to his commanding officer. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this.” “I’m not asking you Doctor, I’m ordering you,” replied Captain Elizabeth Riker calmly, trying to hide her smirk as she walked around the massive bar in the empty crew lounge. Upon seeing the look of total frustration on her CMO’s face she rolled her eyes. “Oh come on Ken, it’s for morale!” Doctor Kenneth Richardson sniffed with disdain and approached her from the front of the bar grabbing the front of it with his hands aggressively. “Morale my ass Captain…you mean it’s your way of entertaining the enlisted crewmembers at my expense.” He lifted one of his hands and drew it through the short locks of his
straight, blonde hair in his habitual way. His stark blue eyes blazed in what Beth could only ascertain as pure shock and revulsion. Riker had been on the other side of Richardson’s abrasive attitude long enough to know that it was mostly an act. He might have been a pig-headed, egocentric, selfish, sex-focused jerk on the outside, but she knew that deep down he was just a pig-headed, egocentric, selfish, sex-focused sweetheart of a guy. He just needed to be persuaded to lighten up. “Yes Ken, this function is all about you,” she said sarcastically. “It has nothing to do with thanking the hundreds of people on the Enterprise who bust their asses to keep her running smoothly. It has nothing to do with senior staff actually acknowledging the contributions of those who make our lives just a little bit easier. It has everything to do with me making sure you look like a jerk serving drinks to people you think are beneath you!” Richardson pulled back a bit with her biting remark. “You know that’s not how I really feel Captain, I just…” he stammered, “…just…” “Don’t like having to put out any effort to get to know people?” she snapped back and ignored his expression of denial. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed it Ken. You’re just a person who prefers to be alone…or at least on a one-on-one so to speak. You would do almost anything to avoid having to get to know your crewmembers unless you’re trying to bed one of them.” Richardson was stung again. “Captain…” “What Doctor? I don’t understand! You don’t have to like this function, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you out of it. And you’d better wear a god-damned
smile on your face the entire evening! Trust me when I say that there’d be more whispers and rumors if you didn’t show.” He was sickened by the very thought of the function. Two hundred enlisted crewmembers from the depths of the ship – most of whom he had never spoken to and wouldn’t really know – would be the guests of honor at a large party organized by his much more socially adept CO. He would have done anything to avoid having to have a conversation with any of them. He might have been okay with speaking to women on a one-to-one basis, but he desperately hated trying to have a “regular” conversation with anyone outside of the realm of medicine. Medicine was his domain and he reveled in its cocoon and worked very hard never to leave its comforting shell. Richardson may have been able to speak easily and without threat of rebuke with Riker, but that was only because she was the only CO he had ever worked for who could see right through his bullshit exterior. While she never exposed him to others outside of the senior staff, she never let him get away with it while alone with her. It was a lesson he learned weeks after meeting her. It was a lesson about those of Betazoid heritage he would never forget. Beth Riker was an acute a psychologist as he was a surgeon and he knew better than to step in the way of her mental scalpel. The dread of the whole ordeal built up inside and then sat in his upper stomach like gagh. “But Captain…the bartender? That’s just cruel, even for you.”
Riker raised her eyebrow with his comment and Richardson’s eyes widened with fear he might have actually crossed a line with her, but Beth surprised him once again and she blurted a laugh with the shake of her cocoa-haired head. She ceased perusing the bar’s stock to lock her pitch-black eyes onto her CMO’s terrified face. “Ken, I thought it would be the best fit for you. Dryden and Llewellyn are cooking and serving. I know you don’t like to cook and being out on the floor with a tray of hors d’oeuvres would make you feel subservient. Jaden, K’Reeg, Enya and I will be out on the floor talking to people and I know you would do almost anything to keep from conversing with people you don’t know. I thought that bartending would give you a job to perform and limit your exposure to any single person.” She sneered at him. “But now I’m beginning to regret catering to your internal fears Ken. I should order you to mingle…” “NO!” he blurted without realizing the intensity of his outburst. “Please Captain, anything – anything but mingling.” Riker rolled her eyes in frustration. “Fine. Then can I assume you can handle the bartending duties?” Defeated, Richardson nodded. “Good.” Riker barked. “Now, get back here and help me figure out how much ale we’ll need to bring up from the storeroom.” Ken shook his head and smirked at her. She had been the only CO, let alone only woman who ever sparred back with him. “You know? You can really be a pain the ass…and I mean that with all due respect…Captain.”
Beth grinned brightly and handed him an empty bottle of whiskey. “Why thank you Doctor…but I’m already married.” Richardson laughed and then felt a strange wave of melancholy slip past him. He averted his eyes from her and worked to shake off the feeling…hard. “So…what time does this shindig start?” he said ruefully. “Eighteen hundred, but I want you ready to go at seventeen thirty.” “Aye sir.” He sighed. “Wait…” She halted him. “Yes?” She dipped her head softly and lifted her eyes to him gently. “Can you stop by my quarters ten minutes or so beforehand? I think I may need an extra dose of my psiinhibitor before the party.” Richardson filled with concern. “You’re having break-though resonance on your current dose?” Riker had a rare genetic trait that caused her normally weak empathic abilities to explode into uncontrolled telepathic sensitivity when she was around other Betazoids. As one of the members of the senior staff was a full-blooded Betazoid, Riker had come to rely on the use of a fairly strong psi-inhibitor to keep from becoming overwhelmed with the thoughts of her crew of over 800. It had worked like a charm for well over a year but Richardson found himself stiffening when he saw her perceptibly nod her head in answer to his question. “How badly?” he asked. “Enough to cause a little nausea when I’m in a room with more than twenty or so people…and if Enya’s within a few meters of me,” she admitted.
“Captain, I’d like you to come down to sick…” “No,” she cut him off. “Just increase the dose. That should do it.” Richardson gritted his teeth then leaned to look her straight in the eyes. “No,” he retorted with heat. “Not until I find out the reason why you seem to be developing a resistance to the med.” Riker glared at him and he smiled victoriously. “I suggest you not argue with me Captain. I can make us both miss this function and trust me when I say it wouldn’t bother me in the least. So you either come down to sick bay and let me run a few tests now, or I’ll call Commander Dryden and…” “Fine.” Riker snarled at him and set a bottle on the bar and began to move towards the lounge’s door. “But we’re not missing this party.” Richardson knew better than to press her any further and he followed her out the door and down to his sickbay. Once inside and with one quick glance to his nurse T’Sau who cleared the area, Richardson had the captain sitting on a biobed in an empty and private exam bay. He immediately pulled out his initial diagnostic scanner and took her vitals and upon seeing nothing extraordinary he looked to T’Sau who, without needing orders, moved to a special drawer near his office and removed two special diagnostic tools, both of which assisted him with his CO’s unusual condition. “Thanks Lieutenant,” he said, taking the two devices from the Vulcan’s hands. She moved out of the exam area. Riker sighed with agitation as he placed a small electronic device on her forehead and held the second padd-like device in his hand. He pressed three
commands on the small panel and the two devices synchronized. Richardson viewed the data quickly. “Well first things first, you’re a little dehydrated. Have you been cutting back on the caffeine like I told you?” Riker remained silent and only glared at her physician. Richardson rolled his eyes and looked back at the small device in his hand. “Am I going to have to get Elieth to change the programming in every replicator on the ship or are you going to cut down on the coffee?” Beth merely growled at him. Richardson released what could only be understood to be a sigh of relief and Beth picked up on it immediately. “Well, you’re not pregnant,” he said flippantly yet coolly. Beth was hit by a wave of shock. It had never occurred to her to even think about pregnancy. Her last visit with McGregor may have been just days beforehand, but they were anything but careful. She was frightened briefly by the idea that she might end up pregnant without having McGregor anywhere near to her, but then she was then awash with disappointment that she wasn’t pregnant at all. Her expression was not lost on Richardson and he cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked back to his medi-padd. “You’re telepathic cortex is definitely under a barrage Captain. The psi-inhibitor level you receive is definitely not enough to filter out whatever it is that you’re being assaulted by. I think we’re lucky that Commander Priest is up on the bridge.”
Beth nodded in concurrence. “It started a couple of weeks ago. I just thought…” “Weeks?” Richardson questioned with irritation. “Damn it Beth, what is it with you four-pippers? Are you all completely irrational when it comes to medicine or do you just prefer to be martyrs?” Again Beth glared at him but attempted to make a response. “You know I’ve been busy Ken. We’ve barely made it back from the Crux Arm and reports from all divisions have been...” “Do you really think I’m that stupid Captain? I’m part of the senior staff too you know. Revaik’s been brilliant in handling the science division reports to Command. K’Reeg, Elieth and Llewellyn have kept the ship running so smoothly I’m sure we’d know about a lurking Shent ship a full month before it got here and Dryden’s got the rotation set so tight the personnel are actually loving their jobs. While I don’t doubt you’ve got a routine, I am sure as hell not going to believe you’ve been too busy.” He lifted the small device up and showed it to her. “Your potassium levels are out of whack and so are your lactic acid levels.” He tossed the device on the table and folded his arms and set his jaw tightly. “So how long have you been going without sleep? Weeks? A Month? More?” Beth swallowed, closed her eyes and didn’t answer. Richardson huffed in frustration. “Have you been getting any sleep or just a few hours a night?” Riker shifted and licked her lips. “Two, maybe three a night.” Quietly Richardson rubbed his eyes. “For how long?”
Riker bowed her head weakly. “Since we departed the Crux Arm.” His jaw dropped. “That’s been six weeks! Why? Why haven’t you come to see me?” Riker shook her head with agitation. “Because Ken…I wanted to practice closing off the noise on my own again. I used to be able to do this all on my own – without the need for drugs. I was hoping I wouldn’t need to rely on artific…” “You were never in a position of being around eight hundred people and Betazoids when you were younger Captain. You admit you were barely able to close off the few hundred around you growing up on Titan, and you were only lucky there were no Betazoids assigned to any of your previous assignments before taking the helm here on the Enterprise. It’s not a sign of weakness Captain – to the contrary I am still amazed you went for most of your life without having to use any inhibitor – but you yourself have stated that you simply can’t concentrate in your position if you’re not blocking the noise.” Beth dropped her head and her cheek flushed bright red. “It’s true…I can’t.” He walked around the biobed to another drawer, pulled an empty hypospray and connected it to the drug replicator. He punched in the prescription and the vial filled as requested. He walked back over to her but didn’t inject her. He cleared his throat quietly and softened his tone. “I’m not convinced lack of sleep is the real culprit Beth. You’ve never really had trouble sleeping that I can recall.”
“Only once,” she stated. “When Q came to visit. I barely slept that night.” Richardson grinned. “Well I can understand the stress associated with a visit from Q. What about these past two months. Any unusual stress? Command asking too much from you?” She looked up to him pleadingly. “That’s the thing Ken. No. Command has been great. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing going on that should be causing this kind of reaction in me. We’re exploring! We’re looking at new worlds! We’re studying new star systems and nebulae and planets. We’re doing everything … everything I’ve ever wanted to do and we haven’t had to fire a single torpedo at anyone in over two months! I don’t know why I’m not sleeping. I only know that since we left for Sector 001 I haven’t been able to catch more than a few hours sleep a night. But the noise didn’t start to leak through until a couple of weeks ago. I just don’t know!” Richardson could see the look of pure frustration and maybe a little fear cross his captain’s beautiful face. He felt a kick of sadness and then turned to lean up against the biobed next her. He fought from placing his arm around her. “I’m going to have to tell Starfleet Medical you know.” Beth shot him a beseeching look and Richardson tried to ignore it. It tore him up to have to tell her so. “Look Beth, you’re part of the research group now. Only twenty-two other people suffer from the same condition. Twenty-two. Twenty-two other people have agreed to share everything that happens with them so we can try to keep abreast of any changes in treatment. If the psi-
inhibitor’s effectiveness is fading for you, it might also begin to fade for the others in the group. I have to tell them.” “None of the others are commanding a starship Ken.” “Maybe not, but their jobs are no less important to them.” Stung, Beth grimaced and shook her head. “I can still do my job doctor.” “Of that I have no doubt Captain. Maybe by sharing this information we can determine if others are suffering from the same sleep deprivation and breakthroughs.” “So what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” He sighed and looked to the hypo in his hand then reluctantly set it on the bed. He looked to her with concern. “Do you think you could stand the function this evening without an increase in the inhibitor? Counselor Priest’s presence will make it difficult.” Confused, Beth shrugged. “I suppose I can. I’d rather not. When people get a little tipsy their thoughts tend to…uhm, let’s just say I’m sure they probably wouldn’t appreciate their CO knowing who they want to have sex with.” Richardson laughed heartily. “But Captain, you’ve known that I think like that about you at any given moment of time and you’ve never held that against me.” Beth grinned. “Although you wish I would.” His head bounced with his laughter as he stood to face her. “Every moment of every day Captain,” he joked, or so he thought. He cleared his throat once more and moved to the drawer near his office door once again. He perused the equipment laying inside and once finding
the devices he was looking for he walked back over to his patient. “If you can go without the meds tonight, before you go to sleep, I want you to place these on your forehead. These monitor the four types of waves your telepathic cortex processes and hopefully we’ll be able to determine what may be causing you to lose sleep – or even if it involves the telepathic regions of your brain at all. If not, I’ll increase the psi-inhibitor tomorrow and we can look to other sources for your sleep interruption. If so, then maybe we can search to determine what may have changed in your telepathic status. I’m concerned the inhibitor itself might be the culprit.” “I was afraid you might say that,” she admitted. “Well let’s not assume that’s the problem. I’m not close to believing it is. No, I think there’s something else at work here, it just might take awhile to find. Do us both a favor and try to look back on what the differences are between your life habits now as opposed to when we were in The Crux Arm. Anything…and I mean anything different, no matter how mundane, might provide us with a clue as to why you’re not sleeping.” “Fine,” she responded. “Oh…” he stopped her, “…and no drinking tonight and absolutely no coffee.” “No drinking?” she questioned. “But Ken tonight’s the…” “I know Captain, but I also know for a fact you rarely drink. I simply don’t want alcohol to affect any test results. And that’s an order.” “No coffee either? Then what the hell am I supposed to drink at the party?” she complained.
Richardson smiled. “No worries Captain. I’m the bartender, remember? I’ll mix up something tasty and caffeine free.” Beth sighed and scooted off the biobed and began to walk out of sick bay. “Captain,” he called to her. She stopped with a snarl and turned to see Richardson holding one hand out and the other pointing at his forehead as an indication to her. “You may not want to show up at the party with a neurodiagnostic panel still attached to your forehead.” Beth’s eyes looked up and she lifted her hand to pull the device from her forehead with a look of exasperation. “Don’t be late,” she threatened weakly and after slapping the device into the physician’s hand she turned to depart sick-bay. Richardson watched her walk away and his concern melded with his squelched affection for her. “I’ll be early,” he whispered only to himself. ** True to his internal word Richardson arrived in the lounge ten minutes before necessary. Riker, already beginning to direct her senior staff to assure everything was prepared and that the function would flow smoothly smiled brightly when she saw him. He bowed his head briefly then moved behind the bar to familiarize himself with the set-up. The function itself was actually better than he had expected. The crewmen were well-behaved and many of those seeking drinks were very pleasant. None of them
seemed to pay him too much attention and he was able to pass the time pouring all manner of drinks. It was a few hours later when he was able to break long enough to scan the lounge and his eyes were caught by Riker talking to two enlisted ops crewmen. While she bore a smile he could tell that she was having extreme difficulty maintaining her concentration. He was just about to move towards her and tell her that maybe she should leave the party when he noticed the Enterprise’s First Officer, Paul Dryden, approach her from behind and tap her on the shoulder. He whispered briefly in her ear and she immediately excused herself from the conversation and left the lounge. It wasn’t until much later that he noticed she hadn’t returned to the party. As Dryden passed by the bar he called to him. “Commander, do you have a moment?” Dryden stopped and moved towards Richardson intently. “What can I do for you Doctor?” Richardson moved Dryden towards the end of the bar and quietly addressed him. “I noticed the Captain hasn’t returned. Is she all right?” Dryden looked around quizzically and looked a little stunned when he realized that Riker was not in the room. “She received a communiqué from Command, but I would have thought she would be back by now. Maybe it’s just taking longer than I thought.” Richardson nodded. “Thank you Commander.” Dryden departed the bar and Richardson waited a beat until he could see Dryden enter into a lively conversation with a small group of engineering crewmembers. Richardson quickly moved from behind
the bar, out of the lounge and into the turbolift. “Deck eleven,” he called. As soon as the lift doors opened he shot out onto the deck and ran towards the Captain’s quarters. It was a quick jaunt around a slight arc in the corridor and his hand touched the doorbell before his feet even stopped running. There was no answer. He rang again. Again, there was no answer. “Computer emergency medical override, Richardson Alpha one seven four Rho!” he commanded. “Confirmed,” the computer responded and the door slid open almost silently. Richardson rushed inside and wasn’t too surprised to find Riker lying on the floor of her living quarters. He bolted to her side. “Captain!” It was apparent she had collapsed after walking from her desk. A quick triage revealed she was barely conscious. “Beth?!” Riker whimpered slightly and murmured but he couldn’t hear her form any coherent words. He clicked his combadge. “Richardson to Dryden. Meet me in sickbay STAT!” “Acknowledged,” Dryden replied. He clicked his combadge again. “Richardson to Transporter Room Four, emergency site to site transport of two directly to sickbay!”
Before the verbal acknowledgement returned, Richardson scooped up Riker’s limp and lengthy body into his arms and as he turned her, her foot struck a small black idol resting on her desk. It fell to the floor and rolled under the desk as the transporter beamed away the doctor and his patient.