"A Softer Place To Land, Part 1"
Posted on Sat Apr 30th, 2022 @ 6:06am by Lieutenant Lydia Whitlock M.D. & Cadet Third Class Aarfa Barakzay
Mission:
The Goddess
Location: Sickbay, USS Arcadia
1701 words - 3.4 OF Standard Post Measure
Having learned the CMO was taking care of their rescued survivors, Lydia wouldn't necessarily feel compelled to offer her services right away, especially because sometimes more hands and heads swirling around following a trauma could be more upsetting. However, when she had learned the rescued cadet in particular was especially traumatized to the point that she had become unconscious and somewhat incoherent, Lydia decided it might be important to offer her assistance. If nothing else, she could give the medical team an extra pair of hands.
Lydia entered the medical facility and inquired as to the cadet's whereabouts. The nurse pointed in the direction of the nearby entrance.
A moment later a tall shaggy-furred caninoid in a bedraggled cadet's uniform came through the door. She looked around, wearing a somewhat lost look - new ship without a single familiar scent, all the events of the last few hours; it made it hard to get her bearings. Spotting the human, her brows lifted hopefully. "Are you Lydia? The doc said Lydia would take me somewhere to wash up and rest."
Lydia was no stranger to the unique people that made up Starfleet and the Federation as a whole, but experience wasn't always enough to entirely quell her surprise when confronted with someone who looked different from anyone else she had ever encountered. This was certainly true in the cadet's case, the furred young woman immediately eliciting images of canines she had befriended in her youth or the untamed wild varieties she had seen in holos or in nature.
Still, Lydia was practiced enough to let her brain's surprise pass quickly so that she could attend to the sentient being beyond the exterior. As a physician and a therapist, the transition came just as naturally when she encountered someone in distress.
Whitlock smiled. "I am. My name is Lydia Whitlock. I am the ACMO and a therapist here. Right now, however, I'm just here to make sure you're as comfortable as you can be under the circumstances. There's no pressure to do or say anything you don't want to do or say."
No pressure was good, because at the moment Aarfa was at a loss as to what to say. Somehow she had held things together when faced with suspicion and harsh treatment, even the marine's more encouraging words, but until now there hadn't been sympathy and in the face of that she had to clench her jaw and straighten before she trusted her voice to answer. Because half the people here seemed to think she was some kind of animal and if she broke down completely, what would they think then? "Thank you, Doctor. I... I could really use a sonic shower. I'm covered in dirt and..." she looked at her claws and swallowed a soft whimper, "...blood."
The naturally nurturing Lydia felt compassion well within her upon hearing Aarfa's whispered words. She could only imagine how the young woman was feeling, having fought for her life in isolation only now to find herself surrounded by what she imagined would feel like overstimulation among strangers.
Whitlock didn't need any extra sensory abilities to understand Aarfa was doing her best to hold herself together, and as much as Lydia might be compelled to fold the cadet in her arms, she knew better than to do so. The counselor knew there would be plenty of time and for the shock to wear off. "Let's get you to some quarters where you can shower and rest. I'll lead the way." Lydia made a point to stay just ahead, but beside and on the outside of her charge. It may have been a small inconsequential thing, but Whitlock felt protective and a compulsion to keep others at a distance from Aarfa, protecting her from any unexpected contact or having to explain herself.
They made the journey in silence, but thankfully, it didn't take long.
Aarfa followed along, the passage through the ship barely registering other than the looks from people noticing her as they passed. She was used to a certain degree of notice - there weren't many other Kainan in Starfleet - but where she might normally just smile and nod, now she'd couldn't help feeling they were noticing the blood and filth and matted hair; a beast rather a person. So once they crossed the threshold into the quarters, there was a sense of relief, though it was as much an ancient instinctive reaction at having gained the safety of a den. "Thank you," she said to the Counselor. There was a awkward pause. As much as she wanted to shower and needed rest, she was loathe to be alone again. Stressful as some of the attention was, it was better than the isolation that nearly driven her mad. But asking the counselor to wait and stay with her... it was an imposition she had no right to ask. A note of hope still sounded in her next words. "I won't take long if you came along to talk with me. Despite all the fur, I'm pretty good at washing up quickly."
Lydia possessed no extra sensory abilities, so she couldn't know whether Aarfa genuinely wanted her to stay or if she was just trying to be compliant when all she really wanted was to get clean and rest. Wanting to make sure she didn't feel pressured to talk before she was ready simply because Lydia outranked her, but also wanting to make sure she didn't feel any more isolated than she may have already felt, Lydia said, "I would be happy to sit with you and talk or not talk if you like. I'll also understand if you'd prefer to just rest and shower without anyone hovering." Whitlock paused, then offered, "It's also OK if you're not sure what you want beyond sleep and a change of clothes. I'm happy to stay for as long or as little as you like. I imagine you need to stay hydrated and have some nourishment even if you're not terribly hungry."
"Thank you," Aarfa said sincerely. "I am hungry, but hovering is not an issue. If it wouldn't inconvenience you too much, I'd really appreciate it if you could stay." She ducked her head slightly in embarrassment; she knew how weak and needy that often sounded to humans. But it was how she was, and after all 'I just need to be alone' that was common for humans sounded borderline mental health crisis to her people. "I don't know how much you know about my species, but while we're not generally what humans would call out-going, we are social. Being alone is ...stressful... to the point where we class solitary confinement as cruelty."
"Your people sound very wise," Lydia offered with a nod. "I'm looking forward to learning more about them. In the meantime, you're not inconveniencing me at all, and as I said, I will stay with you for as long as you like. I can only imagine what you've been through and how overwhelming it must be to come aboard surrounded by colleagues, but still strangers. I expect it's going to take time for you to feel safe here, and if not being alone eases your stress, then I am happy to help you feel a little more grounded while you find your footing. You are welcome here," Lydia emphasized, somewhat aware of the misunderstanding that occurred when the cadet had been discovered.
Catching sight of the blood in Aarfa's nails, Lydia asked, "Do you feel steady enough to shower? If not, I can stay just outside the bathroom. Shock can only keep someone going for so long and if you have any physical injuries, it may be prudent to have someone close by." Lydia knew any pressing medical needs would've been taken care of in sickbay, but that didn't mean there wasn't still residual damage or pain that needed attending to. Other than being traumatized, Lydia. wasn't sure what else the cadet may have endured.
A swell of gratitude filled Aarfa at Lydia’s willingness to stay, and her kindness. “I won’t take long showering, but having someone nearby would be a comfort.” She doubted she’d collapse, but sensing another person close by would steady her in more than the physical sense. “Don’t worry about looking in either – I don’t have the body modesty taboos most humanoids seem to have. Back home my people often ‘fur it’, especially when the weather’s warm, and honestly, we usually regard grooming as a social thing,” she explained, hoping the counselor wouldn’t find that weird or off-putting.
Glad to give the young woman an opportunity to talk about something other than what she had been through, Lydia nodded. "As a doctor, I had to get over any reluctance I might have examining people with all sorts of anatomy, so I have some idea of what you mean. Still, I wouldn't presume to barge in without being invited, so thank you for understanding why I might need to check on you. Still, I won't do so unless you tell me you need me. Unless or until then, I was thinking I could focus on getting you something to eat and drink. Is there something in particular you would like or anything I should know you don't like or cannot eat or drink?"
"I'd love a a nice juicy steak." Aarfa's mouth practically watered at the thought. "I'm obviously," she lifted a lip and tapped one of her fangs, "a primarily carnivore, but not exclusively. I love tomatoes and green beans, in fact. The only things to avoid are too much garlic or onions - there'd have to be LOT to be toxic, but they have a scent that's ...off-putting if it's too strong." Not that even coated in onions would keep her from devouring a steak right now, but it was probably better to let the doctor know. "Thank you so much. I won't be long, I promise." And with that Aarfa slipped into the bathroom to wash off.
"Steak, veggies, no onions or garlic, got it," Lydia rattled off. "It'll be waiting for you by the time you're done."