[Classified] || [Redacted]

Posted on 21 Dec 2020 @ 12:21pm by Lieutenant JG Xero Bren

=.\= Symbiosis Comission Headquarters =.\=

=.\= Two months ago =.\=

"You'll die. It'll die. I can't guarantee either of you will survive The Joining."

"That's what I heard," the patient replied.

"Then why? How can you look someone in the eye and say I volunteered for what will most likely be a long, painful death?"

The patient looked the doctor directly in the eyes—the windows of their soul!--when the words that he said next were said....

=.\= "Personal Log, Stardate 242012.20...=.\=

=.\= Today =.\=

"I didn't realize just how different of a person I would become when I was selected to become the host of... me.

"When I applied to become a host through the Symbiosis Commission I was drummed out of the program by Vod--my rival. His host was Jayvin when we met. I don't know who or where he is now. I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but Jayvin was... unpleasant to know. I'm hoping that the next time I meet him his new host won't be such and asshole.

"I was deemed compatible for The Joining, so even though I did not get to continue the program and meet or be evaluated by a previous host, I volunteered to accept a symbiont in the rare occasion that it's life was in danger and could only survive by being joined with a host.

"My history--Bren's history--has been involved in a number of temporal and interdenominational events. My last host--Trael--was the director of Starfleet's Temporal Investigations Department. The cocky bastard took that to mean that our job was bouncing around through space and time. Sometimes--and this is privileged information--he would 'investigate' a crime that hadn't even happened yet. How he got away with that kind of behavior is easily answered: he was a charismatic Admiral, and there was no imaginable way anyone could prove that his actions in the past contaminated the present. It was a nice little loophole at the time.

"Even when I lost the ability to use transporters, I--he--requisitioned a runabout for personal use. Two days later, I took a transporter to the shipyard to pick up the Velocity and my security escorts had to carry my ass to the runabout, fly it to back to the ship, and summon a medical team upon arrival.

"Most people don't know what it's like when using the transporter isn't advisable and is also the only option. It's a lot like if a human got alcohol poisoning: hot and cold flashes, vomiting, diarrhea, constant sweating, and general lethargy. So far, with this new host, the symptoms last for about 12 - 18 hours. Once I get through it I feel a lot better, but losing half a day is a heavy price to pay.

"I think one of the weirder parts of this transition is the fact that I was already a doctor serving in Starfleet when an Admiral died and my name was next on the list of emergency hosts. Why? Because I used to have one of the highest security clearances possible, and now I can't talk about the greater portion of my previous life because it's all classified, and might compromise existing officers, operations, installations, and planets. I know more than most of my superior officers, all of whom were in high school thinking about becoming a cadet; meanwhile, I was accepting my first command as CO of the Crazy Horse (and damn if we didn't live up to the first half of that name!)

"Maybe that's part of the reason I was chosen: the Chief Medical Officer is rarely a member of a ship or station's Command Team. Yes, I have the ability to relieve just about anyone of duty with justifiable proof of a medical or psychological issue, but I am also not obligated to hang out on the Bridge or anything like that. Then there's the fact that because I'm the Chief Medical Officer no one would expect that I have 40 years of Command and Tactial experience under my belt. This job title affords me a decent security clearance, and because doctor-patient confidentiality is a thing anyone can tell me anything and it's basically illegal for me to repeat it.

"In other news: joining with Xero was one of the easiest I've had in 8 lifetimes. He took really good care of his body, and made great choices when it came to his hair. I haven't had shoulder-length hair since Kejana--the last time I was a female. Of all my hosts, she and Trael were my favorites. I know... it's rude to rank your previous hosts, but at the same time it's unlikely I'll survive another host after this one.

That said: protocol and all that stuff just seems... wasteful. After 700 years it's just.... I don't know.... Boring? No, not boring: masturbatory. For instance: 'permission to speak freely.' That's just a waste of time. No matter how I phrase what I'm gonna say, whether or not they want to hear it, or who's technically in charge at the time: my job is to tell the truth. We can dance around formality, but lets be honest: some of the greatest and most notable events in the history of the Federation began with a few officers sitting down for an honest, informal drink.

"I'm not denying that the rest of those events were formal: I'm just saying that the first option is a lot easier, more honest, and if the opportunity presents itself... well, lets just say I love a good game of Spanish 21.

"I used to suggest poker when I was sitting around with my officers, or amenable dignitaries. That game is basically a lying contest, and once you see a pattern in their behavior you'll know what to look for tomorrow morning when we all go back to work. Add to that the fact that you've got a captive audience—the hyper-competitve won't give up until they run out of chips. Everyone else usually accepts another round or three. A simple 'Oh come on, just one more hand' and the potential opinions of their peers generally contributes to the likelihood that they'll captitulate.

“All of that said: computer, end log.”

=.\= CMO's Quarters, USS Mark Miller =.\=

=.\= Today =.\=

Xero survived, and returned to duty shortly afterword.

=.\= Doctor Xero Bren

Chief Medical Officer, USS Mark Miller