Reporting To Medical For the Requisite Humiliation Ritual

Posted on Mon Apr 13th, 2026 @ 9:00pm by Lieutenant Commander Elias Ford & Ensign Ozai Y'zyr

1,977 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Flashbacks and Side Quests
Location: USS Firebird - Sickbay
Timeline: Early in Interlude 2

[ON]

Ozai stepped inside the medical wing and sighed behind his firmly affixed mask. He set fingers to each side of it to be sure it was steady, an unconscious habit. His CO had ordered him to report in, which was pretty standard. But he didn't have to be happy about it. So his entrance was somewhat more of a trudge. Noting a doctor, he waited patiently to be noticed before moving far past the doorway.

He knew, Ford knew. There was no question. He could swear he heard the mechanical footsteps all the way from the turbolift. Ensign Ozai Y'zyr. A man with a medical file the size of a bible. Blind, quadriplegic. Equipped with artificial limbs and eyes. Evidence of extreme rejection of replacement organs or extreme negligence. Ford did not have the chance to examine Ensign Y'zyr yet, until today. He rubbed his eyes as he examined the Ensign's transfer orders.

"Mister Y'zyr, you're early" he waved him over from his desk "Sit"

There was a bare hint of hesitation before the Trill followed through with that invitation. He walked over to the desk and took the opposing seat as bidden, and promptly clammed up. This Human doctor seemed a bit... gruff? Was that what it was? Or just slightly unkempt? His hair was a mess... not that Ozai would ever say something. He was more concerned with the business of the moment.

"I was ordered by the CO to report... for a *full* work-up." He paused, glancing elsewhere around them. "She's not confident I won't fall apart on duty just yet." Another pause, then a somewhat nervous addition. "Physically. Physically fall apart. Sir." How much he hated saying that. It was like an invitation for the medical staff. Hey, run as many or whatever tests you like, I am your guinea pig, here as ordered! He hoped this doctor had many other things to do and wasn't bored. Bored medical staff... *SHUDDERS*

"Full work-up" he repeated to himself. Of course. Absolutely, more work. The work Starfleet Medical should have done. Better yet, the work Trillius Prime Medical should have done. He tapped away the transfer orders of the Ensign and dragged a medical tricorder closer to him. ''Your Commanding Officer-" he said as he activated and let the tricorder whirr away on his desk "- is Captain Malcom Llwyedd. Your Department Head is Commander Rhiana t'Aegis" He fully sat back on his chair. Already missing the impressive diagnostic equipment of the USS Valkyrie.

"Is this your first posting mister Y'zyr?"

"Ahh..." Ozai cringed internally, and perhaps a bit externally as well. What a rookie mistake. "My mistake. My Department Head gave the order... and, yes. First posting." Hence the rookie mistake. Red eyes set on the tricorder momentarily, then back up to the doctor, a question in them about what came next that he didn't verbalize.

"I'm sure some of the information is already in my file. I had some scans done while at the Academy. Routine stuff, mostly..." But he didn't want to anger t'Aegis by giving her old data, so he droned off, the pit in his stomach growing. He always felt stiff and self-conscious in sickbays, like he couldn't move or breath without proving something was wrong with him. His brain liked to stop working properly as well. So he shut his mouth and tried to take in an even breath of air and slow his heart rate without being obvious about it.

Ford had seen his fair share of nervous young officers, the behavior was normal. Healthy even. "Yeah its here" he double checked. He tapped though the signatures and the evaluations. The ensign was in fact cleared for duty. Barely. But as long as he served on the Firebird he would be held liable if that turned out to be a mistake. He reached over to the tricorder to make it stop. And he stood up.

"This way mister Y'zyr, lets get you on a biobed" the ensign did not seem to be in pain. And his scans so far showed no signs of disease. He talked as they moved over to the biobed row. "This mask is not regulation, and I see no prescription for it on your file." He motioned him over to the biobed as he moved toward the controls. "Do you not feel well?"

Quickly. "I feel fine. It's... preventative." The Trill knew it made him stand out even more than he already did, but he'd come to feel abnormal without it. He walked behind the doctor, realizing they'd never properly introduced themselves. Sometimes there was no need. He knew this was the Chief of Medical, Ford. And Ozai had had an appointment. He didn't think long on it before halting next to the biobed. Clearly the next step was getting onto it. Which he could do any time.

But he didn't quite yet.

"Lieutenant Commander Ford, correct?" Stalling for a moment.

Ford stopped tapping. "That's correct ensign"

But there was only so much stalling he could do, and he bid himself to hop up onto the biobed without being chastised to do it first. At first he sat on the edge, then swung his legs up onto the platform and laid back, staring up at the ceiling and various gadgetry and computer panels that he could see from that angle. There was a sinking feeling that Ford would find something wrong... some doctors often found things that interested them, some were in-and-out the door. But he was having trouble placing Ford in what category he would be in yet.

The biobed's scanner activated with a familiar hum. And Ford read through the readings like a man reading through a bad novel. Ensign Y'zyr was fine, healthy even. If one were to ignore his missing limbs and eyes. His gut already decided to dislike the physician who was responsible for the ensign's current state. Indeed at first glance this all seemed as an attempt to compensate instead of cure. Replace rather than heal. Ghastly.

But it was too soon to condemn a doctor on the other side of the sector just by looking alone. "Alright mister Y'zyr. You may sit up" Ford was already tapping on the console until it yielded an isoleniar chip.

Doing as bidden and pushing up to sit on the bio-bed, he said in a somewhat humored tone, "No need to mince words. I've heard most of them by now, I think." Trying to sound unbothered, the Trill was also trying to get a read on Fords expression. "It's terminal, isn't it." His attempt at medical humor. "But, seriously. Everything is normal. Normal for me. I feel fine. There's no itching, wheezing, burning, pain, pressure, nada." It was the litany of questions that always got asked, and he was cutting to the chase to save the poor Doc some time.

Normal for you is not a medical standard I can sign off to Ford thought. He was already tapping away, calculating the ways this file would come back to haunt him years from now depending on how he phrased things. Monitoring? No. Longitudinal assessment of integrative prosthetic function? Better. Much better.

He handed the chip that the console produced to the ensign. "Medically speaking. You have problems mister Y'zyr, major problems. But your life is not in danger right now. You should be thinking about how to keep things moving in this direction for now because the fleet will not do it for you." Satisfied with how the report looked he turned the console off. "What remains of your left leg, is a bit shorter than the right leg. Zero point two centimeters to be precise. It's throwing you off-balance. On this chip there is a prescription for new boots, you can report to the Quartermaster to get that sorted out."

"Oh..." Ozai said somewhat dumbfounded. "No one's ever caught that before." He glanced down at his legs, swinging slowly off the edge of the bio bed. "I guess I just got used to it as they were." The Trill was pondering what Doc Ford meant by that fleet statement, but clearly the doctor didn't want him to stand static as he was. Did he want him searching for new options?

Honestly? Ozai had stopped looking to change things. Small adjustments to his implants were possible without surgery, but new legs required new ports to match. Surgery. Four of them, if they all became ill-fitting. Then there were his eyes, which were an entirely different kind of horror. The thought of a doctor plucking his eyeballs out of his head with an ice cream scoop, however medically inaccurate, played in his head.

"I try to keep my weight exactly where it is. It helps to avoid needing replacements." He said in a somewhat softer tone, momentarily forgetting some of his anxiety about being in sickbay, he read over the order for new boots.

Ford's mouth twitched though not quite into a smile. He harbored deep disdain for mechanical replacements, especially those he deemed unneeded. But he was not in the habit of tearing something apart simply because he disliked the workmanship.

"That might work in civilian life mister Y'zyr but life on the Fleet is unpredictable." He flagged the ensign's file, cleared for duty. Barely. "I am clearing you for duty. If you contact your family, see if you can get them to send you your old medical records."

The console twitched with a noise Ford hated as it accepted his commands. He pretended to ignore it as he motioned over his own face. "Finally, I did not prescribe this." It was obvious what he meant. "So when you leave this bay, you are in breach of uniform."

"Ah." Ozai said simply, fingers coming up to touch the mask. "Yeah. I hear you." He'd already gotten an earful about the mask from Commander t'Aegis. If he could just not wear it, it would probably draw less attention. But that was easier said than done.

"You wouldn't be willing to make it part of your prescription?" He asked, though he was sure he knew the answer already. Having trouble reading Ford, the guy was crotchety for sure. "I actually have my complete record in my private files. I'll pop that over to you." Wouldn't take but a few minutes to do that. He'd kept a complete copy just in case, knowing it might come in handy. "Though, I get the feeling you don't exactly... approve is the wrong word, but..." He quieted down, not wanting to poke the bear, as his Human friends said. Not approving of him exactly, but approving of the circumstances, or the situation. Unless he was totally off reading the mans aura.

Ford gestured him to slow down. "Mister Y'zyr on the Fleet, prescriptions are orders. And I've already given you one, remember? Get that sorted out, then we can move on to your file. I'm sure you have more people to see today."

Ah. The sign that the doctor wanted him to get the fudge out of Dodge. Whatever Dodge was. It was something a Human friend would say that he'd never caught the background for, but the meaning was clear enough. Ozai slipped off the bio bed and made way past Ford. "Right. Right, I hear you. I'll get out of your way."

Heading toward the doors, he stopped and turned. "You'll send the report to Commander t'Aegis?" Of course he would, that was the point, wasn't it? He made a note to send Ford his previous records, as requested. "See you later, Doc."


[OFF]

Lieutenant Commander Elias Ford
Chief Medical Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Ensign Ozai Y'zyr
Tactical Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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