There are those days when one wakes up, after sleeping in, feeling refreshed and revitalized. To feel well-rested and ready to embrace the new day for all the challenges and opportunities it would present. Waking up on the right side of the bed: a colloquial term she often heard her family say when she was younger.
This was not one of those days for Dr. Landra. Instead, she woke up disoriented and in pain from a crick in her neck after sleeping on a hard sofa that was far less comfortable than her personal accommodations. She was sure that there was a rule somewhere about sleeping where you work. She sat up slowly and stretched, with a big yawn, and scanned the room. Her eyes landed upon a clock, and as she realized the time, she was suddenly very alert, and very upset that she had slept in so long. Why hadn't someone come to wake her up sooner?!
She had to steady herself after standing up too fast. In her excitement, she pushed through the disorientation and the ache in her muscles. It was too late to catch breakfast in the mess hall, but she didn't mind. She was in far too much of a hurry to be bothered with something so unimportant in comparison to the work she had to do.
She slipped into the infirmary to see that her staff members were taking care of a few of the ship's crew members. Two of the three were here for menstrual cramps and to get more supplies. The third was a private known for his bad attitude. It seemed that he finally crossed a line and a superior officer decided to put him in his place. He would likely be relegated to some menial grunt work for a few weeks until his superiors decided he had learned his lesson. Landra couldn't say that she felt bad for him. The private had directed that bad attitude of his at her more than once since he was assigned to the Sagitta. She was sure that it had something to do with rejecting his advances. Not that he would have had a chance, even if the admiral didn't enforce strict policies against fraternization. Apparently, the man held a grudge. He noticed her come in and glared coldly at her, and she winked and made her way to the opposite end of the infirmary, to the private chamber with the armed guards outside.
Her only care at the moment was her star-famed patient of interest. She was eager to check on him and see how he was progressing. She stopped outside beside the guard and uttered a quick greeting. He smiled at her and shuffled out of the way for a moment so she could grab the patient's chart. She murmured a quiet thank you and entered the room.
After quietly flipping through the chart and reviewing her team's notes about his conditions through the night, she began checking his vitals again for herself. The man, roused by her buzzing about, opened his eyes, which intently followed her every movement. When she finished scribbling some more notes on his chart, she smiled at him.
"Do you feel like sitting up today?" Again, the man made no response. He only stared at her. She elevated his bed a few degrees, so that he was half sitting up and fussed with his IV for a few moments to make sure the drip was still going. She would have sworn that his face relaxed for a moment, relieved to be in a more comfortable position. But it was so quick, and such a small movement that she couldn't be sure.
The man's color also seemed to be improving, which encouraged her a little. She pulled a chair up closer to the bedside and sat for a while, jotting notes and reviewing his chart, again. She was hoping that he might try communicating with her finally. But alas, he remained as silent and mysterious as the vast expanse they had traveled to find him.
Disappointed, she sighed and stretched. "You must be exhausted. I'll make sure that my team and I don't bother you too much today; you need more time to rest."