“I’ve got this rash, doc,” Kellin said. Sheepishly, he grimaced at her and ducked his chin down. Despite his height, Kellin was sat far enough back on the biobed to let his legs dangle off the side of it. He folded his uniform jacket in his lap, each fold crisp and precise. In his black tank top, he reached out his left arm to display the circular rashes on his upper arm.

Looking to Jordan then, he said, “I’ve had it since…” –He squinted up at the overhead, appearing lost in thought, struggling with mental math– “Fourth Fleet shore leave. The itching is gone, but it’s still a little raw to the touch.”

Jordan activated her gloves, slipping into her newfound role as Chief Medical Officer on a Saber-class starship.   It was far removed from her standing assignment on the Pathfinder-class Perseverance.  She had been told this temporary assignment would help her improve her ability to work well with others, given her interest in the position of Executive Officer, and several days aboard the Spartan had given her plenty of time to think about the possible position.  They were all here for a special assignment, and she was, for now, content to fill the role of the ship’s doctor. She activated her face shield, moved closer to examine it with her eyes, and scanned it with her medical tricorder.  The rash was a sullen red and blotchy.  Jordan transferred the results to her PADD.  “What have you been treating it with?”  She had read his dossier.  There was a lot of history – told and untold in the lines of his history.

“All I had was an emergency kit,” Kellin said helplessly.  “Dermal regenerator and antiseptic foam. And then– and then I guess I forgot about it? Don’t they say you can get used to anything after twenty-one days?”

Reid scrolled through her PADD, tapping at the results and bringing order to the chaotic readings.  She frowned out of habit, slipping out her tricorder and taking another pass at the rash.  “Whoever says that isn’t a doctor.  If my grandmother had wheels, she’d be a bike, and I don’t think she’d get used to that in 21 days.”  The PADD returned as she adjusted the results against what she was seeing before she focused back to Kellin, “What kind of contact did you have with animal, flora, or otherwise on your shore leave?”

“It’s hard to know,” Kellin said, and he scratched the back of his neck. His clear gaze on Jordan faded into the middle distance as the question waited impatiently in the space between them.

“I was sleeping in the wild, doctor,” Kellin explained. He shrugged and frowned to emphasize that point. “Hunting rumours of a salt vampire through the highlands of Caldos. I slept wherever I could find cover for the night.”

Jordan let out a dry chuckle, “Lots of things in the wild that can give a rash.  It would explain the readings being a bit all over the place.”  She refined the search to the specific location Kellin had specified.  “Salt Vampires are not light work.  Rumored to be extinct, but there’s always enough every year or so to convince the universe they’re still hanging around somewhere.”  She tapped at the PADD, “Thankfully, it appears to be a plant-based allergy – very specific to the planet.”  Reid shifted over to the hypospray station, where she began to assemble the right combination.  “Why hunt down a Salt Vampire, anyway?”

“Because the mayor of Glaemorra asked?” Kellin said. It was a straight-forward answer. Could hardly get simpler. But at the last moment, his voice cracked with a hesitancy at the sheer simplicity.

His gaze turned evasive, dropped down to his knees. “My squadron commander was being honoured on Caldos. The mayor said the rumours were hurting tourism. I should– I could have remained with my ship’s crew, but my squadron commander… She’s more than that.  She’s my mentor. I owe her everything.”

Reid finished putting together the right mixture.  “I’m a doctor, not a JAG lawyer.”  She gently placed the dispenser against the rash and pressed down, the obligatory hiss confirming treatment.  “We all have people we would drop everything for and come running.”  Her voice caught in her own memories for a moment before she diverted her attention back to the rash as it began to dissipate.  “Those decisions are the hardest to make, and even harder to forgive ourselves if we make the wrong call.”

Kellin looked up from his arm and considered Reid. He asked, “When was the last time you–”

“Bridge to Commander Rayco,” announced a voice through the comms system. “We are approaching the coordinates of the alien vessel. Dropping out of warp in three minutes.”

“On my way,” Kellin replied. “Rayco out.”

He had hardly said the words, and the self-reflected creases on his forehead were long gone. He held back an excited smile, like a child sitting before a large cake. Otherwise, he remained still while Reid completed administering her treatment.

“Mystery awaits, doctor,” he said.

Jordan stepped back, “Hopefully not too great a mystery.”  She watched him bound out of sickbay, leaving her with a bittersweet taste in her heart.  She had come close to opening up about Ambrose.  Was she learning to trust again?  She turned to the small team, “Let’s run through process and procedure on triage and trauma just in case.”