Chapter Text
Commanding Officer's Log, Stardate 86932.08720192796
After the untimely death of Chief Medical Officer Saryi Neema, the starbase is finally receiving a new Chief Medical Officer today, transferred from the USS Aventine, who will be arriving in four hours. Doctor Severin Yusanis is an esteemed colleague of mine from our service together aboard the Melbourne and the Trident. In these troubled times, where our sickbay treats casualties from the Federation-Klingon war around the clock, I can think of fewer people more qualified and capable.
_
Commanding Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 86932.12081430739
If it were not unseemly to start my day with a very stiff drink, I'd be doing that right now. If I were a religious man, I would daresay this is the Four Deities' idea of a very cruel joke.
Admiral Yan Dooku pinched the bridge of his nose. He still had another hour before he had to report to the command center, so he went about his usual morning routine of black coffee and meditation. As a Betazoid, he found regular meditation - once in the morning before starting his day, and once in the evening before retiring to bed - to be an important part of keeping himself calm, cool, and fit for command, as not to be overwhelmed by the thoughts and feelings of two hundred thousand personnel, and in wartime, no less.
But despite his best efforts to quiet his mind, he found himself thinking of the doctor...
...imzadi.
Their relationship had long since been over, long enough that when it was first mentioned Doctor Yusanis would be transferred to Starbase 24, Dooku didn't think it would be a problem.
It was already a problem and the man wasn't here yet. He's going to be in sickbay, Dooku told himself, searching for logic when his emotions were running high. Your paths will rarely cross.
His cat, Pelo, a silver tabby, brushed against his legs with an inquisitive chirp. Dooku found that Pelo was highly attuned to his emotional states, and knew when he needed comforting; Dooku scooped up the cat and held him on his lap. Immediately Pelo began to purr, and Dooku stroked the cat, focusing his attention on that. "That's a good cat," Dooku murmured, scratching Pelo behind the ears and under the chin; Pelo's purrs got louder.
After awhile, the act of holding and petting Pelo relaxed Dooku enough that he felt it was sufficient to start his day. He put Pelo down on the floor and produced cat food and fresh water from the replicator, bringing it to where Pelo's dishes were located. He stooped down to give Pelo a last set of pettings before heading off to take a sonic shower.
Of course, being naked made him think of the doctor all over again, even though it had been years since the last time they'd been intimate, and his body had changed a bit since then - he was trim rather than beefy these days, his hair, facial hair, and body hair all silver instead of dark brown. For a sixty-eight-year-old man, he was in prime physical condition, looking at many more decades in Starfleet if this war didn't kill him; he exercised regularly, and was particularly fond of sport fencing and anbo-jitsu. He'd had his share of male and female attention, though he didn't pursue it - there had been no one since the doctor, except for the occasional paid service on Risa, and it had been a good ten years since the last time he'd been there. He didn't want entanglements, complications. Life was already complicated enough.
As he soaped himself, his body twinged - thinking of the doctor reminded him of how starved for touch he was. He hardened as, despite himself, his mind went back to all the times they'd made love, all the ways they'd had each other.
That is the past. That is going to be left in the past.
Dooku pushed the thought out of his mind with the ultimate hard-on killer - the carnage he'd seen during the Dominion War... indeed, the very thing that had led him to terminate his relationship with the doctor, knowing that if he lost Severin to the war, he wouldn't survive, and Severin himself had already lost enough. I'm doing you a favor, Dooku had told him at the time, and tried to believe it. Dooku didn't like thinking about the Dominion War except when he had to, to draw comparisons between the war then and the war now, to avoid mistakes repeating themselves... and this was a mistake he didn't want repeating, also.
Dooku quickly got out of the shower, not wanting to be naked, reminded of the physical, any longer than necessary. He changed into his uniform. Pelo whined with protest, knowing what the uniform meant, and Dooku gave him some more pettings. "I'm sorry, little one," he said, scratching the cat's chin some more. "You know I have to go to work. I'll be back."
The nice thing about starting his shift earlier in the morning was that the way to the command center didn't have much traffic. He passed through the halls alone, rode the turbolift alone. When he entered the command center the officers stood in acknowledgment. "Report," Dooku said.
"The Musashi arrived at 0300 for triage and repairs," said Lieutenant Ahsoka Tano, chief operations officer. "The Dewitt is on schedule to leave at 0700, and the Aventine is still en route as scheduled for 0900."
"Splendid," Dooku said. He didn't mean it. "I'll be in my ready room."
In his ready room, his personal console had many updates from the last twenty-six hours - war correspondence, especially events that were happening within range of the starbase. The last day had been quiet... too quiet. That was the way of this war - the calm, and then the storm, everything happening all at once. Starbase 24 was one of the closest starbases to the neutral zone between the Federation and Klingon Empire space; a research team was developing new weapons, and the staff was constantly busy treating wounded and repairing battle-damaged ships, such as the Dewitt had been, and now the Musashi. Dooku had survived Wolf 359, and the Dominion War - he'd become captain of the Trident during the Dominion War, a field promotion after his captain had been killed, and he'd been one of the most heavily decorated officers of the battle, on an Akira-class warship. It still hadn't prepared him for what this war would be like, with the Klingons. They were possessed of a savagery that made the Dominion look peaceful.
At 0700, the Musashi arrived, and Dooku spent the next ninety minutes de-briefing the crew - or what crew members didn't need their immediate medical services. It was harrowing - he never got used to these stories, as a Betazoid, feeling the pain and fear of crews who had just been through hell. When the de-briefing was over, Dooku sat in his ready room alone; his hands were shaking. He took slow, deep breaths. I should see Counselor Yoda this week.
The door chimed. Dooku sighed. "Yes," he said.
The doors opened and his first officer, Commander Obi-Wan Kenobi, stepped in. "Pardon the interruption, Admiral," he said, "but the Aventine is docking."
"Thank you, Number One."
Kenobi raised an eyebrow. "Will you be greeting our new arrival?"
Dooku folded his hands. "Are you free? You can do it, if you'd like. I need some time to work on a report of my notes from the de-briefing."
"All right." Kenobi nodded, and left the ready room.
_
Doctor Severin Yusanis was waiting in the shipbay, wheeling a suitcase, with a cat carrier in one hand and a duffel bag slung over the other arm.
"Doctor Yusanis," Kenobi said as he approached. He took the new CMO's hand and shook it. "I'm Commander Obi-Wan Kenobi. Welcome to Starbase 24."
"Where's the Admiral?" Severin cocked his head to one side.
"He's working on a report," Kenobi said. "I'll show you to your quarters."
"Hm."
As they made their way there, the cat in the carrier started meowing. "Shhh," Severin soothed. "We're almost home, baby."
"What kind of cat is he? She?" Kenobi asked.
"Black and white," Severin said. "Male." He smiled. "His name is Sagan."
"After the ancient Earth scientist?"
"Yes."
Kenobi smiled and nodded. "I love cats. My husband Qui-Gon and I have two. We have quite a few cat lovers in our personnel, in fact; the Admiral owns a cat himself."
"Does he." Severin pursed his lips. "Hm."
Kenobi was fully human, but he nonetheless detected discomfort. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh..." Severin gave a sheepish smile. "I thought the Admiral would be coming to meet me himself. He and I go back a long time."
Kenobi narrowed his eyes. He thought about saying I find that hard to believe - the doctor didn't look to be any older than his early thirties. Not a grey hair on his head, a mane of nape-length dark curls, with a neatly trimmed dark mustache and beard. More pretty than handsome, with full lips. He wasn't very tall, maybe a good five-seven at most. Pale, lean, wiry. Sad dark eyes, that looked older than the rest of him.
Severin noticed his response and said, "I'm El-Aurian. I've been in Starfleet since the twenty-third century."
"I see." Kenobi couldn't resist the crack. "So you really do know the Admiral."
Severin's laugh rang out, echoing in the halls, making a few passerby stare; Kenobi found himself relieved he was amused rather than offended. "He's not that old, Commander."
As the odds would have it, the doctor's quarters were right across the hall from the Admiral's, and Kenobi told him this; as disappointed as Severin seemed that the Admiral hadn't personally greeted him, Severin seemed equally disappointed that the quarters were right across from the Admiral's. Kenobi was confused but didn't press it. "There you are," he said. "If you need anything, please let me know. You'll have the rest of today to unwind, and then..."
Severin shook his head. "We're in the middle of a war and I hear you had a ship come in that sustained a large amount of casualties. I intend to scrub into sickbay as soon as I drop this stuff off and see to my cat."
"Suit yourself." Kenobi nodded. "There will be a meeting of senior officers at 1800 today, Deck 8, room 9, if you want to get to work right away..."
"I'll be there." Severin nodded. "Thank you for the information, Commander."
Sagan meowed, and Severin punched in the access code to his quarters.