(TMR) Prompt #130: Loyalty
The Demands of Loyalty
"Corporal Ishay. This is an unexpected pleasure." Kia smiled cordially at the young woman seated across her desk. "What can I do for you?"
She hoped she was concealing her curiosity well. To her knowledge, the Galactica medic had never before set foot on board the Amalthea without being there to assist her superior, the redoubtable Major Cottle. Whatever had brought Layne Ishay here on her own, it was important, if her stiff posture and tightly-laced fingers were any indication. Kia did her best to radiate calm reassurance and waited.
"Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Holtz." Nervous or not, she did manage a smile. "It's about the Major."
"Is something wrong?" Jack, what have you done?
"No -- that is, not exactly." Ishay swallowed. "You see ... the thing is ..."
Kia held up a hand to interrupt the stammer. "Ishay, if you've come to me for my help, I'm sure I'll be more than happy to give it, but first you have to tell me what the problem is." Her smile became encouraging. She was more than willing to cut the young medic any amount of slack, if only because she, like most of the battlestar's medical staff, demonstrated a fierce devotion to her irascible boss.
Ishay took a deep breath and appeared to draw courage from it. "It has become fairly obvious to those of us who work with him that you and Doc are ... that you've become--" She floundered again.
Fascinated by the turn in the conversation, Kia blurted out the first completer that came to mind. "Frak-buddies?"
An intense pink flooded the medic's face. "The word I was about to choose," she said weakly, "was 'intimate'."
Oh, sweetie. Olive drab is definitely not your color, especially when you're blushing. She couldn't stifle a huge grin. "Corporal, are you planning to interrogate me about my intentions toward Major Cottle?"
You had to give Ishay credit; she rallied well. "No, ma'am," she murmured. "I can't imagine you having any intentions to which the Major would object ... and if by some chance you did, he'd be the first to tell you."
"True enough." Kia sat back in her chair and folded her hands. "So what's this about?"
Ishay swallowed again. She apparently had not reached her comfort level even yet. "We -- the other medics and I -- have also noticed that Doc comes back from his visits with you considerably more ..." Another pause. Kia restrained herself from finishing this sentence as well. "... relaxed."
I'll bet he does. Though she did her best to stop it, Kia felt a tiny, smug smirk sneak into her expression. Oddly enough, the young woman seemed reassured by that smirk, at least enough to forge ahead with her explanation.
"He's the fleet's most experienced physician ... the best source of medical expertise humanity has left. The demands being placed on him are enormous, relentless, and nobody seems to care how much strain he's under." Ishay's jaw tightened abruptly.
Kia blinked at the sudden flash of resentment, but she understood it. "And of course he's too stubborn to call a halt when he feels he's needed."
"Exactly." A sigh of relief escaped Ishay at the understanding. "Just like most doctors, he can browbeat others about their bad health habits all day long, but when it comes to taking care of himself--" She lifted her hands in a gesture of despair. "He's on duty or on call all day, every day. What with the patients, consults, projects, meetings, training and Gods know what else, he rides himself so close to the edge that he'll ruin his health. We see the signs in sickbay; he starts smoking more, refusing to sleep or eat as he should, and instead of being normally grumpy, he gets moody. And tense. He needs ... outlets, for all the stress."
A clear picture showed at last. Kia tilted her head thoughtfully. "So you're asking me to be an outlet?"
The pink returned in a sudden sweep. "Yes," Ishay mumbled. "He'd never ask on his own behalf, but we were thinking that maybe whoever was on duty with him could contact you when things were starting to get bad, and we could come up with some excuse for him to visit Amalthea ..." Her voice trailed off, and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.
Kia sucked her lips between her teeth. Whatever you do, woman, for Gods' sakes do not laugh. You poor girl, what lottery did you lose to draw this duty?
Ishay apparently mistook the meaning of her expression. Desperation edged her voice as she continued. "I know we're asking a lot of you, ma'am, but the situation is serious. Four days ago, he apparently chose to work off some testosterone in a boxing match ... with the Commander." She shook her head.
"Sixty-one he may be, but even Galactica's Marines think carefully before stepping into the ring with Commander Adama. I had to stitch a cut on the Major's face and run an EKG to make sure his heart was undamaged, plus doing chest rads to check on the Commander's wounds. He was shot only weeks ago; I could have throttled them both!" The medic's voice crackled with remembered fury before she recalled her audience and regained a measure of control. "Suffice to say I don't wish to repeat the experience."
Eyes widening as she filled in the picture painted by Ishay's direct words, Kia finally released the breath she'd held. "Well ... well then. For the sake of the fleet, and the sake of my--" frak-buddy "--friend, I will of course do everything I can to help." Boxing?! You and I are going to have words over this, Jack ...
A brilliant, relieved smile graced Ishay's face. "Thank you so much, Ms. Holtz."
"Oh, honey." Part of the laugh she'd been stifling escaped in Kia's chuckle. "I think by now you should be able to call me Kia, don't you? We've passed the need for formalities, it seems." She leaned her elbow on her desk and rested her cheek against her folded fingers. "I'll make sure my people know that any call from Galactica's sickbay should be put through to me no matter the time."
With another murmur of gratitude, Ishay made her exit.
Kia waited until some seconds after the hatch was fully closed before laying her head down on her desk and laughing long and hard. Even after her aching stomach forced her to stop, little snickers of amazed amusement kept leaking out as she replayed one of the most surreal conversations she'd ever had. A reserved and proper young woman like Layne Ishay, effectively turning procurer for the sake of her beloved grouch of a boss ...
... now that was loyalty.
Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 1121
"Corporal Ishay. This is an unexpected pleasure." Kia smiled cordially at the young woman seated across her desk. "What can I do for you?"
She hoped she was concealing her curiosity well. To her knowledge, the Galactica medic had never before set foot on board the Amalthea without being there to assist her superior, the redoubtable Major Cottle. Whatever had brought Layne Ishay here on her own, it was important, if her stiff posture and tightly-laced fingers were any indication. Kia did her best to radiate calm reassurance and waited.
"Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Holtz." Nervous or not, she did manage a smile. "It's about the Major."
"Is something wrong?" Jack, what have you done?
"No -- that is, not exactly." Ishay swallowed. "You see ... the thing is ..."
Kia held up a hand to interrupt the stammer. "Ishay, if you've come to me for my help, I'm sure I'll be more than happy to give it, but first you have to tell me what the problem is." Her smile became encouraging. She was more than willing to cut the young medic any amount of slack, if only because she, like most of the battlestar's medical staff, demonstrated a fierce devotion to her irascible boss.
Ishay took a deep breath and appeared to draw courage from it. "It has become fairly obvious to those of us who work with him that you and Doc are ... that you've become--" She floundered again.
Fascinated by the turn in the conversation, Kia blurted out the first completer that came to mind. "Frak-buddies?"
An intense pink flooded the medic's face. "The word I was about to choose," she said weakly, "was 'intimate'."
Oh, sweetie. Olive drab is definitely not your color, especially when you're blushing. She couldn't stifle a huge grin. "Corporal, are you planning to interrogate me about my intentions toward Major Cottle?"
You had to give Ishay credit; she rallied well. "No, ma'am," she murmured. "I can't imagine you having any intentions to which the Major would object ... and if by some chance you did, he'd be the first to tell you."
"True enough." Kia sat back in her chair and folded her hands. "So what's this about?"
Ishay swallowed again. She apparently had not reached her comfort level even yet. "We -- the other medics and I -- have also noticed that Doc comes back from his visits with you considerably more ..." Another pause. Kia restrained herself from finishing this sentence as well. "... relaxed."
I'll bet he does. Though she did her best to stop it, Kia felt a tiny, smug smirk sneak into her expression. Oddly enough, the young woman seemed reassured by that smirk, at least enough to forge ahead with her explanation.
"He's the fleet's most experienced physician ... the best source of medical expertise humanity has left. The demands being placed on him are enormous, relentless, and nobody seems to care how much strain he's under." Ishay's jaw tightened abruptly.
Kia blinked at the sudden flash of resentment, but she understood it. "And of course he's too stubborn to call a halt when he feels he's needed."
"Exactly." A sigh of relief escaped Ishay at the understanding. "Just like most doctors, he can browbeat others about their bad health habits all day long, but when it comes to taking care of himself--" She lifted her hands in a gesture of despair. "He's on duty or on call all day, every day. What with the patients, consults, projects, meetings, training and Gods know what else, he rides himself so close to the edge that he'll ruin his health. We see the signs in sickbay; he starts smoking more, refusing to sleep or eat as he should, and instead of being normally grumpy, he gets moody. And tense. He needs ... outlets, for all the stress."
A clear picture showed at last. Kia tilted her head thoughtfully. "So you're asking me to be an outlet?"
The pink returned in a sudden sweep. "Yes," Ishay mumbled. "He'd never ask on his own behalf, but we were thinking that maybe whoever was on duty with him could contact you when things were starting to get bad, and we could come up with some excuse for him to visit Amalthea ..." Her voice trailed off, and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.
Kia sucked her lips between her teeth. Whatever you do, woman, for Gods' sakes do not laugh. You poor girl, what lottery did you lose to draw this duty?
Ishay apparently mistook the meaning of her expression. Desperation edged her voice as she continued. "I know we're asking a lot of you, ma'am, but the situation is serious. Four days ago, he apparently chose to work off some testosterone in a boxing match ... with the Commander." She shook her head.
"Sixty-one he may be, but even Galactica's Marines think carefully before stepping into the ring with Commander Adama. I had to stitch a cut on the Major's face and run an EKG to make sure his heart was undamaged, plus doing chest rads to check on the Commander's wounds. He was shot only weeks ago; I could have throttled them both!" The medic's voice crackled with remembered fury before she recalled her audience and regained a measure of control. "Suffice to say I don't wish to repeat the experience."
Eyes widening as she filled in the picture painted by Ishay's direct words, Kia finally released the breath she'd held. "Well ... well then. For the sake of the fleet, and the sake of my--" frak-buddy "--friend, I will of course do everything I can to help." Boxing?! You and I are going to have words over this, Jack ...
A brilliant, relieved smile graced Ishay's face. "Thank you so much, Ms. Holtz."
"Oh, honey." Part of the laugh she'd been stifling escaped in Kia's chuckle. "I think by now you should be able to call me Kia, don't you? We've passed the need for formalities, it seems." She leaned her elbow on her desk and rested her cheek against her folded fingers. "I'll make sure my people know that any call from Galactica's sickbay should be put through to me no matter the time."
With another murmur of gratitude, Ishay made her exit.
Kia waited until some seconds after the hatch was fully closed before laying her head down on her desk and laughing long and hard. Even after her aching stomach forced her to stop, little snickers of amazed amusement kept leaking out as she replayed one of the most surreal conversations she'd ever had. A reserved and proper young woman like Layne Ishay, effectively turning procurer for the sake of her beloved grouch of a boss ...
... now that was loyalty.
Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 1121