A Routine Physical

Posted on Mon Jul 6th, 2026 @ 3:00am by Captain Samuel Woolheater & Commander Sthilg

Mission: Interlude
Location: Sickbay - Deck 12
Timeline: Yesterday
1176 words - 2.4 OF Standard Post Measure

[ON:]

Sickbay was quieter than Samuel Woolheater expected.

No battlefield rush. No shouted triage orders. No smoke. No blood on the deckplates. Just the low ambient hum of medical systems and the faint sterile scent that every shipboard sickbay in the fleet somehow shared. Sam stepped through the doors wearing loose gray sweats, old boots, and one of his worn Marine Corps PT shirts stretched across broad shoulders and chest. The shirt itself looked soft from overuse, the faded black fabric carrying the ghost of some long-dead unit insignia across the front.

Off-duty clothes helped. At least a little. The Marine slowed slightly as his eyes settled on the towering Gorn deeper inside Sickbay.

Commander Sthilg.

Even after years in Starfleet, some old mammalian survival instinct still reacted first to the size. Then the teeth. Then the claws. Sam hated that instinct in himself. It was unconscious and annoying. But it was there anyway.

Samuel's t-shirt read, "My other shuttle's an Akira-class starship"

"Hey Doctor Sthilg. I figured I dodged your reminders to get my PA done. And today I had some free time. I hope now is good for you too sir?"

His Georgia drawl rolled easily enough through the room, though Sthilg’s sharper senses would probably catch what sat underneath it: elevated stress, lingering adrenaline residue, burned skin, fatigue, and the faint smell of old phaser discharge still clinging stubbornly to him.

" It'sss alwaysss a good time." The gorn replied in his grandfatherly tone as he looked up from the lab desk he had been working on taking in the marine and the quite potent smell. Undetectable to humans, his more advanced gorn sense could smell coctaile he smled off. Noting to ask him later the gorn stood up. " My office ssshould be free. If you'll follow me. "

Sam followed the Gorn medical officer toward the office, rubbing once at the back of his neck as he walked.

“Appreciate it, Doc.”

Once inside, he eased carefully into the chair across from the desk and exhaled quietly through his nose. “Truth is, I’m probably overdue for this.” Sam sat back in the chair and almost put his feet up. Almost. But he refrained.

" You're not the only one." Sthilg admitted with a cheeky grin. " Maybe my charming persssonality is putting people off. Now, any injuries or illnessssesss occurred sssince your last physssical?"

Sam snorted softly. “Nah. Doc, if your personality was any more charming there'd be a tea service in the lobby.” The grin lingered for a second before he rubbed the left side of his chest once and exhaled quietly. “Nothin’ major. Couple a burns. Got bounced around some. Missed a little sleep. Standard issue Circinus hospitality package.” He hooked a thumb under the collar of the faded PT shirt. “I've got a bruise that changes color. Still smarts though. Wanna see?”

" Let'sss take a look. " Sssthilg replied, drawing a regenerator and a scanner from his medicle kit.

"Yup." Sam hooked the hem of the PT shirt with one hand and pulled it up far enough to expose the left side of his ribs and lower chest.

The bruise was impressive. Deep purples had faded into ugly greens and yellowing edges, sprawling across his side like somebody had tried to paint a nebula directly onto his skin. A half-healed phaser burn sat higher up near the ribs, pink around the edges where the skin had regenerated unevenly.

“See?” Sam glanced down at it. “Pretty sure yesterday it was blue.” A quiet huff of amusement escaped him as he leaned back enough for Sthilg to work. “Whatever hit me had opinions.”

" What hit you exactly? " the gorn enquired as he began his work. his white eyes noted the phaser burn.

Sam squinted down at the bruise for a moment, as if the answer might be written somewhere in the middle of it. "Honestly, Doc? I got no earthly idea." A quiet breath of air escaped him. "Whatever it was seemed real motivated at the time."

He let the shirt hang open while Sthilg worked.

"Didn't even register when it happened. We had a whole lot of folks trying to rearrange our day." Sam scratched once at the side of his jaw. "I do know my chest aches now, though." He pointed vaguely toward the bruise. "You think its nothing? I mean, you can fix me up?" He added, " 'cause its too early for Halloween, doc."

" I've been healing bruisssesss sssince before you were born young men. Jussst ssstay ssstill and let me work." He replied.

When the Gorn doctor had finished, Sam let the shirt fall back into place and glanced around the office. "You know, I always imagined doctors loved bruises." He nodded toward his ribs. "Proof we're still using the equipment." A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. "If Marines stopped showing up dented, I think you'd start worrying."

" I would. I'd think you've ssstarted trying to patch yourssself up." Sthilg replied jokily.

Sam barked out a laugh. "Now that's just hurtful. Is it that obvious? And here I thought I knew how to put on a bandage." The Marine settled a little deeper into the chair and rubbed at the side of his ribs where the ache had finally begun to fade. "Besides, patching myself up usually involves profanity, duct tape, and poor decision making. Starfleet frowns on at least two of those." His grin lingered for a moment before softening. Truth was, he hadn't exactly been making regular visits to Sickbay. There was always another duty shift. Another report. Another drill. Another problem that seemed more important than whatever was going on with him.

Sam glanced toward the Gorn. "Appreciate you takin' a look, Doc." The words were casual but sincere. "I know I'm not exactly your favorite patient." A pause. "Or am I? Actually, I might be your favorite patient." A finger pointed toward himself. "I'm just not your most frequent."

" i love all my patientsss equally. "replied the gorn his reptilian face turning into a grin. " there we go how doesss that feel?" he added as he finished.

"Well...let me see now." Sam rolled his left shoulder once, then pressed experimentally against the spot where the bruise had been protesting every breath since Circinus. His eyebrows climbed. "Well..." He prodded it again, this time a little harder. "I'll be damned." A grin spread across his face as he looked back toward the towering Gorn. "It doesn't hurt."

He stood, tugging the hem of his faded PT shirt back into place. "I know medicine's supposed to work, Doc, but I admit I keep being pleasantly surprised." Woolheater offered a small nod that carried more sincerity than ceremony. "Thank you. I'll try not to wait so long before the next physical."

A beat.

He teased the older Chief of Medicine with a quip. "...No promises."



[OFF:]

--
​Captain Samuel Woolheater, SFMC
Executive Officer, Marine Detachment
Sniper / Infantry Officer
Precision Fires & Recon Division
62nd Company "Spartans"
=/\= USS Elysium NCC-89000 =/\=

&

Commander Sthilg
Chief Medical Officer
=/\= USS Elysium NCC-89000 =/\=