Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
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Doctor Migleemo, I Presume
“Oooo, I can’t believe this is really happening!” Tendi chirped eagerly. “I’ve been waiting my whole career for this!”
“Geeze, calm down, T,” Mariner said riding in a turbolift with her, Boimler and Rutherford. “Man, and I thought you were hyped up during our visit to the Vancouver.”
“But this is so exciting!” Tendi beamed practically hopping up and down. “This is my first duty assignment serving on the Bridge! It’s gonna be amazing!”
“It’s gonna be dull,” Mariner rolled her eyes. “We’re acting as relief officers for the secondary Bridge crew. We’ll be the backups of the backups!”
“Who cares? It’s still Bridge duty,” Boimler pointed out. “That automatically makes it cool.”
“Yeah,” Rutherford smiled. “Plus, we’ll be monitoring readings from the secondary Engineering, Science and Environmental stations. We’ll be sorting, analyzing and cataloging data in real time!”
“Thrilling,” Mariner drawled rolling her eyes. “I can hardly contain myself.”
“Neither can I!” Tendi smiled not noticing Mariner’s sarcasm. “This is going to be great!”
“Yeah, right,” Mariner sighed. “Standing for six hours straight doing nothing but staring at screens. What fun.”
“Come on, don’t be such a downer,” Boimler scolded. “Being on the Bridge is great. We’ll be among the first to know anything that happens to the ship. A starship bridge is the place to be. It’s where the action is.”
“Please. The Bridge is so overrated,” Mariner waved. “Everyone knows all the real starship action happens down on the lower decks.”
“Well yes, but the Bridge is cool too,” Tendi smiled. “And we’ll all get to be on it! Yay!”
“Careful. You don’t want to act too excited,” Boimler warned. “Just stay calm and observe the senior officers to learn to how to act in a cool, professional manner.”
“I don’t believe this!” The turbolift doors parted to reveal Captain Freeman angrily pacing around the Bridge. “How can he do this to me? This is an outrage!”
“On the other hand,” Boimler blinked.
“Having problems, Captain?” Mariner smirked as the four ensigns exited the turbolift.
“Stow it, Mariner,” Freeman glared at her. “Don’t try pulling that ‘oh so innocent’ act with me. This is all your fault!”
“Whoa, what’s my fault?” Mariner held up her hands. “Is this about the pizza party I threw in the aft torpedo room last week? I swear I have absolutely no idea how those half dozen photon torpedoes got armed, launched and filled with cheese sticks…”
“No, but thanks for reminding me about that little incident,” Freeman groaned. “This is about you and the rest of the crew acting like lunatics during the recent visit by an official Starfleet inspector.”
“You mean Commander Schenkkan?” Boimler asked as the ensigns took their stations. “The officer who abruptly left the ship kicking, screaming and bound in a straitjacket?”
“That’s the one,” Freeman confirmed. “An expected two-week starship inspection and crew evaluation ended up lasting less than twenty minutes and resulted in one of Starfleet’s top inspectors being sent to a psychiatric facility on Elba II!”
“Oops,” Tendi gulped. “Uh, sorry?”
“Hey, you can’t blame us for that,” Mariner protested. “Most of us didn’t even know the commander was aboard. It’s not like we intentionally tried to drive a visiting bureaucrat mad. We just acted like we normally do.”
“I know,” Freeman glared. “That’s the scary part!”
“But what about the ship?” Rutherford asked worriedly. “Did the Cerritos get a bad rating?”
“No,” Freeman picked up padd. “Turns out Commander Schenkkan’s last act was to certify the Cerritos. Well, actually she declared it certifiable…”
“Really? Yay!” Everyone else on the Bridge cheered.
“…and the only reason Commander Schenkkan did so was, and I quote,” Freeman read from the padd. “‘In order keep all those nuts from being transferred and spreading chaos to other ships.’”
“Oh. I see,” Boimler blushed.
“Wow,” Tendi blinked. “She really said that?”
“No, the Betazoid who read what remained of Commander Schenkkan’s mind said that,” Freeman coughed. “Commander Schenkkan herself was pretty much beyond capable of making coherent speech at that point. And said Betazoid also ended up being admitted to Elba II’s psychiatric facility afterward on his own request.”
“Really? Sweet!” Mariner grinned. “Two for the price of one! That’s gotta be some kind of record for us.”
“Needless to say, the incident with Commander Schenkkan has drawn the concern of Starfleet Command,” Freeman went on. “Which is why Admiral Vassery ordered a new officer to report and serve aboard the Cerritos, effective immediately and without consulting me first.”
“Oh, now I get it,” Mariner nodded in realization. “The admiral’s fostered you with some superfluous, unrequested officer you didn’t want in the first place. Huh, guess that’s never happened to you before.”
“Wanna bet?” Freeman gave her an icy look.
“So, who’s the officer?” Boimler asked. “Some strict disciplinarian or by-the-book efficiency expert?”
“Not exactly,” Freeman sighed as the doors to the adjoining conference room opened. “Everyone, please welcome our new Ship’s Counselor: Dr. Migleemo.”
“Hello!” Migleemo smiled and gave a friendly wave. “It’s so nice to be joining a veritable melting pot of piquant personalities. I’m looking forward to working with and adding flavor to such an appetizing, full-course crew.”
“Hi there!” Tendi greeted. “Welcome aboard!”
“Nice to meet you,” Rutherford smiled.
“Nice to meet you two too,” Migleemo shook their hands. “Serving up such a hors d'oeuvres plate of pleasant salutations indicates we will all go together like oil and vinegar.”
“Ugh, what’s with all the food metaphors?” Mariner made a face. “The last thing I want to hear is anything that relates to my recent attempts at cooking.”
“Don’t remind me,” Boimler shuddered.
“Is something bothering you, Bradward?” Migleemo noticed Boimler’s momentary discomfort. “You seem to be the Romulan osol twist amongst this group of jumja sticks. Are you still suffering aftertastes from your infamous psychological Academy entrance evaluation?”
“No!” Boimler said quickly. “Wait, how do you know about that? And my first name?”
“Oh, I devoured the entire crew’s personnel records, medical histories and past psychiatric profiles before coming aboard,” Migleemo waved. “Such a tossed salad of mental peculiarities. Perhaps I should schedule time to talk and delve further into your gnawing issues concerning bunny rabbits and purple daffodils…”
“WHAT?!” Boimler yelped. “NO!”
“Okay, this is a joke, right?” Mariner asked Freeman as Migleemo proceeded to agitate Boimler and interact with the rest of the Bridge crew. “Admiral Vassery fobbed this guy onto us as some kind of prank?”
“No, but somebody is definitely having a laugh at our expense,” Freeman sighed rubbing her forehead. “I maybe not like it either, but the orders stand. And it wouldn’t hurt having a counselor aboard to help ride herd on the rest of you cracked nuts.”
“Don’t you start spouting food metaphors too,” Mariner snapped gesturing at Migleemo. “Do you really think this guy is gonna be a positive asset to the ship? He’s only been aboard two minutes and I can already tell he’s a complete quack!”
“Watch it, Mariner!” Freeman snapped. “Dr. Migleemo’s manner may seem a bit…unorthodox, but he is a trained Starfleet professional and will help keep up my ship’s psychological wellness.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll soon have those peckish nightmares of yours under control,” Migleemo smiled commenting at the stunned Napean lieutenant manning the Tactical station. “Yes, you can rest assured knowing that I alone am now responsible for maintaining the mental health of the entire crew of the Cerritos!”
“On second thought,” Freeman blinked.
“Gee, you’re looking a little mentally shaken there, Cap,” Mariner smirked. “Maybe you should see the ship’s counselor about it.”
“Watch it, Mariner,” Freeman hissed. “Maybe you’d like to be assigned handling waste extraction for the next six months.”
“Maybe you should get a sense of humor!” Mariner shot back.
“Whoa! Is there a problem here, Beckett?” Migleemo came over and addressed Mariner. “Lower the heat and stop letting your pressure-cooked temper boil over.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault Captain Sensitive here can’t take a joke,” Mariner defended. “And quit it with the food metaphors!”
“Now Beckett, that’s not a healthy way to deal with your emotions,” Migleemo advised. “Let’s roll them out and try to knead them into a more palatable form. Perhaps you’d like to talk about any lingering mother issues…”
“NO!” Mariner blanched shouting quickly. “I mean, what mother issues? I don’t have mother issues!”
“Oh really?” Freeman folded her arms. “Sounds like you certainly have some deep, unresolved mother issues to me. I think you should talk about them. Lay them all out in the open.”
“Why Captain,” Migleemo looked at Freeman in shock. “That would be a violation of Ensign Mariner’s right to mental privacy. You can’t make her dish out any potential, personal spoonfuls of her long-stewing emotions.”
“But counselor, she’s hiding something!” Freeman protested.
“Now, Captain. There’s no need for you to point out the obvious,” Migleemo lectured. “Using such repetitive, vocal dialogue clichés grows quite stale after a while.”
“Look who’s talking,” Freeman muttered.
“Though I am sensing some unresolved tension simmering between you two,” Migleemo indicated Freeman and Mariner.
“No, ya think?” Mariner gave him a look.
“We should really discuss these matters later under the lid of doctor-patient confidentiality,” Migleemo went on. “I’ll schedule both of you for some Captain-Ensign interaction therapy…”
“WHAT?! NO!” Freeman and Mariner yelped.
“Wow. Mariner and Captain Freeman are sure going at it,” Rutherford blinked as the rest of the Bridge crew watched the very public exchange. “They sure are alike in a lot of ways. Ever notice that?”
“Well, at least they manage to agree on something,” Tendi pointed out as Freeman and Mariner proceeded to scream at Migleemo. “Though I don’t think Dr. Migleemo is capable of performing that anatomically improbable maneuver on himself.”
“I think Mariner is crazy for arguing with Captain Freeman and Dr. Migleemo like this,” Boimler groaned. “She’s going to be thrown in the brig! Not that it’s ever bothered her before…”
“Well, things will certainly be more interesting having a ship’s counselor aboard the Cerritos,” Rutherford commented. “I bet we’ll learn a lot about him.”
“Oooo, maybe we should throw him a ‘Welcome Aboard’ party,” Tendi suggested. “So he doesn’t feel like an outcast from the rest of the crew.”
“Now, ladies. This kind of sour attitude can really spoil any future overbroiled interactions,” Migleemo gulped nervously. “Perhaps you’d like to try rebaking your relationship by making a tray of calm, soothing chochoyotes…”
“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!” Freeman and Mariner screamed.
“Something tells me that’s not going to be a problem,” Boimler sighed as Migleemo continued to spout random cooking metaphors. “Oh yeah, this guy’s gonna fit right in on this ship!”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
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Doctor Migleemo, I Presume
“Oooo, I can’t believe this is really happening!” Tendi chirped eagerly. “I’ve been waiting my whole career for this!”
“Geeze, calm down, T,” Mariner said riding in a turbolift with her, Boimler and Rutherford. “Man, and I thought you were hyped up during our visit to the Vancouver.”
“But this is so exciting!” Tendi beamed practically hopping up and down. “This is my first duty assignment serving on the Bridge! It’s gonna be amazing!”
“It’s gonna be dull,” Mariner rolled her eyes. “We’re acting as relief officers for the secondary Bridge crew. We’ll be the backups of the backups!”
“Who cares? It’s still Bridge duty,” Boimler pointed out. “That automatically makes it cool.”
“Yeah,” Rutherford smiled. “Plus, we’ll be monitoring readings from the secondary Engineering, Science and Environmental stations. We’ll be sorting, analyzing and cataloging data in real time!”
“Thrilling,” Mariner drawled rolling her eyes. “I can hardly contain myself.”
“Neither can I!” Tendi smiled not noticing Mariner’s sarcasm. “This is going to be great!”
“Yeah, right,” Mariner sighed. “Standing for six hours straight doing nothing but staring at screens. What fun.”
“Come on, don’t be such a downer,” Boimler scolded. “Being on the Bridge is great. We’ll be among the first to know anything that happens to the ship. A starship bridge is the place to be. It’s where the action is.”
“Please. The Bridge is so overrated,” Mariner waved. “Everyone knows all the real starship action happens down on the lower decks.”
“Well yes, but the Bridge is cool too,” Tendi smiled. “And we’ll all get to be on it! Yay!”
“Careful. You don’t want to act too excited,” Boimler warned. “Just stay calm and observe the senior officers to learn to how to act in a cool, professional manner.”
“I don’t believe this!” The turbolift doors parted to reveal Captain Freeman angrily pacing around the Bridge. “How can he do this to me? This is an outrage!”
“On the other hand,” Boimler blinked.
“Having problems, Captain?” Mariner smirked as the four ensigns exited the turbolift.
“Stow it, Mariner,” Freeman glared at her. “Don’t try pulling that ‘oh so innocent’ act with me. This is all your fault!”
“Whoa, what’s my fault?” Mariner held up her hands. “Is this about the pizza party I threw in the aft torpedo room last week? I swear I have absolutely no idea how those half dozen photon torpedoes got armed, launched and filled with cheese sticks…”
“No, but thanks for reminding me about that little incident,” Freeman groaned. “This is about you and the rest of the crew acting like lunatics during the recent visit by an official Starfleet inspector.”
“You mean Commander Schenkkan?” Boimler asked as the ensigns took their stations. “The officer who abruptly left the ship kicking, screaming and bound in a straitjacket?”
“That’s the one,” Freeman confirmed. “An expected two-week starship inspection and crew evaluation ended up lasting less than twenty minutes and resulted in one of Starfleet’s top inspectors being sent to a psychiatric facility on Elba II!”
“Oops,” Tendi gulped. “Uh, sorry?”
“Hey, you can’t blame us for that,” Mariner protested. “Most of us didn’t even know the commander was aboard. It’s not like we intentionally tried to drive a visiting bureaucrat mad. We just acted like we normally do.”
“I know,” Freeman glared. “That’s the scary part!”
“But what about the ship?” Rutherford asked worriedly. “Did the Cerritos get a bad rating?”
“No,” Freeman picked up padd. “Turns out Commander Schenkkan’s last act was to certify the Cerritos. Well, actually she declared it certifiable…”
“Really? Yay!” Everyone else on the Bridge cheered.
“…and the only reason Commander Schenkkan did so was, and I quote,” Freeman read from the padd. “‘In order keep all those nuts from being transferred and spreading chaos to other ships.’”
“Oh. I see,” Boimler blushed.
“Wow,” Tendi blinked. “She really said that?”
“No, the Betazoid who read what remained of Commander Schenkkan’s mind said that,” Freeman coughed. “Commander Schenkkan herself was pretty much beyond capable of making coherent speech at that point. And said Betazoid also ended up being admitted to Elba II’s psychiatric facility afterward on his own request.”
“Really? Sweet!” Mariner grinned. “Two for the price of one! That’s gotta be some kind of record for us.”
“Needless to say, the incident with Commander Schenkkan has drawn the concern of Starfleet Command,” Freeman went on. “Which is why Admiral Vassery ordered a new officer to report and serve aboard the Cerritos, effective immediately and without consulting me first.”
“Oh, now I get it,” Mariner nodded in realization. “The admiral’s fostered you with some superfluous, unrequested officer you didn’t want in the first place. Huh, guess that’s never happened to you before.”
“Wanna bet?” Freeman gave her an icy look.
“So, who’s the officer?” Boimler asked. “Some strict disciplinarian or by-the-book efficiency expert?”
“Not exactly,” Freeman sighed as the doors to the adjoining conference room opened. “Everyone, please welcome our new Ship’s Counselor: Dr. Migleemo.”
“Hello!” Migleemo smiled and gave a friendly wave. “It’s so nice to be joining a veritable melting pot of piquant personalities. I’m looking forward to working with and adding flavor to such an appetizing, full-course crew.”
“Hi there!” Tendi greeted. “Welcome aboard!”
“Nice to meet you,” Rutherford smiled.
“Nice to meet you two too,” Migleemo shook their hands. “Serving up such a hors d'oeuvres plate of pleasant salutations indicates we will all go together like oil and vinegar.”
“Ugh, what’s with all the food metaphors?” Mariner made a face. “The last thing I want to hear is anything that relates to my recent attempts at cooking.”
“Don’t remind me,” Boimler shuddered.
“Is something bothering you, Bradward?” Migleemo noticed Boimler’s momentary discomfort. “You seem to be the Romulan osol twist amongst this group of jumja sticks. Are you still suffering aftertastes from your infamous psychological Academy entrance evaluation?”
“No!” Boimler said quickly. “Wait, how do you know about that? And my first name?”
“Oh, I devoured the entire crew’s personnel records, medical histories and past psychiatric profiles before coming aboard,” Migleemo waved. “Such a tossed salad of mental peculiarities. Perhaps I should schedule time to talk and delve further into your gnawing issues concerning bunny rabbits and purple daffodils…”
“WHAT?!” Boimler yelped. “NO!”
“Okay, this is a joke, right?” Mariner asked Freeman as Migleemo proceeded to agitate Boimler and interact with the rest of the Bridge crew. “Admiral Vassery fobbed this guy onto us as some kind of prank?”
“No, but somebody is definitely having a laugh at our expense,” Freeman sighed rubbing her forehead. “I maybe not like it either, but the orders stand. And it wouldn’t hurt having a counselor aboard to help ride herd on the rest of you cracked nuts.”
“Don’t you start spouting food metaphors too,” Mariner snapped gesturing at Migleemo. “Do you really think this guy is gonna be a positive asset to the ship? He’s only been aboard two minutes and I can already tell he’s a complete quack!”
“Watch it, Mariner!” Freeman snapped. “Dr. Migleemo’s manner may seem a bit…unorthodox, but he is a trained Starfleet professional and will help keep up my ship’s psychological wellness.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll soon have those peckish nightmares of yours under control,” Migleemo smiled commenting at the stunned Napean lieutenant manning the Tactical station. “Yes, you can rest assured knowing that I alone am now responsible for maintaining the mental health of the entire crew of the Cerritos!”
“On second thought,” Freeman blinked.
“Gee, you’re looking a little mentally shaken there, Cap,” Mariner smirked. “Maybe you should see the ship’s counselor about it.”
“Watch it, Mariner,” Freeman hissed. “Maybe you’d like to be assigned handling waste extraction for the next six months.”
“Maybe you should get a sense of humor!” Mariner shot back.
“Whoa! Is there a problem here, Beckett?” Migleemo came over and addressed Mariner. “Lower the heat and stop letting your pressure-cooked temper boil over.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault Captain Sensitive here can’t take a joke,” Mariner defended. “And quit it with the food metaphors!”
“Now Beckett, that’s not a healthy way to deal with your emotions,” Migleemo advised. “Let’s roll them out and try to knead them into a more palatable form. Perhaps you’d like to talk about any lingering mother issues…”
“NO!” Mariner blanched shouting quickly. “I mean, what mother issues? I don’t have mother issues!”
“Oh really?” Freeman folded her arms. “Sounds like you certainly have some deep, unresolved mother issues to me. I think you should talk about them. Lay them all out in the open.”
“Why Captain,” Migleemo looked at Freeman in shock. “That would be a violation of Ensign Mariner’s right to mental privacy. You can’t make her dish out any potential, personal spoonfuls of her long-stewing emotions.”
“But counselor, she’s hiding something!” Freeman protested.
“Now, Captain. There’s no need for you to point out the obvious,” Migleemo lectured. “Using such repetitive, vocal dialogue clichés grows quite stale after a while.”
“Look who’s talking,” Freeman muttered.
“Though I am sensing some unresolved tension simmering between you two,” Migleemo indicated Freeman and Mariner.
“No, ya think?” Mariner gave him a look.
“We should really discuss these matters later under the lid of doctor-patient confidentiality,” Migleemo went on. “I’ll schedule both of you for some Captain-Ensign interaction therapy…”
“WHAT?! NO!” Freeman and Mariner yelped.
“Wow. Mariner and Captain Freeman are sure going at it,” Rutherford blinked as the rest of the Bridge crew watched the very public exchange. “They sure are alike in a lot of ways. Ever notice that?”
“Well, at least they manage to agree on something,” Tendi pointed out as Freeman and Mariner proceeded to scream at Migleemo. “Though I don’t think Dr. Migleemo is capable of performing that anatomically improbable maneuver on himself.”
“I think Mariner is crazy for arguing with Captain Freeman and Dr. Migleemo like this,” Boimler groaned. “She’s going to be thrown in the brig! Not that it’s ever bothered her before…”
“Well, things will certainly be more interesting having a ship’s counselor aboard the Cerritos,” Rutherford commented. “I bet we’ll learn a lot about him.”
“Oooo, maybe we should throw him a ‘Welcome Aboard’ party,” Tendi suggested. “So he doesn’t feel like an outcast from the rest of the crew.”
“Now, ladies. This kind of sour attitude can really spoil any future overbroiled interactions,” Migleemo gulped nervously. “Perhaps you’d like to try rebaking your relationship by making a tray of calm, soothing chochoyotes…”
“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!” Freeman and Mariner screamed.
“Something tells me that’s not going to be a problem,” Boimler sighed as Migleemo continued to spout random cooking metaphors. “Oh yeah, this guy’s gonna fit right in on this ship!”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
