The Medical Journal of Dr. Chakwas, Ship's Doctor

Dr. Chakwas sat at her desk in the medical bay, hard at work. Even when there were no patients to be seen or reports to be filed, there seemed always to be necessary occupations that kept her a busy woman.

Since Chakwas had risen (early, as usual) and eaten a small breakfast in the neighboring mess, she had been working diligently.

At present, her attention was turned to an article in a leading medical journal, claiming that the leading drug for strengthening bone density, Osserminex, had a small potential of linkage to increased heart attack risk. As she had prescribed the drug to Joker, and administered it to him biweekly, she carefully read the 30 page study and the information on the test cases, and passed it along to him, along with an assurance that the link seemed tenuous at best.

 “It isn’t as though there’s a comparable treatment on the market,” she scoffed to herself. “What do they want them to do?”

She shook her head. She felt it was rather unscrupulous of the researchers to make such a study and then publish such vague results. That was a medication helping a lot of people- not just the rare Vrolik’s sufferers. If it were taken off the market, the consequences would be truly unfortunate.

But she was fairly sure her message would clear up any doubts Joker might have, especially since he likely wouldn’t have any. Jeff Moreau would not be the type of man to chew his nails over a thirty page medical study, much less make it through page one.

Chakwas checked the phials and syringes each week, making sure they would be prepared for his treatments and therapy. It was a great added duty to her job as chief medical officer, but not an unwelcome one.

She noticed a new message from Miranda Lawson. It was quite new, sent just a couple of minutes earlier. It asked her to come to the executive officer’s office for a “chat” She was surprised by the missive, but knew better than to keep Lawson waiting.

She made the very short trip across the way to Miranda’s office, then rapped upon the door sharply twice.

Dr. Chakwas sat hunched on the edge of one of the medbay cots and rubbed the back of her neck. From cabinets to cots, from floor to ceiling, and hither, thither, and yon, her sick bay was entirely battle ready.

A glance at the time display informed her that it was very late, but there would be no sleep that night. She never slept on the eve of battle, not that she would want to if she could. At her age, staying up so late was getting harder and harder to do, but the weariness about her eyes and the creak in her spine were not going to keep her from her duty.

Remembering her accustomed decorum, Chakwas slid off the bed and walked over to her console. She typed out a message to Jacob, then, thinking better of it, deleted it. He would have more important things on his mind. She’d had to conduct far too many postmortem reports on soldiers whose last message had been a long declaration from a spouse or lover. There had never been a correlation drawn, but Chakwas had always wondered. Or maybe she was just a jaundiced old woman. 

Chakwas smiled and shook the thought from her mind. 

Jacob—-

Report to medical bay immediately for examination when your time’s your own.

—- Chakwas

She looked in amusement at her faux-serious missive. She thought he’d like that. 

She did need to take a look at his sprained leg, but the idea that she would already be thinking ahead of the mysterious potential conflict that could kill them all, he’d enjoy.

She only wished she really were.

janeshepard-:

drchakwas:

She leaned against the far wall, informalizing her posture, though her sense of propriety kept her from relaxing her stance like Shepard had. An unhappy grin found her lips but didn’t touch her eyes.

Shepard watched the older woman’s movements, her facial expression, the tear-glazed eyes. Part of the Spectre still wanted someone more capable to deal with emotional matters there with her, someone who could iron out the finer creases before Shepard moved in on the heart of the matter and (if it was a good day) shot it or (if it wasn’t) talked whoever needed help through it. She’d obviously have to do the groundwork herself this time, and while she didn’t really mind it since she liked Chakwas, she felt a bit like a fish out of water becaue this time, pressing on the importance of their success in the fight against the Reapers just wouldn’t cut it. This was personal.

“Far as I can tell”, she said slowly, “you were doing fine up until we got to Illium. Fine under the circumstances, anyway. I was” - Shepard searched rapidly for the right word, one that’d matter - “proud to see how well you all seemed to deal with what the Collectors did to you. We pulled the ship together faster than Miranda and I anticipated, because all of you handled it like any good soldier would. You’ve been a good soldier - an exemplary one - for as long as we’ve served together and I value that. You know I do. So whatever you need of me…” She loosened her light grip on the table, turning the palms of her hands toward the doctor in a gesture of offering.

Chakwas’ throat tightened at Shepard’s words. She knew how uncomfortable this situation was making the commander, and felt a twinge at once of guilt and of admiration.

“Shepard. Thank you. I- I’ve always given you my best. I never intend to give you any less, no matter my own… emotional state.”

The words felt alien on her tongue. When had her emotional state been a concern? She was a soldier. A military doctor, and a damn good one at that. 

“You’re right, Shepard, about Illium. But it was in the manner of something contained bubbling over, not a new phenomenon. Something made me follow Fi- that girl. Something made me…”

She sighed.

“Poor Jacob.”

She looked down to her feet.

” I don’t know what happened, commander. If I did, I’m sure I could find some way to treat it.”

(Source: )

janeshepard-:

drchakwas:

Chakwas looked away again. She knew the argument was less than accurate. She had crossed a professional boundary.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she whispered, finding, to her surprise, tears welling up in her eyes.

“There’s obviously more to this.” It wasn’t an accusation, merely an observation, and Shepard made sure to keep her voice even. “But I can’t help you, if that’s what you need, unless you help me first.”

“I suppose there is,” Chakwas mused. “But I can’t think why I can’t seem to make sense of it myself.”

She sighed and shifted her weight to her back leg slightly.

“”I do appreciate your trying to help me, commander.”

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Shepard.

“You may be the only one who can.”

She leaned against the far wall, informalizing her posture, though her sense of propriety kept her from relaxing her stance like Shepard had. An unhappy grin found her lips but didn’t touch her eyes.

(Source: )

janeshepard-:

drchakwas:

“No time like the present, yes?”

“Right.”

Shepard walked calmly to the door, moved through the almost inaudible gentle whirr of machinery and finally leaned against the table at the far end, hands lightly resting on the edge of it.

She’d noticed the masked tension, being very good at reading people but rather poor at deciphering emotional nuances. It was easy to tell that Chakwas was upset, but far more difficult to pick out what kind of upset. Shepard considered her options, thinking that if she’d encountered anything like this in the field she would’ve asked Kaidan, Liara, Kasumi or Thane to deal with it but none of them were there and she owed the doctor personal attention in this matter, even if just for the fact that they’d served together through two impossible missions.

“I’m not angry”, she said. “But if you could see yourself from my perspective I think you’d agree that you’ve been acting… out of character. Obviously something is still wrong.”

The AI core was cool and dark. Chakwas liked the still and calm of it, despite her general preference for some degree of brightness and activity. She appreciated Shepard’s forthrightness, and she knew that Shepard’s mistrust was tempered with a worry which went beyond the mission. 

Dr. Chakwas had been taught from an early age to face her problems straight-backed and with her head up. So, she faced Shepard, a million emotions blazing through her, her mind racing for the right words to say.

Chakwas breathed in the chilled air deeply. The first breath came in angry. The second came in sad. The third breath came in calm. 

“Commander, your concern is- I know it pertains to more than just the mission, and I appreciate that, but…”

She paused and glanced around the room, trying to say her piece right.

“As regards my duties, I am fully fit to serve. You don’t need to worry about the job I do on this starship, because I’ll continue to do it to the best of my ability.”

Chakwas halted for a moment, realizing an uncalled for heat had come into her tone. Not anger, but a certain fire, like she needed to prove to the both of them that she was capable. She met Shepard’s gaze again and spoke in a calmer tone.

“What happened with Operative Nellis was nothing. I sought only to comfort him. I-“ 

Chakwas looked away again. She knew the argument was less than accurate. She had crossed a professional boundary.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she whispered, finding, to her surprise, tears welling up in her eyes.

(Source: )

janeshepard-:

drchakwas:

Chakwas looked away from her work for a moment, looking over her shoulder at Shepard, who was peering intently at the doctor.

“Or you,” she finished. 

Shepard felt a tug on her lips - not because the subject of death was particularly humorous, but because it still seemed easier for people around her to picture a krogan dying than her. That was good. She didn’t need them worrying that she might not make it to the end.

“Tali is too damn stubborn to die”, she said, glancing over at the three engineers. “Besides, she knows I wouldn’t let her.”

There were a couple of short minutes of silence between them as Chakwas went on with her business and Shepard tried to listen to the tech talk. While making an effort to understand the tech she relied on on a day-to-day basis - her biotic amp, her ship, hardsuits, the Hammerhead - she was nowhere near good with it. Well, save for the amp. She was very particular with that, as any biotic should be.

“Can’t blame her for sneaking out on you though. I don’t think ‘sitting idly by’ is an expression quarians have ever needed to use.” She stepped back, giving Donnelly room to pass. She’d considered taking Tali down to the hold with her to watch the snipers compete, but perhaps that wasn’t the best idea if she wanted the girl ready for the field as soon as possible and she really wasn’t up for pushing Chakwas on any point at this particular time… but knew she had to. “She’s occupied enough to not run off for now, it seems. You got a minute? A.I. Core’s empty if you want to stay nearby.”

Chakwas gritted her teeth, a tension showing itself in her clenched jaw.

“Yes, commander. Of course.”

She stowed the filled shots in their drawer, and, wiping her hands clean, turned to face Shepard.

She had hoped to have more time to think over their earlier conversation, but she knew well enough that it was best not to let this fester.

A half-smirk crept across her face.

“No time like the present, yes?”

(Source: )

janeshepard-:

talichiktikka:

Tali glanced at Shepard, and then returned her gaze to her fellow engineers. “Let’s get started. We don’t have time to waste.”

Shepard nodded at Daniels and Donnelly as they saluted her and watched them for a second or two while they spoke to Tali before turning back to the doctor.

She’d been harsh with the two engineers at first, distrusting and doubtful because they were Cerberus. Making Tali Chief Engineer, and thus their superior, had mostly been because the quarian was the most talented tech Shepard knew but she couldn’t deny that she’d felt relieved knowing that one of her own people was in charge of the engineering deck and everyone down there had accepted, trusted that their CO did what was best and she’d simply had to ease up a bit after that.

“Glad to hear it”, she said to Chakwas, voice leveled. “I trust keeping her here speeds up her recovery, even if it has to bore her out of her skull.” Her eyes narrowed just a bit, the way they did when she thought about something. Shepard herself wouldn’t be able to stand being trapped here even if she had visitors coming and going all day long. “Do you need to monitor her all the time?”

“In a word, yes.”

Chakwas stood from her desk, pacing over to the sink. She retrieved a vial of meds and a handful of syringes. She had not filled Kaidan’s shots for the week, not that this was an ideal time to do so.

For one, she wanted to have something to buy her time to think in case Shepard wanted to have a heart to heart sooner than Chakwas had anticipated. For another, she wanted Shepard to see she was capable, fit for service, unaffected in her duties by her personal concerns.

Chakwas wasn’t sure that she believed it herself, but she felt it would be easier to parse out for herself if Shepard weren’t breathing down her neck about it.

“Tali would be out of here with a practically clean bill of health had she stayed and rested.”

Chakwas went through the monotonous tasks of filling syringes as she spoke. Take a syringe, screw on a needle, draw the meds, tap the air bubbles out, throw out the needle, screw on a new and sterile one, then on to the next syringe.

“I’ve said it before, but what happened to Tali might have killed a krogan.”

Chakwas looked away from her work for a moment, looking over her shoulder at Shepard, who was peering intently at the doctor.

“Or you,” she finished. 

(Source: )

The fuming anger that choked Dr. Chakwas slowly receded. It was nearly comforting that Shepard had said they would talk later. Nearly. She thought she now had a better idea of where Shepard was coming from, but the incident didn’t feel much better.

Chakwas had thought they had a better relationship than that. The doctor had come to Shepard in her hour of need because she had trusted her. She thought the commander could and would help her. How could she have persuaded the doctor to come back to the Normandy, only to make her wish she had gone away for good? But she had.

She finished fixing the bed for its next inhabitant with an angry flourish. She noticed Tali peering at her from her cot and gave her a belligerent look. Tali immediately turned her head from the doctor’s gaze. Chakwas sighed, wiping her brow of sweat although the room was not hot. It was, in fact, slightly chilly.

Shepard’s reaction had hurt Dr. Chakwas. Shepard had viewed her with a suspicion so general and unfounded, it had come like a punch in the gut. Chakwas had done everything she could to be a valuable member of the team, to make an appreciable contribution to their success, to- Chakwas stopped this line of thought there, as she felt a familiar stinging in the back of her throat.

The sensation came as a total surprise to her, and she viewed it as though she were one on the outside looking in, a stranger to her own desire to cry. This stranger, though, was cruel and spurning to the old woman. Bah, it harrumphed, what are you doing? You old fool. If you died tonight you couldn’t be any less good to Shepard than you are now.

Chakwas swallowed hard against the painful tears of rejection. She had had quite enough of that thinking. The tears faded into her throat and eventually disappeared altogether without having been shed. She hadn’t been kept around the new Normandy for sentimentality; she had been kept aboard for her resilience and her skill. Not even she, in her despondent thinking, had a right to discount those two virtues.

Chakwas sat at her desk and tried to work at her console, but found her mind still scattered. Leaning back in her chair and holding a palm over lips pursed in thought, she returned to her reverie.

Shepard’s reaction had not been truly unfounded at all. Shepard had seen a side of the doctor the prior week which no one had seen since Dr. Chakwas’ own dear departed mother had helped her through bitter playground scrapes at 9, through the feeling of bitter futility in med school at 24, and through the loss of her first love in basic at 28. Shepard couldn’t have known that, however. How was Shepard to know that Chakwas didn’t go around breaking down to people she got moderately close to?

Chakwas felt that Shepard should have known. But what gave her the right to project this feeling of connection onto her commander? Shepard had seen Chakwas at her best, really for years. Chakwas always operated at her best. It was practically a mantra. Shepard had seen Chakwas’ unflagging loyalty, her tenacious calm under fire, her remarkable medical prowess despite limited resources and time. Shepard had never seen her in a position of weakness. She had seen her drunk, once, but never, ever, had she seen her weakened.

And now that the doctor had been in a position of weakness, she felt abandoned by her commander, and more importantly by her friend. She knew that what Shepard had seen looked bad, very bad, but Chakwas had been in control of the situation. She had been ready to send Nellis away if he had tried anything funny. The gesture of laying her hand on his arm had not even been innately romantic. She knew her speech had crossed a monster of a line, and, though she was not certain how much Shepard had heard, she hoped that that was what was troubling her.

Nellis was Cerberus. He was, for all intents and purposes, the enemy, and Chakwas had fallen for his suave line. She was frustrated with herself for doing something so feckless and out of character. She had never trusted and would never trust Cerberus. Perhaps Chakwas had acted out of emotional weakness due to her encounter on Illium. Perhaps Jacob hadn’t helped things at all. Perhaps Shepard’s kindness laced with rage onboard the Normandy had simply exacerbated the problem. Chakwas was nearing 70 years of age, and she had never once felt old until then.

It certainly gave her pause.

janeshepard-:

drchakwas:

“Commander,” Dr. Chakwas greeted Shepard, trying in her mortification to retain her accustomed military decorum.

“Joe’s- Mr. Nellis’ shoulder should heal up within the next two or three days.”

Shepard held the doctor’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, left eyebrow still arched. She wasn’t exactly surprised, considering the last two lengthy conversations she’d had with the older woman, but she certainly hadn’t expected to see this - whatever this was.

“Good”, she said once she turned to the Cerberus operative. “We need all the information we can get in case the Reapers set up another trap. Kaidan” - she spun to face him - “escort Commander Nellis to the comm room. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

-

Once the two men had left, Shepard walked over to Tali, leaning against her cot so as not to make the quarian feel left out. “Anything I should know, doctor?” she asked, letting Chakwas decide whether the question referred to their guest’s injuries or something more personal.

“Commander,” Dr. Chakwas began apologetically. She dropped her hands into her lap helplessly.

She looked up at Shepard’s face. Still impassive, but her hard, analytic eyes shone on the doctor like a bottle-green police beam.

Chakwas squinted with a defiant effrontery that surprised even herself.

“We have a lot to speak about, Commander, but…”

She stood and began to fix the bed up for the next patient.

“I think you’ll agree this is not the time.”

(Source: averyillusiveman)