Mont'yr did not have high hopes as she walked through the halls towards Room 85, her hooves clopping softly against the plasteel floor. Two knocks would be all she offered before entering, tiredly saying her full name and duties aboard the ship as soon as she had closed the door behind her. "Shas'la T'olku Mont'yr, or as you Gue'las know me, 'Monty.'" She would remove her blade and her handgun, placing them down by the door, before reluctantly snuffing out the lho-stick she had been trailing all the way here.
"T'au Fire Caste Warrior. You probably haven't seen one of my kind before."
The forwardness of the introduction certainly caught Lazarus off-guard, as did the one giving it. He'd heard of and read about this kind of Xenos before, alongside others the Imperium regularly encountered, but he had been on the near-opposite end of the galaxy from where they were supposed to be from at the time, so he'd never expected to meet one alive and in the flesh, much less as a member of an Imperial Rogue Trader's crew. Beneath the reflective glasses, his eyes shifted from one of sudden surprise to that of careful scrutiny as he stepped over to introduce himself in return.
"You would be correct in that assumption, even my background was not exactly a hospitable environment for meeting Xenos who were not in various states of posthumousness. Nonetheless, it’s a privilege to meet you. You'll know me as Doctor Lazarus Germael, the ship's chief chirurgeon. I trust you were given at least some explanation as to why you were sent to me?"
"From what I understand you're here to ensure I can do my job, which, I assure you I can do perfectly well, but I presume you must confirm it somehow. To begin with, let me tell you a number of things every fething trooper has asked me. I am not herbivorous. Equally, I am not an obligate carnivore, nor do I devour human flesh. You are thinking of the kroot."
"What else... My reflexes are apparently slower than yours. I do not feel sexual attraction to you. I cannot brainwash you; mind trick you, bamboozle you, hypnotise you or any other number of mental trickeries that you gue'las insist is possible. I can drink alcohol, I generally refrain. I smoke lhos. Is there anything else before we get started?"
As the T'au began detailing information about herself and her species at large, an auto quill worn over Lazarus's right finger began to scratch away furiously at documenting synthpaper, transcribing exactly what the alien said for future reference and cataloguing. Her candour, while blunt and understandably harsh, was much appreciated in comparison to his usual visitors of crewmen who would take an hour to explain that they had a sprained ankle. As she finished, he briefly skimmed over his transcription before returning his gaze to her.
"Well, the good news is you've already answered some of the information I needed to obtain from you. I should clarify, I'm merely here to evaluate your physical health and ensure the ship's medicae staff and facilities are capable of treating any injuries or pre-existing conditions you might have without putting yourself, ourselves, or anyone else aboard at risk. Your efficiency in combat will likely be evaluated by whoever the captain deigns to assign you under."
"Now, as for what I need for your medicae records: Knowing that you're omnivorous, and capable of consuming human-manufactured alcohols as well as the narcotics within a lho-stick shows an unexpected similarity in physiology to our own. I must ask, however, are there any substances or materials you know of that when ingested or touched cause illness to you or those of your species, but not to any humans you've seen exposed to it in such a fashion? I'd like to ensure our mess hall and quartermaster don't accidentally kill you because we didn't know you couldn't eat an apple or something like that."
The T'au would exhale shortly, running a single finger along the slit in her forehead. She had noted the device over his finger scribbling down her words, but paid little mind to it. As equally as she could not read his mind, he could not read hers, because that was patently and utterly ridiculous. Her physical health and the ability to treat them?
"Can you set bones? Suture wounds? Treat burns? Remove shrapnel? Then you are adequately fitted for my recuperation and recovery." she cricked her fingers backwards in a move that no doubt looked extremely painful for the human, but was really nothing special to her. "I have lived with Gue'las for more than a few cycles, I would know if any of your staples hurt me."
It would seem the forwardness of this Xenos specimen knew no bounds. Lazarus would be lying to himself if he didn't admit it was a welcome change of pace from the drivel that traditionally crawled into his office. If the Xenos word was to be completely trusted, it would seem her species' physiology was similar enough to enable her to survive in Imperial space with no medical issues, if not possessing distinct anatomical quirks that emphasized her entirely alien origins.
"I'll note it down in your file that you're to be given the same dietary needs and medical treatments as all other combat-ready members of the crew, unless any future situations arise that would require a different plan of action according to your physiology. Now, are there any pre-existing injuries, ailments, or illnesses you have that you would like to request treatment for?"
"There is one situation which, although unlikely to occur, is probably best for you to be aware of. If we encounter any other T'au that are not from the Farsight Enclave; that is to say their armour is not a crimson red, I will require a void-proof helmet and external air supply. There is a subspecies of my kind; the Aun, who have... Unwelcome effects on my mind, and I have been informed its effects are pheromonally derived."
"The forewarning is appreciated. I'll confer with the ship's quartermaster to ensure that equipment is always available to both you and your immediate superior in the event its needed. "
More scribbling with the auto quill would fill the air, most notably the emphasis made by the striking of three horizontal lines across a section of the paper. Setting aside the document and detaching the auto quill from his finger, Lazarus would clasp his hands together and address the Xenos yet again.
"Now, a procedure we perform after some combat injuries is blood transfusion, replacing lost blood with a compatible external supply. As I'm sure you understand, usable samples from your species don't exist anywhere we could conceivably obtain them, so such a process will be almost impossible with you.
However, in the unlikely event we locate another member of your species from which to obtain a sample or we devise some means of artificially designing an equivalent for use until your body rejuvenates its own supply, I'd like to have a sample of your blood in or medicae records. With your permission, I'd like to draw a small sample from you now, just enough for biologis analysis.
You can refuse of course, given the unlikelihood that it'll ever see the chance to be put to use, but I hope you'll agree that having an example of your species' blood on file in our records will serve as a sort of safety net in the event we figure out how to utilize it for medicae purposes the way we do human blood."
"Forgive me, doctor, but do you really think that your superiors will allow resources to go towards the health of a..." She paused for a moment, rubbing her fingers together. "Filthy, perfidious, unclean, degenerate, backstabbing, treacherous, heretical, treacherous, I could go on, really, xenos? Or is it more likely my blood would be used to synthesise something quite different?"
At this, Lazarus would lower the rims of his glasses, the reflective lenses giving way to a firm gaze, the forced eye contact hopefully hammering home the gravity and intent behind the words that follow.
"Shas'la T'olku Mont'yr." He would say, taking careful steps to mimic her pronunciation of the name. "As long as you are in service to the same superior as I am, I will do everything in my power to ensure you survive and remain medically fit and healthy for your duties. Your species is of no regard to me in this sense, you are a member of the crew and you will receive all the same courtesies and treatments from myself and my staff as that warrants. I understand if you do not wish to provide the sample, but let it be known that you have my word it will only be used in order to ensure you can continue to perform the duties called upon you by the captain."
With that, he would return his eyewear to their proper position, his hands clasped together and thumbs softly drumming against one another as he awaited her reply.
"If I go into anaemic shock, just shoot me and my drone and toss me out the airlock doctor. I don't intend on such a course of action needing to take palace, but... Well... Just do it. It'll be easier for us both."
"If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do should the situation arise. Now, are there any other medicae-related concerns you wish brought up before I dismiss you?"
"If I need anything else, I'll contact you... Actually, do you have a light? I appear to have left mine in my room." She would twirl the half-burnt stub of the lho she had been smoking before she had arrived.
Lazarus would crack the faintest hint of a smirk as he produced a small lighter and offered it to the T'au. "Keep it, I don't really have much use for it anyway. Just don't let me catch you telling anyone else that smoking those damn things is doctor-approved."
She would nod as she relit her lho, before belting her blade and handgun back onto her waist. "In the best of ways doctor, I hope we meet as little as possible."
"That's all I ask from my charges. Stay safe, and I'll let the captain know you've got a clean bill of health and are ready for duty."
