Vekta Prime Orbital
127-11-7
16:30
“All Passengers we have now docked at Vekta Prime Orbital station. Please ensure you have all of your belongings with you and have a pleasant day.”
Octavia Haas sat patiently and waited until the rush for the exit had subsided before picking up her small carrybag and exiting the transport. She immediately wished for the relative peace of the transport as she was hit with the noise and smells of the station. There were people everywhere and the noise was...almost too much. Octavia was used to either the relative quiet of a ship or the peace of her neighborhood where she lived. Squaring her shoulders she battled through the crowds and was greatly relieved when she was waved through customs.
She knew where she needed to be without double checking her information having memorised the time and location. She had prepared fully, planning her route including alternatives in case of an unexpected delay or cancellation, and was pleased that everything had gone according to plan. She was fifteen minutes early when she arrived at the reception desk, again as planned. Her mane of red hair was forced into a thick braid and her dress uniform was, of course spotless, and well fitted. As she waited for the receptionist to acknowledge her she ran through various medical terms in her mind, one after another. A technique she had found useful in the past when preparing for a potentially unnerving or uncomfortable task.
“Hello, Ma’am. Are you here in regards to the Section 1-24-C Application?” The receptionist asked Octavia, snapping her back to reality.
Octavia nodded brusquely handing the receptionist her military identification. “Captain Octavia Haas reporting for the scheduled appointment.”
“Great, may I please see your Citizen PassCard for confirmation.” The young brunette woman asked with a smile and small tilt of her head. She was strangely cheery despite the amount of people here today.
Octavia handed across the the piece of shiny plastic and whilst she waited she ran through possible reasons for the receptionists cheerful demeanor. It was not intentional, more a habit she had picked up during her psychology training. They taught you to watch and see everything a person did. Even things a person didn’t do could yield answers and aid diagnosis.
The receptionist took Octavia’s card, and scanned it, with a large hologram appearing between them. As all of the information scrolled through, the young lady watched the screen intently, until the scrolling stopped on what appeared to be an appointment. Handing the card back to the Captain she cheerfully said, “Fantastic! You interview is in Room 37, Floor 2. I wish you luck, Ma’am!”
Octavia took the card and nodded. “Thank you and I hope you have a pleasant day.”
She found the room with no issues and, after briefly ensuring her hair was still tightly controlled and that the buttons on the uniform had not come undone, knocked sharply on the door several times before opening it and entering. She was aware of the possibility that it could be either a civilian or a military official conducting the interview and had debated whether saluting was appropriate. She had decided it was as a civilian would likely as not be unoffended by the gesture but a military officer would be if she did not. So she saluted and then offered her name and rank again.
“Captain Octavia Haas reporting as scheduled.”
The room was simple and unadorned with just a table and two chairs and Octavia nodded silently to herself. It was what she had expected.
“Welcome, Captain… Or should I call you Doctor?” A bald, somewhat laid back looking man in a business was already sat down and looking over the information before him on a stack of paper. Real paper, the rare stuff. “My name is Mr. Bordanus. Please, take a seat.”
Octavia took the empty seat across from the man. “Either is fine as both are accurate Sir.”
She studied him, taking in the relaxed posture, the business suit and the fact that he was using paper. Most things were done digitally now but Octavia found the use of paper refreshing. But also interesting...was there a reason that they did not want an electronic record of the interview? Electronic information could be hacked and copied multiple times but meant losing information was much more difficult. Paper on the other hand seemed inefficient as time would have to be put into making copies of the information, storage space was also needed and paper was very easily lost.
All of this ran through her mind as she waited calmly, hands in her lap, for the man to speak.
“Alright then, let’s begin. I’ll start off easy, with a recap of your service history. Tell me a little bit about your service on the UNSF New England.”
Octavia was silent a moment gathering her thoughts and ensuring she had a clear idea in mind of her answer.
“My position on board the New England was as a medical officer. I was, in the beginning, performing the standard medical duties required of any medical officer on board ship.
Such as performing routine medicals on ship personnel, treating injuries received along the way and various other tasks. Whilst I enjoyed my work in the infirmary and worked well with my CMO I was eager to begin branching out and expanding my role.
It was therefore somewhat fortuitous in that I had made it known to my CMO that I was now a qualified psychologist and interested in performing in that field as well. The ship was currently without a Psychologist due to their previous Psychologist having to relinquish their post -for personal reasons- I therefore stepped into that breach. I acted as primary Psychologist until a new one arrived and then remained to assist him for some time after. “ She paused for a moment and then added. “He was a very good psychologist and I learned a great deal from him. “
“Was?” The interviewer asked.
“Yes. I received word that he passed away approximately six months ago. “ Octavia continued speaking in her calm tone though there was now a hint of regret in it. “A loss to both myself and to the world of Psychology. Dr Jacobs was a brilliant man and an excellent mentor.”
“My condolences…” The man shifted in his seat slightly before continuing. “And what about the UNSF Abraham Lincoln?”
Octavia briefly wondered if she had erred in mentioning her mentor but pushed the thought aside. It was done and it would either go in her favour or it would not. No sense in worrying over something that could not be changed. Instead she thought back to her time on the Abraham Lincoln and smiled slightly, a mere quirk of one lip before speaking, a wry smile not one of pleasure.
“The UNSF Abraham Lincoln offered different yet no less challenging duties for me. Whereas on the New England I learned the realities of practicing Psychology, the Abraham lincoln taught me a valuable lesson when it comes to relating with your fellow crew members.”
She paused choosing her next words carefully. “In all honesty I am not a natural people person having always preferred my microscopes and scalpels to people. Even though I understood interaction from a psychology point of view I found it...difficult to apply this to myself. During my posting we spent much of our time Isolated, exploring uncharted regions of space. Mapping Nebulae and observing stellar phenomenon and I primarily conducted medical research studies and assisted my CMO with general medical duties. One patient in particular proved especially challenging for me, a young ensign who became pregnant whilst on board.
She was understandably concerned by this given we were far out and that medical risks were still apparent even with today’s modern medicine. The situation was further complicated by the fact that my CMO was the father. The two were unmarried but, as I understand, in a stable relationship. This was not an issue from a medical standpoint, you understand, but more from a social point. The CMO acted with all due professionalism and ceded the case to me as was appropriate and the pregnancy proceeded smoothly. However there were complications during the birth and both the ensign and her child were lost. There was a malfunction with the patients nanites causing them to act aggressively and I was unable to correct this in time.
The CMO was understandably distraught and, as is often the case in these situations, blamed me for the tragedy. Intellectually I understood this and endeavored to assist him as best as I was able but on a emotional level I...floundered. I have lost patients before and as in this case I have never doubted that I did all I could but this was the first time i had been in such a situation. Ultimately whilst I was able to see to his physical wellbeing, I cannot say the same for his emotional wellbeing. Thankfully the Abraham lincoln had another medical officer who specialized in grief management and she was able to support him until we could return to station and he could be assigned appropriate mental health care. I do not look on this time as a failure however but as a time when I grew as both a doctor and a person. I learned an important lesson that humans are ultimately emotional beings and that in order to be a better doctor I needed to recognise and embrace that. I firmly believe I am a better doctor as a result.
Which certainly seems to be the case as I have received several letters from colleagues who have worked with me prior to this and afterwards.”
Nodding and paying heavy attention, the man took careful notes. Octavia could see that his handwriting was immaculate, and these days, nobody even knew how to write by hand anymore. It was quite peculiar. “Let’s continue with the UNSF Rapier.”
“The UNSF Rapier was assigned to patrol a sector of space on the fringes of civilisation and we were out there for over a year. Originally I was posted there as second in command to the CMO and one of two Psychologists on board. However shortly into our journey our CMO was killed in a skirmish with several pirate vessels. Our commanding officer decided we were too far out to easily get a replacement and since I was second anyway I was given the position.
Although I had previously acted with authority this was my first time as head of the medical department. Although I was next in line for the position, as second to the CMO, there were several other officers who felt I was not experienced enough for the position. I believed in my ability to perform and also believed wholeheartedly that our commanding officer, a seasoned officer, would not have put me in charge if he felt I was unequal to the task.
Gradually over our thirteen month stint I proved myself to the crew and achieved their respect and trust. Our stint was mostly quiet though there were the odd skirmish now and then. The Rapier returned to port with no other fatalities and with all crew members in good health. I pride myself on not only doing my job well but also showing others that I am indeed ready for the responsibility that comes with being Chief Medical Officer. Commander Hampton was one of those who provided references for me and was more than happy to write a letter of commendation if one is required.”
“The Commander did speak glowingly of you. And with a dreadnought that houses 16000 people, your work will be cut out for you, if you get the job.” He nodded to himself as he seemed to be assessing Octavia’s own psyche. Perhaps that’s what this interview was. “The reason for your selection isn't coincidental -you possess aptitudes in both medical, anatomical as well as psychological fields. This combined field of study neatly leads into my next question... tell me, doctor. How familiar are you with the field of hypnosis?”
Octavia wondered if her interviewer was someone with a background in psychology. It would make sense given the dual role she was applying for. She was not unduly disturbed by this idea as she was here to be vetted and expected there to be a thorough examination of her mental state. After all she couldn’t be responsible for other people’s mental health if her own was unstable.
“Hypnosis is a state a person can enter that enhances their suggestibility and reduces their awareness of their surroundings. It is often used, in conjunction with other treatments, to treat patients with a variety of illnesses and disorders. Known as Hypnotherapy it has been used to treat phobias, assist in pain management and more. Though there is still much debate as to how useful it is and how far it should be used in a patients treatment. There is some concern that such a treatment can and is abused. I myself can hypnotise someone, it is mandatory when studying for a Psychology degree, but I have not used it often on my patients.”
“You have mentioned certain concerns regarding the topic. What are these concerns exactly?” The man asked.
Octavia wondered where this was leading, were they planning on using Hypnosis for something? An experiment perhaps? It had been tried before with varying levels of success. Humans had the capability of implanting suggestions in a person's subconscious that could remain there indefinitely until activated. She knew it had been done before but had no idea if anything like that was current going on in the Navy. She wasn’t with Intelligence and as it wasn’t her speciality she wouldn’t be called upon to consult either. She frowned slightly thinking about how to phrase her answer.
“Hypnosis is, in my opinion, a somewhat risky option to take. You are effectively altering someone’s thought patterns on a subconscious level. Whether that is something as harmless as helping them to stop drinking or as dangerous as getting them to shoot someone, the process is the same. Now, we know that is very unlikely a person could be hypnotised to harm themselves, unless they were already mentally unstable, as the human survival instinct is too strong.”
She leaned forward slightly in her chair as she became more involved in the subject. “However we do know that hypnotism has already been used heavily amongst the Intelligence community. They have created whole dormant personalities designed to activate when a certain phrase is used. But that is all public knowledge and I have not yet fully addressed your question.
My greatest concerns about Hypnosis are one: It is unreliable, and can cause numerous mental disorders,
and two: It is impossible to detect unless you are specifically testing a person for it. And is therefore incredibly difficult to defend against unless you have specific training or are naturally strong willed.”
“Those concerns are indeed justified.” The interviewer replied. “It is true that the intelligence community, of any Interstellar Nation for that matter, uses such methods to obtain intelligence, as well as act as a counter.” He paused to let that sink in. “However, in order to perform such procedures safely, qualified personnel are needed. As such, the Apollyon may encounter such threats to its crew of any possible source, and the ship will need someone that can inoculate them against such threats. Identify said threat, and pass on the information to the correct people.” Another pause, it seemed like an eternity as the man looked in the doctor’s eyes. “Which is what I am here to ascertain: Do you believe YOU can be that person?”
Octavia met and held the other man’s gaze not flinching from the prolonged eye contact. She nodded once sharply then said. “Basically you need someone to ensure the crew does not fall victim to such tactics, and if needs be use it to gain information from an enemy or enemies. Am I the person for this job, Absolutely.”
Octavia did not hesitate in her answer nor was her tone anything but firm. Of course she knew they were asking a lot more than they were actually saying, she wasn’t an idiot, and some of what they didn’t say had the potential to be very morally questionable. But as long as it was for the greater good and served a purpose she would agree. She had her own moral code and used it to navigate the rights and wrongs as she saw them.
“Well then. With that answer, the interview is now concluded.” The interviewer set down his pen and closed his folder. “I wish you luck in the selections. And if you don’t get pick, then I wish you luck in your future endeavours.”
Octavia stood and shook the man’s hand firmly and nodded at his words. “Thank you for your time.” She replied before leaving the room.
It was done. She felt somewhat perplexed by the interview unable to let go of the feeling that she had missed something. The interviewer was an enigma with his use of real paper and his exceptional handwriting. She sighed and told herself answers would either be forthcoming or they wouldn’t and that she had done all she could. Now she just had to wait. She glanced at the clock on one of the corridor walls, she had a while yet to wait for the next transport so she decided a coffee was in order.
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