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The Good Doctor-
The plaque shifted off center for the thousandth time as another freighter left the docking bay. Dr. Feelgood sighed, knowing that without even looking up that he would have to adjust it again.
“Damn,” He thought to himself, “I should have just glued that thing to the wall.” Wearily he rose from his chair and began to walk across his office. Pushing the hanging cord that held his drying laundry out of the way, he reached for the plaque and removed it from the wall. It's polished brass surface gleamed in the yellow sodium lighting, 'Dr. Theodore Feelgood, Medical Doctor, it read. Dr. Feelgood exhaled on the plaque, and began to polish it with his shirt, mainly out of ritual, for all the good it did. This was the only thing that he was allowed to take with him to the frontier planets, so polishing it just to make it shine that little bit more meant the world to him. This was his badge, his pride, it was the one thing that made him into truly what he wanted to be, and it was how he wanted others to see him. Having it be smudged, or hanging on the wall at an old angle was out of the question. Once it was to his satisfaction he began the task of trying to hang it level on the wood paneled walls. The paneling was fake however, just a facade to cover up the cold metal walls and circuitry of the backwater space station, but he'd be damned if he couldn't find a way to hang this plaque on them.
Finally the plaque was hung to a satisfactory level and Dr. Feelgood turned around and gazed wearily upon his office. Papers and clothes cluttered the place, as would be expected when the home and the professional life are crammed into the same space. Medical journals, hopelessly out of date were stacked in piles alongside his couch, which doubled as his bed. Sighing, he began the task of picking his way back to his desk over the debris that littered his floor. Finally, when he reached his chair he slumped down and leaned back, puffing out his cheeks and staring at the ceiling fan that circled lazily above.
“Is this what I came out here for?” he thought to himself. Suddenly, the rumble of another ship leaving the docking bay rattled his office, and the plaque once more shifted off center.
“Damn,” He thought to himself, “I should have just glued that thing to the wall.” Wearily he rose from his chair and began to walk across his office. Pushing the hanging cord that held his drying laundry out of the way, he reached for the plaque and removed it from the wall. It's polished brass surface gleamed in the yellow sodium lighting, 'Dr. Theodore Feelgood, Medical Doctor, it read. Dr. Feelgood exhaled on the plaque, and began to polish it with his shirt, mainly out of ritual, for all the good it did. This was the only thing that he was allowed to take with him to the frontier planets, so polishing it just to make it shine that little bit more meant the world to him. This was his badge, his pride, it was the one thing that made him into truly what he wanted to be, and it was how he wanted others to see him. Having it be smudged, or hanging on the wall at an old angle was out of the question. Once it was to his satisfaction he began the task of trying to hang it level on the wood paneled walls. The paneling was fake however, just a facade to cover up the cold metal walls and circuitry of the backwater space station, but he'd be damned if he couldn't find a way to hang this plaque on them.
Finally the plaque was hung to a satisfactory level and Dr. Feelgood turned around and gazed wearily upon his office. Papers and clothes cluttered the place, as would be expected when the home and the professional life are crammed into the same space. Medical journals, hopelessly out of date were stacked in piles alongside his couch, which doubled as his bed. Sighing, he began the task of picking his way back to his desk over the debris that littered his floor. Finally, when he reached his chair he slumped down and leaned back, puffing out his cheeks and staring at the ceiling fan that circled lazily above.
“Is this what I came out here for?” he thought to himself. Suddenly, the rumble of another ship leaving the docking bay rattled his office, and the plaque once more shifted off center.
Keep it up :)
He's got pills for that, Moldy.
That I do!
Care to share? >_>
The professor's eyes lighted up as he read the latest stationing reports he had received from SkyCommand Intelligence. Another one! Maybe this one could be reasoned with? Things had certainly not gone well with that odd …Doctor. What was his name again? Luthor, no: Lector. No, that was not it, either. No matter.
He concentrated, and the projection of the report disappeared, making way for the messaging interface. Mifune relaxed in his armchair and quickly thought up an adequate recruitment note.
"Dear Doctor Feelgood,
Having heard about your latest appointment, I was wondering if you were feeling fulfilled with the duties in the more rural parts of space, so to speak.
The Department for Medical Robotics Advancement Research is always looking for competent academicians to bolster its ranks. In my capacity as Head of said Department, I am both qualified and willing to offer you a professorship at our venerable institution.
Physical presence at the university is not required, but accomodations will be provided.
Sincerely,
Prof. Dr. mifune toshiro kanchou
Head of the Department for Medical Robotics Advancement Research (D-MedRAR)
First University of Terra II"
He concentrated, and the projection of the report disappeared, making way for the messaging interface. Mifune relaxed in his armchair and quickly thought up an adequate recruitment note.
"Dear Doctor Feelgood,
Having heard about your latest appointment, I was wondering if you were feeling fulfilled with the duties in the more rural parts of space, so to speak.
The Department for Medical Robotics Advancement Research is always looking for competent academicians to bolster its ranks. In my capacity as Head of said Department, I am both qualified and willing to offer you a professorship at our venerable institution.
Physical presence at the university is not required, but accomodations will be provided.
Sincerely,
Prof. Dr. mifune toshiro kanchou
Head of the Department for Medical Robotics Advancement Research (D-MedRAR)
First University of Terra II"
Dr. Feelgood walked wearily into his office, leaning up against the door after he closed it.
"I swear," he growled to himself, " If I have to treat ONE MORE case of this 'freighter madness', I'm going to loose it."
Freighter madness, a disease that he was convinced was just created by pilots for an excuse to not take responsibility for their actions. The supposed 'symptoms' were so various, and so vague that it was impossible to treat in any scientific manner. Stomach pains, headaches, pins and needles, and any number of things that could not be quantitatively measured. But of all people, Dr. Feelgood knew the power of the mind in dealing with medicine. If a pilot was truly convinced that he had a disease, then the mind would take over, and create the disease for him.
But, it was with that power of the mind that the good doctor defeated this disease. Mixing the strongest drink in his repitoire, and handing it to the stricken pilot calling it an 'elixir', he was always amazed at how powerfully it worked.
“Gee, thanks doc!” The pilots would say as they stumbled drunkenly out of his office. “You done fixshed me up rightsh!”
Dr. Feelgood sighed, “Maybe I should go back into bar tending, I seem to be doing more of that than honest to god medical treatment.” Suddenly his computer chimed, dictating that a message had just arrived. Wearily he crossed his office and glanced at his computer, dreading the past due notice that he thought it would be. Dr. Feelgood's eyes widened in amazement. Professorship?! Was he reading that right? He sat in his chair, deep in thought. This was what he was waiting for, but he hadn't expected it nearly so soon.
Dr. Feelgood, his mind made up, and jaw set in determination, rose from his chair, crossed the office, and peeled the plaque off the wall. With that tucked safely under his arm, he left his so called 'office', and didn't look back.
He was going to Terra II.
"I swear," he growled to himself, " If I have to treat ONE MORE case of this 'freighter madness', I'm going to loose it."
Freighter madness, a disease that he was convinced was just created by pilots for an excuse to not take responsibility for their actions. The supposed 'symptoms' were so various, and so vague that it was impossible to treat in any scientific manner. Stomach pains, headaches, pins and needles, and any number of things that could not be quantitatively measured. But of all people, Dr. Feelgood knew the power of the mind in dealing with medicine. If a pilot was truly convinced that he had a disease, then the mind would take over, and create the disease for him.
But, it was with that power of the mind that the good doctor defeated this disease. Mixing the strongest drink in his repitoire, and handing it to the stricken pilot calling it an 'elixir', he was always amazed at how powerfully it worked.
“Gee, thanks doc!” The pilots would say as they stumbled drunkenly out of his office. “You done fixshed me up rightsh!”
Dr. Feelgood sighed, “Maybe I should go back into bar tending, I seem to be doing more of that than honest to god medical treatment.” Suddenly his computer chimed, dictating that a message had just arrived. Wearily he crossed his office and glanced at his computer, dreading the past due notice that he thought it would be. Dr. Feelgood's eyes widened in amazement. Professorship?! Was he reading that right? He sat in his chair, deep in thought. This was what he was waiting for, but he hadn't expected it nearly so soon.
Dr. Feelgood, his mind made up, and jaw set in determination, rose from his chair, crossed the office, and peeled the plaque off the wall. With that tucked safely under his arm, he left his so called 'office', and didn't look back.
He was going to Terra II.