“Would you like the good news or the bad news?” Doctor Riel asked. She looked Hasan straight in the eye, dead serious. He hated the question, he hated that look from doctors and, for someone with a doctorate, his dislike for actually going to the doctor was well documented. Francesca pursed her lips, his anguish probably obvious to read on his face. “Oh, fix your face, Prakoso.”

“The good news, I guess,” Hasan said, sighing and leaning back in the chair. Doctor Riel’s office wasn’t very big, but she preferred it to the slightly louder clinic it was next to, and she was a colleague and a friend. They’d shared drinks here once already. This was, sadly, not one of those times. 

“Well, the good news is that it’s not an allergic reaction to any of the animals you touched planetside, nor is it some kind of alien pathogen or infection.” Francesca said, sliding a piece of paper forward. There were a hundred and one different tests on it, and all of them were negative. Hasan scratched the irritated skin on his hand and looked over the list. They’d really checked for everything, including a list of pathogens supplied by Proteus. Everything had come back negative. Except…

“Really?” He frowned. 

“Yes, we’re going to have to switch to a different disinfectant for you in the future. I’ve made a note of it in your file, and we’ll have…” she paused to smirk. “Well, we’ll have your engineers cook you up something you’re not allergic to.”

“But rubbing alcohol? That’s never been a problem!” He looked at the sheet with disbelief. 

“Hasan, it’s not uncommon for people to develop additional sensitivities over time. Have you ever had problems with eczema?” Francesca sipped her coffee and looked at her monitor, then back at him.

“No,” Hasan said, looking at his blood work. Sure, he wasn’t a medical doctor, but he’d dabbled in the various sciences. “I’ve never had skin problems before.”

“Well, monitor it. Stop disinfecting your hands for every little cut, and you’ll be fine in just a few days. Come see me Monday and if you’re still seeing symptoms you can be concerned.” She smiled at him. “I didn’t know you were such a worry-wart about this stuff, Prakoso. I thought you were the most relaxed of the senior staff.”

“Well,” he said, trying not to rub the small red patch, “I try to be careful about what I put in my body. I don’t like the idea of it being changed against my will, Francesca.” 

“Hah, you and almost everyone alive, Hasan. But I get what you’re saying. Agency and bodily autonomy are… something of a talking point on the ship right now.” She sighed, put the cup down and rubbed the bridge of her nose. 

“I… haven’t heard of any of that?” Hasan said, his concern about himself suddenly redirected at the rest of the crew.

“It’s nothing major. Well,” Doctor Riel waved her hand, “nothing major in the grand scheme of things. There were just… incidents, planetside.” Hasan’s eyebrows went up. Francesca typed in something on her monitor. “Doctor-patient confidentiality means I can’t go into detail, of course, but there have been… ahem—” she typed in a few things, “seventeen physical accidents, eight altercations that included violence — all between crew, don’t worry — another eight nervous breakdowns and five cases of… acute identity issues.”

“Identity issues?” 

“I’m really not at liberty to say more, Hasan. Besides, that’s… not really my department anyway. You’d have to ask Remi if you… well, if you want to be told more about confidentiality, I suppose.” She drummed her fingers on the desk. “I’m sure you’ll hear more in the next few days anyway.”

“I suppose I will.” Hasan stood up and stretched. “Uh… Remi?” 

“Doctor Drake,” Francesca said. “You can call him Remington if you want. I’m sure as hell not going to.” They both chuckled as she walked him to the door. “But yeah, don’t worry so much, get some rest. Another fun day at the office tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me,” Hasan sighed. “If I wanted to smile and wave this much I would’ve gone into politics voluntarily.”

“Did you really think there wouldn’t be any of that, on board the first manned interstellar discovery mission?” Francesca had a way of poking holes in his arguments that made him feel remarkably silly, and it was one of the many reasons she’d become a close friend over the weeks since they met. It wasn’t the first time someone on the crew had made him feel almost inadequate by comparison, but that was the imposter syndrome talking. So he just scrunched up his nose at her. 

“You know what I mean, Doctor.”

“I do,” she said with a smile, and opened the door. “Take care, Hasan.”

“You too, Francesca. The captain, myself and one or two others were considering having a drink tomorrow, if you’re interested.” Francesca’s eyebrows went up. “Celebrating successful first contact without intergalactic declarations of war and all that. Non-alcoholic options available, of course.”

“That sounds nice, if I’m honest. Sure, count me in.” She reached over, and then seemed to change her mind and pulled back. “I’d shake your hand, but I don’t want to catch your alien cooties.”

“I’ll see you then,” Hasan said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ll have to talk to Cathérine about your bedside manner, Doctor.” Francesca raised an eyebrow.

“It’s Cathérine now, is it?” 

“She insisted,” Hasan deflected and hurried out the door before she could pry any more. Her office was down a little hall next to the ship’s medical bay, which was large and well-staffed, two reasons Hasan was happy to have been able to avoid it for a more private consult. Sure, the various booths were quiet and private, but he still preferred to have a one-on-one if he had to see a doctor. 

At least his duties for the day were all done with. He’d written up his report of their planetary visit before seeing Francesca. His desire to see his work done had ultimately won over from his health anxiety, which now left him with a mostly free evening. He planned on enjoying it in his private quarters, probably reading, listening to music and trying to meditate, a skill he hadn’t exactly mastered but, as his grandfather used to say, the second best time to learn was today. 

He turned down the hall and almost bumped into a glum-looking First Officer and attached girlfriend. Everyone immediately apologized and he took a step back. Blake was small, especially compared to him. Not that Hasan considered himself ‘big’ by any means, but as someone whose entire occupation kept him cooped up in small spaces for extended periods of time, he’d learned to take care of his body through copious exercise. He could probably lift the First Officer up without too much effort. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. He knew something was up with Blake, but, well, nobody had confided in him, and he wasn’t the type to pry. He was, however, the type to at least worry a bit about his fellow crew-member and bridge staff. 

Andromeda looked at Blake, and then at Hasan. “Do you want to… now… or?” Clinton just shook his head. Whatever he was going through, it was something big. Hasan felt the familiar knot of worry tighten up in his chest a bit. He hated second-hand anxiety, but it did allow him to reach out more easily. 

“No,” Blake said, looking up at Hasan. He looked so fragile, like an errant touch or nudge could shatter him. “I’ll… tell people later,” he mumbled. Hasan just nodded, paused and then took a breath, lowering his own voice. 

“Look,” Hasan said, “I know there’s something of an… age divide on the bridge.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying not to be too aware of the two people looking at him, probably waiting for him to go away so they could continue to do whatever it was they were doing. “But, well, I have a baby sister your age, so I’m not that out of touch, and if you ever want someone to talk to… well, I’m obviously not going anywhere for a while.” He took another breath. He didn’t want what he was going to say to come off as too cringeworthy, but he also wanted to be genuine, and the two had a lot of overlap. 

“Thank you,” Blake muttered, clearly forcing a smile.

“The way I see it, as long as we’re on this mission, we’re the closest thing we have to family, you know? Especially us bridge crew. There’s already a bit of distance between the officers and the rest of staff, that kind of thing can be isolating, and when things like this happen…” He came to an awkward stop and rubbed his face with one hand. “I’m messing this up.”

“You’re not doing as bad as you think,” Andromeda said with a reassuring smile. “Had me convinced, at least.” She looked at Blake, who nodded. 

“Thank you, Mister Prakoso. I promise I’ll tell you — all the senior staff — more soon. There’s just… things I need to figure out and maybe take care of first.” His voice was soft, quiet, like he didn’t want even himself to hear. “But thank you. And I might take you up on that offer some time. Just like your little sister, hah.”

“Haha?” Hasan said, not understanding, and then shook his head. “Also, none of that. If we’re not on the bridge or in an official capacity, I insist you call me Hasan, alright? My grandmother fought tooth and nail to give me that name, so not using it would be disrespectful.” He added what he hoped was a cheeky wink, to make it clear he was kidding. 

“Aye aye,” Clinton and Andromeda both said, giving a very sloppy salute. 

“At ease,” Hasan chuckled. “Wait, don’t you technically speaking outrank me?” Blake scoffed.

“I think so, yeah.” There was a tired sigh. “Uh, go throw yourself in the brig for insubordination?”

“Do we have a brig?” Andromeda asked.

“Deck eight,” Blake replied almost mechanically. He did seem like the type to study the ship’s schematics until he knew them all by heart. Him and the Captain both. 

“Anyway,” Hasan said, steering things back on topic. “My door’s open, but you’re under no obligation to talk, alright? Whatever’s going on with you… take your time. Heal. Figure out. Whatever it is that needs doing, do it on your own time. I could give you a speech about how you’re no use to anyone if you’re in a bad spot, but I like to think we’ve moved beyond thinking of ourselves as ‘useful’ or not.” He smirked. “Take care of yourself, Clinton.”

The First Officer winced as if he’d just heard a loud voice, and Hasan frowned in confusion. Andromeda just shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Mister Prakoso. Uh, Hasan. Sir.” Hasan just nodded. He didn’t understand, but he didn’t have to. If it was important enough, he’d be clued in soon anyway. 

“Alright, take care, you two.” He gave a salute that was essentially just him tapping his own forehead with a single finger, the kind that got him berated by the personnel that had been stationed on military vessels beforehand, and then walked away. He hated having difficulty relating to people. Relating to people was something he was good at. Heck, it was something Clinton was good at too, right? So what was going on that had made that interaction so damned painful? Sure, Hasan would be clued in soon enough, but that didn’t stop him worrying. He hoped the kid would be fine. The Sollipsis had the most advanced medical technology available, some damned good doctors, and an ace team of psychologists and psychiatrists to deal with the inevitable stress of long-term space travel. 

When the elevators stopped at his floor, he was deeply lost in thought, trying to think of ways to maybe help Clinton feel better if this was a purely psychological thing, and he made a mental note to maybe send a message to Blake’s terminal later, to formalize the invitation. He wasn’t going to push the First Officer to be there tomorrow for drinks, but he might as well invite him there too. 

By the time he made it to his own quarters, Hasan Prakoso had all but forgotten about any itches he might have, and was sending messages to his own staff to check up on them, too. 

Elamimax

Hasan is such a good dude, tbh. I love him.

I just want to say thanks again to the wonderful patrons who are making this story happen. After a whopping eleven chapters have been commissioned in the past month alone, I consider myself very lucky indeed. The patrons will be getting these chapters a lot earlier than they're posted here on scribblehub, so I would like to ask you to think about joining too. It really doesn't take much, and it helps me out so much more than I can say. 

Don't worry, I'm not done with Blake yet ;) Not for a long time.