Saying Hello Part II
Posted on Sat Mar 21st, 2026 @ 4:29am by Lieutenant Maya Canak & Lieutenant Ezra Van Wijnbergen
Edited on on Tue Mar 24th, 2026 @ 4:36pm
1,344 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Episode 2 - The Sins of History
Location: Victim Advocate's Office - Deck 9 - USS Artemis
Timeline: MD016 1345 hrs
Ezra shook his head in disgust. "That one's extremely mild, as you probably know."
"I do." Maya shook her head. "I cannot condone what he or those like him did to the people of Bajor. But I also do not like how all this is stirring up old grievances. Especially when Bajor has come so far." She was more concerned that, no matter how the trial ended, there could be fighting between the two groups. "Some wounds take generations to heal."
He nodded, setting the PADD carefully onto the pile. Ezra could see the faint reflection of Maya's face on the glossy surface of his desk. She seemed steady and her concern was evident. That was clearly a healer's posture. He wondered how many kilograms of fear she carried for others in her life.
"That's true," Ezra said quietly. "In psychology, they teach us about closure. You close a door when the something is done. In sociology, they teach us about collective memory and how it hardens into story, into identity. Both are right. But neither one is kind."
His gaze drifted to bare shelves behind him. He really needed to get cracking on filling-out this office.
"The thing about trauma is that it abides without any schedule," he continued. "It migrates. It moves from the body to the family, from the family to the neighbourhood. It manifests in people who trust, who they recoil from, which faces make their pulse jump." He tapped the desk and shook his head. "By the time it reaches a courtroom, it's already been alive and breathing for too long."
He looked back at Maya and pursed his lips. "The goal is to not have trials reopen old wounds. It's always my hope that we're putting some sunlight on the wounds that were never properly dressed."
Ezra sat forward suddenly. "I'm so sorry, Maya. Can I offer you something to drink or eat?"
"There's no need to apologize," she said, smiling warmly. "I will have something to drink if you are. If not, I'm content with conversation." Even though she was in a different field, she understood. "I appreciate people like you. I heal the physical and do what I can to comfort patients, but you and others who work with the mind do the true healing."
The chair legs of his desk chair gave some slight protect as he rose and crossed the small office to the replicator. "One mug lapsong souchong. Strong and hot," he said, then glanced back over his shoulder. "And for you, Maya?"
"Canela tea. Hot and sweet," she replied. "Thank you."
He gave a slight nod and turned back to the replicator. "Canela tea. Hot and sweet."
The machine came to life and two mugs resolved into being, steam already rising in thin ribbons. Ezra stood there a moment then carefully carried over the mugs, setting them down in front of Maya with both hands.
"I don't know about true healing, Maya," he said, his voice low. "You can put bones back where they belong. You can stop bleeding."
He lifted the mug of tea to his lips and paused, sensing it might be too hot.
"I envy you," Ezra said, sincere and clear.
She looked at him for a moment while she processed that. "Because I heal the body? You do a great deal of good as well." She took a sip of her tea to let that sink in. "You've heard the saying that it takes a village? I believe that. It takes many people in many positions, working together, that change society for the better."
"What I do is different," Ezra said. "I believe that too, Maya. Though, some days I wish all it would take is a hypospray."
He took a careful sip of the tea, breathing in the smokey flavour more than tasting it. Unfortunately, it was still too hot to enjoy.
"How long have you served aboard the Artemis?"
"Eight months, more or less. Some days it's hard to be sure as one day can blend into another. Fortunately, I've spent most of that time as a doctor. I'm also the coroner, which is not always so pleasant a task." She shrugged. "But dealing with death is also part of a doctor's job. I like to think that I find answers."
Ezra regarded her over the rim of his mug. "I've always found death to be a little... cleaner." He wasn't trying to be irreverent--he genuinely felt comfortable with death.
"When someone dies, there's a line," he said, making a slow chopping motion with his free hand. "Before. After. The body stops fighting with itself. The physical suffering reaches an end." He chanced a real sip of the Chinese tea before wincing at the heat. "There's grief, of course. Maybe shock. Anger, too. But the event of death is finite."
He leaned back in his chair and looked directly at Maya now. He would never assume a medical doctor to have a completely scientific view of death--everyone was entitled to their beliefs.
"It's the living that continues to undo me, doctor," he admitted. "The survivors who live with the pain and grief. It's not the dead that I sit with."
Ezra felt as though he may suddenly be monopolizing the conversation and fell silent for a moment.
Maya took a moment to ponder what he said. "I believe in the possibility of life after death, as my ancestors did. But I agree that we deal with the living. The ones left behind. I've had occasion to sit with the dying. To hold their hand so they don't feel alone. And I've been the one to inform the family and help them through the initial grief. Sadly, some never learn to let go of that pain and move on."
She looked at Ezra for a moment, her gaze soft and understanding. "I've also been known to simply listen."
"My father is ill," he said suddenly. He returned his attention to the tea, lowering his eyes to the mug.
Maya set her cup down so she could give him her full attention. "I'm so sorry. What do the doctors say?"
"It's called Vulnari's Atrophy," he said. "Genetic disorder that affects some Betazoids. He was diagnosed two years ago and has undergone several cortical realignment procedures. Then the injections. But the doctors have run out of options."
Ezra didn't elaborate any further. He felt he didn't need to with her and so watched Maya's face instead--it was likely she knew about the condition.
"I've read that it's similar to Bendii's Syndrome for Vulcans," he added. "But far less merciful at the end."
"Oh, dear. I know of them, but have not had to treat anyone who suffers from either disease." It was the part of being a doctor she liked least: knowing there were some illnesses she could not treat. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
There was a slight upturn to the corners of his mouth.
"No," he said waving away the kind offer. "It just feels good to get that off my chest to somebody." He looked down at his tea and thought about his parents and the challenges they were both now facing. His father would likely be somewhere on his way to Andoria and his mother would be home on Betazed, no doubt teeming with worry while she pruned and trimmed every plant in the garden.
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant Maya Canak
Chief Medical Officer/Medical Examiner, USS Artemis
Starfleet Criminal Investigations Unit
Lieutenant Ezra Van Wijnbergen
Victim Advocate Counselor, USS Artemis
Starfleet Criminal Investigations Unit
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