Humans found this an exciting of perhaps a stressful time. New assignments brought with it the novelty of the unknown and of potential danger. Generally not physical danger mind you, despite the holo-vids most of life within Star Fleet was safe, but emotional danger. Would you get on with a new commanding officer? Would you fit into a new crew and make your space within it?

It all that drama sounded exhausting to Doctor N’Vea. Perhaps that was why she had bounced from ship to ship so frequently in the past few years, not setting down roots for a long term assignment. There had been no controversies or drama simply a desire to learn new things, and have new experiences. Thus this new posting as Chief Medical Officer to the USS Aquarius seemed just like another step. Like an Earth frog hopping from lily pad to lily pad keeping above the water, the next logical step.

Rearranging the medical supplies to fit how she worked was perhaps unneeded. The previous CMO was fit for duty and had left things well off, but even Vulcans felt nervous as much as they deny it to themselves and others and exerting a measure of control was a way of gaining power in a situation when you had little. Closing the cabinet after filing away emergency gauze she adjusted her uniform, and returned to the small office that was her domain. 

The history of ship board Chief Medical Officers was fascinating. From the days of the earliest tall ship sailing the oceans they had been both apart and a part of the crew. She was a Lieutenant in Star Fleet but she was also a medical doctor, and thus beholden to other oaths as well. This was not something that she dwelled on particularly much, but it was worth noting. Apart and a part.

Pulling up the ship’s last mission logs she reviewed recent travel for anything that was medically noteworthy. It was hours of reading but it was useful, and another way to eek out some control over a new and unknown situation. Not that Vulcans needed to do that of course, stress was illogical.