Media Interrogations

Posted on Friday October 3, 2025 @ 2:48pm by Lieutenant JG Melnoka 'Mel' Han'potla & Lieutenant JG Ramat'iklan

1,615 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: A New Frontier
Location: Ramat'iklan's Quarters

The console lit up. The most repetitive noise burst through the speakers. She looked. She knew what it went. Messages. Media requests. Turning in her chair she looked. Within the last 30 seconds about 100 messages had come in. That’s why the noise was so awful.

It must have happened. The new officer that everyone wanted to know about and talk to must be aboard. Why can’t people mind their own fucking business. She looked at the questions. Researched articles that had been done in the past. Most of the questions had been asked. Or she simply replied “no comment”.

Mel enjoyed this. This was her job. Being the gatekeeper to the crew of the postings she served on. She came to the last few questions. She paused. Had the computer analyze these questions. They had never been asked. She also didn’t know. She smiled. Now her next favorite part of the job. Talking to new crew members and helping them formulate their answers.

Giddy, Mel jumped to her feet and made her way to the door. She stopped and spun. “Almost forgot my PADD.” She said to herself. She then quickly made her to way to this crew’s quarters.

Even being such a large ship, it didn’t take her long to make it to Lieutenant JG Ramat'iklan’s quarters. She was excited. He was one of the few Jem’Hadar that left the New Dominion to join Starfleet. The only one in a science field as far as she was aware as well. With a gentle touch, she rang the chime on the door panel.

Ramat'iklan had been in the middle of dinner when the doorbell rang - a plate of Japanese curry with noodles and a fried pork cutlet on top. Delicious. The smell of it wafted out of the room at once as he stood up, opened the door and squinted down at the pretty, young-looking brunette that stood in the doorway. He'd served long enough to know that there was a frankly excessive number of humanlike aliens that she could be a member of; right now, fresh off duty and halfway through dinner, he couldn't honestly care less about which she was. Not that it mattered.

"How can I help you?" He asked, in his typical low, gravelly voice.

Mel's heart lept for joy when the Jem'Hadar answered the door. She had never talked to a Jem'Hadar before. She was suprised that she wasn't more afraid of him. In primary and secondary school, they learned about the Dominion Wars and how the Jem'Hadar were fierce warriors. She did one of her Starfleet Academy papers on Dominion War propaganda and how Starfleet Diplomatic Corps dealt with that. "Hello Lieutenant. I am Lieutenant Melnoka Han'potla, but you can call me Mel. Media Relations Officer. I have gotten a lot of media requests and questions for you. May I come in to go over a few with you?" The Risian's face was glowing with excitment. A smile stretched across her face.

Her enquiry was met, initially, with what could only be described as indifference. Ramat'iklan had known since the day he set foot in his very first medical class that the chance of there being attention put on him was... nonzero, to say the least. He'd come in knowing full well that his decision to walk this path was a groundbreaker, smashing expectations and stereotypes left and right. He'd always thought of it as a sort of eh, whatever - he had nothing left to hide, after all, and it wasn't as if he could divulge anything the Federation didn't already know.

"I see. You may enter." Ramat'iklan stepped aside to let her walk in. When the door had closed behind her, he shuffled over to the replicator. "Would you like anything?" He asked, somewhat flatly. It felt polite to offer, at any rate.

"Peppermint tea, please." Mel said as she entered and walked to the quarters and found a seat in a chair. She set the PADD on the coffee table in front of her.

Ramat'iklan nonetheless replicated for himself a tall glass of what appeared to be a strawberry milkshake, he also ordered her tea and it appeared next to his before settling back down on the sofa. "Questions and requests from the media. I imagine they must be quite... scintillating to read." He deadpanned. "Nonetheless. Please. Ask. I have nothing to hide."

A wave of excitement flowed through her body. Mel accepted the tea and opened her PADD. With a smile he looked at the Jem'Hadar, "Alright Lieutenant. I am very excited to hear the answers as well. This will be very eye opening." She cleared her throat as she looked over the questions and tried to pick the best first one... "Okay Lieutenant... What inspired you to take up medical ethics as a particular focus in your studies?”

"Ah, that. I thought it was important, Especially for someone like myself who comes from a part of the galaxy that cares little for such things. I- hold on." Ramat'iklan raised an eyebrow as he sat down across from her. "...who's asking these questions? How did they get access to my academic records?"

Mel recorded his answer on her table. "Ummm..." she looked at the original message, "Galix Polin, of the Denobulan Medical Journal." She said with a smile, "And I am not sure. I guess they assume all medical officer in Starfleet need to take an ethics course."

"...is that not the case? I assumed it was mandatory for all medical officers to-" Ramat'iklan sighed. Clearly not all medical professionals thought the same of the job as he thought they did. "-no. It is compulsory. For all medical cadets. I am sure of it. My instructors briefed us as such."

"No matter. What else have others asked?" He added, sipping from his drink. He could just imagine the rest of the questions already. If learned professionals posed such lame questions, he could only imagine what those that decidedly weren't that came up with.

Mel thought for a moment... looking through the questions, "Here is a simpler one. I am actually curious about this one." She smiled as she looked back up at him. "What is your favorite book, poem, or fiction work outside of medical or military texts?"

"By the Evening Moon. An Andorian novel. I find their emotional applications quite stimulating." Ramat'iklan said, deadpan, as if he hadn't just mentioned one of the most famous Andorian romance novels of all time. Some had raised an eyebrow when he first mentioned it. One or two went pink and laughed. Ramat'iklan had merely stared blankly at them. People had all manner of odd preferences - so why couldn't he? Talk about hypocrisy.

Mel was intreguied by that answer. She loved a good romance novel. She had read this one and it was quite thrilling. "That is a good book, Lieutenant. I have read it myself." She flipped through more of her questions, trying to find another one. "Here is another one. It's another deep one. Do you believe Starfleet is changing you — your identity — or do you still think of yourself first as a Jem’hadar?”

"I don't see why the two things cannot exist together without changing one or the other. I am a Starfleet officer, and I am also a Jem'hadar who affiliates himself with the organisation. I bring my people's strengths and weaknesses to the table, which shapes the way I practise." Ramat'iklan sipped from his milkshake through a straw - it was possibly one of the least intimidating things his people could do, really, but that's besides the point. "As far as I can see, neither subsumes or changes the other."

Recording the answer, the Risian woman moved to the next, "Here is one that is tied to the last one. Are there aspects of your Jem’hadar heritage — beyond combat — that you feel proud to bring into Starfleet culture?"

"I will not rest till something I need to do is done properly and well. Even if that takes days." Ramat'iklan stated, plainly. "I have adopted this ethic since the day I stepped through the doors of Starfleet Academy and I will hold it close till the day I am dead and buried. Simple as that." He didn't mention that following this ethic had landed him in sickbay from exhaustion before - she didn't need to know that, after all. Not yet.

"Well that looks like all the questions I have." Mel said with a smile. "Do you have any statements you would like me to add to these questions?

"Not at the moment." Ramat'iklan said with a shake of his head. "Hopefully after this I'll have somewhat fewer odd questions directed at me."

“From my experience…” Mel started as she finished her tea and stood up. “…You never know when or what they will come up with next.” As she moved to the door, she put her tea cup into the replicator and recycled it, “Thank you for the tea.” She said with a smile and she extended her hand.

Ramat'iklan shook her hand and accompanied her to the door, as was polite. "You are welcome." He said, much more softly than one might expect from someone like him. "Perhaps in future we will meet again. Though hopefully not for the wrong reasons."

The door open for Mel as she approached, “Yes. That would be wonderful! I hope it’s not with me on a biobed. Until next time Doctor.” The Risian walked out of the quarters with her usual pep in her step.

 

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