Working out the Knots

Posted on Wed Oct 14th, 2026 @ 8:32pm by Captain William Abernathy & Lieutenant Mahkato Elkhorn DAOM, MD

1,887 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Echoes in the Triangle
Location: USS Arcadia | Sickbay

Entering sickbay, the first thing Captain William Abernathy noticed was that it had been rearranged from the last time he had been there which was not all that long ago, but Doctor MacDonald's name had been removed, pending a permanent replacement as Ship's Chief Physician. In the meantime, Abernathy, impressed with Dr. Mahkato Elhorn's surgical prowess and saving K'Var had offered the man a place on his starship. Ultimately, this meant that Elhorn was interim Chief Medical Officer. When they did find someone to replace Oscar on a more permanent assignment, Abernamthy planned on having Elkhorn remain as Assistant Chief Medical Officer.

Bill Abernathy had not expected to walk into Arcadia's sickbay and see a complete change in the layout, nor the addition of what appeared to be a massage table was considerably less dignified than the captain’s chair or the standard medical bio beds he was used to seeing in Sickbay. The massage chair looked partially inviting yet also simultaneously a torture device.


The second was that Dr. Mahkato Elkhorn had apparently decided dignity was not part of the treatment plan. "You're right on time, Captain Abernathy" Elkhorn said appearing behind Bill. The sudden appearance and voice had caused Abernathy to quickly turn. It was rare that anyone or anything got the jump on a career security and tactical officer turned Captain.

"I said I just needed something for the headache," replied Bill. "I didn't request a spa day. I have to be back on the bridge. We're in the middle of a real--"

“Relax," interjected Mahkato. He raised his hand swiftly. "Breathe. Relax. Lie down" he added gesturing towards the massage table. "You came for an easy bandage. A quick hypospray of drugs to numb your mind. This is my prescription for you."


Abernathy was annoyed. Apparently, he would need to have a discussion with this physician about patient care. He exhaled through his nose.
“I am relaxed.”

"You are distracted," replied Elkhorn who used a quick Suus Mahna maneuver to drag the Captain over and onto the bed, face down. Doctor Elkhorn's hands pressed firmly against the captain's upper back. “Your are tense" he assessed.

Bill tried to role over, but was met with more resistance than he expected. Elkhorn did not look strong, but he was quite firm in pinning the captain down. Muffled, Bill replied “I assure you—”

“You're holding your shoulders three centimeters higher than they should be, Captain. That is not something that develops in a few hours of being on the Bridge" stated Elkhorn.

Abernathy opened one eye and glanced sideways at him. “Three centimeters?”

“Approximately," countered Elkhorn. "I'm not a computer."

“That sounds unnecessarily precise even for a physician."

“You're the one who chose to become a starship captain. I chose to become the person that fixes starship captains” Elkhorn said as he pressed his hands into the Captain's body like shaping pottery. There was a faint smile in Elkhorn's voice.

Abernathy closed his eye again. Sickbay was abnormally quiet except for the low, almost imperceptible hum of the instruments and computers. Beyond the wide viewport, stars lingered, reduced to distant points of white against the darkness. Stars that weren't where they were supposed to be. Abernathy suspected that some modifications Elkhorn had made were soundproofing Sickbay further.

The captain had been aboard long enough to stop noticing the vibration of the engines beneath the deck plating. Tonight, however, he could feel every frequency of them as Doctor Elkhorn worked on his back. The physician had allowed him up momentarily to change into something more beneficial to Elkhorn's work, a towel.

Bill laid back face down on the massage table, a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His uniform had been folded with almost absurd precision on a nearby chair.

Elkhorn had noticed that, too. "You folded your uniform.”

Bill grunted. "Of course. Doesn't everyone?”

“You're receiving a medical massage," commented Elkhorn.

“I am aware," replied Bill. "You expect me to disrobe and just discard my uniform?"

“You're not required to maintain uniform regulations while nearly unconscious on a massage table.”

“I wasn't nearly unconscious when I folded it.”

Elkhorn chuckled. His fingers pressed firmly along the muscles beside Abernathy's spine. The captain's breath caught.

“There," said Dr. Elkhorn. Abernathy's fingers and toes curled against the edge of the table. "What was that?!"

“That's is a knot. A knot is..."

“I know what a knot is, Doctor." Quipped Abernathy.

“Do you?” countered Elkhorn.

“Yes!" snarled Bill as Elkhorn worked the knot more aggressively.

“Because you seem surprised that I discovered one.” Abernathy said nothing.
Elkhorn worked slowly, deliberately, following the tension from the captain's shoulders toward the base of his neck. He wasn't particularly gentle, but neither was he careless. Every movement seemed calculated, informed by anatomy and years of experience.

“Your trapezius is remarkably tight,” Elkhorn said.

“I'm the Captain. I've been busy.”

“That is just one explanation of many, but I have one in particular in mind,” Doctor Elkhorn said as he started to work lower on Abernathy.

“What is your, Doctor?”

“Bill, you do not sleep nearly enough.”

Abernathy opened his eyes again. “That is speculation. Bill? Are we on a first name basis now, Doctor?”

Elkhorn smiled. He moved his hand lower. "I'm several inches from your ass, Captain. Forgive me if I am a little relaxed."

Bill laughed. “And you did not even offer me dinner first, Doctor, but point taken."

Doctor Elkhorn continued on with Captain Abernathy's massage. "Sir, you've had four hours and twenty-three minutes of sleep on average for the last six days.”

The captain stared at the bulkhead ahead. “Wait...you've been monitoring my sleep?”

“I'm your starship's Interim Chief Physician.” replied Elkhorn.

“You're my interim chief physician aboard a starship of over a hundred people. You have other patients, Doctor.”

“I do," he replied. "As you stated, Captain. There are well over a hundred members of crew aboard. Two hundred to be more precise."

“Then perhaps you should concern yourself with them.”

“I am.” Elkhorn's thumbs pressed into another particularly stubborn knot. Abernathy's eyes closed immediately. “And you're one of them.”
The captain was quiet for several seconds.

“That wasn't an appropriate use of medical authority. Monitoring my sleep habits like that, Doctor. I like some privacy.”

Doctor Elkhorn stopped massaging the Captain's back. “Would you rather that I inform the first officer that my expert opinion and orders will be that you require additional undisturbed rest.”

Abernathy opened his eyes. “You wouldn't.”

“I am your Interim Ship's Chief Physician. I absolutely would, Bill.”

The captain's expression hardened. Elkhorn smiled. “There's the problem.”

“What problem? asked Bill.

“You're incapable of accepting a direct order when you're not the one giving it.”

Captain Abernathy was taken aback by the assessment. “That is not true. I am a career Starfleet officer. I have served under several of the finest men and women to have worn the uniform, and I have never once disobeyed a direct order. I have fought in several wars, and have commanded some of the best and brightest.”

“Really? You've never gone against orders?”

“Never," quipped Abernathy.

Elkhorn waited. "Not even Doctor's orders?"

Abernathy sighed. “Perhaps... somewhat, but those are different.”

The doctor's hands moved toward Abernathy's shoulders again, kneading away the accumulated tension.
For several moments neither spoke. Abernathy just let the man work on his knots.

Then Elkhorn said, “When it comes to your health, Bill, Doctor's orders are as good as an Admirals, and you've been carrying something since the last mission.”

Abernathy's expression changed almost imperceptibly. “Everyone has.”

“I'm not talking about everyone. I am talking about you specifically, Bill."

The captain looked toward the exit. Could he make a quick escape for the door, yes. Would it be tactical? Maybe, but it would also be incredibly embarrassing. Doctor Elkhorn had Bill in a very compromised position and he was wearing a towel, only a towel.

Doctor Elkhorn grabbed the Captain's uniform and tossed it further across the Sickbay into a bed. "I know a runner when I see one. Someone was injured under your command."

“Three people were injured," Abernathy stated.

“Yes, but one of them nearly died.”

Abernathy swallowed. "We had the information ad training necessary to prevent it.”

“Did you?”

“We should have.”

Elkhorn have a non-verbal, unconvinced audible resonse. “That isn't the same thing.”

The captain's jaw tightened. “I made the decision. It may have been thr wrong decision. Lieutenant K'Var suffered for it."

Elkhorn moved around the table so he could see Abernathy's face. "You're doing it again.”
“Doing what?”

“Reconstructing the event until you can find a version where everything becomes your fault.”

Abernathy finally rolled over and stared at him. “That sounds remarkably like psychology.”

“I minored in Psychology.”

The captain's mouth twitched. “Of course you did. When you were pre-med?"

"Chemistry and Psychology, Captain."

Abernathy nodded slowly. "Interesting. Lanna will pleased about that."

“You're changing the subject.”

“I was appreciating the irony.”

“You're terrible at being a patient.”

“so, I've been told.”

Elkhorn returned to the captain's shoulders. "Bill.”

Abernathy went still. Almost nobody called him that aboard ship. It was Captain Abernathy or just Captain. There was something disarming about hearing it now. It was the tone the man had said it. So casual.

“You don't have to carry every mistake your crew makes" Elkhorn stated.

Abernathy's gaze remained fixed on the room.
“They're not mistakes the crew made. They were miscalculations that I made when giving orders. Good people were hurt. They bear the pain and agony. I shoulder the responsibility and consequences.”

Elkhorn's hands settled firmly against his shoulders. “You are responsible for making the best decisions you can with the information available to you. You are not responsible for possessing information you didn't have.”

Abernathy breathed slowly. “I should have known better. I should have anticipated Klingon deception, and we should not have been thrust into a chase and rescue mission."

Dr. Elkhorn grunted. “You were told to put personal history and biases aside, to trust the Klingons. Some betrayed that trust, but not all Klingons are like that. Some do want this peace.”

Abernathy stopped resisting. Elkhorn continued massaging the muscles at the base of his neck.
“You've spent your entire career believing preparation can eliminate uncertainty,” he said. “It can't. No matter how carefully you plan, eventually something happens that wasn't in the plan.”

“I know," replied Bill Abernathy.

“Knowing isn't the same as accepting. You know that, but do you accept it?"

The captain was silent.

Elkhorn's voice softened. “You're tense because you think if you remain tense enough, vigilant enough, disciplined enough, you can make sure it never happens again" he said as he pressed harder into the Captain's muscles.

Abernathy considered that. Then, quietly, he said, “Can you blame me?”

"No," replied Doctor Elkhorn. His hands slowed. “But I can tell you it's hurting you.”

The captain closed his eyes. For the first time since he'd entered the room, his shoulders began to descend.
Not much. But enough. Abernathy breathed out. The captain allowed himself the smallest smile.
He simply laid there and breathed. Dr. Mahkato Elkhorn kept working the tension from his shoulders until, little by little, the captain finally let himself become something other than the man responsible for everyone else

 

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