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Zhaan Robie

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  1. Her arrival on Starbase 118 was heralded by several 'lasts' - last off the shuttle, last through incoming processing, and last to procure quarters. She didn't mind at all. After fifteen years of training - first pre-med then medical school on Betazed, a three-year residency in San Francisco, and then the Academy, Zhaan had long ago learned to enjoy the moments. And this was certainly one to be savored. She strolled along the Promenade, taking in the ebb and flow of the minds around her, adjusting to the base's own unique voice. A bolt of rich blue-green brocade caught her eye and she stopped for a moment, remembering the wise doctor in San Francisco who, during her first months of residency when she feared she'd lose her mind, had helped her learn to adjust to the din of the undisciplined minds around her. There had been a pair of wing-backed chairs in his office, upholstered in this exact shade, and she had sat in them, more than one night, fighting to subdue the cacaphony in her head. But that had been seven years ago and now, she was much better at managing the daily ebb and flow of life among the non-telepathic. At 5'5" and 119 pounds, she wasn't by any means physically imposing and her kind, compassionate nature radiated both in the merry sparkle of her black eyes and through her body language which was generally open and relaxed. Her dark hair, typically straight unless she found the time to do something with it, hung to just belong her shoulders and framed a face that had been called lovely by some and kind by others. People sometimes underestimated her, seeing only the gentle Betazoid and completely missing the sharply perceptive intellect. She continued her walk, moving at a leisurely pace, as she searched for somewhere to eat. Not that she had any problem with replicated food. She was a doctor and that meant she could eat just about anything and when there wasn't time to eat, could exist for many hours on Raktajino alone. No, it was more that she enjoyed the slow pace of eating a meal that someone prepared by hand. It was a treat. Something to be savored in these last hours before the next test, the next hurdle to be jumped on the way to her first goal. She had wrestled in her mind with the decision. She could work out, as a long-time practitioner of Tassa'Akai, she got a lot more out of the training than just physical exertion. She could reach out to her parents back on Betazed. She could go through the most recent medical journals on her padd. There were many reasonable, needful things she could do but in the end, she chose to spend these moments in quiet. Just eating. She found a place with seating on the Promenade and sat down. The waittress came over at once and Zhaan waved away the menu. "Just bring me your house specialty," she said and then added, "and a cup of Raktajino." The waittress nodded and headed back to the kitchen. Zhaan turned her chair so that she could watch the passersby. She was dressed in her Starfleet uniform, Comm Badge in place and her Akai tucked inside her jacket; truth was, she felt naked without a medical tricorder and a data padd near at hand. Because that had been her life. Studying, training, practicing medicine. Getting ready for the great adventure. She put all of that aside and focused instead on the moment, on all the colorful aspects of life surrounding her.
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