Adrian had been in the examination room for eleven minutes, which meant the room had been ready for nine of them. There was very little to prepare for a routine flight physical, even one attached to Blackwatch. The diagnostic bed had completed its calibration, the neurovestibular scanner rested beside it, and the pilot's file was already open on the medical display. Pembroke had left the more elaborate systems idle. If he needed them, he would use them; turning on every instrument in Sickbay merely because they existed struck him as the medical equivalent of shouting.

Pembroke had never objected to risk. Risk came with the profession, whether one was holding a scalpel or flying a shuttle through hostile space. What he objected to was preventable risk dressed up as confidence. He had spent too many years receiving patients after somebody ignored an obvious warning, pushed past a limitation, or decided experience made caution optional. Unavoidable losses he could accept. Carelessness tended to stay with him.

The name on the schedule mattered considerably less than the qualification beside it. **Joker** told Pembroke almost nothing useful about whether the man belonged in a cockpit. Reflexes, vision, cardiovascular response, neurological function, vestibular tolerance and recovery would tell him considerably more, particularly because pilots had an irritating habit of treating medical clearance as an administrative obstacle right up until something failed at several kilometers per second.

He scrolled through the last section of the file and leaned back slightly. Pembroke had no intention of making the examination difficult simply to establish authority, but neither would Blackwatch's need for another pilot lower the standard. Wade could decide who he wanted flying missions; Adrian would decide whether that person was medically fit to do it. If those conclusions disagreed, Wade was welcome to discover how enjoyable that conversation would be.

The chronometer advanced another minute as Pembroke looked toward the closed door. He had heard enough about Joker to expect confidence and considerably less to determine whether that confidence was justified. That made the appointment more interesting than the average certification, if only because Pembroke intended to find anything that might someday turn confidence into somebody else's emergency before it had the opportunity.

When the door chime finally sounded, he closed the file and rose rather than receiving the pilot from behind a desk. "Come in" Pembroke said, already curious how long it would take Joker to decide this was merely a formality.

Following his flight evaluation, Joker was exhausted physically and emotionally, Despite his feelings he'd changed his uniform and composed himself before he made his way up to sickbay. As the doors parted he put on his typical half grin and stepped inside, He turned left and headed into Dr. Pembroke's office. "Good morning doc, sorry I was running late, the simulator ran a little longer than I hoped," he extended his hand to shake the surgeon's.

Adrian raised an eyebrow at being called doc, and didn't return the handshake. The custom was rather old and the pilots reason for being late he wasn't very certain about. However at the mention of it, Pemborke picked up a PADD from his desk and pulled up the evaluation. "Being late can be costly, let's just hope I'm not five minutes late when your life needs saving one day....." He quickly scrolled over the report and motioned to the young man "Please, have a seat over there."

Jaxom took his hand back, and took a seat, "That's a lesson I learned the hard way this morning." His voice trailed as he saw the bloody team member from the simulator flash in his mind. He shook it off and paid attention to the physician.

"It would appear that hasn't fully settled in yet... hopefully it won't take long for you." He walked over to the wall panel and initialized the scan. The heart rate and adrenaline revealed what Jaxom had told him, however he also took note of the end of the evaluation. "You nearly passed out at the end of your evaluation, a diapheretic reaction. How do you feel at the moment?" He didn't turn to look at Joker as he spoke.

Jaxom gave himself a quick once-over, making sure he'd at least grabbed a clean uniform.

"I feel alright now, but after that evaluation, I had to clean myself up."

He looked down at the floor for a moment, a half grin fading, "that psych part kind of got to me. Commander Hale said I handled it, but..." He hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "I still can't help feeling like I choked."

"Everyone has those moments, the bigger thing is how one responds and bounces back from it. While I'm sure it seems I was born with pedigree to dig around inside of a body while blood is going everywhere and not even break a sweat, I assure you that is not the case." Adrian finally turned to face Joker and looked him over before reaching for a hypospray and loading a canister.

He pressed it against the young man's neck and injected the substance. "This should help settle your stomach and allow you to relax. If you don't already have regular counseling scheduled I suggest you do so if you want to keep your job in Blackwatch. I believe that's the case for all of us here."

Looking over the readings again, there was nothing physical that disqualified the young man from his role. "Tell me, how long have you been flying, Mr. Joker?"

He looked up at the Doctor as he injected the hypo. The injection site felt warm, it quickly spread to his chest and back out to his extremities. “Well, I got my class III when I was 17, and then the Syndicate conscripted me for three years. Then Denava Trade College then OCS, so.. 7 years in total, 2 years in Starfleet.”

He figured that the term conscripted was a nice way of saying enslaved, but left it alone. "So it would seem you have a good amount of experience in dealing with the general stress of your job. Or atleast burying it if nothing else." Adrian placed the hypo back onto the tray and then stood in front of his patient, putting his hands into the front pockets of his lab coat.

"You're reaction while perfectly normal, does worry me some in regards to your mental fitness. It's not anything to disqualify you but the stress you're about to take on will be nothing like you've never experienced. I would prefer a course towards a healthy resolution for you instead of putting a patch on it, so I'll place a standing order that you see the counselor at least once after you return from each mission so you have the chance to decompress." He paused for a moment and went back to the cart grabbing another hypo and entering sequence in it.

"As you know everything in there that you are able to share is confidential between the two of you unless its either a breach of protocol or someone is in danger. Think if it simply as a tune up for your mind, just like you ensure your body is physically fit for the role." He handed the new hypo to Jaxom. "Magnesium to help you relax and sleep if you need it. It's none habit forming and the dosage is set. And no side effects."

Just in speaking with him there was a level of anxiousness he'd picked up on.

Jaxom preferred the idea of a simple mineral supplement to help him relax and sleep. Gone were the days of stims to keep him up and drink to help him sleep. The Syndicate did not have a very robust health and safety mandate for slaves. "Thank you, I really appreciate it Doc..tor Pembroke," Jaxom finished addressing Adrian fully this time.

Adrian didn't show any reaction to the what was said, he simply continued to observe Jaxom for a moment. "I don't see any need to waste either of our time further unless you have questions for me. Stay focused on your health and your training and you'll do just fine. I'm sure I'll see you on the transport."

Jaxom stood up and straightened his uniform and smiled his crooked smile. “Yes sir, and thank you again.” Being cleared by medical for flight was more than a formality for him. It was a stamp of approval that brought him a step closer to flying a real mission and proving the faith placed in him.

"Very good, Ensign Dane." Pembroke wasn't one much for goodbyes, they always seemed a bit awkward to say especially when one was about to begin working alongside the other. He just worried if the young man was going to be able to hold up under his role, and not get them all into something they couldn't get out of. But Joker wasn't part of the medical staff so he refrained from being quite so critical of him, at least for the moment. Only time would tell what their relationship became...