Three figures clad in standard issue EVA suits, materialize in the center of primary sickbay, causing the duty nursing officer to look up from the examination reports they were auditing.

“We need to get him on to the primary biobed and out of that suit please, sir.” Lieutenant Baird instructs, knowing full well the complication potential from such an extreme procedure in less than ideal circumstances was fairly large. Getting the patient into a more controlled environment would do much to cut down the risks and aid in the management of the condition and begin the recovery process.

As such the medical lieutenant was moving the moment he became whole again. Pacing towards the main surgical area, hand up to his own neck area, searching for the latch that keeps the headpiece in place. A glance over his shoulder, catching sight of his stocky captain dipping slightly and hefting the patient onto and over his shoulder into what was commonly called a ‘fireman’s carry or lift’, then trotting along in his wake.

“On here, sir, as quickly as possible.” Baird kept his comment concise but respectful, despite having ultimate authority in this setup, the medic was mindful of dealing with a command level officer who had just gone the extra mile. “Ensign, get over here. Prep a hypospray with an oxygenator compound, to inject close to the wound site.” He called the duty officer, who changed tack and crossed first to the medical replicator. The computer had picked up the medication request and displayed three options for consideration, from which the duty nurse selected the more Andorian friendly options, and crossed into the surgical area.

Baird had just removed the headpiece, deposited it on the floor by a bulkhead, and was removing the gloves when he witnessed his captain lower the patient onto the biobed. This was done with care but quickly, the Bolian then moved around to the top and began unlatching the headpiece, and pulled it away with similar care and speed, pacing all the way back to the bulkhead.

“Thank you, sir.” Barid said in genuine gratitude. “We can take care of him now, there is precious little you can do down here. But the bridge will be needing a guiding hand for the return trip, me thinks.” The medic added, while loading a hypo with one compound and proceeded to inject the lieutenant. “Dermal sampler as well. We’ll need to graft a little I think.” Directing his last instruction to the nurse, who had readied a second hypo to be used instantly.

All Hands in system warp jump.

“Charank. Stay with me! Keep them eyes open!” He barked, in instant response to both a gurgle groan from the patient and an audible alarm from the monitoring systems in the bed, just in case the former had not been enough to prompt action. “Shock effects are kicking in. Cortical stimulator on the forehead, please. Prep a mid-range setting.” He directed his nursing assistant, his voice hurried but calm. Out on his peripheral vision, his captain paced calmly towards the exit, headpiece in hand. Right now Baird was hoping for a smoother transition to underspace this time around, particularly with a critical patient already on the main bed, time would tell.

“Okay. Shock.” He directed, once vitals had dropped and remained flat. Eyes dropping onto the prone unconscious Andorian, connecting with the person, the yearning to save rushed upon the experienced doctor.

“Once more.” Another pause, another moment of hope. This time rewarded with an uptick in vital signs. “Hypo please. Then get those EV pants off. We need to sample skin from the leg to graft to the amputation site.” Cool direct orders, further accented by the soft accent common to the Scottish highlands of earth, Baird had never been a shouty doctor, firm and direct at times but not shouty, in truth his professions stressful moments were enough to deal without adding to them.

Any form of warp speed within a planetary system was fraught with complications, having to hit a mark and a theoretical one at that, just made the prospect that bit riskier. Yet here they were doing just that, the streaking starfield currently displaying on the viewscreen evidence of that fact. The swish of an opening door caught Eviea’s attention, causing her to look in the direction of the turbolift, a heavy set pair of off lower legs was all she could make out through the postbox view, between the command chair, the executive chair and the arching frame for the tactical console behind.  

“Approaching the deceleration point, four seconds from Mark.” Came the report from the helm officer. The starfield snapped back to normal, pinpricks of light in the blackness. Then the image on the viewscreen began to change. A slow rotation began just off center of the view, then space within began to shimmer and wane, this became more pronounced until it was clearly not a trick or fault of the sensors. Then the shimmer split apart, black at first, then reds, yellows, browns, oranges, deep greens, it swirled into what could best be described at the mouth of a cave system suddenly opened up in front of their vessel.

“All hand brace for Underspace threshold.” The rich, baritone voice of her Captain filled not just the ear of those on the bridge, but the echo quality told of the general comm broadcast that had been enabled. Eviea glanced over and upward acknowledging the arrival, to her right Wren was already out of her seat, according to the usual formality, but Eviea knew her captain, the task was not complete, “The ship’s still your commanders.” Vilgi added, reinforcing and teaching that understanding.

“Ops, external dampening on full, slave an specific aux power module to help maintain field strength.” Eviea followed up, reading off her personal display, counting the kilometers in her mind while running a checklist of readiness procedures.  

The ship jolted visibly and noticeably, as they crossed into the mouth of the aperture, leaving normal space behind. Behind a small crack told of a minor overload. The lighting dropped, red alert lighting began flashing along with the usual klaxon, an electronic threshold had also been crossed, and the computer followed its programing.

“Helm watch the tail.” Wren called forward, both displays indicating the rear of the ship pitching up gradually.

“Station keeping thrusters, three second burst.” The Ensign responded loudly, likely because of uncertainty, hands working over the controls quite rapidly. “Another three second burst. Bow ventral thrusters firing.” Her report came, this time more level. “Attitude stable, sir, course heading?” Final report, with a slight head turn, nerves and self awareness plastered across their face.

“Reduce speed to one quarter.” Vilgi directed, moving from his standing position around to the command area. “Wren, I believe you had us a way home. If you would oblige.” His movement and this particular direction was a cue to move positions. Wren gave up the second chair and made for the Ops station, the relief ensign vacating it.

Eviea stood, paced forwards, paced sideways, stopped. Looking at her approaching captain square in the face with an inquisitive yet kindly look, trying to gauge his mood or reaction to events. There was a concerned, yet reconciled look about him.

“You made it back.” Eviea commented with no small sense of relief.

“You two make quite the pair, my ships in one piece.” Vilgi committed, deflecting the remark for the moment, perhaps when they were in private he might be more open to share his true experiences. “Let’s get back shall we.” He added with a note of finality.