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Part of USS Denver: Mission 3: War is War

Medical Emergency

Sickbay, USS Denver
March 6, 2374 08:30
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Elbow to elbow sickbay was at capacity. The walking wounded were being turned away to head to the mess hall where nurses would take a closer look at them. Less severe cases were simply sent back to their posts throughout the ship. There just wasn’t the medical staff to treat every bump and bruise.  

However, those that needed immediate medical attention were seated and laying all over sickbay.  Every spare space where someone could be placed… they were. Doctor Lorsa had joined the crew shortly after the refit at Starbase 75 and now she was being thrown headlong into the fire.  

She ran her tricorder over an engineering officer whose leg had been shattered in several places after a fall from someplace. It was ugly looking and bleeding pretty good, but not immediately life-threatening. She pressed a hypospray against his neck to fight infection and ease the pain.  She stabilized the wound and used a foam medical spray to stop the bleeding.  “I’m sorry Chief, but I can’t do much more than this at the moment.”  

She waved down an orderly, “Take him to the cargo bay.”

“Yes Doctor,” he responded and enlisted another orderly for help and they assisted the engineer out of sickbay only to be replaced by a new patient.  Efe sighed, This is going to be a long day.

Seong stared into a monitor suspended above a patient as her hands moved expertly inside of his open chest. She held an auto-suture in one hand as she placed stitches on the inside of her patient’s chest.

“Wipe,” she ordered as sweat flowed down her forehead. A nearby nurse caught the droplet on a gauze pad and then proceeded to wipe Seong’s forehead.

A hand came down on her shoulder. “After you finish here take some downtime.”

“You know I can’t,” she retorted as she looked at the second shift Doctor.

“Commander you have been performing admirably for the past several hours, and thirty patients. Let someone else take over while you get some rest.”

Seong knew that she was starting to feel exhaustion and nodded. She looked at the nearby nurse. “Close this chest.” She then stepped off of the operation platform and headed for the nearest door. She entered shortly thereafter into the officer’s lounge.

Efe examined the next patient.   There was nothing short of a full surgical suite on a Starbase that could save him.  The whole front of his uniform was a charred and bloody mess.  There was an unfortunate fact when it came to triage, and that people you might be able to save might take up so many resources and time you end up losing several other lives to preserve one.  And this was a bad case, and he was a long shot even out of an emergency.   Loading a hypo spray she injected him with a strong dose of pain killers and the orderlies carefully carried him out of sickbay.

There was no time to dwell on the situation and she dove back into the crisis for the next fifteen minutes.   Sweat-soaked, blood-stained, and smelling of various bodily fluids Efe stumbled into the officer’s lounge.   Seeing the CMO already there Efe went to the replicator and replicated two raktajino’s. One for herself, and the CMOs. Collapsing on the couch across from Seong she set her Commander’s drink before her and took a sip.  

The Bajoran cocked her head suddenly.   There was silence.   The stars were motionless in the window.  “It would seem Doctor that we survived today’s round with the enemy… more or less.”

Seong looked at the woman that sat a cross from her and then her eyes drifted down to the steaming mug on the table.

“Don’t let this lull in the combat cast you into a sense of comfort,” she stated as she leaned forward and retrieved the mug. She then took a long draw from the Klingon coffee and swallowed, allowing the heat to permeate her worn-out body. 

Seong had seen her fair share of combat before joining her husband aboard the Denver. She had seen what this lull in combat could do to even the most veteren of crew members. ‘A false sense of hope that only remained for a moment to be dashed upon the explosions once more,’ she thought to herself as she looked into the darkness, knowing that somewhere close was their enemy, their harasser, and the cause for so many in pain, and death.

“That is almost poetic,” Efe said contemplatively.. She sipped her own coffee and sighed. “I heard a human say once ‘war is hell’.. I couldn’t agree more. If I were religious I might pray to the Prophets for protection.”

“War isn’t hell doctor. It’s where you go on leave,” Seong stated as she took another sip. “Enough about this day. I would like to know more about you, Efe.”

Doctor Lorsa took her CMO in for a moment before before speaking,  “Not much to tell to be honest.   Born on one of the Bajoran Colony worlds during the Occupation.   My family bribed a Laurian trading captain to smuggle us off the planet where we ended up on some Starfleet station.   From there my parents were offered asylum and we immigrated to Michigan where I grew up.  It’s sad, but I identify with humans more than my own people.  My parents and all their Prophets stuff always seemed weird to me.”

Lorsa checked the chronometer.  Her break was over. “Time to get back at it.  See you around Doctor.”  She reluctantly stood an headed back to the chaos of trating patients.