Cassidy sat at her desk, appreciating the return to normalcy after the adventures on the Exeter.  It was the first full morning back. The pile of PADDs on her desk were exhibits of why she should have stayed aboard the station.  She had started to work through them when her door slid open, and a nervous-looking Ensign Geraldine Parker stepped through the door.  Parker had an unusual amount of confidence for an ensign, and to see her in this state gave her pause.  “Ensign Parker?”

She handed over a PADD, “We’ve got a situation.  A half hour ago, an engineer presented with what looked like a collapsed lung.  The hospital staff put him through triage and started addressing the lung…”

Montgomery read as she explained and stopped her, “The second lung collapsed?”  She read on.  It didn’t get any better.  “This looks like it’s headed to a full systems failure.”

Parker curtly nodded, “They notified us as a precaution.”

She stood, “Who’s next up on the board?”  She had instituted a system in case of emergency – there was a rotating list of doctors who would work a case with her. Each of the physicians was exposed to serious cases working with Cassidy.

Parker said it with a side of amusement, “Lieutenant N’Vea.”

Cassidy allowed the amusement to slide, “I’ve worked with her on her review back in May.  She’s got what it takes.  Have her meet me in critical care.”

Doctor N’Vea was waiting patiently in critical care when Doctor Cassidy arrived. It was unusual that she was called there; the more important seeming jobs had fallen to other doctors. She had assumed that it was who Doctor Cassidy trusted, as it was only logical to rely on doctors that you were familiar with in a crisis unless a certain specialization was needed. 

The Vulcan nodded as her boss entered, “Doctor Cassidy, how may I assist you?”

Cass motioned her along as she handed over a PADD and described what she knew so far.  It wasn’t much.  “He’s been stabilized, but vitals are showing a cascading of unusual symptoms.”  They arrived at the room where the Chief Shift Resident stood, his eyes full of concern.

“Here’s the latest.  We’re working to stabilize the sudden onset dehydration.”  Montgomery accepted the PADD and listened as the full rundown was given.  The irregular heart rate had just started moments ago.

Doctor N’Vea scanned the document. It was as the other woman had said, a patient clearly suffering from dehydration, but there seemed to be more going on than just that. It looked like a unique case.

The Deputy Director shook her head, “Medical mysteries abound, even in the 25th century.” She slid a phlebotomy cart towards her, “You do a full panel – from top to bottom.  I’ll take the physical and tricorder scans.”

“Have we already drawn the necessary fluids, or should I handle that as well,” Doctor N’Vea asked. She did not mean to suggest that it was beneath her to extract fluids from the patient, however if they were suffering from a lack of fluids the medical team should be judicious in not over drawing from the body. 

Cass held up the rapid IV infuser she was working on, “We’re going to need a fresh panel. Whatever is happening is happening fast.  We’ll keep the good stuff going to prevent issues with what we’re taking out.”  She quickly attached it to the patient and snagged a tricorder.  There was much to be learned in a short amount of time.

Once N’Vea had the needed fluids, she sat down, donned gloves and a face mask, along with an even more protective lab coat, and began her studies. The Vucan used various tools to distribute and study the liquids as she went.

Cass frowned at the tricorder.  The patient’s body temp was slowly climbing, indicating a fever response.  The twin lung collapse wasn’t helping.  She slipped an intubation unit off the exam table with one hand while her other scanned the lungs.  Both were nearing full collapse despite the treatments the staff had given.  “I’m going to have to intubate to keep the lungs inflated and working.”  She gently mounted the unit over the man’s mouth, activating it when it had indicated the correct placement.  It took twenty seconds of waiting, but the oxygen readings returned to acceptable limits, and the lungs held form.  Cass began the careful physical examination.

Though they were being careful and taking appropriate measures in terms of keeping the patient isolated and ensuring he was not likely to infect anyone else N’Vea wondered if more extreme measures should be used, though for now she believed that they were being cautious enough. It was just after seeing her former crew all become Borg via a kind of signal and infection via transporter she was no longer confident in tried and true methods. Quickly things could become serious out here so far from Vulcan.

”I’m running tests do you feel that we should increase his isolation at this point?” she asked, not wanting to push for it considering the idea was likely an illogical one on her behalf.

The Deputy Director of General Medicine had given many responses to that question in her career.  Some had been mistakes in deciding against it, and others had saved an entire colony or ship.  What was happening now was wildly all over the map, and it felt like it might spin further out of control the longer the clock ran.  She decided to try and get the metaphorical ship on some recognizable course.  “Let’s all be Boy Scouts and be prepared.  Lock it down.  Now.”  She moved to the console and tapped in the commands that would engage the isolation protocols within the room.  The patient’s vitals were in the balance…and something had to be done.  She looked at her doctor, “Well, now there’s no getting out.  Let’s run those samples and see what we can find out.”

”I am not familiar with your Boy Scouts, but Vulcan’s are always prepared,” Doctor N’Vea answered evenly. The reading made little sense but they were alarming. Knowing humans found the statement that something that was clearly happening was ‘illogical’ annoying she refrained from making it. As little sense as the readings made it was happening and they would just have to adapt. 

Now in isolation, she knew that the best thing to do was remain calm and look for logical courses of action. 

“I believe our social plans for the evening are canceled,” N’Vea said, attempting something a human might find to be levity. 

Cassidy was amused at the joke, “I do like that you think I have social plans on this station, Lieutenant.   Let’s get those reports and see what we’ve got on our hands.”