From the Ashes - Part 2

Posted on 20 Sep 2014 @ 9:39pm by Lieutenant Robert Williams & Commander Karen Myles & Lieutenant Amia Jaxx & Lieutenant Kordah Himars & Lieutenant Caleb Gray
Edited on on 20 Sep 2014 @ 9:41pm

1,749 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: M12: For Duty or Honor
Location: Sickbay

Kiscad stood without ceremony, or any words. He didn't look to anyone, but he simply strode towards the exit. He saw a few others milling about, a man on the transmitter still trying to call for help... This planet was poison and it wouldn't let anyone call for help... He vaguely heard shouts but his ears were blown, he couldn't hear anyone... Instead he chose to walk towards the precipice, about two hundred yards away. Its view of the desert valley was once captivating but for Kiscad the joy of life had abandoned him. The Dead were stacked all around...

He stood at the edge after a long walk, no thought in particular coming to him or staying, simply a white noise as the universe unfolded around him. He tried to find peace, to see the peaceful calm in the staggering size of the cosmos but the waste all around him anchored any ambition to escape. After what seemed an eternity he looked down again, the fall was several hundred feet, much more if he got a running start. But these thoughts didn't go through his head. Random, simple, unguided misery had overtaken him and that chaos would deliver him. He took a step-

He jolted awake, his mind still trapped on the planet below. He would be in that hell for some time in his thoughts and dreams. He just wished to that or any other hell that he had died. Various alarms tripped at his return to consciousness, and Kiscad panicked at first as he had never seen a Prometheus class starship or its sickbay. The site of Starfleet uniforms put him at ease but he struggled against the bio-bed, he had to do something, couldn't be confined! He wound up hitting the point where the containment field kicked in while he struggled to get off the bed. He cried out for anyone to hear...

Wallace took the Reman by the arm and returned him to a bio-bed and call out for a nurse. "Keep him on that bed!" As the Reman was physically ok he returned to those that had serious physical injuries.

~Make it stop! Make it stop!~ Amia's mind screamed, the emotions in sickbay were overwhelming her. She leaned over the bio bed and was sick. Sprocket laid beside her, trying to comfort her but she could barely recognise his presence. "Please..." Amia gasped, her body went rigid, and she couldn't close her mind.

Caleb had managed to make his way to one of the walls where he could just lean against it and observe. While part of him wanted to try to help the girl with the head wound, he wasn't qualified for more than emergency field medicine and most times that wasn't really even all that up to par. More like cauterizing wounds with a phaser or wrapping up a wound in a bandage. Anything that would get him by until he could get proper medical attention. Kind of like now. Sure he had blood all over him, but the majority of it was Klingon and Reman. His own wounds were mostly superficial considering the fact that he had made a point to avoid as much conflict as possible when the enemy attacked. Thankfully Lady Luck had come up aces for him the past few hours. Not only was he able to hide among the bodies of the dead until after the attack was over, but a Starfleet vessel was close enough to save him from baking on the surface of the planet when the night ended. All in all a good day. Well, he did lose the ship he had used to get to the camp in the first place. Chances were he had just burned up all his favors with Yruf'kin, but there wasn't much he could do about that now. With any luck he might be able to get Starfleet to reimburse him for the loss. Regardless, the spook folded his long coat over his forearm and watched as people far more capable than he was took care of the injured. In the end it was going to be far better if he stayed out of the way and watched until the triage was complete. Unfortunately, being a bystander was apparently not an option.

"Uhhh doc...? Looks like this one is having a seizure," Caleb remarked as he closed the distance between himself and the Betazoid with the puppy. Narrowing his eyes a bit Caleb bit his lip as he determined whether or not it would be a good idea to remove the dog from the situation or not.

"...10cc's anetrizine." Hearing the call from behind him he whipped around to see that the man was right a quick scan of her bio-readings let him know what was wrong. As a betaziod she was suffering from a severe sensory overload that with the added stress of having been attacked she needed a mental break. While there was no way to block telepathic input he could treat the physical side of thing. He called out, "5 cc's synaptizine," and as he did a hypo was slapped into his hand and he injected into the woman's neck.

Krodah, laid there listening to his surroundings, with his eyes shutting out the world in which sickbay was currently. He was no use to the doctor and her staff. However, if asked he would help as best he could, which, was Klingon in nature. Which, cutting off an arm or leg, bolting an metallic patch over an lost eye, was still top of the line medicine for the Empire, but for the Federation medicine, that type of cure, was seen as barbaric. Krodah, just lay there, listening and to be with his own thought.

He had time to dwell on his past and what had transpired on the planet. He didn't know how many people were lost or survived. What he did know, before he blacked out, was helping send out an signal to the Federation. Yet, for some reason, he recalled seeing fair skin woman, with long flowing blonde hair keeping him safe from harm. He thought of what his father told me about the Prophets and wonder if the woman he had seen, was just an image of the Prophets or an glimpses into the future. yet, he still had time to think this over and several other topics that came up as he laid there on the bio bed in sickbay.

Compared to the starship she had served on before this sickbay was tiny, with only this many patients the room felt full. Karen was accustomed to room to work. Most of these people were suffering sleep deprivation which was only making any other maladies worse, the lack of proper food had also began to show its symptoms.

"Anyone without physical injuries is to be taken to be given a mild sedative and treated for malnutrition." She said hoping to get some of the people who didn't need to be in there out of the way.

Wallace, finishing with his patient, acknowledged the instruction. "Roger that." Pointing to the new arrivals that were on their feet, "All of you follow me into the corridor."

Kiscad remained in sickbay, a series of injuries and the bio bed restraints saw to him staying put. But he was catatonic on an emotional level as well and not willing to interact. He had heard rumors of another Reman recovered but for him one life reclaimed did nothing to remove the bleak hole that had been torn in his life.

By his estimation unless a few hundred were saved his species was doomed to extinction. He doubted a thousand of his people remained unless colonies had formed elsewhere inside the Typhon Pact. They would likely never gather... it made him want to weep but those tears had long since been cast.

Krodah opened his left eye lid and looked towards the person who spoke All of you follow me into the corridor. He didn't like being in sickbay for he felt as if he was gold bricking and taking up space from those that truly needed an bed and to see the medical staff. He slowly rose up from the bed and looked to Wallace and dressed him.

"Does that go for me as well?" Krodah asked

Looking over to the man asking the question, "Yea that means you too."

'Thank god' Krodah's Klingon half state as he rolled himself out of the bed and followed Wallace

Caleb raised an eyebrow at the doctor's orders, but quickly dismissed it as pressure mounting from the conditions of the other patients. Without complaint the man in black followed the man who pointed at him. There was no reason not to do so. Medical drama wasn't really his thing, after all. Besides Caleb wasn't exactly sure where he was short of a Starfleet vessel. Learning more about his surroundings would go further than waiting for a group of people he had just met get well. As they reached the corridor the spook decided to take the opportunity to speak again, "I understand you have your orders, but truthfully what I need is a shower and a clean set of clothes. After that I wouldn't mind talking to someone who could answer a few questions for me." And maybe compare some notes. "So if you could lead me to one of those nice little guest quarters these ships have I would appreciate it. I can grab something to eat from the replicator when I need it. As for the sedative... well let's just say you would be better off having a security team shoot me with a phaser than to get me to take one of those. Although I have to warn you, I might just take a few of them to lala land with me if we go that route, so let's just make this easy for all of us. Shall we?" Caleb raised his eyebrows a couple quick times and added a hint of a smile. He knew that he had come off a bit demanding, but it had been awhile since he had dealt with Starfleet protocol and after the day he had, patience for bureaucracy was not really on his agenda.

Wallace looked at the officer smirked. "Well I can't assign quarters but..." He paused as the Admiral, XO, and a Marine walked smartly past them and into the sickbay.


TBC

 

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