USS Vesta

A Play-by-Nova roleplay game.

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Everything All At Once

Posted on Wed Jun 1st, 2022 @ 4:51am by Commander Martin Sorenson & Commodore Yoshi Minawara & Captain Ewan Darrow & Commander Jonathan Mantell

Mission: Between Realities
Location: USS Vesta, Medbay
Timeline: Immediately after 'Fissures' and 'Start It Up'
1644 words - 3.3 OF Standard Post Measure

"Doctor..."

"I'm fine, Ziks," Martin assured, shoo-ing her off as he moved - albeit a little slowly - to the next patient. Okay, 'fine' was a relative term; he would feel this tomorrow, but he was healed enough to function and in much better shape than all the people in here who needed him. He'd finished with the man Jek'Lar had recovered and was pulling up the diagnostic scan on a burn case when emergency transport effect immediately caught his attention. That attention was fully taken when he realized who it was.

Rush-hopping over, Martin knelt beside the XO, scanner in hand. "Ewan, what happened?"

"Well it started on the bridge after we were all thrown around," Ewan started as he attempted to move only for the pain to shoot out from his shoulder like a knife to his back. Gritting his teeth he continued on "I thought I just sprained it, no turns out it something worse and to top it off I left my tea behind." He looked up at the doctor before motioning towards his shoulder with his head, "My shoulder that is."

"Yes, a bit worse than a sprain," the doctor confirmed checking the medscanner. "The shoulder's separated. You really should know better," he admonished as he signaled for the medics to get Ewan to a biobed. The eyeroll from Ziks did not completely escape Martin though and he offered Ewan a smile. "Though I suppose being deprived of tea should be lesson enough."

"Its, not the tea itself its the mug actually, Allison gave it to me and if she finds out I lost it and didn't listen to her I'll be dead," Ewan said with a sigh before he set his jaw for the medics to grab hold of him and lift him up. "Might as well take the moment to get a status report from you. What's the status of the crew so far?"

"You're just saying that in the hopes that 'Do No Harm' will keep me from telling her," Martin accused jokingly, as he helped get him settled on the bed for treatment. "Status is 57 wounded, 10 serious," He mouth twisted downward a moment. "One dead." Focusing on the task at hand, he administered a hypo for the pain before aligning the shoulder to fix the ligaments. "Fortunately, this is not life threatening. So long as Allison doesn't hear you ignored it."

The doors behind hissed open before any further quips could be exchanged and the exhausted frame of Yoshi pushed through, accompanied by a snarl at the nurse too close attempted to have him pause a moment. The top of his coveralls hung loose around his waist, and in his arms in the dirtied top he'd been wearing before was wrapped around the small frame of Jack. The boy engineer was held tight in Yoshi's arms as he slid the boy onto the first empty med bed he found, before pivoting around he looked over at his two next senior officers, an almost feral concern caught on his face before he could bring himself back to the moment, and the fact he was still a Commanding Officer. "Jack needs a doctor," he said almost flatly, in contrast of his appearance.

"What happened?" Martin asked for second time within minutes, but with a great deal more alarm. He left Ewan, confident after the last however long they'd been in crisis mode that another medic would quickly step in to take over, and hurried to where Jack lay. Not even waiting for an answer from Yoshi, he began a diagnostic scan. His expression went from surprise to uncharacteristically dark. "...radiation poisoning? Dammit, he should have been treated for this already!" The physician's fists briefly clenched in a flash of hot anger, but it was pushed aside in the face of the emergency in front of him. "20cc arithrazine," he snapped to the nearest nurse. "And start a hyronalin drip."

Cold was what the boy named Jack noticed first, as the warm arms underneath left him cold and alone on the biobed. The unforgiving surface made the Miran child squirm, squinting as he opened his eyes to the harsh, medical-grade lighting of Sickbay. Which may as well have been just another room to the boy, until a familiar dreaded face appeared in his vision. Jack pressed himself against the bed, recoiling against the man running a tricorder over his body, feeling a tightness in his lungs closing in on his throat. "No, no shots." His face was growing red and wet, blood already ran from his nose as fearful tears leaked from his eyes to join them. "I'm not sick," the sobbing boy protested, "no please, not the doctor!"

"Whatever it was, I think it was exasberated by the slipstream start up," the Commodore said, stepping out of the way, though a little quieter than he would normally, as his own engineering mind tried to solve the problem. It clearly wasn't a radiation leak, there would be signs elsewhere in the ship, not the least of which the Commodore himself would be experiencing. "He was a little sickly, but said it was because he hadn't eaten much, the nose bleed gave away that that wasn't true." There was a moment where the man had to steel himself, and force the mask of command back across his face. Finally, as if only just noticing for the first time, he looked back at Ewan, giving him his own questioning look that came as a cross of annoyance and concern.

"You are sick, Jack," Martin said gently as he administered the arithrazine. It always hurt a little when someone had this reaction to him, as if he was some kind of monster, rather than someone genuinely wanting to help them, but all he could do was try to be reassuring. "I'm going to do everything I can to make you better."

Ewan shoved the medic that had stepped in after Martin had hobbled over to Jack out of the way as he pushed himself off of the biobed he had been sitting on. His shoulder was only partially healed but that didn't really matter at the moment. Ewan knew that Jack had always had an aversion to Martin, some children had always had one to doctors and dentists anyone that poked and prodded them with random devices. He hadn't known just how bad it was. Now Jack was acting as the true frightened child that he was both in... well sort of age and mentality.

Moving over to the bed that Jack was on, Ewan pushed past Yoshi and saddled up against it. Reaching down he put a hand on his head and began stroking Jack's head. Letting out soothing sounds he got low closer to his level. "Hey now, its okay. Its okay Jack you're going to be okay."

"It hurts!" The boy protested the dozen hands descending upon him, each with their own questionable intentions. He tried to fend them off with hands that could do much more than reach the invaders. A hypospray shot through his skin, and he howled a new, pitiful whine at the drug coursing through his system. Jack couldn't fight back, nor could he form the words to scold these medical attackers. He could barely breathe, his tight chest working overtime with shallow, quick breaths. The blond boy sobbed into a merciless void, his cries going unanswered until a gentle hand began to touch his head. A calm voice radiated over him, speaking words of meaning into Jack's feverish mind.

"I don' wan' i'!" His words felt thick and hard to form, fighting against the drugs, the discomfort, and the calm hand stroking his hair. Whimpers plagued the Miran boy as much as the medical attention, flinching from the experience of memory at the hands of another doctor in another time. Jack's hands grasped at air, grabbing desperately for something of himself to hold onto any longer, one last-ditch stand against the inevitability of doctors. His last, plaintive whine faded out with one single breath. "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"

"Because I don't want you to die," Martin blurted out, voice hitching on that last word. He swallowed, mentally rebuking himself. He was supposed to be better than this; one death, no matter how recent or wrong, was no reason to abandon bedside manner. Taking a breath, he fell back into patient clinical explanation. "You're suffering from severe radiation sickness. I do not want to hurt you, and I'll try to be as gentle as I can, but left untreated ...there could be serious and lasting damage."

Ewan reached up and grabbed one of Jack's flailing hands, holding it tightly as he continued to stroke his head with the other, "It's okay Jack, deep breaths now okay? In," he paused for a moment as he continued to stroke, "and out. Martin isn't going to hurt you, he's a friend. You're sick, you need help. I know you don't want it but you will just get sicker, we're all here just for you okay? Just focus on my voice, in and out."

The boy fought against the words that sounded so wrong in his head. Jack was centuries old, and still barely more wizened than a ten-year-old. Disease and injury were old friends, and survival was in his very bones. He whimpered against the spectre of death, that haunted other people. Not him. The Miran child closed his eyes against the tears that leaked out, sobbing quietly now that his words had failed him. The gentle hand on his head stemmed the tide of tears, and the guiding voice slowed the sobs, until hiccups overcame the boy's small frame. His commotion subsided as the boy focused entirely on one need: air.

And somewhere still out of reach for the fading consciousness of Jack today: survival.

 

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