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[Active] - Chapter 1 - Cardassian Duty

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Eaglesg, Tue 13 Mar, 2018 7:59 PM
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  1. Ares Commanding Officer

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    #61
     –  Last edited by Asteropax; Sat 05 May, 2018 1:13 AM.
    USS Ares
    Deck 11


    Ian Locke skidded to a halt just outside of Classroom 2. Word had just come from the bridge that communications had been lost in the classrooms. He had spent his fair share of time with civilians on Betazed and understood how important it was for the crew to have families on board. There weren't very many ships in Starfleet which accommodated a full time civilian population. It was somewhat lucky he was in a position to take care of the situation here since this was also the same deck as the ventral phasers on the saucer. He took a moment to access the area.

    "Computer, open the door to Classroom 2," he instructed the computer. There was no response from the computer and the door remained shut. He slammed his fist into the door hard in frustration. Whatever happened to good old doors with hinges that you could open in an instant? The drum of footsteps made him glance down the hallway opposite where he'd come and saw four security officers coming over towards him. He pointed to two of them, "You and you; go to the other classroom. You two help me force this open."

    As the officers went off to follow their instructions, he placed his hands on the seam of the doors and began heaving with all his might to get it open. The two people who were helping him worked on each side of the sliding door. It wasn't moving like it should, ordinarily it would only take a few moments to pry it open. The only explanation he could think of was that it was stuck on something. The three of them were finally able to open the doors wide enough for him to see inside and it was alarming. A structural beam was wedged against the doors, preventing them from opening it all the way. There was just enough room though for him to squeeze through and get to the children.

    Locke looked around. There was a small fire on one side of the room which was filling the room up with smoke. He was momentarily relieved to see the kids were practically all curled up along the wall opposite the flames and moved over towards them. Their eyes were filled with fear but each of them looked relieved to see someone there to help. He looked over each of them quickly and counted each one. Seven . . . eight . . . nine. He knew from a schedule he saw before checking on the cargo bays earlier that there should be ten kids and their teacher in this classroom. He turned at a bang and saw the other officers had managed to shift the beam enough for them to get the door the rest of the way open.

    "Get these kids out of here!" be barked at them. The two began ferrying the kids one at a time to get them outside the room to safety. Someone in a blue uniform was outside waiting for them. There was no time to waste in taking care of the children. He looked along the floor, ignoring the smoke, to find the missing child and the teacher. He took a guess and headed closer to the flames, near the opposite end of the structural support which had jammed the door. There they were, a little girl and an adult human woman, unconscious near the flames. He couldn't afford to check on either of them right now so he quickly waved over to a third security officer who'd just entered, "Ensign, over here!"

    The Ensign scampered over to him and he lifted the teacher towards him, "Take her outside."

    "Yes sir!" he replied as he hefted the woman up and hurried out. Locke carefully lifted the girl up and carried her to safety. After they were outside, he set her down gently and immediately had a medical officer next to him with a tricorder to check on her condition. He wanted to help but would only really get in the way.

    The two other officer whom he'd sent over to Classroom 1 had just come back. One of them grabbed a pair of fire suppression units and went into the classroom to put out the fire. The other spoke to him, "The comms were down there but everyone was alright. We came back here to see what else we could do to help."

    "Good. Do a head count; there should be ten children and their teacher here," he commented just before a shriek made him get up quickly. He managed to grab a panicked woman who was likely the mother of one of the children. Her gaze was firmly set on the unconscious child and was trying to fight her way through him to reach the girl. He rapidly thought of something, anything, to try to calm her down, "Easy, Ma'am, you have to stay back so the medical team can work."

    "Gracie!" she screamed, ignoring him.

    "Ma'am! She's in good hands and she'll be fine but you'll get in the way. You need to stay back," Locke gestured for one of the other officers to help keep the now growing cluster of parents back, "They're all in good hands and will be alright. Please stay back so the medical staff can help your children."

    He kept hold of the mother who'd rushed to see her child to try and comfort her. The other worried parents listened to him and clustered nearby, starting to chat to each other. He could tell from their tone that between R'Turan's public disdain at the crew and their children being injured that they were all afraid. Since he was going to be a father soon as well he understood perfectly what they were going through. He spoke with Carol just after the skirmish to confirm that she was alright. There wasn't much else to do except stand there and watch as the girl, Gracie, was getting treated by . . . Mell?

    ((TAG: Mell White, Allan Hood))
    OOC: I was asked by Allan to have something specific come up with his kid.
  2. SFA Executive Officer

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    #62
    USS Ares
    Bridge

    He addressed the Lieutenant at the Operations Station, "Lieutenant Gytaik; Contact security to assist in reestablishing contact with that section of the ship. Inform the medical teams of this as well just in case."
    “Already on it, Sir!” Oma answered, glad that at least one member of the crew knew how to address a Bajoran correctly. “We have damage reports coming in from all over the ship. Aside from communications being out on that deck, there doesn’t appear to have been any structural failures. Medical reports that triage teams are enroute. I’ve taken the liberty of despatching damage control teams to that deck as well.”

    As she worked on collating damage reports and co-ordinating repairs, Oma took time to think about the First Officer's tirade that he had just aimed at the crew; she felt it was completely uncalled for and made a mental note to give the Caitian a wide berth when they weren’t on the bridge together.

    The comm beeped…

    “Security report they have reached the classrooms; no fatalities but they are reporting that there are injuries.”

    ((Tag: Anyone on the bridge))
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  3. Ares Executive Officer

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    #63
     –  Last edited by Allan Hood; Mon 18 Jun, 2018 7:18 AM.
    USS Ares
    Deck 1 - Bridge

    Hood called out to Commander Dyrell Teriir, accidentally letting the apprehension slip into his voice. “Commander Teriir, do you have a status report on the classrooms, sir?” Hood gripped his chair, restraining himself from bolting toward the turbolift.
    "I have not received anything," Teriir answered calmly. He quickly turned to take action to prevent anyone from panicking at the news. He addressed the Lieutenant at the Operations Station, "Lieutenant Gytaik; Contact security to assist in reestablishing contact with that section of the ship. Inform the medical teams of this as well just in case."

    He looked around, letting his gaze reassure the other officers on the bridge for a few moments. As he turned to go to the ready room, he looked back to Hood, "They'll be alright. Kids are tougher than we give them credit for."
    Hood was running across the bridge at the commander's initial response. He caught Teriir's words of truth and comfort as the turbolift doors closed.

    Before dinner, Allan offered the traditional prayers, after changing out of his uniform to civilian clothes. Sami-Jo sat across from him with Gracie on his right and Baby Donna on his left. Each named after Allan paternal and maternal grandparents.

    “Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam hamotzi lehem min ha’aretz. Blessed are You, Adonai our Eloheinum, Ruler of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.”

    “Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam borei p’ri hagafen.
    Blessed are You, Adonai our Eloheinu, Ruler of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.”

    “Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam borei p’ri ha’adamah. Blessed are You, Adonai our Eloheinu, Ruler of the universe, who creates the fruit of the ground.”

    “Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam shehakol niyah bidvaro. Blessed are You, Eloheinu our Eloheinu, Ruler of the universe, at whose Word all came to be.”

    “But, Daddy, this is from the replicator; it’s not from Earth or vines or the ground. Why don’t we mention the replicator that really created it?” asked six-year-old Grace after her first bite of corn.

    “That’s a good question, with a long answer,” began Allan.

    “Oh, no…” Gracie responded, catching a smile and a headshake from her mom.

    “The carbon, nitrogen and oxygen atoms in our bodies, the Earth, the ship, and what’s used in the replicator, all came from stars that existed a long time ago, it’s all the same. We’re all made from stardust. Through the replicator, it’s not from Earth or vines or the ground, but, all of those all contain the same stardust.”

    “‘We are a way for the universe to know itself,” Allan quoted Carl Sagan. “Some part of our being knows this is where we came from. We long to return. And we can, because the cosmos is also within us.’ Remember, ‘and the Adonai Elohim formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the Breath of Life; and man became a living soul.’ That’s the same dust that came from stars, too.”

    Gracie thought about it for a moment.

    “So, shouldn’t we say, ‘stardust’ instead?”

    “I’m going to have to learn how to say that in Hebrew,” Allan laughed in agreement with his daughter. “That’s a good point. How’d you get so smart?”

    “I get it from mommy,” Gracie replied honestly.

    The Hood family started eating replicated steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn and bread with red wine synthehol. Green beans and corn being Grace’s favorite, though she wouldn’t eat her green beans.

    “Why do you keep asking for green beans and not eat them?” asked Gracie’s father. She had eaten in this fashion since she was a baby.

    “It makes the corn taste better, but they’re not that good,” Gracie admitted with emphasis on the ‘that.’


    USS Ares
    Deck 11 - Classroom 2

    "Gracie!" Sami-Jo Hood screamed, ignoring him.

    "Ma'am! She's in good hands and she'll be fine but you'll get in the way. You need to stay back," Locke gestured for one of the other officers to help keep the now growing cluster of parents back, "They're all in good hands and will be alright. Please stay back so the medical staff can help your children."

    He kept hold of the mother who'd rushed to see her child to try and comfort her. The other worried parents listened to him and clustered nearby, starting to chat to each other. He could tell from their tone that between R'Turan's public disdain at the crew and their children being injured that they were all afraid. Since he was going to be a father soon as well he understood perfectly what they were going through.
    Hood ran up, pressing through the crowd of parents standing and searching for their children. He relieved the security officers from restraining his wife, taking over himself. He tried reassuring her that Gracie probably has some smoke inhalation, but that’s it, not seeing any obvious signs of trauma on the surface, at least. Baby Donna looked scared in her mother's arms, looking at the crowd and smelling the smoke.

    While holding his wife and youngest daughter, Hood reached out with his hand to Ian Locke to shake his. "Thank you very much for risking your life for my little girl. We're forever in your debt. Elohim bless you."

    TAG Locke, Angus
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    #64
     –  Last edited by Allan Hood; Sat 12 May, 2018 7:52 PM.
    USS Ares
    Deck 5 - Sam's quarters

    An hour has passed since the attack and Sam sat at a table in his quarters, eating a hoagie he got from the replicator. He spent the intervening time fixing his anime statues back on the shelves. Thankfully, none of them broke. He had two data PADDS in front of him, looking over some notes he had from Intel concerning the attackers. Sam started to get a slight headache and thought to get it checked, since he cracked his head open earlier. So, he got up and headed for the turbolift.

    USS Ares
    Sickbay

    It took him only a couple of moments to get to the medical bay. It looked like it calmed only slightly, so he approached one of the unoccupied nurses.

    - I recently wacked my head on a bulkhead an just starting to get a headache.

    ((TAG T'Mor))
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    #65
    USS Ares
    Deck 11 - Crew Quarters



    Christopher tossed his uniform into the cleaner and sat down upon the couch with a heavy sigh. Prepping the medical supplies had taken him longer than he thought it would but he now knew that they had everything stowed away, even if it had taken hours longer than planned. Now for some very well deserved rest.

    "Computer, ice cream, blueberry twist. Activate wall display and play Frank Capra's Its a wonderful life." The replicator hummed into life and deposited a bowl of horrifically blue ice cream onto the plate. "Umm, computer? What is this?" he asked.

    *Blueberry twist ice cream, as ordered* came the response.

    "So why does it look like somebody put an Andorian into the freezer?"

    *Unable to respond*

    "Never mind." Christopher flopped onto the couch again as the film began. He was asleep before he had eaten half the bowl.

    The Yellow Alert had startled Christopher out of his slumber and he was standing before he knew what he was doing. Melted blueberry ice cream flowed down his shirt and trousers.

    Uttering blistering curses, Christopher dashed into the washroom and stripped himself of his, now very blue, off duty clothes. He dressed quickly, grabbing a fresh uniform from the closet and was about to pick up his medical kit from beside the door when the explosion ripped through the ship.

    USS Ares
    Deck 11 - Makeshift Triage area


    It has seemed like hours. That was the thing that Christopher remembered. Time had seemed to crawl along with patient after patient being brought to the triage area. Christopher had worked quickly, doing what he could with what he had so that main sickbay didn't get swamped. Calls kept coming in to him, crewmen asking for help and advice, calls that he couldn't ignore.

    =^= Crewman Saunders to Cushing =^=

    Christopher tapped his commbadge, searching his memory for a name. Crewman Saunders worked on this deck somewhere. "Cushing here, go ahead Saunders."

    =^= Doc, I'm here with Jeremy, I mean Petty Officer Tybal, we're trapped and he's hurt. =^=

    "Easy there Saunders," Christopher finished applying BurnGel to his patient and quickly wrapped the man's hands in bandages, "what's wrong with Tybal?"

    =^= He's unconscious and his leg is broken real bad. =^=

    "OK Saunders, look, what's your name?" Christopher urged while moving to his next patient.

    =^= Penny =^=

    "Alright Penny, do you have a tricorder or a med kit nearby?" Christopher asked.

    =^= No. =^= came the very small reply, =^= Doc there's so much blood. =^=

    "Penny I need you to listen to me very carefully," Christopher began, "we're going to get a team to you but I need you to look after Jeremy while they're on their way. Can you do that?"

    =^= Yes =^=

    Christopher frowned. She was obviously terrified and he needed her to focus. "Penny, I'm going to talk you through what to do for Jeremy. First I need you to tell me where the blood is coming from."

    =^= From the broken leg, Doc =^=

    "Ok, now I'm going to need you to set his leg in a makeshift splint. Just straighten his leg and then bind it to his other leg. Use your jacket if you need to. Then we'll work on the bleeding." Christopher tried to sound soothing.

    USS Ares
    Deck 11 - Some time later


    Christopher sat on a stack of boxes and breathed deeply, wiping the sweat from his brow. The casualties had finally stopped coming in and were now going straight to main sickbay. There was no time to dwell on what had happened, there were still other people to help.

    Tapping his commbadge, he stood and started to walk to the nearest Jeffries tube. "Cushing to Sickbay, Deck 11 triage is clear, do you need any help down there?"

    ((TAG Hems, T'Mor))
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    #66
    USS Ares
    Bridge



    "I understand how important it is to ask for the crew to improve on their performances but what you did just now was all but demoralizing," He began crossing his arms as he did so, "They performed admirably; Carrying out the Picard Maneuver at a moment's notice, the Tactical Synergy operation was done in a time which rivals my own, and there have been zero fatalities reported. Yes, the ship took some damage. Yes, people have been injured. The captain is in sickbay but he would want us to be carrying our heads high. It is rare for ships on their first mission, the first day of their mission, to even have a hostile encounter. Everyone did their duty and have been doing more than just that."

    "What you did was take everything they've been doing and only taken into account the bad things we've had today. I'm no counsellor but I've had my fair share of seeing people getting hurt, even killed, so I know what's going through a lot of minds right now," Teriir leaned up against the table and tapped his hand against the desk on his last two words, "Having comrades and friends getting hurt is one thing; having your Captain, your leader, getting wounded is another. It's a blow to morale in any situation and now the first officer all but announced that the crew is to blame for it. You're supposed to stand for the crew in any situation and you have ignored their needs. You've put your own emotions before those of the people who you're now in charge of. Your statements were uncalled for and unnecessary."

    "Until Captain Wilson is better, you're the Acting Captain. Your first official action was to create distrust amongst the crew," he paused for a moment to let that sink in before continuing, "You can have your problems with the crew and share those concerns with other members of the senior staff. Not on the bridge and never over a shipwide broadcast!"

    He narrowed his eyes and stared emotionlessly at Commander R'Turan, waiting for his response.

    ((Tag: Hood, Gytaik, R'Turan))
    R'Turan's yellow eyes would flash with anger before he stood up and turned around, facing the wall, ears flattened on his head, a soft growl emanating from him. After a few minutes, he would turn around again, guilt lining the Caitian's facial features. The commander would click his combadge and again open a ship-wide comm-channel, before speaking:

    "I shouldn't have done it. You're right, and I apologize for what I said. To you, and all members of the crew, I apologize. I am acting captain until captain Wilson returns from sickbay, and I will try to keep morale high. As you said, commander Teriir, the captain would want us to carry our heads high, but that does not mean we should be overconfident. Again, I profoundly apologize for my harsh words, both to you and the entire crew."
    R'Turan held the short speech before closing the channel. His yellow gaze was still focused on the tactical officer before him, unblinking, unmoving, simply staring at the Trill. After a few seconds, the Caitian would speak again.

    "Commander Teriir, I want you to hold combat-drills, for I want the crew at full combat-readiness, this isn't the only time we'll encounter hostile ships on this mission. Do you have any tactical or moral advice you can give me?"

    ((Tag: Commander Teriir, entire ship. No need to all respond to it, just acknowledge that you've heard it.))
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  5. Ares Commanding Officer

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    #67
    USS Ares
    Bridge


    R'Turan's yellow eyes would flash with anger before he stood up and turned around, facing the wall, ears flattened on his head, a soft growl emanating from him. After a few minutes, he would turn around again, guilt lining the Caitian's facial features. The commander would click his combadge and again open a ship-wide comm-channel, before speaking:
    Teriir waited somewhat nervously as the Caitian thought about his statements for a minute. Usually, turning your back on someone meant you were dismissed in a rather rude manner but he remained where he was because there was no way he was going to back down. He made sure to hide his emotions when R'Turan turned around.

    "I shouldn't have done it. You're right, and I apologize for what I said. To you, and all members of the crew, I apologize. I am acting captain until captain Wilson returns from sickbay, and I will try to keep morale high. As you said, commander Teriir, the captain would want us to carry our heads high, but that does not mean we should be overconfident. Again, I profoundly apologize for my harsh words, both to you and the entire crew."
    R'Turan held the short speech before closing the channel. His yellow gaze was still focused on the tactical officer before him, unblinking, unmoving, simply staring at the Trill. After a few seconds, the Caitian would speak again.

    "Commander Teriir, I want you to hold combat-drills, for I want the crew at full combat-readiness, this isn't the only time we'll encounter hostile ships on this mission. Do you have any tactical or moral advice you can give me?"
    For a moment, he was taken aback. He wasn't expecting R'Turan to be agreeable so quickly after blaming the crew, nor was he believing there would be an apology so soon. Although having a few minutes to clear one's mind always helps to resolve just about any issue. Teriir gave a slight smile to express his approval, "We have a lot of young, relatively inexperienced officers on board but also have no shortage of veterans. The newcomers will learn from them very quickly. I think it's safe to say half of the command staff have fought in the Dominion War. I'll get combat-drills going in a few days. The crew needs some time to recover physically and mentally from the most recent action."

    Teriir sat down in one of the chairs and crossed his arms, "Just so you know, the first time I ever saw combat was back when I was a Cadet while the ship I was assigned to, the Icarus, was traveling to the front lines just after being commissioned. We managed to destroy a pair of Jem'Hadar Fighters but suffered two fatalities; a cadet and our first captain. Our first officer, Vel'tor, had to assume command afterwards. Feels like I've experienced what humans would call Deja Vu today with Captain Wilson being injured."

    ((TAG R'Turan))

    OOC: Heads up: I've just graduated from college and my family has announced we're going on vacation to Los Angeles in celebration! We're leaving Friday and will be back in a week.
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    #68
     –  Last edited by Scarlett; Thu 17 May, 2018 7:46 PM.
    USS Ares
    Deck 1 - Bridge


    R’Turan’s shipwide comment dropped like a bomb on the bridge. Even not being a true empath, A’Mand could tell everyone was stunned. It was duty-of-the-moment that kept everyone moving and re-shifting mental priorities, including herself.

    A’Mand quickly debated action, and there were several options available, until-

    [Teriir] stepped away from his console and slowly approached R'Turan, stopping only when he was just out of arms reach. He glared at him for a split second before speaking again, not bothering to hide his anger, "I would talk to you in the ready room. Now."
    Hearing Teriir's words, R'Turan would swivel around and enter the ready room…
    Watching the two of them disappear into the Ready Room, A’Mand further questioned if it was her duty to follow them. The crew was only hours into their mission and faced an incredibly stressful situation. Although some of them had surely dealt with inter-ship combat, the rest had not. Also, personalities had yet to be known and cultured within Ares. The bonds each of the crew members had to each other and the ship was based solely on training and duty, but nothing else. Everyone needed more time.

    After a full second, she decided to let the Officer’s work out the situation. In order for professional and personal connections to develop, the crew would need to make them, not be guided into them.
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    #69
    OCC: Before I start I would just like to apologise for my absence, I have had a lot on my plate recently but not fret I will be getting back into action!
    USS Ares,
    Deck 16

    Tapping his comm badge, he stood and started to walk to the nearest Jeffries tube. "Cushing to Sickbay, Deck 11 triage is clear, do you need any help down there?"
    Angus was fixing a twisted ankle when the communication came in. Poor boy, he was so excited to test himself in battle that he wasn't paying attention and tripped over a collapsed steel beam. Powering down his Duretonium Scanner and passing it onto a nurse he taped his comm-badge while walking back to his office

    =^=Hem's here, good work with the triage centre, it took a lot of pressure off us in Sickbay. We are almost done down here but we could always use another hand. =^=


    Hems closed the communication just as his First Aid team came through the Sickbays main entrance, all of them looked exhausted as they dragged their feet to the types of equipment locker. Angus walked over to them.

    "Good job you lot, without you, I'm not sure the captain would still be breathing right now... take the rest of the day off... you deserve it,"

    The team thanked the captain with a sigh of relief except for Mell.

    "Sir... I would still like to help out?"

    "I appreciate it Ensign but there's really no nee-"

    "Sir, please!"

    The CMO thinks for a bit, then sighs as he gives in.

    "Okay... you can go check up on the Bridge and Engineering, after that you are dismissed for the rest of the day... understood?"

    Mell smiles back as she peels the last bit of equipment off her shoulder and grabs a Medical toolkit. Thanking the CMO before speed walking out the door. Angus watched her go before strolling back into his office to write a rather long combat report.

    (TAG: Welshavenger)
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    #70
    USS Ares
    Deck 5 - Sam's quarters

    An hour has passed since the attack and Sam sat at a table in his quarters, eating a hoagie he got from the replicator. He spent the intervening time fixing his anime statues back on the shelves. Thankfully, none of them broke. He had two data PADDS in front of him, looking over some notes he had from Intel concerning the attackers. Sam started to get a slight headache and thought to get it checked, since he cracked his head open earlier. So, he got up and headed for the turbolift.

    USS Ares
    Sickbay

    It took him only a couple of moments to get to the medical bay. It looked like it calmed only slightly, so he approached one of the unoccupied nurses.

    - I recently wacked my head on a bulkhead an just starting to get a headache.

    The nurse nodded silently and ushered him to an open bed, to which she started scans on Sam's head.
    - Well, it looks like you had a mild concussion. A hypo should alleviate the pain until the damage heals naturally. I recommend you stay off duty for a day. if the headache comes back, I'll have the CMO take a better look at you.

    Sam nodded and took the hypo. The headache lifted immediately. As he was about to leave, R'Turan entered.

    ((TAG NESTA))

    OOC: Repost & slight edit. Original post got buried.
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    #71
     –  Last edited by Allan Hood; Mon 28 May, 2018 12:49 AM.
    OOC: Response to buried post
    USS Ares
    Sickbay

    It took him only a couple of moments to get to the medical bay. It looked like it calmed only slightly, so he approached one of the unoccupied nurses.

    - I recently wacked my head on a bulkhead an just starting to get a headache.

    The nurse nodded silently and ushered him to an open bed, to which she started scans on Sam's head.
    - Well, it looks like you had a mild concussion. A hypo should alleviate the pain until the damage heals naturally. I recommend you stay off duty for a day. if the headache comes back, I'll have the CMO take a better look at you.

    Sam nodded and took the hypo. The headache lifted immediately.
    Allan Hood looked over at Urquhart with envy. A simple hypospray and Urquhart's headache was gone. Gracie's coughing and nausea continued, with some vomiting. She kept slipping out of consciousness. In her waking hours, she was confused about where she was, sometimes thinking they were in their quarters and other times back on Deep Space Nine. Sami-Jo took Donna back to their quarters due to all the excitement, not wanting to leave her side. With Hood off duty, he switched watches with his wife.

    “Mr. Hood, Gracie's suffering from burns to the nose, mouth and face,” began the nurse, “she's having difficulty breathing and has some carbonaceous sputum, burned saliva. We have her on a mechanical ventilator. We're using humidified oxygen, bronchodilators, suction, and chest physiotherapy. We're starting inhalation therapy with nebulized heparin and acetylcysteine. Due to the carbon monoxide we've detected, it's complicating her condition. We've already administered supplemental oxygen. Next, we'll use hyperbaric oxygen therapy and keep her overnight for evaluation. She should be fine by tomorrow.”

    “Thank you, nurse,” Hood responded, striving to keep his emotions in check while hearing both the diagnosis and prognosis. Hood comforted himself with the knowledge that he was surrounded by state-of-the-art, 24th century technology. Hundreds of years ago, Gracie would have been more danger and in the hospital for weeks.

    After the nurse stepped away, the father and chief science officer aspects of him combined and he began his own scans with a nearby medical tricorder, verifying the nurse's findings.

    “You'll be all better soon, Gracie,” Hood whispered quietly and silently vowed to Elohim that he'd fast until she recovered, even though he did not have an appetite, considering everything that has happened, recently. “Restore to Gracie the joy of Your salvation, and uphold her by Your generous Spirit.”

    TAG Urquhart and Angus
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    #72
    USS Ares
    Sickbay

    Sam was about to leave when he noticed an officer standing next to a child, lying on a bed.[[OOC: I assume?]] He approached the officer.

    - Hell of a time for an attack, eh?

    ((TAG Allan))

    Sam nodded and said,
    - I know. Oh, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Sam Urquhart. The diplomatic officer
    He extends his hand in friendship and greeting.

    ((TAG Allan))

    OOC: We can go on until number 1 kitty (LOL) comes in.
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    #73
    USS Ares
    Sickbay

    Sam was about to leave when he noticed an officer standing next to a child, lying on a bed. He approached the officer.
    - Hell of a time for an attack, eh?
    "Yeah, it is," Hood said chuckling to himself, first time since the attack. "I don't think anyone expected to see any action so soon."
    Sam nodded and said,
    - I know. Oh, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Sam Urquhart. The diplomatic officer
    He extends his hand in friendship and greeting.
    "It's good to meet you Mr. Urquhart," Hood responded as he shook his hand. "I heard we had a diplomatic officer on board. We're probably going to need you a lot when we make contact with these colonies. Did you choose this assignment or was it selected for you? How'd you come to be a diplomatic officer?"

    TAG Urquhart
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    #74
    USS Ares
    Sickbay

    "It's good to meet you Mr. Urquhart," Hood responded as he shook his hand. "I heard we had a diplomatic officer on board. We're probably going to need you a lot when we make contact with these colonies. Did you choose this assignment or was it selected for you? How'd you come to be a diplomatic officer?"
    Sam thought for a moment, then said,

    - I chose this one. I asked SDC for an interesting assignment, since the Klingon Ambassador that I was working for was retiring soon. This seemed very appealing to me, so I took it. As for me becoming a DO, I was actually in Starfleet Academy, but left after four months. It wasn't my taste, so I went to CBU and took diplomatic studies. That took me to SDC as an intern. When I graduated, I got assigned as a junior diplomat on Andor.

    Sam smiled at the mental image of him meeting Akyv for the first time.

    ((TAG Allan))
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    #75
    USS Ares
    Jefferies Tubes


    Christopher was squeezing himself through the access panel of a Jefferies tube when the reply came in.

    =^=Hem's here, good work with the triage centre, it took a lot of pressure off us in Sickbay. We are almost done down here but we could always use another hand. =^=
    Tapping the dirt smeared badge upon his chest, Christopher replied, "Understood, be there in a few minutes."

    There was a lot of debris in the corridors of the ship and some of the turbolifts weren't working on Deck 11 so Christopher climbed up the ladder to Deck 10. Popping out of the hatch, Christopher noticed a man in a gold uniform limping towards him, his face and uniform covered in dirt and blood. Rushing over, Christopher put his arms around the man's shoulders and supported him while steering him towards a working turbolift. The man didn't seem responsive when asked his name so Christopher decided to just get him into treatment. The doors of the first turbolift hissed open part way, enough for Christopher to shuffle himself and the man, an Ensign by his rank, onto the lift's floor.

    "Sickbay, fast as possible.' Christopher instructed.

    Seconds passed as the lift sped towards its destination. Christopher lifted the man onto his shoulders and all but raced out of the lift and along the corridor to the main Sickbay.

    USS Ares
    Main Sickbay



    Scanning the room quickly, Christopher rushed to an empty bed and gently deposited the Ensign down upon it. Grabbing a medical tricorder from the table next to the bed, Christopher scanned the Ensign for injuries. A broken ankle, some burns that would need treatment but none of the blood seemed to belong to him. 'A question for another time.' Christopher thought. Pressing a hypospray to the Ensign's arm, Christopher could see the man's shoulders relax as the pain was washed away on a tide of chemicals, his eyes remained unfocused, gazing into the distance. Christopher turned to the surgical tray to retrieve an osteoregenerator which was the moment the Ensign chose to sit bolt upright and start screaming.

    OOC: No Drama here, just getting Chris into place in main sickbay.
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