Attack of the Cormite Microrunners
Attack of the Cormite Microrunners
Summary: Hera's C.O. loses a miniature battle with a Cormite Microrunner, seeking triage from the Genesis Sickbay.
Date: 120 ACH
Related Logs: Related Logs None

Sickbay Genesis - Deck 13
121 ACH 23777 Souls

The medical facility is large enough to hold a few dozen beds. Each bed is set with a curtain for privacy, a chair near the bed and any monitoring or medical aids needed. A nurses desk sits at the front near the hatch and a surgery area, Medical Officers area and supplies are on the far wall behind the desk. Nurses, doctors and medics man this area at any time day or night. Visiting hours are usually kept to the day and evening schedules, unless stated otherwise by medical staff.
----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-
Contents: Tais Medical Charts Memorial Board Wireless 1492

Exits: [CMO] CMOs Office [O] Corridor
[PO] Psychiatry Office [RW] Recovery Ward
Reed comes in from Corridor 13B.

Reed enters Sickbay, duty uniform on, right sleeve torn open, a towel wrapped around the right forearm. His left hand is clutching the towel to himself as he walks in, a generally sour look on his face. The duty nurse on the front desk looks up, blinks, seeing a Flag Officer wounded, and calls for a doctor, sending a duty nurse to hunt for someone on duty as Reed walks up, "I'm not dying, Petty Officer." He announces, "Just need to see someone."

Tais is hunched over a patient's chart, her fingers tunneled through her dark hair which has come loose and now spills over the hand cradling her head. Without looking up, she hears the step and murmurs, "Take a seat and I'll be with you momentarily." After a moment, her framed eyes lift and widen behind the glass when she notes the rank causing her to slip from her seat and stand. She doesn't go so far as to salute but she does offer respect for the birds on his collar. And then her eyes move to the wound, her colonial duties superseded by those of her training. "Colonel, who did you piss off now?" And she moves with grace to grab a crash tray for her use as she gestures for him to be seated.

Reed seems to be perfectly comfortable with the lack of formality, either from the habitual deference to a Doctor in Sickbay, or from the fact that he's wounded, though, admittedly, he doesn't seem to be in great pain. He looks to Tais and moves to where he's indicated to sit. "I pissed off a Cormite Microrunner. At least, I think that's what it was." He settles down and carefully pulls his hand away from the towel which is wrapped halfway up his forearm. "I was over here working on some navigational problems in the situation room and while referencing something in the local supply closet, a box of old miniatures fell over. I had a couple fleets come down on my head, and it seems an interceptor decided to land on my arm, or rather in my arm."

Tais listens with half an ear as she preps the tray, a smile of brevity lifting her lips as she seats herself on the wheeled stool and using the heel of her shoe to push herself nearer to him. Firm fingers remove the towel, though her hands are warmly gentle while lifting the offending appendage nearer to her face for a better view. Her eyes are humor filled as she meets his gaze before bidding him to divest himself of his shirt with her help, "I won't tell a soul that you were wounded in a miniatures battle. I wouldn't want them to think you were playing with them." The response is deadpan as she helps pull the Colonial issue shirt from his arm.

Reed has no problem unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off for the most part, though getting it off the injured arm is a bit of a trick. Once it's off and the towel is removed, there seems to be a jagged wound. "Well, thank you. Seems the broken base of the miniature jabbed into the meat of my arm. It seriously looked like it perched there, like a bird. It was pretty funny."

Tais lets him speak, a bottle of antiseptic squirted on his arm to clear the wound of blood to see what she was dealing with. The placement of a fresh towel beneath his arm helps to capture the rivulets of blood and liquid. "No doubt not so much at the time," her voice is rife with Libran candor while pressing a patch of gauze to the wound. With an economy of movement, she dons surgical gloves and readies the equipment for suturing the wound. "You'll need a tetanus shot, since gods knows what's been playing around on those figurines, Colonel."

Reed smiles vaugely, his own accent a light Caprican. "Yes, I expected I'd have to get something. Tell me, are the tetanus injections still using concrete as a primary ingredient?" He asks as the wound is cleared. Looks like a simple jagged puncture, definitely an octagonal base for the miniature that got him. He watches the wound cleaning with mild interest.

Tais responds in kind, "You're in luck. Due to the rationing, we've had to water down the concrete and so it will only mildly feel like barium fluid being injected into the sight." A slight wink punctuates her words as first an injection of lidocaine is introduced before the suturing begins. Her head is bowed and he can feel her breath across the surface of his arm as she proceeds.

Reed ahs quietly, "Thank gods for small favors." He responds, dryly, then looks at her, a slight crease in his forehead, "So, how much suture is this going to cost Sickbay, Lieutenant.. Umm?" He tilts his head at her, slightly confused.

Tais's lashes lift momentarily as she finishes, "Not enough to hold over anyone's head, Colonel." She ties off the thread, stifling the urge to use her teeth for emphasis and uses the surgical scissors at her disposal instead. A finger slicks antiseptic over the closed wound and then a bit of gauze, then tape to secure the whole. "Nearly good as new and your secret bent of playing with toys is safe with me. Though it may cost you should we ever acquire a food source again. Say…a steak dinner." With that, she removes the gloves, disposing them in the nearby recepticle and using the ball of her foot to scoot back her chair from him.

Reed closes his eyes, "A steak dinner. I remember those, though these days it's a bit of a memory. Still, we'll have food soon enough." The dark rumors of starvation seem little more than ghost stories to the Colonel, which could be taken as a good sign. "Even of the steak might be of unusual origin. It's hard to know really about a meat source." He smirks, "I'll see what the Hera chef will have to work with, but I warn you, if you receive a package from the Hera, make sure you open it somewhere that you won't be mobbed."

Tais smiles lightly, "I'd take in vitro meat at this point. And thanks for the tip. I'll find a supply closet to sate my gluttony in." Her steps take her to the chart carousel which she turns until his name appears. Lifting the chart she makes a notation before returning it to the circular holder. "You should be a bit sore but nothing debilitating. However, if you feel feverish, come back and we'll slip you an antibiotic or two."

Reed nods, lifting his chin to the notations on his records, which are flagged for any change to be immediately transmitted to the Hera. Uselessly, as most things coming from patients, "Please make sure you send any changes to the Hera? My own sickbay staff will be rather irritated if I have work done here and they're not notified?" He then considers, "I'm up for blood donation next week, will this effect my screening?"

Tais turns, her eyes boldly sweeping his form before answering, "It shouldn't, Colonel. Your blood will be just right for the donating. Not too dirty, not too clean and flowing like everyone else's." A click of her pen and her hand poises above a note pad, "Anyone in particular who you'd like me to inform?"

Reed quirks a brow, "You mean loved ones who can come and mourn over my defeat by a miniature? No, I think I can handle that notification and handle the subsequent mocking. Just Hera Medical, so they don't come at me with catheter tubing." He smirks, "Well, good. They can send the vampires on schedule."

Tais tsks, slipping her pen into her breast pocket, "You're no fun at all." Fingers lift to press her glasses firmly to the bridge of her nose, then hands slipped into the coat pockets. "Thank you for flying Colonial Genesis. Make sure your tray tables are in the upright position and be more careful when playing with your toys." A soft smile rests on her face for but a moment.

Reed shrugs, "No, I'm no fun at all, it's true." He lifts his arm, flexing the fingers and splaying them, letting the digits move fluidly, then straighten, holding them still as he watches the action of the hand. Steady, no tramble, and he smiles, "Well, thank you," He stops, looking at her, again that look from before when he tried to be more subtle, "I'm sorry Lieutenant, I don't think we've actually met. Colonel Carter, Hera CO."

Tais offers her hand, "Doctor Tais Pomona and I hope it doesn't take an air strike from a Cormite Microrunner to have you visit again." The grayish-green eyes behind her glasses observe him thoroughly as she mentally catalogs his name to his face.

Reed takes the hand, shaking it. "Doctor Pomona. Well, you know how it is, different ships, always busy and trying to find the time. And unfortunately coming down to visit Sickbay isn't often a social call, unless I'm coming to pester your boss, the CMO." He tilts his head, releasing the hand, "Which is always fun."

Tais's smile is slow in its rendering, memories of her own past pestering flitting across her expression, "Yes. Yes, it is."

Reed chuckles, then turns to take his duty shirt, lifting it and blinking at the torn up sleeve, making a face. "Well, damn." He says without much venom, then looks to her, rising, "I guess I'll have to scare up a new duty shirt from somewhere. Not that it's your problem, Doctor. Thank you, I can already feel the creeping soreness of a well tended wound." He grins briefly.

Tais drawls, "We aim to please, Colonel. Creeping soreness post suturing is my specialty, so in that, you're lucky." There is a pause for reflection, a moment for her not to ask the question, though she does regardless, "You mentioned before about having food soon enough. Is there any word on our soldiers and their return?"

Reed takes in a breath, considering the question for a moment, then looks back, past the Doctor to the Recovery ward, face turning slightly more serious, then back to her, "Nothing that I can go into detail about at the moment, though we're looking good for the mission outcome." Which is.. good.. though military grade vague.

Tais understands the ambiguity in the response, secrets to be kept, information disseminated cautiously. The acknowledgement is afforded a silent nod and relegated to the 'Watch and Wait' column. After a moment, another delicate smile is offered to the CO and this one accompanied by a lift of the first two fingers fitted to her brow, a sketched salute, not crisply executed. "Be safe, Colonel."

Reed pops off a similar salute, "Do the same Doctor. And thank you again." He then checks to make sure he has everything and turns to the exit.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License