Do No Harm
Do No Harm
Summary: Zaharis updates the Medical staff on the state of things.
Date: 6 ACH (19 November 2008)
Related Logs: None

Sickbay Genesis - Deck 13
6 ACH 6735 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.

A part of the reception area has been set off for this, with a place for people to stand with their coffee. There have already been a few cycles of this in the day, times set up to be able to catch everyone in groups as they come off various shifts. Zaharis is flipping through a yellow notepad as he waits for this shift of people to drag in. Officer doctors, enlisted medics, nurses, and a few marine faces mill about. Many still in varying phases of shell-shock that hasn't remotely worn off in the hectic two days prior.

The hatchway to the corridor is opened, allowing Craven to make his way into the room. It takes only a brief look around to see the particular area that's been setup and he begins to make his way in that direction. Catching sight of Zaharis, the medic gives a quick nod of his head, "Evening, Doc." Then, it's off to claim a spot for standing and listening.

A few moments later, D'Artanion walks into the room. Looking around, she pauses near the white board long enough to double check a few things then turns to head toward the area set aside. "Doc." She nods to the CMO, then drifts a little toward Craven, "Stitch."

Eve has wandered out of her office for just this very occassion, she's been squirreled away with patients most of the time, or off trying to retain her own sanity. She looks a little worse for the wear, but then again, who doesn't these trying days. Coming in quietly, she only vaguely registers her coworkers with a bit of a nod.

Zaharis has papers in his hand, marked with the Genesis symbol. He keeps them folded for now though, looking at the crowd of staff faces waiting.

"Before I started in on the official notes I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you. Everyone. I was here and on the PAS the night the Major made his speech. I know the last thing I could see myself doing after that is change someone's goddamn bedpan, but you did. I saw you. I saw you get on with surgeries, with bandage changing, with research, with giving when there should have been nothing left to give."

"We need you. -I- need you. I need you to be here, I need you to keep doing your duty. I need you to keep doing those things that right now feel so damn pointless. I need you to keep getting out of bed. I need your game faces on. I know it's tempting to wonder how the hell I can ask that of you. I know you may want to think that I couldn't possibly understand what you're going through, that nobody can and there's nobody who gets it what kind of agony you're in. But we are all here, we're people. Look next to you, that officer or that enlisted has a name. Has family. They had parents, siblings, cousins. Husbands and wives and kids. Neighbours. They're wondering same as you what the hell the point is." He pauses, not done yet but giving them a moment to take that in.

There's a shift of attention towards D'Art and Craven is giving a slight nod, "Blondie." Then, it's over towards Eve as she emerges and he's giving another nod towards her. As Zaharis begins to speak though, he simply focus' his attention on the Doctor and cants his head ever so slightly to one side, listening. There's the briefest flicker of his eyes to those gathered, but he's quickly looking back to the Doc.

Eve just lowers her face, finding something terribly interesting to look at, like the flooring or the tips of her shoes. With shoulders hunched, she merely listens to the CMO's words without interruption.

D'Artanion nods to Eve as she moves nearer. The woman is given a quick glance and a smile that fails to reach her eyes. Then Zaharis begins to speak and she focuses her aattention on him. As his words register, she lifts her arms and crosses them in front of her. Rather than pain, or sorrow, her expression registers intense defiance and determination. She nods once, then flickers a glance to Stitch and one or two of the others before looking back at Zaharis.

Zaharis meets eyes here and there in the crowd. "You know what the worst part is going to be? That we're not Marines, and we're not pilots. We're not on the guns. We don't get to take out our anger by shooting the enemy. We don't get to pull out our stops and get mad on the job. We don't get to have revenge with a kill count. We give. Healing and guidance, they will come to you needy and battered, and with all that's been taken from you, you will still have to give. Most of the time without a breath of gratitude…sometimes they'll even bitch you out or put you down. People will get mad at you. They'll take things out on you.

"You're going to need to take it out somewhere too. Find that place to do it, but make it outside Sickbay. Take it off-duty and don't destroy yourselves with it. This is not your fault. Don't destroy those who come to you, needing you. This not their fault either. And I'm going say this once more, because it will never be said enough again. Thank you."

He stops to let words sink in, then flips over the yellow page. "First order of business. Most of you have heard of the ongoing project on the Carina. She's civilian ship, taken on all the civilians from the sublights that we're not bringing with us. Her urgent care facility was damaged in the attacks, so we're putting it back together. Volunteers are welcome to go over at any time and give us a hand. You'll notice some new faces around; many of civilians chose to join our ranks and so once they're cleared security-wise they'll be joining us here or on the PAS. Second, the Pandora is back in business. She's going to be our scout ship. She needs medics, who will be largely on volunteer basis and rotated. If you want to volunteer, see me or your commanding officer if you're a Marine. Third, the PAS is shifting some of its research capabilities to producing pharmaceuticals, in the interest of sustaining our fleet. If anyone in this crowd has any experience with drug manufacturing, see me or Captain Reighner immediately. Are there any questions about these three points?"

Allowing his head to remain canted to the side, Craven continues to listen the speech that's given. The mention of the ships draws a slight arch of his brow and very soft hrrm. Another look around to those gathered and then he's looking back to Zaharis, though he remains quiet for the moment.

Eve gives a shake of her head, no questions. No comments from the psyche. Could just be her throat is so raw from talking, she's just saving it up for the next shift on duty.

Finally, D'Artanion lowers her head a bit, her gaze focusing somewhere lower than before. The gaze remains lowered for a while before lifting once more. She nods once, the determination remaining, but faintly underscored with other emotions. Licking her lips slightly, she shifts her gaze once more to the CMO.

Zaharis flips another page, nodding. That's medical in a brief. "This fleet's objective right now is to find out what the hell has happened, while keeping our ships safe. We have over 3000 civilians and others added to the fleet now, that need our protection and care. We are at war, and I need you all to be well aware that the Genesis may be drawn into combat at moment's notice. I will expect all of you to be ready in whatever care — this may include drawing your arms." The last people on the ship that should have to, but he's taking no chances. "Broadcasts on the colonial and open bands are forbidden. There will be no broadwave transmissions anywhere in the fleet. You may, of course, continue using private channels as needed for duty." Not that many of them would ever touch it, but so they know. "Are there any questions about anything going on? Ask now and ask freely."

There's another nod of Craven's head, though it's slowed by the mention of drawing arms. A faint frown and he's looking over towards D'Art for a moment, before he looks back over towards Zaharis. A moment later, there's a quick shake of his head, "Nothing here, Doc." Lifting his arms upwards, he crosses them over his chest.

Eve finally glances up, her eyes a bit red and filled with emotion that dare go past that. "All clear here, boss." She says quietly, without much force behind her voice.

D'Artanion eases back a little to rest a hip against a nearby counter. She nods once and her gaze flashes to Craven and she nods just once slightly before she looks toward the door and back again. "Uh. If… there are folk who don't know how to use weapons, I'd be glad to lend a hand." Her voice is soft, though laced with the same determination that shows in her gaze. Lowering her hands, she tucks them into her pockets, and returns her gaze to Doc, "Uh. Assuming that's cool with Doc and Captain Gaelan."

"That's fine by me." Zaharis nods to D'artanion. "I may sign up for some quality time myself." A couple of eyes turn D'art's way, pensive. The firing range may turn into medical's anger outlet. The CMO waits for the quiet muttering to die down before he adds, "Last thing. We're going to need to organise a blood drive very soon, to replenish our stock and ensure we're ready for whatever comes at us. Volunteers to assist with that are welcome. See me or Lieutenant Hammond as soon as possible." He closes the yellow notebook, letting it rest in his hands. "If there are no further matters, you are dismissed. My door is open for the next hour should anyone need."

Another nod of Craven's head and he's listening until the Doc has dismissed them. It's then that his arms uncross and he lifts a hand upwards, just a touch, "Can put my name down to help with the Blood drive, Doc." It's then that he's turning to give D'Art and Eve and a few others a nod before moving to make his way towards the duty board.

As soon as the dismissal is given, Eve is out of there faster than a school kid trying to beat the local bully past the bus stop. No volunteering, no friendly chit chat given, just a beeline for the exit of sickbay.

D'Artanion does not shy away from the looks she gets. After the muttering dies down, she nods to Zaharis, "You're always welcome, Doc." When the meeting is adjourned, she pushes from the counter and takes a half step toward the center of the room, "I'll just talk to the Captain about it, then set up some kinda schedule." After a brief moment, she nods to Craven, "Put me down for that too, wouldja?" Then, her attention turns to Eve and she inclines her head as though to offer an introduction. A hand is lifted, but the other woman takes off like a shot, "Er… Later, then." Slowly, her hand snakes back into her pocket and she clears her throat and turns to Zaharis, "Thanks. By the way."

Zaharis nods to Craven and D'art as the former heads over to sign up. "Thank you, both. And you're welcome, Staff Sergeant." He glances at the stream of people getting back, his dark eyes not easy to read.

Eve leaves for Psychiatry Office [PO].
Eve has left.

D'Artanion watches the folk mill about a little, or go about their business. Finally, when things have quieted down a bit, she takes a half step toward Zaharis. Her voice remains low, pitched such that it does not carry. "Listen, Doc… If… you ever need someone to talk to…? I'm a pretty good listener…" She turns a little so that her gaze remains a hair oblique. The two could be talking about the weather or Pyramid. A flicker back to you and she lifts a shoulder in a shrug, "Or, find someone, yeah? While it's true that we've all gotta hold it together, that goes doubly for you. So… Don't be a stranger."

Zaharis nods passingly to an LT going by, then looks back at D'artanion as she gets closer. He smiles slightly as he listens. "Thank you, Sarge, I appreciate that. And…it does go both ways. Practice what we preach, isn't that what they say." He shifts the legal pad to the crook of his arm. "And listen, I am serious about taking up the firearms offer, so. I'll be in touch."

D'Artanion nods, a smile touching her lips, then fading, "Yeah, they do. Guess there's wisdome there." Lifting a hand, she pushes a bit of hair from her forehead and inhales, "Yeah, no problem. I figure your schedule's going to be worse'n most, so let me know when's good and I'll clear it." Her gaze flickers to the duty board, then back, "I'm pulling an early shift tomorrow so I'm going to try to get some sack time." A faint sparkle, only a fraction of what was there a week ago, touches her eyes and she half winks, "Don't stay up too late there, Doc. G'night."

"I'll do my best. Good night, Sarge." Zaharis offers her another smile. It's a real one, though it doesn't get all the way to his eyes. "Thanks for your good work." There's someone else waiting for his attention, so he turns his focus to next in the long line as she goes.

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