8 hours ago
== Several years ago, USS Artemis, Cargo Bay 3B ==
Triage. That was the word for it. There had been many names for different procedures over the centuries, but ultimately it came down to which patients were most in need of medical assistance, those who could wait... and those who were beyond help.
The young Midshipman walked through the small cargo bay filled with cots. There was blood on her scrubs, some of it her own but most not. An old-fashioned bandage on her forehead covered up a deep gash that she hadn't had a chance to treat, and her purple hair on the left side of her head had been largely singed away by a plasma blast that had come dangerously close. A few paces away an orderly pulled a blanket over a dead officer wearing Science blue that matched his Andorian skin.
The Artemis had taken the beating to end all beatings. It was only the pitted and blasted ablative armor on the hull that had prevented the ship from suffering the same fate as so many others had in the battle against the Borg Megasphere. The ship was intact and (largely) functional, though the warp engines were offline. Main Sickbay was currently inaccessible, Engineering was flooded by radiation, and there were multiple hull breaches. One of those had almost claimed the life of the young nurse before force fields had cut in, but with the power fluctuations it was simply too risky to treat patients in the Medical Complex and the ship's two other auxiliary sickbays were crammed with the wounded. There was another cargo bay that held the dead, with more appearing as the ship's scanners and transporters recovered bodies that had been blown out into space.
And so Robin Mayfair tracked through the dying and the dead. That's what this cargo bay was being used for, those who tricorder scans had determined were beyond saving. The vast majority of the ship's remaining medical personnel were busy in the nearby smaller sickbays saving so they could. She was low girl on the totem pole, a fresh-out-of-the-academy middie with no experience and no knowledge of the ship or its crew, no training with how to work with them, so she'd been given this job. She would have simply been in the way. Her assigned job was to catalog the casualties, record time of death, that sort of thing.
A wet cough caught her attention a few cots over. A young Bajoran woman in Engineering gold moaned and coughed again. There was blood all over the front of her uniform and a small pool of vomit next to the cot.
"I can't see. Is anyone there?" Her voice was so weak, gravelly.
"I'm here," said the nurse. "Midshipman Mayfair. Robin."
"Tiga. Shono Tiga. Why can't I see? What happened?"
The nurse had already pulled her tricorder and begun scanning. Radiation sickness. An absolutely lethal dose. Someone had administered a heavy dose of painkillers. Otherwise Tiga would have been screaming in agony.
"You took a massive dose of radiation." She paused, swallowed. "It's destroyed your corneas and wrecked your nervous system. There's fluid in your lungs."
The ensign coughed again and Robin wiped blood away from her mouth and nose.
"Will... will I recover?"
No. The blunt word jumped into her thoughts.
"I'm sorry. No." She paused, not wanting to cry. "It was a fatal dose, well beyond treatment. There's no recovery."
That actually brought a weak laugh. "Heh, figures. My first mission on this ship."
"Mine too. This is my cadet cruise."
That brought another laugh, weaker than before. The tricorder indicated that the young woman was fading quickly. The extreme damage to her medulla oblongata was interfering with heart and lung function.
"I'm scared, Robin."
Robin reached down and took her hand, saying nothing.
"Will you stay with me? I don't want to die alone."
"You won't. I'll stay with you." Tears rolled down the middie's cheek. The Bajoran woman clenched her hand as hard as she could.
"Thank you. I... I..." The tricorder flashed a warning. She was going into cardiac arrest. The heart wasn't getting the signals to beat. The girl bucked on the cot, her back arching. She got out one more strangled "I" before collapsing with a rasping, fluid-filled sigh. The tricorder tone indicated that her brain was shutting down, heart function just stopping altogether. Robin slowly released her hand and gently placed it by her side. She closed the Bajoran woman's sightless eyes and then covered her with the blanket. She felt like she should say something but had no words.
Robin took a breath, stood up, and went to the next cot.
== Now ==
“I stand by what I said back on Artemis. This feels like the Klingons got lucky findin’ this place and didn’t know what they had. They didn’t have the expertise or the manpower to actually do anything with these clones. Don’t mistake incompetence for strategy,” Mara said calmly.
Robin nodded. "Yeah, you're likely right." She hadn't lost the edge to her voice. She could feel the cold, ruthless part of her Augment mind rising up and she hammered it back down again. There was a part of her that wanted to hurt the Klingons. Mara understood that feeling more than anyone.
“As for what we do… I don’t know that we can do anythin’. These guys have no prospect of survival, from what you just said. If we bring ‘em down food and cots and try treatin’ ‘em, are we not just prolongin’ the agony? Riskin’ our people and givin’ up supplies that will make no difference?” Calleja sighed herself, broad shoulders rising and falling.
“It’s a shit position to be in all round. I’m not advocatin’ a firin’ squad here. Got enough people thinkin’ I’m a war criminal waitin’ to happen. But I feel like we gotta consider grantin’ them mercy.”
She met Robin's gaze
“Be my conscience. Tell me I’m wrong.”
"I don't have to, Mara. That question is your conscience answering you."
The nurse grimaced and sighed. "As much as my upbringing and training tells me otherwise, that offering them a quick death isn't an option... I suppose it has to be on the table." She paused. "But I won't let anyone die alone and in squalor if I can help it, and I'd like to at least try to help them even if it's inevitable. As soon as the Artemis is free have a couple portable biobeds beamed down along with a team. See if we can pull a solution out of our butts. We've got the resources, and that's what they're for." She gave a sad laugh. "Hey, Starfleet doctors have done more with less." Her tone showed that she thought the odds of that were almost nil.
"Regardless, it should be their choice, and I appreciate you asking. Like I said I'm perfectly willing to clean them up and get them into something resembling beds, if we can find any here. I'll tell them, lay it out straight. It's my job. I'd appreciate it if you would be with me. Not just for moral support, but because we don't know how they'll react to the news."
"And if they want to go with your solution then I'll be there for them as well."
=== Several years ago, USS Artemis chapel. Three days after the battle ==
The Midshipmen lit a candle.
Should I ask the Prophets to guide her? I don't even know if she was religious, and I'd feel like a hypocrite praying to beings I don't think are gods.
In the end the young nurse just said a simple prayer to any being that was listening for the soul of Shono Tiga. She had faith that all would be as it would be. It would have to be enough. The CMO had written a letter to the woman's parents, but Robin had added a note letting them know that she had been with their daughter when she had died. It didn't feel like enough.
This is the job. It's what you signed up for. You've been an officer for a week and you've already seen more death than most do in their entire careers. She won't be the last.
But no one is ever going to die alone if I'm around.
== Tag Mara ==
Triage. That was the word for it. There had been many names for different procedures over the centuries, but ultimately it came down to which patients were most in need of medical assistance, those who could wait... and those who were beyond help.
The young Midshipman walked through the small cargo bay filled with cots. There was blood on her scrubs, some of it her own but most not. An old-fashioned bandage on her forehead covered up a deep gash that she hadn't had a chance to treat, and her purple hair on the left side of her head had been largely singed away by a plasma blast that had come dangerously close. A few paces away an orderly pulled a blanket over a dead officer wearing Science blue that matched his Andorian skin.
The Artemis had taken the beating to end all beatings. It was only the pitted and blasted ablative armor on the hull that had prevented the ship from suffering the same fate as so many others had in the battle against the Borg Megasphere. The ship was intact and (largely) functional, though the warp engines were offline. Main Sickbay was currently inaccessible, Engineering was flooded by radiation, and there were multiple hull breaches. One of those had almost claimed the life of the young nurse before force fields had cut in, but with the power fluctuations it was simply too risky to treat patients in the Medical Complex and the ship's two other auxiliary sickbays were crammed with the wounded. There was another cargo bay that held the dead, with more appearing as the ship's scanners and transporters recovered bodies that had been blown out into space.
And so Robin Mayfair tracked through the dying and the dead. That's what this cargo bay was being used for, those who tricorder scans had determined were beyond saving. The vast majority of the ship's remaining medical personnel were busy in the nearby smaller sickbays saving so they could. She was low girl on the totem pole, a fresh-out-of-the-academy middie with no experience and no knowledge of the ship or its crew, no training with how to work with them, so she'd been given this job. She would have simply been in the way. Her assigned job was to catalog the casualties, record time of death, that sort of thing.
A wet cough caught her attention a few cots over. A young Bajoran woman in Engineering gold moaned and coughed again. There was blood all over the front of her uniform and a small pool of vomit next to the cot.
"I can't see. Is anyone there?" Her voice was so weak, gravelly.
"I'm here," said the nurse. "Midshipman Mayfair. Robin."
"Tiga. Shono Tiga. Why can't I see? What happened?"
The nurse had already pulled her tricorder and begun scanning. Radiation sickness. An absolutely lethal dose. Someone had administered a heavy dose of painkillers. Otherwise Tiga would have been screaming in agony.
"You took a massive dose of radiation." She paused, swallowed. "It's destroyed your corneas and wrecked your nervous system. There's fluid in your lungs."
The ensign coughed again and Robin wiped blood away from her mouth and nose.
"Will... will I recover?"
No. The blunt word jumped into her thoughts.
"I'm sorry. No." She paused, not wanting to cry. "It was a fatal dose, well beyond treatment. There's no recovery."
That actually brought a weak laugh. "Heh, figures. My first mission on this ship."
"Mine too. This is my cadet cruise."
That brought another laugh, weaker than before. The tricorder indicated that the young woman was fading quickly. The extreme damage to her medulla oblongata was interfering with heart and lung function.
"I'm scared, Robin."
Robin reached down and took her hand, saying nothing.
"Will you stay with me? I don't want to die alone."
"You won't. I'll stay with you." Tears rolled down the middie's cheek. The Bajoran woman clenched her hand as hard as she could.
"Thank you. I... I..." The tricorder flashed a warning. She was going into cardiac arrest. The heart wasn't getting the signals to beat. The girl bucked on the cot, her back arching. She got out one more strangled "I" before collapsing with a rasping, fluid-filled sigh. The tricorder tone indicated that her brain was shutting down, heart function just stopping altogether. Robin slowly released her hand and gently placed it by her side. She closed the Bajoran woman's sightless eyes and then covered her with the blanket. She felt like she should say something but had no words.
Robin took a breath, stood up, and went to the next cot.
== Now ==
“I stand by what I said back on Artemis. This feels like the Klingons got lucky findin’ this place and didn’t know what they had. They didn’t have the expertise or the manpower to actually do anything with these clones. Don’t mistake incompetence for strategy,” Mara said calmly.
Robin nodded. "Yeah, you're likely right." She hadn't lost the edge to her voice. She could feel the cold, ruthless part of her Augment mind rising up and she hammered it back down again. There was a part of her that wanted to hurt the Klingons. Mara understood that feeling more than anyone.
“As for what we do… I don’t know that we can do anythin’. These guys have no prospect of survival, from what you just said. If we bring ‘em down food and cots and try treatin’ ‘em, are we not just prolongin’ the agony? Riskin’ our people and givin’ up supplies that will make no difference?” Calleja sighed herself, broad shoulders rising and falling.
“It’s a shit position to be in all round. I’m not advocatin’ a firin’ squad here. Got enough people thinkin’ I’m a war criminal waitin’ to happen. But I feel like we gotta consider grantin’ them mercy.”
She met Robin's gaze
“Be my conscience. Tell me I’m wrong.”
"I don't have to, Mara. That question is your conscience answering you."
The nurse grimaced and sighed. "As much as my upbringing and training tells me otherwise, that offering them a quick death isn't an option... I suppose it has to be on the table." She paused. "But I won't let anyone die alone and in squalor if I can help it, and I'd like to at least try to help them even if it's inevitable. As soon as the Artemis is free have a couple portable biobeds beamed down along with a team. See if we can pull a solution out of our butts. We've got the resources, and that's what they're for." She gave a sad laugh. "Hey, Starfleet doctors have done more with less." Her tone showed that she thought the odds of that were almost nil.
"Regardless, it should be their choice, and I appreciate you asking. Like I said I'm perfectly willing to clean them up and get them into something resembling beds, if we can find any here. I'll tell them, lay it out straight. It's my job. I'd appreciate it if you would be with me. Not just for moral support, but because we don't know how they'll react to the news."
"And if they want to go with your solution then I'll be there for them as well."
=== Several years ago, USS Artemis chapel. Three days after the battle ==
The Midshipmen lit a candle.
Should I ask the Prophets to guide her? I don't even know if she was religious, and I'd feel like a hypocrite praying to beings I don't think are gods.
In the end the young nurse just said a simple prayer to any being that was listening for the soul of Shono Tiga. She had faith that all would be as it would be. It would have to be enough. The CMO had written a letter to the woman's parents, but Robin had added a note letting them know that she had been with their daughter when she had died. It didn't feel like enough.
This is the job. It's what you signed up for. You've been an officer for a week and you've already seen more death than most do in their entire careers. She won't be the last.
But no one is ever going to die alone if I'm around.
== Tag Mara ==