02-19-2026, 03:22 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-19-2026, 03:23 AM by Morad Ameen.)
== Sickbay ==
The doors to Sickbay hissed open, and Morad Ameen stepped into a scene that looked less like a medical ward and more like a refugee camp in a war zone.
Twelve massive, frost-covered pods crowded the center of the room, displacing bio-beds and equipment carts. The air smelled of ozone from the transport and the sharp, metallic tang of the alien hull plating.
Ameen took it all in with a single, sweeping glance.
He saw Midshipman Cortez slumped against the bulkhead, tearing at his helmet, a picture of raw psychological collapse. He saw Dr. O'Fee trying to manage the patient while the room chaos unfolded. He saw Lieutenant Gath standing like a statue amidst the confusion, clutching the black data module like a weapon.
And he saw Midshipman A'kilees frantically scanning the walls for a power outlet.
Ameen didn't hesitate. The CO stepped aside, and the engineer took over.
"A'kilees!" Ameen's voice boomed over the alarms, cutting through the panic. He pointed a gloved hand toward the ceiling assembly above the primary bio-bed. "The wall panels are too weak! Tear the panel off the surgical arch! Use the main EPS tap for the containment field generators!"
He strode further into the room, stepping over a discarded EVA glove.
"Doctor O'Fee, get that suit off Midshipman Cortez before he hyperventilates. Medical team, help A'kilees with those cables. Move!"
He stopped in front of Gath, his eyes locking onto the heavy data module in the Klingon's hand.
"Lieutenant Gath," he said, his voice lowering to a steady calm amidst the storm. "You held on. Good work. Secure that module in the lab, then get yourself checked out."
The doors to Sickbay hissed open, and Morad Ameen stepped into a scene that looked less like a medical ward and more like a refugee camp in a war zone.
Twelve massive, frost-covered pods crowded the center of the room, displacing bio-beds and equipment carts. The air smelled of ozone from the transport and the sharp, metallic tang of the alien hull plating.
Ameen took it all in with a single, sweeping glance.
He saw Midshipman Cortez slumped against the bulkhead, tearing at his helmet, a picture of raw psychological collapse. He saw Dr. O'Fee trying to manage the patient while the room chaos unfolded. He saw Lieutenant Gath standing like a statue amidst the confusion, clutching the black data module like a weapon.
And he saw Midshipman A'kilees frantically scanning the walls for a power outlet.
Ameen didn't hesitate. The CO stepped aside, and the engineer took over.
"A'kilees!" Ameen's voice boomed over the alarms, cutting through the panic. He pointed a gloved hand toward the ceiling assembly above the primary bio-bed. "The wall panels are too weak! Tear the panel off the surgical arch! Use the main EPS tap for the containment field generators!"
He strode further into the room, stepping over a discarded EVA glove.
"Doctor O'Fee, get that suit off Midshipman Cortez before he hyperventilates. Medical team, help A'kilees with those cables. Move!"
He stopped in front of Gath, his eyes locking onto the heavy data module in the Klingon's hand.
"Lieutenant Gath," he said, his voice lowering to a steady calm amidst the storm. "You held on. Good work. Secure that module in the lab, then get yourself checked out."