H'Rasha Trenral

H'Rasha sat behind her desk, poking at the monitor in front of her rather distractedly. She'd spent the last couple of days trying to soothe Vaughn over the incident down in the trauma center, but no one as yet had managed to soothe her. It had revved up some of the Caitian territorial instincts as well as her temper, and neither was quick to disappear. She had work to do though, so she'd continue to simmer until she could manage to get into the holodeck and shred something to pieces. Something brown. And furry. Wearing gray. Caine stepped through the doors of main sickbay and absently straightened the cuffs of her uniform, looking around for the CMO. She'd spent the last half hour tracking down and dealing with Lt. Colonel JoNs' side of the two reports which had landed on her desk a few hours before; it was now time to deal with the other half. Turning as she was directed towards Trenral's office, she stepped forward and rang the chime, arranging her features into slightly more than the usual calm. At the interruption of the chime, it too soon to say if it was welcome or not, H'Rasha sat back in her chair and used her control pad to open the door. Seeing Caine standing there, the Cait's whiskers spread a bit and the tip of her tail could be seen emerging over the top of her desk as it swished back and forth. "Well, well, well... look at what the cat would've liked to have dragged in two days ago," she said, a modicum of amusement in her voice. "I seem to be in high demand in general among the feline set," Caine answered wryly, stepping inside the office and letting the doors close behind her. "So I'd guess you're not surprised to see me." "Hmph. Between the breach of regulation report I sent you regarding that..." She trailed off a few seconds, obviously allowing whatever specific phrase she wanted to use to echo around her head for a few moments. "JoNs. Then I imagine she had her own paperwork to drop on your desk regarding the incident. Which should've been a confession but was probably a counter-report because I didn't roll over and shine her boots." H'Rasha finally gestured with a paw to the chair on the other side of the desk. "Figured you'd be by sooner than this, actually. Guess you made sure all the punctuation was properly placed first." "I've been speaking with the Lieutenant Colonel, Doctor; I apologize for the delay -- your accusation was serious and I dealt with it first." As she had with JoNs, Caine nodded thanks for the offered seat and remained standing. She had not dealt extensively with Trenral beyond the usual bridge exchanges thus far, except upon the occasion of Captain Calestorm's friendly-fire attack; at that time, the doctor's temper had been directed elsewhere and Caine had appreciated it. Now it was a bit more difficult, but she kept her tone even. "You think I ought to disregard hers, I take it?" "She can spit and snarl all she likes in regard to my attitude, it doesn't erase the breach of regulations." The Cait's tail started whipping around more energetically now. "I can not, and will not tolerate these hotheaded marines disregarding protocols that were enacted in the first place because idiot military minds ended up killing people by not listening to doctors in regards to biohazard situations. Had that turned out to be a true contamination she would've endangered the lives of everyone on this ship." "I don't disagree," Caine said calmly, folding her arms and setting her legs apart in a slightly relaxed stance. "And I've already spoken to her regarding the incident. She showed no particular bloody-mindedness about it, and I'd submit that when it comes to hotheadedness...the whole crew is on a bit of a hairtrigger." Which was, she reflected, why she was taking the current tack at all; she was hardly a confirmed counselor but she had already come to the conclusion that in this particular case, with no true harm done by the breach and general ship's tension high, that she'd rather get everyone calm and make the points on both sides than make arrests, unless either party gave her reason. "We can thank the damned Soltan for that," she replied with a bit of a growl. "I would not have pushed the issue this far myself, but... not only did she completely disregard my authority as the authority during an emergency medical biohazard situation she basically said she'd do it again if the need arose. I don't give two bowel movements what JoNs wanted to do there, I will not tolerate it happening again. She does not have the training or expertise to swing her new colonel's insignia around in a quarantine, and the lives on this ship mean one hell of a lot more to me than it seems that they do for her." She rose, and paced the small area behind her desk. "She could've asked me before for clearance, but she was too busy being big bossy colonel to think of it. She could've just opened a damned video feed to see what was going on. But no, she has to barge in with her oaf squad, then when my man in charge down there rightfully pointed out the lapse she gets bossy with him too." Caine puffed out a slow breath. She could understand Trenral's frustration, and she shrugged slightly. "In a lock-down situation, it's easy to want to take action about it. But I have spoken to her, cited the regs, and told her that -- as you say -- I was not interested in dealing with this again. Whether she got the message remains to be seen. Either way, a report has been sent to Colonel Harper on the subject. One will also have to be sent shortly regarding Colonel JoNs' complaint." She paused, then shook her head slightly. "As I said, Doctor...I know everyone's on a bit of an edge and I'm inclined to suggest that complaint be passed over. But...if this is going to be a permanent sticking point..." She let her voice trail off and looked at Trenral a little questioningly, kind of hoping the Cait would back off and not make her job more difficult. She really didn't want to be putting out internal brush fires more than she had to. "Oy." H'Rasha crossed her arms and put a hip onto the desk. "We'll let Harper look it over. But by all the hypos if the main Colonel doesn't get out the paddle and make it clear to JoNs that she's not to step on my paws in these kinds of circumstances again you'll be getting a knock on your door. Because that woman definitely deserved her call sign and she won't learn on her own until I have to do an autopsy or someone with enough authority yanks her tail." "What the Colonel's disciplinary measures will be, I can't speak for. If the Colonel does not get the message, and the issue crops up again, you will not have to knock," Caine said easily, but allowing the slightest bit of authority to creep into her tone. "And, frankly, if I get another message about senior officers losing their tempers and it somehow making its way all the way to my desk... I won't need a knock either." "Fair enough," H'Rasha replied, then sighed. "I'd heard rumors that she could get like this but going all hoorah has made it worse. From pain in the tail to pain in the tail with a gun and an attitude." She settled back into her seat behind the desk. "Your people that helped out down there did a good job under difficult circumstances. I also bet if they were on the door instead of the Marines this might have been avoided." "Your confidence is gratifying. For my own part, I'd guess it was a young gun on the door who could just as easily have been Fleet as Marines," Caine said with a shrug. "It was a bad set of circumstances; a lot of miscommunication, a lot of people feeling their authority. A lot of people afraid, probably." Her shoulders relaxed, just slightly, as H'Rasha's edginess seemed to settle slightly. "For the rest..." she went on a bit noncommittally. "It's the disputes in the public quarter that worry me. I can't order you to like her." "That's a damn good thing," H'Rasha said with a mirthless laugh. "Because there would be some real insubordination to write a report about." She gave the security chief a fanged grin. "I think you've had enough of that to last a lifetime just this week." "You could say that..." Caine said wryly, giving H'Rasha a thoughtful look. She'd be keeping an eye on both of the plaintiffs for now, she decided, and her report would say as much. If this was an isolated incident...it would stand; stress, fear, and, as Kansas had said, the "territorial issue." If it was not...well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

While I appreciate the job security, I really do, if this keeps this up we will run out of painkillers. Then I'll have to ask if we can stop at the nearest Class M so I can rummage around for some herbal style substitutes if we don't get a resupply. If you think going to sickbay is unpleasant now, wait until I have to start rubbing smelly home-brewed ointments over y'all. :)

According to our records, you are due for your ship board physical, and full blood and fluid work up testing. Please report to Doctor H'Rasha Trenral of the medical department for your scheduled time slot. I expect you to comply fully with these orders. C.T. Caine, Chief of Security of the ISS Agincourt, stepped over the threshold of the ship's sickbay already in a sour mood. It seemed extremely unlikely to her that Commander JoNs had been anything but purposeful in delivering the half-Vulcan officer a physical slot at the inconvenient hour of 0200, and while she was not unaccustomed to late hours, the obvious jab inherent in the orders had her on edge. She looked around. The sickbay was quiet at that hour; the only other creature present was another Caitian in medical blue standing near the far wall. Caine almost groaned aloud. I wasn't aware I had signed aboard a zoo. Her arms crossed, she watched the half breed come in and look around. While there was nothing most people would notice, there was a definite lack of enthusiasm once H'Rasha was spotted by the Security Chief. This was going to be fun, she thought. "You're late," she growled, the clock on the wall just ticking to 0201. "I'll be sure to note that down." Unfolding herself from the wall she stalked over to Caine, looking the woman over with a predatory gleam in her golden eyes. Caine raised one eyebrow slowly at this display of confidence on the part of the third-watch alien doctor and folded her arms dismissively, then brushed past Trenral and moved further into the sickbay. "I would like to get this taken care of as quickly as possible, Doctor," she said curtly, her tone clearly indicating that she felt that title had not really yet been earned. "Quickly, did you say," H'Rasha said, a statement and not a question. "Let me help you with that." Noting that Caine had folded her arms, she took a step in, grinned ferally, and then pounced the woman into the nearest biobed. "There, now all you have to do is disrobe," she said, stepping back. Caine grunted as the heavy weight impacted her stomach, knocking her back into a reclining position and disappearing before she had time to strike back. She coughed, clearing the effect of the impact from her lungs, and looked at the Caitian doctor with annoyed surprise. Her fists clenched, her whole expression cooled to the relative temperature of an ice block. "Careful, doctor, I did not come here to play games." She unsnapped the collar of her uniform jacket and pulled it off with an almost sulky air, tossing it onto the bed beside her. Only the knowledge that she would be pestered and bothered and interrupted by JoNs and even potentially Harper until she was examined kept her sitting on that bed. This had to be dealt with first; any punishment for the Cait's cheek could wait. "Yes, you're here to be examined by yours truly. Therefore I suggest you shut up and do as I tell you," H'Rasha said, entirely unconcerned; besides her Caitian physical abilities and instincts, she also was a doctor that specialized in pathology. She could claw someone, poison them, or infect them with a designer disease, and if the person merited that treatment she'd certainly enjoy any of the outcomes. "Lie down," she ordered, flicking on the biobed. She paused a second, to see if it would be necessary to assist Caine into that position. Caine made a growling noise of annoyance and let her head fall back on the bed, but her body was tense, her fists still clenched at her sides as she watched the Caitian doctor approaching her. Caine hated physicals; the sense of vulnerability one garnered from lying at a doctor's mercy was often difficult to deal with. Her gray eyes tracked the approaching physician with an almost tactically analytic focus, and she waited to see how this would progress. H'Rasha stopped about a foot from the biobed and studied the readings a moment. Considering she had riled her patient beforehand, the slightly elevated numbers were not surprising. Stepping in the rest of the way, she loomed over Caine. "So, Caine, Christina-T'Prinn..." H'Rasha fangily smirked down at her. "How do you feel?" Caine rolled her eyes. "Never better. If I were not feeling well, I would hardly have had to be ordered down for a physical, would I?" She wondered if she could find an excuse to demonstrate her excellent health by forcibly removing that smirk from Trenral's face. It would certainly be satisfying. "Well, that's something. Isn't there a human saying about still having your health? Considering where your career reputedly is at the moment..." She grabbed a medical tricorder and popped out the scanning wand as the statement trailed off into the air. She watched Caine's face for a reaction. Caine's head snapped around and she narrowed her eyes at the Cait doctor. This one has some balls, doesn't she? "My career is more than solid enough to make you very sorry for a comment like that, doctor. I suggest you watch your footing." "So you and I are having this lovely conversation at 0200 because of your job security, I see..." H'Rasha waved the wand over Caine's head. "Perhaps you are a creature of the night, then? Or is it that you are modest, and didn't want to come down during busy hours?" The wand trailed down over Caine's torso. "Are you this talkative with all your patients or did I draw the lucky number?" Caine asked moodily. This Cait was a little too perceptive for her own good. "Oh, I'm just the friendly sort," the furry medico responded with a purred chuckle. It was always so much better if the patients hate the interaction as much as I do, she thought. She trailed the wand further down and scanned the rest of the security chief. "Well, I'll need to get some samples from you, let's start with blood, shall we?" She replaced the wand and pulled open a drawer from the bedside table. From it she extracted a large and rusty hypodermic needle that she'd replicated before Caine arrived. She turned, making sure the half breed got a good look. Caine was distracted from a sardonic response to Trenral's comment by the sight of the needle, and one eyebrow quirked reflexively. Her jaw tightened slightly. She showed no other response, though her internal discomfort level rose with the realization that the Caitian certainly intended to have a good time during this examination. An examination where a doctor had too good a time was never a pleasant prospect. She said nothing, just watched unblinkingly as the Cait worked, looking for any sign of funny business. "Cat got your tongue, finally?" H'Rasha asked. "If you're hoping I'll run screaming from the room, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," Caine replied shortly, her tone as dismissive as she could make it. She couldn't resist a short jab however. "But I'm surprised you are reduced to using such...degenerate-looking equipment. Are you not allowed near the good stuff?" "Oh, I have the 'good stuff' missy," H'Rasha said, unperturbed. "But why waste it so early on in the show?" She then plunged the needle into the bed with lightning speed. "I so seldom to get to play with the pretty balls of yarn," she quipped. Pulling the needle back out, she dropped it back into the drawer and extracted the usual hypo instead. "This more what you were expecting?" She asked before pushing it into Caine's arm and drawing out the blood. If the setting drew it out faster than was generally comfortable, it must surely have been an accident. Caine's breath hissed out between her teeth, partly with discomfort, partly with annoyance at the showmanship which Trenral seemed to have decided it was necessary to exhibit. "Yes...something more along those lines," she responded coolly. After the vial in the hypo was full, she put it aside, then picked up a PADD and looked through it, checking off items. She completely ignored Caine through this. After a moment, she flat out purred. "Ah yes," she said, sounding entirely too delighted. "I love this next bit." Putting the PADD aside, she looked Caine in the eyes. "Care to guess?" "No. No, I don't." "All right, I'll show you." The sound of her claws clicking out was clearly audible before she took a swipe at Caine. Caine had hardly registered what Trenral was doing; her response was almost instinctive. As the clawed paw swiped forwards, Caine jerked upright and twisted her upper torso around, dodging the line of attack and angling her body inside the reach of Trenral's arm. Backing up and pushing herself off the bed, she yanked forward, pulling the doctor's weight down, then pivoting in an attempt to throw the Cait down onto the bed herself. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snarled. Catching herself with a paw before she could be pinned to the bed, Trenral merely smiled, though of course the sight of her fangs may not have been too friendly. "Reflexes are sufficient. Mind letting go so I can jot that down?" She asked, almost sweetly. Caine stared down at her for a moment, then quirked one eyebrow and laughed sharply, angrily, annoyed at having had her own skills played against her. She released the doctor with a jerk and stepped back. "You enjoy playing with fire, don't you, Doctor?" "I do prefer my tuna grilled," she quipped, stepping over and jotting down something on the PADD casually as if she'd no more than taken Caine's temperature. "While you're up..." H'Rasha reached back into the drawer and pulled out a little plastic tub. She led the way to the head, crooking a finger over her shoulder indicating Caine should follow. Caine followed with a sense of vague resignation. At least she could extrapolate without too much difficulty what this test would be, and she only hoped that Trenral would not for some reason insist on watching. As if the thought hopped from Caine's brain into H'Rasha's, the Caitian doctor held out the cup but made no move to leave the small room. "Can't have you transporting in someone else's, can we?" For the first time her delighted demeanor wasn't present, as even she didn't enjoy this part. Which of course meant that when this was done she'd have to make up for it. "Just be lucky you're not a man," she added a few minutes later as they made their way out. "When the form says 'every fluid' they mean it." Caine looked at her sidelong. "I don't know; it might serve to be the most enjoyable part of the examination in that case." Turning away, she proceeded back to the biobed and picked up the jacket she had removed earlier. "Is there anything else or may I return to work?" H'Rasha dropped off the sample before heading over to check the PADD. "Well, what do you know, you've managed to survive the ordeal. I suppose that's a pass of itself, however I can't file the form until the lab work is in." She looked over Caine. Apart from the snooty attitude, she had been pleasantly surprised by the woman. In any case, she'd followed the orders from the XO to the letter, and enjoyed herself in the process. "Yes, you may go," H'Rasha said. "Though what you have in mind for work at this time of the morning... Sending more officers with knives throughout the ship?" "Of course. I have to ensure you earn your keep, after all," Caine replied icily, and disappeared out the door.

Humans have a saying... well, they have a lot of those but one in particular H'Rasha has always found accurate: "There's a first time for everything." In this case she wished that it wasn't true. For the first time, the Caitian doctor wasn't proud to be wearing the Starfleet uniform, and also for the first time she had people hating her just because she was wearing it. She walked the streets for a while, finally separating from the dynamic duo of Caine and Matthews to stop in at the hospital. Wanting only to check in on the people who'd been hurt during the ruckus at the conference center, she was immediately greeted with a sneer, fobbed off on the Administrator and treated like an Imperial Goon. She was sure in another universe she would have enjoyed the feeling immensely, but not in this one. The very first patient she'd gone in to see had called her, in a weak but determined voice, a number of names that were not generally reserved for polite company. He'd also hocked out an impressive wad of phlegm that had fallen at her feet before lapsing into a fit of violent coughing. She was a doctor, damn it, not a member of the Inquisition. Even as utterly stupid as she found their methods she respected their right to protest the actions and cared enough to wish them speedy recoveries. Yet as long as she was wearing the Starfleet uniform on Corianis she was seen as an enemy, and a dirty one at that. That rankled, and it was lucky for Starfleet Command and the Federation Council that Corianis was so far away, otherwise she'd march straight to them and give them a piece of her mind and a good cuff to the head. Wearily she finished the check-in at the hospital, her ears sorely abused by the end. Between the inventive invectives delivered by the patients and the variety of disrespects offered by the staff she was surprised as she passed out of the mirrored lobby that she hadn't grown horns and been slavering at the mouth. H'Rasha figured if she was going to be treated like a monster she should at least look the part. With a sigh, she hopped up on a wall in the parking area and sat there, her tail whipping around behind her as she looked over what she could see of the city. Empty save for local police, Starfleet Security and Marines, and the occasional pair of medicos in blue, the city seemed to have died, the occasional patrol like flies on the carcass. A preternatural stillness hung over the air, yet the Caitian's predatory senses could sense a tingling laced through it. Even after the reinforcements arrived this would not be a done deal, and she hoped the locals didn't give up their fight. The thought of the population being pacified and broken was too hurtful to H'Rasha's soul. This wasn't the Federation she'd grown up adoring, not the Federation she'd sworn to serve.

After the affair that had gone down in the security offices, Commander Kansas JoNs and her bodyguards -- Lt. Mical and PO Darjhan – had started to make progress towards the medical offices. JoNs was starting to slip away fast, and even though the felinoid officer was trying to hang in there, there were still random droplets of blood peppering the ship corridors, marking JoNs's progress as she made her way to the medical department. In the section of her brain reserved for administrative duties, Kansas made a mental note to put in a call to the housekeeping teams. "Hi there. This is Commander JoNs, and you see, I sorta bled all over certain sections of the ship. Yes, I did cut myself shaving…" …of course, she really wouldn't say that to the department shift lead, but, she still couldn't help the thought. She was fighting a stoic fight, and had ambulated about three quarters of the way despite the knife gashes across her collar bone, forearm, and leg. But, the leg injury in particular had started to spasm and stiffen due to the knife wounding, and so, she had been accepting of some help from the Andorian female Mical who scooped a strong blue hand under the felines bicep and took some of her weight while the feline Ex Oh hobbled/walked/grunted the rest of the way to the medial section. As the trip came upon the double steel entry way doors into the inner sanctum of the Medicos, the golden furred Cait dished out orders. "You two wait outside. Unless they're dying, no one gains admittance to the medical bay for the next little while…I don't want any more dang surprises." …the order would have sounded way more commanding if her voice wasn't tinged with pain. And even if JoNs were to encounter some sort of surprise…she wasn't entirely sure that she would be able to manage to put up some kind of solid fight; she was really starting to hurt now, and stimulants wouldn't be any use -- she needed to seek medical attention. There were just certain injuries that you couldn't "shake off." The leonine feline wiped a paw over the keypad entry scanner (whoops, there was another blood smear), and the doorway obediently sprang apart to allow her admittance into the main medical bay. JoNs gloomily glanced at a bulkhead mounted chronometer set off to one side of the outer office area, and saw that it was two AM ships time; it was a long day already, she was due to spearhead a department head meeting first thing, and the new day shift hadn't even technically started yet. A whistle pierced the still of the night, and then JoNs followed up the sound with a called out vocalization of, "Doctor on shift!" Back in the lab, where H'Rasha preferred to be as often as possible so she could avoid the annoyance of other demanding sentient life forms, the open intercom she always left on to hear anyone puttering around the sickbay sprang to life with the swooshing of the doors, followed shortly thereafter by a whistle and call for the doctor. "Keep your shirt on, I'll be right out," she purred over the intercom. Unable to just drop her experiment and run without losing hours of work, she spent a moment stabilizing it. While she'd yet to meet the owner of that voice, she'd heard it over the intercom a few times since her arrival on board the Agincourt. While she imagined the Commander would expect her to jump on all fours and run out of the doors, the 2nd in Command would just have to wait. It didn't matter that H'Rasha Trenral was a Caitian; whether the female doctor had been Caitian, Vulcan, Human or Other, as the newest doctor on staff for the Agincourt, she had gotten plucked into the third shift roster. Even an Imperial warship had a corporate pecking order so to speak, and if you were the newbie, you put your time in on the shifts where you were needed. And, despite the common species bloodline and culture? Trenral was still too new for JoNs to have gotten a read on her or her intentions on board the ship. Professionally, she was very good, that much had been certain. Although, the medical doctor had only been on board for a few weeks, and to be completely honest, JoNs would have rather *not* met her in a professional setting under the current circumstances. Nothing like having your ships Exec show up bleeding on your figurative doorstep to make a lasting impression, eh? Kansas stripped out of her uniform completely, leaving on a regulation uniform issue sports bra and female designed underwear. It took some doing, moving with the wounds while not aggravating them further, but the feline did fairly well getting the sticky with blood clothing off; the garments were useless now anyway. Once certain all her efforts wouldn't be wasted when she could return to the lab, she exited into sickbay proper. A quick sweep of her eyes and she found her patient. Hard not to notice a half naked Caitian standing there, dripping blood all over the place. "So much for keeping your shirt on," H'Rasha commented wryly. "All right, hop on the biobed, we'll see what needs to be done." She laid flat on her back as directed on the bio bed and grunted in pain as she got into the position. When I was flat on my back earlier? Yeah, that was much more fun then this… …okay, that was definitely a random thought…out of context, definitely…it was enjoyable though...whoa, okay, attention span drifting. Must be the blood loss… The cougar-esque Caitian doctor made her way over as the XO complied. Flicking on the biobed's scanners, she quickly looked over all the damage and tsked, but asked no questions. "You're not going to enjoy this next bit," she said. Grabbing a bottle of cleaning solution, which worked quite well and killed off any microbes and quickly washed any other contaminants (though it had the unfortunate side effect of burning like hell), she chose to start on the nastiest looking cut on the leg. Without any further ado, or warning, she poured the solution over the cut and then stepped back to ensure she didn't get clawed during the inevitable reaction. After H'Rasha poured the liquid over the deep cut on her leg, JoNs about bolted to the ceiling panels when the healing medicine interacted with the abraded and sliced skin tissue and worked its way down into the exposed muscle, cleansing the wound of anything that might have slipped in. As it stood, she sat upright from the pallet and yowled and couldn't help the tears that sprang to form in her eyes. Her attention span had most assuredly shot back into reality. "Hmph. When you get that one out of your system, lie back down so I can do the rest of them." the doctor drawled, absolutely no sympathy in her voice whatsoever. If you're going to put yourself into a position to be cut all to hell, you deserve what you get, H'Rasha thought. Crossing her arms, her paws impatiently tapping her own biceps, she waited for the XO to get done with the hysterics portion of treatment part 1A. Darjhan and Mical in a knee jerk guard reaction to the yowled cry came bolting into the sickbay. The XO didn't glance up from where her pained attention had fixated on the decking, but nevertheless sensed the movement from her guards and spoke to them. "Back. Get…back to your posts…" The two guards quietly complied and exited the immediate area, sharing a look with one another caught somewhere between sympathetic and "this is normal". Kansas had clamped her paws on the side edges of the bed and gritted her fangs as the liquid bubbled and frothed and worked its excruciating cleansing magic. Her fluffy golden tail, hanging off to the opposite side of the pallet from where her fellow Cait medico stood waiting in stony silence, quivered with pain. Once the medicinal liquid had run its course, the lion-like senior officer flopped back prone on the bio bed, panting slightly as she got her breathing back under control, her chest heaving slightly. "Veken …" H'Rasha had watched this go on without twitching an eye. In fact when the guards had come rushing in she hadn't even bothered to twitch an ear. She had not been the least surprised that JoNs' bodyguards came running. If more people had them, they'd run in for most treatments offered in the room. Medical science, while effective, had never been too concerned with the comfort of the patient, and treatments often coaxed out more screaming than the incidents that brought them to sickbay in the first place. "And wasn't that fun?" Purred the upright Caitian after her patient laid back down. "Might as well get to the rest before you get too comfy." H'Rasha turned, grabbing a new bottle of the damnable liquid. Facing back over the Executive Officer, she clamped her left paw down over the injured arm and then immediately poured half of the bottle over the gash in the collarbone and the other half over the forearm before discarding the bottle and using her right paw to hold the uninjured shoulder down onto the bed. "Can't have the liquid running away from the wounds," she said simply as she mercilessly watched the next bit of agony. The renewed haze of pain as the medicine coursed through the other two knife wounds was enough to keep Kansas down on the bed as she writhed a bit in pain, the particular bedside manner and grip of the Agincourt doctor notwithstanding. "Veken shayshana…son of a…grrrk…" "Well, now that that's over..." H'Rasha released her grip on the XO and tidied up a bit, giving her fellow Cait a few breaths while collecting a compressed air hypo. "The fellow that came up with that solution is dead now, by the way, but he does have a nice 'fan club' up on the subspace net if you'd like to join the community." With what had to be an infuriating chuckle, she studied the biobed readings a second before she blew the air over each wound to evaporate off any remaining solution. JoNs managed to gasp out, "…you have a particular…bedside manner…Doctor Trenral, is it?" "Got it in one, Commander," H'Rasha purred. She placed aside the hypo of air and bent down to look at the wounds up close now that the solution had done its magic. "Tsk, tsk. You really must stop running into those sharp objects," she commented dryly, reaching down and parting any fur away. "It's really counter-productive." Taking up a dermal regnerator, she gave it a few lazy swipes over the leg wound to test the integrity of the wound. "You know," she said off hand. "I've been studying up on the practice of stitching wounds..." "That would be a negatory Doctor unless you want to lose some fur."

H'Rasha, her pouncing need for the day satisfied (though it would've been so much better had it been Calestorm she'd landed on), was now tending to the various Agincourt security and marines that received wounds in the melee. Rather than risk bringing her medical team out this far, unescorted, she did the work herself. Her bedside manner was back in place, though the hissing hellcat wasn't buried too deep under the pleasant physician. "Not a field medic, am I?" The Caitian doctor thought as she treated a deep laceration on some security ensign. Admittedly she had spent her career to date in the comfy confines of a Starfleet Medical facility, whether the Main on earth or the Exo-Medicine on Cait. True, she preferred to be in the lab or dealing with the administrative aspects of a medical department, but that didn't mean she wasn't capable or willing to get her paws dirty. "There you are," she told the ensign. "Can't do anything about the uniform, I'm afraid." She was already walking off to her next patient as the ensign glumly thanked her. As she continued to treat, she pondered and kept her ears open. It seemed that somehow the Commander's presence became known and the excitement commenced from that. Either JoN's was sloppy (which H'Rasha doubted, a well trained Cait could slither undetected even through dense urban environments); the opposition was better organized with scouts than the doctor could fathom, considering the sloppiness of their attack; or they were getting inside information from someone, somewhere. The last thought was depressing, yet seemed the most plausible, especially considering all the trouble she'd heard of before she'd even arrived on Corianis. She could probably find out, after all doctors made the best spies sometimes. Who'd believe they had anything on their minds other than treating patients? She doubted she'd be allowed to wander through the city on her own, though, nor was it probably wise under the climate Calestorm's antics had created. She would lobby to be allowed access to the hospital where the locals had been sent for treatment, as medicated lips had a tendency to flap as much or more as alcohol lubricated ones. Her ministrations mostly complete, she'd yet to see to Matthews or Caine as the pair was still busy and sporting only superficial wounds, she headed their way. They would just have to pause or work while she did.

Remind me to meet all the engineers if that ship ever comes near the 'Court... Nice log other than that cheap shot. :P

PERSONAL DATA Name: H'Rasha Trenral Gender: Female Species: Caitian Place of Birth: tr'Mieran, Cait Age: 30 SY (Born 2367) PHYSICAL DATA Fur: Light Brown with white fur on chest Mane: Dark Auburn, shoulder length Eyes: Gold Height: 1.57 meters Weight: 46.3 kilograms STARFLEET DATA Rank: Lieutenant Position: Chief Medical Officer Posting: USS Agincourt NCC-81792 SPECIALIZATIONS, CERTIFICATIONS & LICENSES Medical Specialties: Pathology Toxicology Epidemiology Genetics Medical Certifications, Degrees and Licenses: M.D. (Doctor of Medicine) -- Starfleet Medical Practice Certification Alpha Starfleet Medical Exo-Medicine Certification Alpha Starfleet Research Grant Gamma Medical Administration Certification Level 5 Biohazard Containment Certification First Aid Certification Triage Certification Science Specialties: Biology [Molecular/Micro] Chemistry Science Certifications, Degrees and Licenses: B.S. Chemistry B.S. Biology [Molecular/Micro] M.S. Biology [Molecular/Micro] Other: Self Defense: Ranged Armed Certification (Lvl 5) Self Defense, Un-Armed Certification (Lvl 4) Phaser License (Type 1 & 2 only) Survival Training Certificate EDUCATION HISTORY Primary: HS'Mehran I @ tr'Mieran, Cait (2372-2378) Secondary: HS'Mehran II @ tr'Mieran, Cait (2378-2384) Streamlined Science Discipline High School Diploma Equivalent: Graduated Valedictorian Tertiary: Starfleet Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth (2384-2388) Extra Science Focus Oriented Pre-Med Track B.S. Chemistry and B.S. Biology [Molecular/Micro]: Graduated top 2% Starfleet Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth (2388-2389) Biology [Molecular/Micro] Focus M.S. Biology [Molecular/Micro] Starfleet Medical Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth (2388-2392) General Practice Focus M.D.: Graduated top 10% Other: Starfleet Exo-Medical School @ tr'Mieran, Cait (2392-2394) Starfleet Exo-Medicine Certification Achieved Medical Administration Certification Achieved Level 5 Biohazard Containment Certification Achieved FAMILY Father: Unknown [Trenral, Mrenga states conception occurred during Caitian Fertility Rite Ceremony (Moh'Roshal)] Mother: Mrenga Trenral | Female, 62 SY | Lab Technician: Dorakh Laboratories @ tr'Mieran, Cait Siblings: None Aunt(s)/Uncle(s): Cpt JoLan K'hal | Male, 72 SY | Professor of Astrophysics: Starfleet Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth Cdr Kharril K'hal (Ret) | Female, 63 SY | Retired Security Chief of Security @ Starfleet Medical School; currently living in San Fransisco Cousin(s): Mreh K'hal | Male, 42 SY | Position Classified @ Location Classified LCdr Hakran K'hal | Male, 40 SY | Chief Science Officer: USS Pulsar NCC-77543 @ Gamma Quadrant Mren K'hal Ph.D | Female, 38 SY | Researcher: Daystrom Institute Cdr Rhan K'hal | Male, 37 SY | Chief of Operations/Second Officer: USS Hyperion NCC-94126 @ Beta Quadrant SERVICE RECORD 2384: Entered Starfleet Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth Rank Assigned: Cadet 2388: Graduated Starfleet Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth Promotion to: Ensign 2388: Transfer to Starfleet Medical Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth 2392: Graduated Starfleet Medical Academy @ San Fransisco, Earth Promotion to: Lieutenant Junior Grade 2392: Transfer to Starfleet Exo-Medical School @ tr'Mieran, Cait 2394: Completed Advanced Residency from Starfleet Exo-Medical School @ tr'Mieran, Cait 2394-2397: Combined Research and Practice at Starfleet Exo-Medical School @ tr'Mieran, Cai 2395: Promotion to: Lieutenant 2397: Transfer to USS Agincourt NCC-81762 2397-Present: USS Agincourt NCC-81762 > Chief Medical Officer Current Rank: Lieutenant

Sitting in the co-pilot's seat, though not doing any flying, H'Rasha Trenral looked over out of her sparlking golden eyes toward the pilot. "I'm surprised they let you bring me here in this." Brown furred with a shoulder-length sweep of dark auburn hair and long, arching bangs framing her feline face, the fine-boned Caitian female's voice purred quietly as she spoke. The pilot grinned, showing his own set of fangs on a happy face with spotted fur. "I needed to come this way to pick something up, so I managed to convince them giving you a lift here would be just what the doctor ordered." "Which doctor?" H'Rasha asked with a chuckle. "Both." The pilot's paws gracefully moved over the console as he checked the sleek vessel's various systems. "I'm still surprised you decided to take a starship posting, little one." "Me too," H'Rasha conceded. "It seemed like... the time. I just haven't been as content as I expect to be." "Curiosity finally getting to you?" The pilot asked, his voice purring. "I suppose, yes. I guess I'm feeling like I'm not helping out enough, you know?" "Yes, I know. I've been there," he answered. He looked over at the smaller Caitian and smiled. "After five years of planetary medical duty it'll be quite a switch to being on a starship. Bring your holoprograms?" "Loads of them," she replied. "Mother sent along about twenty-five herself, along with a sealed container of home-cooked food, and everything else she could sneak into my packs. Leave my bedroom for five minutes and my bags would gain two kilos." "Aunt Mrenga," he chuckled. "The Worrywart of the Year Award winner since 2367." "Don't let her hear you say that, Mreh!" H'Rasha said, laughing. "She'll send Aunt Kharril after you." "Good point. Now that my mom's retired she's being a major pain in my tail." Mreh K'hal's fluffy tail lashed around behind the seat in emphasis. "She still talking to your mom every day?" "Not every day." H'Rasha rolled her eyes. "Only because mom stopped answering the comm every day if she saw who was calling. Aunt Kharril finally gave up after two weeks of that." Mreh laughed. "Your mom is as smart as mine is stubborn." "Oh, my mom's very stubborn too," H'Rasha stated. With a sigh, she looked at the energy streaks through the viewport. "I'm going to miss the K'hal reunion this year, it'll be the first one I haven't been to." "With as many of us in Starfleet as there are, the family is used to it. I haven't been to one since I was in the Academy." Mreh reached out a paw and patted his cousin on the shoulder. "It will just make everything nicer when you finally do get back for one." "I suppose, Mreh." She sighed again. "I'm homesick already and I haven't even arrived at my destination." "It's hard," Mreh conceded. "I can't say you'll 'get used to it' because I don't think I ever have. There's always a little part of me that misses San Fransisco, mom and dad, my brothers and sister so much it aches. But once you get settled into a routine it takes a back burner and you get through." "Really? As long as you've been in the Fleet you're always homesick?" H'Rasha asked, intrigued. "Yup. I don't know if the other races feel like that. Well, Vulcans probably not unless it's their Pon Farr, but... It's easier with other Caitians around, I know 'my' JoNs made me feel considerably more comfortable when I served on the Excalibur, hopefully I did the same for her. I'm sure it'll be the same with your JoNs. You'll have to say hi to M'rrett," he paused and chuckled, "that'll be 'Commander JoNs' to you, for me. Haven't seen her for ages. "Well, we're about fifteen minutes out, you should go get your gear and set on the transporter pad. While I'd like to stay and see you aboard the Agincourt..." "I know, classified people to see, classified things to do," she said with a smile. "I'll go get my stuff, and I'll be sure to give 'Commander JoNs' your regards. I'm sure I'll see her at least straightaway. I'm told ship XO's like to grill their new officers sooner rather than later." "Not always grill... sometimes they only lightly saute them," Mreh responded with a fanged grin. "Comedian," H'Rasha said with a chuckle as she headed into the back. A few moments later, her belongings ready to go, she returned to the cockpit. "I haven't seen her myself since our Academy days. She and I were in the same class you know. Not that we spend much time around each other. The security grunts didn't schmooze with the science geeks." She grinned at Mreh's eye-roll. "You can see what difference it makes going in for the extra schooling. She's a Commander, XO of a starship, already." "Tell me about it," Mreh said with a little whine in his voice, remembering his own slow advancement after leaving the medical career on the Excalibur. H'Rasha ruffled her cousin's mane from behind. "I'd say you've gotten somewhere, Mreh. That is I'd say it if I knew what on Cait that you actually do now." "Oh, I'm somewhere all right," Mreh said. "More like everywhere, but that's neither here nor there." "A lot of words in that statement, and none of them made any sense," H'Rasha replied after shaking her head. "Good." "I hate it when you do that, you know." "Good," Mreh said with the tiniest of smirks. "Here we are, the Corianis System, dropping out of warp."