Here We Go Again

[Chirakis 1]

Here We Go Again

A Raven Benjamin Log

 

There’s something to be said about prostheses. And Romulan clothing. If nothing else, they’re protection. But apparently it wasn't protection enough. Not this time.

 

As soon as Raven was sure SubCenturion tr'Korjata was aboard the shuttle and uninjured she allowed the team medic to patch her up. Well maybe allowed isn't the word. Her tunic had soaked up as much blood as it could and had begun to leave a trail on the deck, making walking hazardous for everyone else. So maybe instead of allowed, we should say he threatened to knock her out if she didn't sit down and stay put. Soon Corey was picking Mist Station ceiling out of her back piece by piece using the limited equipment he had in his kit.

 

The adrenaline surge she’d had during combat and escape was beginning to wane, which meant, of course, that the pain had set in. That, and he kept asking her questions like “What’s your name,” and, “What’s today’s date,” and, “If you have two apples and three oranges, how many apples do you have?” And someone was complaining that they should have let the doc come, regardless of how dangerous the mission had become.

 

Raven began to think maybe she should have let Corey knock her out.

 

“Hang onto something, El Tee,” he said as his hand wandered to her shoulder, “and take a deep breath....”

 

That was the last thing she remembered until she awoke in Aegean’s sick bay surrounded by medical personnel - one cleaning her arm, one arranging equipment on a table next to her bed, another dabbing something cold on her back, and a few deep in doc-speak out of her line of sight. She was on her stomach, of course, and it’s kind of hard to see, talk, or retch when you’re on your stomach... retching being the one thing she really wanted to do.

 

“Lieutenant Benjamin,” she heard in one ear, “how are you feeling?”

 

Damn, how am I supposed to feel with half the station’s ceiling in my backside as a souvenir? Feel like hell.

 

“Not too good,” she replied.

 

“We’re going to take care of that, Lieutenant, but I have a few questions to ask you first. Do you have any previous injuries?”

 

Um.. yeah. That time when I cracked a rib breaking up that bar brawl. Then there was the time I came in buster and trashed the fighter bay, and before that during training when I slid down that talus pile into the wadi on Petra. But maybe training doesn't count. Gees....

 

“A few,” she said. “Think I cracked my head a couple times, maybe busted a rib or two. I've kind of lost count.”

 

After a long pause, the voice said, “Okay, then. We’ll watch out for those things when you go into surgery.”

 

Surgery... what the hell....

 

A sudden hypo and she was out. Again.