"Licking Wounds"

[Dox Maturin 0]

"Licking Wounds"

Duty Log - 0708.13

 

 

Dox stood quietly in cargo bay two, taking in deep breaths and surveying the area. Captain Sorehl had come aboard the Excalibur and ordered him to assist the medical team. He, himself, and the chief medical officer, Pilot, traveled through the ship's inoperative turbolift shafts to the bay, where a medical center had been set up. Injured were continuing to come in - but fortunately they were all on their feet, as the more severely injured had already been brought in and were being treated by the highly trained staff.

 

He smiled slightly as Sorehl quickly made his exit, on his way to engineering. You could always tell when a Vulcan was out of his element. And sometimes, Dox thought, emergency situations seemed to bring the best out in Vulcans. Surrounded by emotional, bumbling humans, they seemed to thrive on the sudden importance of their rock solid logic.

 

Sighing, Dox leaned over a nearby officer. The officer tried to make small talk, but Dox was having none of that. He simply pulled a gel pack of burn salve from his kit and began smearing it over the man's plasma wound. This was nothing, Dox thought, compared to some of the other situations he had experienced. Yes, there were crewmen that were hurting, and some that were dead, but medical supplies were plentiful, the staff was alert and attentive, and the majority of the injuries were broken bones, burns, and cuts and scrapes. No bloody screams, no severed limbs, no grotesque mutilations.

 

After having his burn treated and wrapped, the officer (a young ensign in a maroon tunic) looked up at Dox. "Sir," he whimpered, "when will communications be restored so we can contact our families?"

 

How was he supposed to know? Did Dox look like an engineer? He simply shook his head and sighed, giving the ensign a pathetic look. Pilot had mentioned this only moments ago; contacting the families of those who died. Frankly, bothering with family was a waste of time at this point. There would be plenty of opportunity to whine and cry over subspace later. Perhaps it was because Dox had no family, or because for all he knew his family had just abandoned him, but he just didn't care.

 

So he ignored the ensign and moved on to the next in line. Everyone was sitting on cots set up across the decking. All was well organized. As far as Dox knew, things were going quite well. Overhearing Joy on the bridge, he knew that there was a Bird of Prey docked with them, providing some emergency power while they conducted essential repairs. The bridge staff, when he awoke from his collision with the deck after the shock wave hit, had mostly filtered out to different areas of the ship. At least temporarily. When he came to, he found only Joy remaining.

 

Fortunately, Joy and engineering quickly restored gravity. Dox couldn't imagine the frustration of the medical staff trying to treat everyone in the cargo bay in zero gravity. Some of the patients, he could see, were still strapped down to their cots.

 

The ship itself was not looking good. The long range sensors were down, with only short range passive systems available. That meant that if any Scorpiads were planning to return, they would not know it until they were nearly on top of them. Dox didn't like the thought of that.

 

The torpedo tubes, he had overheard, were nearly destroyed. Primary power was still down, with only emergency batteries running the grid. This likely meant that phasers were also inoperable. Dox recalled that most phaser systems drew power directly from the warp core to maximize their effectiveness. In any event, without shields the Excalibur would likely not have time to fire anything anyway.

 

But that was perhaps the most curious thing about this battle; the Scorpiads had cut and run as soon as their mobile weapons platform had been destroyed. They had plenty of ships to carry on the fight, but they chose to flee. That didn't stand up to what Dox had read about their species. Was there something special about that platform that had caused their retreat? Was it something else? Were they simply regrouping or establishing an ambush or surprise attack while the various wounded Federation starships licked their wounds?

 

There were too many unanswered questions about the Scorpiads to make any intelligent predictions. Dox was quite certain, however, that it would not be the last time they would see them. And thus, he told himself, he would have ample opportunity to study their society. He owed them that much, he thought, to learn something about them that could be recorded in Federation history. Something positive, so history did not record them as ruthless conquerors. No, this was simply a layer of the Scorpiads that had now been peeled. The anticipation of what was to come simply thrilled him.