Recovery

[Pace 0]

Recovery

 

 

Ensign John Pace slinked into his quarters, barely acknowledging his bunkmate. After pulling off the uncomfortable thing the Bajoran Militia considered a uniform, he lay down in his bed, and sighed with relief. What a day he thought. He reflected on the last 16 hours he had just spent in sickbay, helping attend to the wounded from the Scorpiad attack on the Union. He was prepared, but this was his first real combat situation.

 

He tried to close his eyes, hoping his exhaustion would put him to sleep, but every time he would think about sleep, an image of the crewman that had died on his bio-bed flashed into his mind. He knew she had no chance right when she was brought in, but he tried his best anyway. In the end, he gave her what he could for the pain as her life signs faded to nothing. He only had seconds to consider what had just happened before another patient was brought to him: She died. All of this technology, all of my training was useless. She died, and I could do nothing.

 

Trying to take his mind off of her, he shifted his train of thought to all the lives he helped save today. The number of wounded had been staggering, but the losses were minimal considering the damage the ship sustained. Holding on to this thought, John drifted into an uneasy sleep.