Ministrations

[H'Rasha Trenral 0]

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.